Bittner, Rosanne (28 page)

"You're welcome to come to the Double L any time."

The man put on his hat, admiration still shining in his eyes. "Thank you. I believe I'll join the others now, so you won't be embarrassed that I lagged behind." He hesitated. "I was simply fascinated, Mrs. Fontaine, not just by your beauty, but by the things Mr. Doolan said about you. Not many women would endure and survive out here, suffering the things you have surely suffered. I deeply admire your strength and bravery. Did you really shoot one of those buffalo hunters yourself?"

Lettie folded her arms and looked up at him. "Yes. And years ago I shot one of the horse thieves that tried to claim our land when we first settled here. I'm beginning to think maybe I should shoot
you,
Mr. Bentley."

The man laughed with delight, holding up his hands. "All right, I'm leaving." He laughed again as he turned and walked out the door, and Lettie looked after him, not sure if she liked the man, or despised him. She decided she would let Luke be the judge. She was not going to tell him how she felt about the Englishman, because if he thought she disliked him, he might not even discuss the new breed of cattle Bentley was suggesting. It could be good for the Double L, and she didn't want anything to interfere with improving profits. A good businessman would put facts and figures before personal feelings, and as long as she was representing the Double L, she had to do the same.

Luke watched from where he sat on the front porch as the rider approached, accompanied by Tex. Per Luke's instructions, no stranger ever came up to the Fontaine home without being met at the gate and accompanied by one of his men. He adjusted the homemade wheelchair the men had constructed for him, moving it a little closer to the steps and being careful to avoid bumping his right leg on the porch railing. The leg stuck straight out, supported by a wooden brace and troughlike structure the men had built onto the chair to support the leg, which Luke still could not bend or put any weight on.

He breathed deeply of the fresh air, glad to be out of the bedroom, aching to get back on a horse and back to his duties as owner of the Double L, but he had resigned himself to the doctor's prediction. It would be weeks, maybe months, before that would happen. He hated this helplessness, hated having to send poor Lettie on errands that should be his own.

Little Pearl came out of the house wearing a shawl because of the crisp September air. She brought one of Luke's buckskin jackets with her. "Mommy said you should put this on."

Luke winked at her, proud of how beautiful the tiny girl was, her red hair a mass of curls, her green eyes sparkling. "I don't need it just yet." He took the jacket and laid it across his lap, keeping his eyes on the approaching rider, who sat on a fine, sleek black horse and was dressed in a gray suit and ruffled shirt. He sported a black felt hat, and Luke knew without asking that it was the fancy Englishman Will and Lettie had told him was at the cattlemen's meeting a week ago. Will had brought Lettie and the children home, carrying on about all that had been discussed at the meeting, showing Luke the despicable barbed wire. Lettie had more calmly informed him of everything that had happened, asking for his opinion, telling him about the new breed of cattle called Herefords that Nial Bentley had talked about.

She had not mentioned that Bentley had seemed infatuated with her. Will had told him that when they were alone. "The others call him the fancy man," Will had joked.

"He's sure that, but he seems to know cattle. Trouble is, he knows women, too. You should've seen how he looked at Lettie, like she was some kind of angel. All the men, they showed her nothin' but respect, Luke; and Lettie, she did a right fine job representin' the Double L. You would have been proud, but I'll bet that fancy Englishman wouldn't have looked at her like he did if you was there."

"You've got a visitor, boss." Tex said, grinning. Luke could tell the man was about to laugh at the way the Englishman was dressed. Luke controlled his own urge to chuckle, and he could already guess Nial Bentley was backed by old money, probably came from some English family of wealth. Maybe he was a lord or had some other damn fancy title. Whatever the case, he was certainly a handsome man. Luke guessed him to be a little older than himself.

"Go get Mommy," he told Pearl.

The girl ran inside, and Luke nodded to Bentley. "Afternoon."

"Good day, sir!" the man answered, dismounting. He tied his horse at a hitching post and climbed the steps, putting out his hand. "I already know from your man here that you are Luke Fontaine," Nial said with his strong British accent. "I am Nial Bentley, as you have probably already guessed. I thought it was time we met, Mr. Fontaine, since my land borders yours to the south. Your wife invited me to come and tell you about the beef I plan to raise there. She thought you might be interested in buying a few head yourself."

Luke reached up and shook the man's hand, squeezing just enough to let Bentley know he'd better not underestimate him just because he was in a wheelchair. "I'm willing to listen," Luke answered. "But like most of the other ranchers around here, I doubt anything but the shorthorns we've been breeding around here for years can survive."

"Ah! And where did the shorthorn first come from? England!" Nial removed his hat and laid it on a nearby table. "They were bred with the sturdy Texas longhorns, and you ended up with some of the finest beef in the world. I'll wager you bought your first cattle out of Oregon?"

Luke shifted in his chair, wincing with pain. "I did. The last few years I've mostly been breeding my own."

"Yes, well, you started out with good stock. The shorthorns managed to survive being herded clear across the country when Oregon was first settled. They've proved their worth. You had great foresight to buy up all that you could back when there was a surplus in Oregon." He winked. "Little did those people know just how valuable that beef was going to be some day. Am I right?"

Luke nodded, wanting to like the man. He was amiable enough, and he certainly knew his cattle, and American history. Too bad he had an eye for Lettie. Maybe Will had just exaggerated. "You're right. You seem to know an awful lot about the subject, for a foreigner."

Bentley laughed. "Well, I don't feel like a foreigner. My family has owned property and businesses in America for years. I myself studied at Harvard, and I own quite a large cattle ranch in Wisconsin. My father is the one who could see there would be a demand for beef after your Civil War ended. He invested in this new breed, raises them in England. He had several hundred shipped to America a few years ago. I've been raising them in Wisconsin. I brought a few hundred into Montana this summer, but I've kept them close to the main house, so you probably didn't notice them when you herded your cattle over my land on the way to Cheyenne this past spring. At any rate, these cattle are worth much more on the hoof than shorthorns because of their weight. I already have a contract with Patterson's Meat Supply in Omaha. Perhaps your wife told you a buyer from Patterson's is coming here next spring to talk to you and the other cattlemen?"

Luke watched him carefully. "She told me."

Lettie came out then, and Luke noticed her stiffen slightly at the sight of Nial Bentley, who quickly rose in respect, his eyes lighting up with delight. Luke felt an irritating jealousy at the way the man looked at her. No man had looked at his wife that way since they'd been here in Montana. He knew the other ranchers and his own men couldn't help but see she was beautiful, but they showed her complete respect, as the woman who belonged to Luke Fontaine.

"Well, hello, Mr. Bentley. So, you accepted my invitation to pay Luke a visit. You should have warned us. I could have prepared a fancier supper than what I have already planned." Lettie walked to stand behind Luke, putting her hands on his shoulders.

Nial bowed slightly, wishing this flutter Lettie Fontaine created in his soul would go away. He was hoping that when he saw her again, dressed more plainly as she was today, caught off guard with her hair drawn back into a simple bun, perhaps she would be less beautiful. Perhaps he would feel completely different from the first time he met her, but nothing had changed. He struggled not to let his feelings show in front of Luke, who he could tell, even sitting in a wheelchair, was a formidable man, obviously tall, looking strong and rugged. He'd heard stories about men like Luke, and about Luke himself. He belonged to a breed of men who guarded their land and possessions to the death, and that surely included their women.

"I am delighted to see you again, Mrs. Fontaine." He looked down at Luke. "Your wife did a fine job the other day at the cattlemen's meeting."

"So I'm told."

Nial swallowed at the look in Luke's eyes. He knew! The man already knew what he was thinking! He made a point of not looking back at Lettie. "Well, you are a lucky man, Mr. Fontaine. And might I add, I am very sorry for your injury. I heard the story of the buffalo hunters."

"Probably from Will Doolan," Luke answered, reaching up and touching one of Lettie's hands. He grinned. "Will loves to tell tall tales."

Nial cleared his throat and sat back down. "Yes, well, I have a feeling it was not such a tall story. A person could write a book about the experiences you and your family have had since coming here."

Little Pearl came back out to stand beside her mother and stare at the oddly dressed visitor, and Paul toddled out after her, grasping his mother's skirts and wanting to be picked up. Lettie reached down and lifted him, introducing Pearl and him, then Katie, who also came out to have a look. Robbie and Ty ran by then, screaming and playing Indian. "Our other two sons," Lettie explained. "Tyler is the oldest boy. He's seven and Robert is four."

Nial caught the pride in her voice, saw it in Luke's eyes. "You have a fine family, Mr. Fontaine."

Their eyes held for a moment, and Luke nodded. "I think so."

Nial could see that having any feelings for Lettie Fontaine was hopeless. He put on a grin. "Well, about my cattle. They're called Herefords, and believe me, they carry more pounds of beef on the hoof than any shorthorn. They have very broad heads and big necks, huge chests and short legs. An eight-month-old steer can weigh well over six hundred pounds, maybe a thousand. I've known mature steers to reach close to two thousand pounds. They're a sturdy animal, I assure you, and resistant to disease."

"Can they survive a Montana winter?"

"The ones I brought with me did just fine last winter."

"We've had winters that were a lot worse than last year's."

Nial leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'll make a deal with you. Buy five hundred head from me, and if they don't make the next winter or don't breed well, I will refund your money. I'll sell you three bulls and several cows so you'll have some breeding stock. The rest will be young steers, money in the bank for you when they're grown and fattened. I have a lot more cows, but I need them for my own breeding purposes. I'll let you have all five hundred for eighty cents a head. That is very cheap compared to what you'll get for the steers later on, probably at least six to eight dollars a head."

Luke took a thin cigar from his shirt pocket, along with a match. He lit the smoke, looking out at some of his own cattle grazing below as he took a few puffs before replying. "Why are you so anxious to help the rest of us? We're your competition."

"We're all part of the Cattlemen's Association now, all here to help each other, are we not? Besides, I don't really own the cattle on any of my ranches, Mr. Fontaine. I only own the land itself. My father and several others formed a company back in England that invests in American cattle. They foresaw the profit that could be made in this industry. I came here to manage those investments and find a market for the Herefords. My father's company strongly believes in the breed and I am here to promote them and find new buyers."

"All right, Bentley. Lettie and Will both already told me a lot about this new breed. I'll give them a try, but I'll pay you half their worth. I'll give you the rest after they've proven themselves." He looked back at the Englishman. "For all I know you could hightail it back to England and I'd never see you or my money again. The damn cattle could die off on me over the next winter, and I'd be out four hundred dollars."

Bentley smiled. "Agreed. Half up front. But I assure you, I am here to stay, Mr. Fontaine. I promised my father I'd find a big market out here for him, and I do love this land. It's so beautiful. Everything is so big and spectacular! I'm not sure I could ever go back to England!"

"We love it here, too, Mr. Bentley," Lettie put in. "That's why we've never left, in spite of the bad times. There have also been a lot of good times."

Nial glanced at her again, wishing she hadn't spoken so he wouldn't have to look her way. How could a woman who had lived out here for so long and borne six children look like she did? Did she often think of her firstborn? He'd heard the woman actually thought the boy might still be alive. He supposed any mother would have to think that or go crazy.

"Would you like something to drink, Mr. Bentley?" she was asking. "Coffee? A little whiskey, perhaps?"

"Actually, I would love some tea. Would you have any?"

Lettie smiled. "Of course. I'll go heat the water." She went back inside, wondering if Luke noticed how Bentley looked at her. Bentley seemed to be on better behavior today, thank God. She was glad Luke was trying out the new breed of cattle, but she would be glad when Nial Bentley was gone. She hoped he didn't intend to visit too often. It made her much too uncomfortable.

Luke and Nial talked for another hour. Lettie served the tea, bringing a shot of whiskey to Luke, then stayed inside the house, away from Nial Bentley's roving eyes. She noticed Luke seemed wary of the man, gave him a few helpful hints on ranching in Montana but not offering a lot of details. She noticed he did not mention his plans to contract with the army. That was one deal he wanted for himself.

Finally Bentley rose and shook Luke's hand. "I'd better be off. Some of my men have made camp a few miles from here. We'll sleep under the stars tonight—too long a ride from here to my place to make it before dark."