Bittner, Rosanne (43 page)

Ty pulled away, old enough to be embarrassed at the embrace. "We miss Paul, too, Ma. You always acted like you were the only one hurting because he died, but it hurt Pa real deep; we all were hurt, especially Robbie."

"I know, Ty."

The boy rose when he heard a horse gallop up to the front of the house. "Maybe that's Pa now." He hurried out, and Lettie got up, quickly taking a handkerchief from her dress pocket and wiping at her tears. The outer door opened and closed, and to her surprise, Ty led Reverend Gooding into the parlor. Her first thought was that he had heard something had happened to Luke. "Reverend! What's wrong!"

The reverend's face showed his sorrow. "I'm afraid it's Henny Doolan," he told her gently. "I know she was your best friend, Mrs. Fontaine. I'm afraid... she passed away this morning. I thought you should know right away."

Henrietta! Her faithful friend! Lettie's whole body suddenly ached with sorrow.

"She died in her sleep, as far as we can tell. I don't think she suffered. I thought, with her husband off with that posse, well, maybe you'd like to handle the funeral arrangements."

Lettie forced herself to stay calm. "Yes. Thank you for thinking of me."

"Poor Will," Ty muttered.

"Yes. Poor Will," Lettie repeated softly. "This will just about kill him." She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. "Hitch the buggy, Ty. We're going into town."

People stared and followed as Luke and the rest of the posse rode into town, heading for the new hall the ranchers had built for local cattlemen's meetings. They were peppered with questions, most of them from Herbert Grass, a new reporter for the
Billings Extra.
Someone sent for the sheriff, and Luke announced that no questions would be answered until he and the others had a private meeting with Sheriff Tracy. Grass was welcome to come inside, but no one from outside the vigilante group would be allowed. They could read about what happened in the paper tomorrow.

Luke was anxious to get the meeting over with and find Lettie, who he knew would be at Will and Henny's place. On his way back with the rest of the posse, he had stopped at home first, only to discover Henny Doolan had died. Ty told him he and Bob Franks had taken Lettie and Robbie and the girls into town for the funeral, but that they had all come back home afterward without Lettie because she wanted to stay behind and get the house in order for Will.

Poor Lettie didn't even know yet that Will was dead, too. He ached at the thought that Lettie had had to bury her best friend alone. How ironic that he in turn had buried Will alone, yet how fitting that Will and Henny had each died without knowing what had happened to the other. Now they were surely together again, and Henny was free of pain. But what about Lettie's pain? What had her best friend's death done to her? He feared she would slip even farther away from him now.

He rode up to the cattlemen's hall and dismounted, then noticed Nial Bentley had been running with the rest of the crowd and had hurried inside the building. Good! So Nial was in town. He probably thought he was safe as long as he was in a crowd or in the meeting with all the other cattlemen. He'd find out differently! Once this meeting was over, he was going to have more than a talk with the Englishman! He was still hurting over Will's death, and seeing Nial only added to his wrath. Before he left the ranch to ride into town, Ty had told him about the incident in the parlor with Nial and Lettie. The bastard had no right trying to sneak into Lettie's life, no right coming around every time Luke was away. He was proud of what Ty had done, but there was still unfinished business between himself and Nial Bentley.

He tied his horse, and he and the rest of the vigilantes filed into the building along with Sheriff Tracy and the reporter. Joe Parker closed and latched the door behind them to keep out the general public. They all sat down, facing the sheriff, and Herbert Grass hastily turned to a clean sheet on his tablet and began scribbling as Tracy asked for a full report.

Luke rose, glancing over at Nial Bentley with an icy glare. He reveled in the way Bentley looked away from him, his face reddening. The bastard! He'd probably try to hurry out with the others once the meeting was over, but he wasn't going to get away with it! He turned to face the sheriff and spoke up. "We found them, shot it out with them." He removed his hat and wiped sweat from his brow. He hadn't even stopped to clean up at the ranch before coming on into town. When he'd heard about Henny, he'd just wanted to get there quickly and get this over with so he could go to Lettie.

"No prisoners?" Tracy asked, eyebrows arched warily.

"They're all dead," Luke answered, "except one that got away. There were three left alive." They had all agreed not to tell about the fourth man that Tex had shot in the head. "We hanged two of them."

The reporter looked up, mouth open, then began scribbling again, obviously excited that he could write about a vigilante lynching.

"We let one man go," Luke continued. "Name of Clyde Baker. He said he didn't have anything to do with Duncan's death or Mrs. Duncan's rape. Said he'd just joined up with the rest of them. I believed him and we let him go. I think the whole matter scared him bad enough that he'll stay out of Montana. The other two were the Walker boys, who we know were in on the Duncan killing. We hanged them on the spot. Most of the cattlemen got back a good share of the horses and cattle that have been stolen over the summer, but we'll probably never get back anything that was stolen before that. It's probably all in Canada."

"Who got away?" Tracy asked.

"Zack Walker, maybe one other man. We're not sure," Luke answered.

"And it was his sons you hanged?" Luke nodded.

"Didn't you already have some trouble with them squatting on the Double L?"

"I chased them off last year," Luke answered. "I thought I'd seen the last of them."

Tracy shifted and cleared his throat. "You'd better watch yourself, Luke. All of you should. You've hanged the man's sons. From what I know about Walker, he's from the deep South, one of those clanny types of men who believes in an eye for an eye. There has been enough bloodshed. Let's hope there isn't any more. No casualties on your side?"

Luke felt the pain pierce at his heart again. "Will Doolan. He's dead."

Tracy closed his eyes. "Damn," he muttered. "This town will sorely miss him." He shook his head. "Now at least the man doesn't have to come home to find his wife dead."

"We heard about that," Luke answered. "My son told us when we stopped at the Double L." He glanced at Nial again. "He filled me in on everything," he added, hinting that he knew about Nial's visit.

"What about your face?" Tracy asked. "What happened?"

"I just got pelted with pieces of broken rock," he answered. "It looks worse than it is."

"Someone should thank Annie Gates for the tip-off," Joe Parker spoke up.

They all laughed lightly, wanting to erase the hurt of Will's death.

"Maybe Luke should do the honors," Nial said snidely. "He seems to be close to her."

The laughter died, none of them appreciating the remark about a man they all respected. The reporter was still writing, and Luke glanced his way. "You write anything about that remark, and you'll never do another story for the
Extra
again," he warned.

Grass reddened. "Oh, no, Mr. Fontaine. I don't report rumors. Only facts."

"What I said
is
a fact," Nial spoke up, now looking braver. "Everybody knows it."

Luke turned to glare at Nial, realizing he was just trying to come up with something he thought he could threaten him with so that Luke wouldn't harm him over what had happened between Lettie and him. "You just opened your mouth one too many times," he told the Englishman, his voice calm but cold.

"Uh, I have a list of names," Calvin Briggs interrupted, trying to change the subject. "We took identification off those that had any before we buried them. There were three men we couldn't identify at all, but we wrote down what they looked like in case anybody ever inquires."

Tracy asked the reporter to write down all the information, and the rest of the men broke into conversation. Bentley rose, walking over to converse with those standing farthest away from Luke, but Luke followed him, planting a powerful grip on the man's arm. "I want to see you, out behind the building."

Nial paled. "Yes, well, can't we talk right here? I mean, if it's about my own missing cattle, I'll send some of my men over to pick them up. Are they at the Double L?"

"What's wrong, Bentley?" Luke sneered. "You don't want to come get them yourself, now that
I'm
home?" Luke kept his voice low, but those standing near could hear.

Nial smiled nervously, casting a desperate look to the others, but he knew by their eyes where their loyalty lay. Luke Fontaine had a score to settle, and they were not about to stop him. There wasn't a man there who didn't respect Luke and Lettie both, and Nial realized that whatever gossip had been circulating, not one of them was going to blame Lettie Fontaine. Suddenly he wished he had not been in town when the posse returned, wished curiosity had not compelled him to come to the meeting; but, after all, he belonged to this group. He had as much right to be here as any of them. "There really is nothing to talk about, Luke," he said, facing the man squarely.

Luke gripped his arm so tightly that the man winced. "Get your ass outside, or I'll make a scene right here and give the reporter something to write about our resident Englishman who likes to move in on other men's wives," he said in a near whisper. "Is that how you want it, Bentley? You want this whole town to ostracize you? And do you want to do that to Lettie?"

Nial swallowed, jerking his arm away and straightening his jacket. He picked up his hat and headed for the back door.

"Keep the rest of the men inside," Luke asked Joe Parker, "especially that reporter."

"Sure, Luke."

Luke hurried after Nial, suspecting the man might try to run off the minute he got outside. He reached the door just as Nial was going through it, and before Nial could turn around, Luke wrapped a strong arm around his throat and dragged him a few feet, then slammed him against the outside wall. "It's time to get something straight, Bentley! I gave you fair warning a long time ago, but you apparently decided not to heed it!" He pressed the man against the wall and clamped a strong hand around his throat so that his eyes began to bulge. "If I ever hear you've come anywhere near my wife again when I'm gone, you're a
dead
man! I don't care if I hang for it! You got that straight?"

Nial managed a nod, and Luke released his grip slightly. "Did you plant ideas in Lettie's head about Annie Gates?"

Nial began to tremble. "I... I only told her what anyone might have. Everyone in town knows you were sleeping with the woman! How could you do that to your wife? She's a wonderful woman who deserves better."

"You don't know anything about my private thoughts and the reasons for anything I do." Luke sneered. "I don't need the likes of you telling me what a good woman Lettie is. She's the mother of my
children,
for God's sake! I'm not going to dignify any of this with explanations about Annie or my marriage or anything else. Lettie and I will straighten out our problems, and
you
will stay
out
of it from here on. Lettie Fontaine is my woman, and don't you ever forget it!"

He released his hold. Nial swallowed, rubbing at his throat and taking deep breaths. He faced Luke, panting. "If you think anything went on between me and Lettie, it didn't. I was simply there to help her, because I happen to love her, and I don't care that you know it. She needed friendship, someone to talk to. God knows
you
weren't around."

Luke's face darkened with rage. "So you thought you'd move right in and take over." He looked the man over with contempt. "You fool! Do you think I'd believe Lettie would ever cheat on her husband? There was nothing like that between you because Lettie Fontaine isn't that kind of woman, no matter how lonely or desperate she might get. It's no thanks to you, though, is it? I heard from Ty how you tried to keep things from getting too serious. You tried so hard, you forced a kiss from her! You forced it because you knew it was the only way you would ever get to touch my wife that way!"

"It wasn't that way—"

"My son doesn't lie!" Luke cut in. He slammed a big fist into Nial's gut, and the Englishman grunted and bent over. Luke grasped hold of the man's collar and raised a booted foot to his privates, then slammed his fist into Nial's left jaw, sending the man sprawling into a pile of empty crates. He walked to stand over the man. "That was my last warning, Bentley! Next time I have to light into you, you'll never get up again!"

Luke turned away and headed back inside, rubbing at a sore right hand, and flexing it. He wiped his bloody knuckles on his pants, then took a deep breath and reentered the cattlemen's hall to get his hat.

"Everything all right, Luke?" Joe Parker asked him.

Luke's blue eyes glittered with satisfaction. "Everything is just fine. Just keep that reporter away from the back alley."

Joe grinned. "There ain't nobody dead back there, is there?"

Luke donned his hat. "No. But he's probably wishing he was." He walked outside and mounted his horse, heading for Will and Henny's place.

Lettie bent down to lay some daisies over Henny's grave. A bird sang in a nearby bush, as though to thank her. She remembered how Henny had loved to sit and watch the birds, how she laughed when her cats would chase them. Three of those cats lay about the gravesite now, following their mistress from the familiar log cabin to the graveyard in town, still wanting to crawl into her lap.

Forty-four. The woman had only been forty-four, but had looked like a shriveled little woman of seventy when she was laid out for visitors.
In this land you need solid friendships.
She remembered Henny telling her those words when they first met. How true they were.
And you need a good, strong man who loves you, no matter what... and if you really love your man, you'll let him live his dream and not try to stop him.