to greet your husband. I see he is up on his feet at last."
As always, Lettie wasn't sure how to take the man's compliments. "Yes, Luke is almost back to normal."
Almost? Nial followed her to where Luke stood. Was the man well enough to make love to his wife again? Oh, how he would love to have that pleasure himself. He greeted Luke with a smile and a handshake. "You'll have your cattle by July, Luke," he told the man. "I just received correspondence from my Wisconsin ranch two days ago. They'll be shipped out by rail in May, then herded to Billings, where your men can take over. It's costing me a fortune for the twenty rail cars it will take to carry them all, and I'll make no profit, but it's worth it to get someone to try the breed. If it's a success, I'm sure I'll get the other ranchers to buy in."
Luke glanced at Lettie, then set one crutch against a table and used his free arm to put around her shoulders. "Maybe we can let the other ranchers know when they'll arrive so they can be there to see the stock."
Nial noticed Luke's possessive gesture. "Yes, I'll see about that. There are others interested, but the heavy snows this winter kept them from coming to my ranch to see for themselves. The men you sent last fall to have a look seemed very impressed. I'm sure you were relieved when you heard their opinion."
"I take it your Herefords made it through the winter with no problems?" Luke was asking.
Nial kept his smile. He liked Luke Fontaine, yet part of him hated the man for being married to the only woman he had truly wanted since his own wife died six years ago. "No problems," he answered. "I do hope you and your wife will come visiting this summer. I have a building crew there that I hired back in Wisconsin, who started constructing my new home last fall. It will be made completely of stone, which they are bringing in from the mountains by the wagonful. It is quite a project. You really must see it. I am fashioning it after my family home in England—bringing a bit of my country to Montana, you might say, although this lonely man certainly does not need such a big home. Still, it helps relieve my homesickness." He realized perhaps he could impress Lettie Fontaine with his money and the castle of a home he was building. Her husband was rich enough in his own right, but not a man who could dip into the almost endless old money that he could. What did he have left to impress her with besides his wealth? "Fifteen rooms and a ballroom," he added. "When it is finished, I intend to hold some sort of gala event there every summer, perhaps a big cookout and a dance for everyone for miles around who wishes to come."
His eyes rested on Lettie on the last words.
"Do you miss England, Nial?" Lettie asked.
"Oh, yes, but as I told you last fall, this country is as beautiful as anything I have ever seen, and so big! I could never be completely happy in England again after this. I have decided to make this my permanent home, which is why I'm building my 'stone castle,' as some of the men call it."
The little band struck up a waltz, and the wife of one of Billings's new arrivals, Sidney Greene, a lawyer, came up and grabbed Nial's arm. Mrs. Greene introduced him to her sixteen-year-old daughter, Chloris, a modestly pretty girl who looked very embarrassed when her mother insisted that she dance with Nial, who kindly obliged.
Luke pulled Lettie closer then. "Every mother with a marriageable daughter within two hundred miles of here will be trying to hitch them up with the wealthy Lord Bentley," he said with a hint of sarcasm.
Lettie smiled, turning to face him. "He never said he was a lord."
Luke scowled, setting his other crutch aside and leaning on her for support, putting both arms on her shoulders and bending closer. "Whatever he is, he's still infatuated with you. You sure you wouldn't like to go and live in that fancy castle and be the wife of an Englishman?"
Lettie laughed, grasping hold of his powerful forearms. "If I did, I would be a terribly unfaithful wife." She studied his blue eyes, a surge of desire rushing through her with such intensity that she