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BOOK: Bittner, Rosanne
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Pearl hurried out of her room, red pigtails flying, green eyes on fire with delight. Her fair-skinned face showed a few freckles, and it was obvious she was going to be a beautiful woman someday. Lettie smiled and gave her a hug. "You have an audience, love." Lettie nodded toward Nial, and Pearl grinned and curtsied.

"I'm not real good yet, but I'm getting better," she told the Englishman.

"Oh, I hear you play beautifully."

"Really? Who told you that?"

"Oh, Will Doolan brags all over town about your playing!"

Pearl laughed. "Uncle Will tells such big stories." She hurried to the piano and opened it, positioning herself on the bench. She began playing some hymns, and Nial agreed that, for her age, the child was a wonder at the keyboard.

"She could go far with this," he told Lettie after several minutes of playing.

Lettie felt the pain of wishing Luke were here to listen. Because of the death of one son and the desertion of another, he was missing out on these special times with the rest of his children.

"You might consider letting her study music when she is older," Nial was saying. "I know of a very good music school in Chicago. I have contacts there, people who would take excellent care of her."

Lettie met his eyes, gratitude in her own. "Music is all she talks about. Thank you for the offer." Here was a man who cared about the finer things in life, who seemed to care more about her children's futures than their own father did right now. Had she misjudged Nial Bentley? Was it wrong to appreciate his friendship and attention in this dark time? Anne Sacks had little time for visiting. She was busy with two young sons, as well as helping Billy build his own small ranch on land Luke had given the young couple. Mae was constantly cleaning and cooking, and in her free time she had begun seeing one of Luke's hired hands, Bob Franks. The children's tutor, Elsie, had married Peter Yost, and when she was not teaching, she was at her own modest home Peter had built for them about a half mile from the main house. Now she was expecting a baby.

It seemed everyone had abandoned her, or was it just her imagination? Maybe it was she who had abandoned all her friends. She had to be careful of her feelings. Depression, guilt, and grief had distorted her ability to reason. Maybe they had also distorted her view of Luke. She wanted everything to be the way it used to be between them.

Pearl played for nearly an hour, reveling in the attention of the newcomer. She did not remember Nial Bentley from the one other time he had visited here, but she liked his fascinating accent and the way he doted on her talent. Her own father used to listen to her often, until Paul died. It seemed as though a lot of things had changed since then. Her father was almost never home, and her mother seldom smiled. Nial Bentley had made Lettie smile again, and she was glad when her mother asked him to stay for lunch. He told them all stories about London; and about cities like Chicago and Omaha. She tried to imagine what such places must be like, and she dreamed about going there someday, began to daydream about being a famous pianist. Mr. Bentley seemed to know everything about everything, even about a university in the state of Michigan that he suggested Robbie might want to attend someday to study to be a
doctor.
All he had to do was pass the necessary entrance exams.

The only thing she didn't like about the Englishman was the way he grasped her mother's hands before he finally left. There was an intimacy about the way he held them that struck her as something that should be reserved only for her father. But her father wasn't here. He so seldom sat at the family dinner table now, and she knew something was terribly wrong between her parents. She didn't understand it completely, but it worried her, especially when her mother told the other children and her that perhaps they had better not be too enthusiastic around Luke about Nial's visit.

"Your father and Mr. Bentley have had their differences in the past," she told them, without explaining what those differences were. "And lately your father gets angry so easily. It might be best not to make too much of Mr. Bentley's visit. He was just trying to be friendly."

"I don't like him," Ty grumbled. "He's soft, and I don't like the way he looks at you."

Lettie met her son's eyes and saw Luke there—protective, jealous, possessive. It seemed those emotions and more had left Luke, all except hate, with no purpose left in life but killing or ousting every stranger on his land and continuing to build his little empire, with or without her at his side.

CHAPTER 19

August 1877

Lettie disembarked from the family's three-seater buggy and walked up to Will and Henny's log home, grabbing hold of her straw hat to keep it from blowing off in a stiff, hot wind. She could see Henny was sitting in a rocker on the porch. She forced herself to smile, though she was shocked at how white the woman's hair had become. She lifted the hem of her yellow cotton dress as she went up the steps, then leaned over Henny to give her a hug.

"Oh, it's good to see you again, Henny! I miss you being able to come out to the ranch."

"Lettie! I didn't know you were coming. I'm so glad, dear." The words were slightly slurred. Since her stroke, Henny could barely walk, and Will had hired a woman to come and do the cleaning and cooking. One of Henny's several cats sat on her lap, and the woman petted it lightly with her right hand, which was weak but usable. She could hardly move her left hand and arm, and the left side of her face drooped slightly.

"It's been so long, Lettie. I was so worried about you. The other women say you almost never leave the house. I'm so glad to see you're getting out."

Lettie noticed the woman's eyes were more sunken, and she appeared to be even weaker than the last time she had seen her. Was her good friend dying? Oh, how she hated death. She couldn't bear losing Henny, too. Not now!

She pulled up a chair and sat down beside the woman, while Bob Franks, who had brought her to visit, headed the family buggy back to Billings. "For reasons even I don't understand, I find it hard to leave home anymore, Henny. I'm so sorry I've neglected visiting as often as I should. Somehow I feel as if I'm deserting Paul when I go away. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I can't help it."

Henny reached over and touched her arm. "No one knows how they will react to losing a loved one until it happens, Lettie. Each of us works out our grief differently."

Lettie sighed deeply. "I suppose. At any rate, the girls needed some things that they wanted to come to town to pick out themselves, and Luke and Ty are on the cattle drive to Cheyenne. Bob Franks was bringing Mae into town, so we all came together. He left Mae and the girls at Syd Martin's store. Mae and Bob are married now, you know. Mae is staying on to help me, though. She and Bob share a room on the third floor, and Bob will stay on as a ranch hand."

"Will told me they got married. How nice for Mae!" Henny managed to turn her head to meet Lettie's green eyes, her own dark eyes all-knowing. "What about
your
marriage, Lettie? It's all the other women gossip about when they visit, you know."

Lettie paled. "They do?"

Henny squeezed her arm, an understanding smile making her face break into its many premature wrinkles. "Lettie, everyone knows Luke spends more time over at the Lonesome Tree or out on the range than he does at home. Ever since Paul died—"

"I don't want to talk about it," Lettie interrupted, pulling her arm away. "I didn't come here for that."

"Didn't you?"

Lettie put a hand to her forehead. "That stroke certainly didn't affect your mind or your insight, did it? You get right to the point."

Henny smiled. "We've always been close, Lettie. I've been so worried about you, not visiting, keeping yourself away from people, not attending the women's meetings. You've always been the one to bring people together, a leader, so strong and elegant and sure. I hear the rumors and I hurt for you. As far as getting to the point, I have to, Lettie. You're my friend, and I love you; and God knows we might not get another chance to talk, my health the way it is."

"Oh, don't say that, Henny! I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't talk to you sometimes. Even when I don't visit, just knowing you're here is somehow a comfort. What does Doc Manning say?"

Henny began stroking the cat on her lap again. "There isn't much he can do. I try to do things to build my strength, but every day I feel a little weaker. I don't really mind for me, you know. I just hate being this way for Will. He's been so patient and good." She sighed. "Enough of me. You're trying to change the subject, Lettie Fontaine, and I won't let you do it. You're hurting. Luke is hurting. But you aren't sharing that hurt and helping each other. Why not?"

Lettie shook her head. "I give up." She smiled sadly. "There is so much I want to say to him, Henny, but the words just won't come."

"You had a good marriage, Lettie. Everyone could see how strong it was, how much you loved each other. Love like that doesn't die without a good fight. Maybe that's what you need—a good fight—scream, yell, get it all out."

"Maybe. I just don't quite know how to get the conversation started, and Luke is gone so much now." Lettie grasped at her hat again as a gust of wind tugged at it. "It's so hot today."

"Ah, ah! You're changing the subject again."

Lettie sat quietly thinking for a moment before continuing. "At first I blamed him for everything, and I guess he sensed that. He grew so cold and hard. Now I don't know how to get him back. I'm not even sure how I feel about him anymore. Since Nathan ran off and Paul died... I don't know. I just don't have those feelings anymore. It's as though all the love and passion have gone out of me. I don't even do the books anymore. I used to love doing that for Luke. Now everything is changed. It's as though we're on different pathways. We don't even—" She looked down at the handbag in her lap. "We don't even share the same bedroom any more."

"Oh, Lettie! Surely you know how much that man loves you."

Lettie met her eyes. "So much that he spends his nights with Annie Gates?"

Henny frowned. "Do you know that for a fact?"

"No," Lettie answered, rising. "But it wouldn't surprise me." She walked over to grasp one of the porch posts. "Has Will ever said anything about it?"

"No. But you know how men are. They stick together. He knows if he ever mentioned it to me, I would tell you. But maybe there is nothing to tell, Lettie."

Lettie smiled bitterly. "Part of me doesn't even care and doesn't blame him. And part of me wants to run to him, beg him never to go near that woman."

"So what is stopping you? Nial Bentley?"

Lettie turned in surprise. "What?"

Henny shook her head. "I
told
you you're the most talked-about woman in Billings. Luke's men see Nial coming to visit every couple of weeks while Luke's gone on the cattle drive; they tell other men; word gets around."

Lettie sighed and came to sit back down. "Nial is just being a friend. He has a wonderful, gentle nature, now that I've gotten to know him better. He has visited several times, listens to Pearl play the piano, brought some books about medicine to Robbie. He is entertaining, easy to talk to, and his concern for the children and my own losses over the past year and a half have made me appreciate his visits. I didn't much like him when he first gave me attention four years ago, but I see him through different eyes now."

"Nial Bentley wants to be more than just a friend, Let-tie. You must know that. You'd better be careful. You know how Luke feels about him, and Luke has never been an easy man to tangle with."

Lettie leaned back in the chair. "I know. I worry for

Nial, but he insists on coming around. He has a way of making me talk, Lettie. I've shared things with him that I once would only have shared with Luke; and he's so attentive to the children, teaching them about life in England and in big cities, telling them about universities and schools. He has Pearl dreaming of studying music, and Robbie determined to be a doctor. They're starved for that attention. God knows Luke hasn't been much of a father to any of them these past months, except to Ty. They're still very close." She looked at Henny. "Ty doesn't like Nial, but the other three children do, very much. When Nial comes over, it's like we're a family again; but when Luke is there, the children grow quiet. They're almost afraid of him, and now I don't know how to reach him myself."

"Lettie, Luke couldn't help any of the things that have happened."

Tears formed in Lettie's eyes. "I know that."

"Then tell him, and get rid of Nial Bentley before he destroys your marriage."

Lettie watched three cats run by, all chasing a chipmunk. "If our marriage is destroyed, it won't be because of Nial Bentley or Annie Gates."

Henny sniffed. "They're both biting at the bit. Don't you fool yourself. Annie's probably been telling Luke you're not the right woman for him, that you're too refined and too educated to be married to a rancher; she's probably filled his head with hints about what might be going on with Nial. And Nial is probably doing the same with you, hinting that you're meant for better men than Luke Fontaine. But they don't
come
any better as far as I'm concerned, and he's still damn handsome for all his forty-two years."

Lettie thought about the first time she'd set eyes on Luke, when he saved Nathan from being trampled. There were moments when she could vividly remember the passion Luke stirred in her, and all the reasons she had married the man. "You're right about everything you're saying, Henny. There's just this terrible riff between us now. With my baby buried, it just doesn't seem right that I should ever enjoy life and love again."

"That's ridiculous! Do you think denying yourself happiness for the rest of your life is going to bring back Paul? It's time you straightened things out with Luke, Lettie, before all of this goes too far. You love each other too much to let this keep happening. Nial Bentley is like a vulture, waiting for something to die, picking at it little by little even though it's still alive." The woman took Lettie's hand again. "Paul is dead, Lettie. You have to face that fact and get on with life, give your attention to your other children, your husband, yourself. There is no bringing Paul back, no matter what kinds of sacrifices or penance you try to make. It's nobody's fault.
Nobody's!
Not yours, not Luke's, nobody's."

BOOK: Bittner, Rosanne
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