Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,122

stayed here, the weaker he felt he was becoming. If it wasn't for the pathetic love and hope he saw in his white mother's eyes, he would already have left.

Luke climbed into bed, wearing nothing because of the hot night. He watched Lettie brush her hair. She wore a sleeveless cotton gown, and he thought how beautiful she still was for a woman of thirty years who had borne six children— beautiful but untouchable lately. For the last three weeks her whole world had been wrapped around Nathan, teaching him, watching him, afraid to let him out of her sight for one second.

"Lettie, the other children are starting to feel neglected."

She put down her brush and faced him. "They just have to understand. As soon as Nathan begins to feel that he belongs here, I won't have to give him so much time and attention."

Luke sighed, lying back into his pillow. "Do you know how it makes me feel to know what it will do to you if you lose him again? I've carried the guilt for ten years, Lettie. It will just be worse if this doesn't work out the way you think it will."

Lettie came over to the bed and got in beside him. "I've told you a hundred times I never blamed you, Luke. Now I just want you to believe Nathan is back to stay. He's learning more every day, and he—"

"Stop it, Lettie!" He turned on his side, resting on one elbow and reaching an arm around her. "You know damn well he's only biding his time. I can see it in his eyes!"

"You're wrong."

"I'm not wrong! I wish to hell he'd never been found in the first place. It would have been easier on you than this!"

Her eyes widened, misting with tears. "How can you say such a thing?"

"Because it's true! You know damn well how much I love that boy. If I thought for one minute he was really happy here and wanted to stay, I would myself be the happiest man alive. But his heart is out there on the plains and in the mountains now, Lettie, with a people he calls his own. The Indian spirit is very powerful. It will call him back."

A tear slipped down the side of her face. "More powerful than a mother's love?"

God, how the words hurt. How could he look into those green eyes and tell her the truth? "Maybe," he answered. "I've talked to Runner a lot about it. He doesn't think you should get your hopes up."

She jerked in a sob. "He's my little boy. My son. How dare you tell me not to hope and believe!"

"My God, Lettie, I love you more than my own life. Do you think I like any of this? You've got to remember you have other children who need you, a husband who needs you! We're all here and we love you. If Nathan goes off again—"

"I won't listen to it!" She turned her face away.

Luke put a big hand to her face and made her look back at him. "I need you, Lettie. I need you to be a wife to me, to look at me as though you realize I still exist. The kids need that, too." He leaned down to kiss her lightly, but she lay there unresponsive. Luke angrily jerked off her drawers and moved between her legs, forcing them apart with his knees. He pushed himself inside her out of sheer need, moving rhythmically until he felt the necessary release of pent-up emotion and desire, but through the entire intercourse he got no response from her. He relaxed then, pulling away and resting beside her.

"You're so far away, Lettie. I feel as though I've lost you."

"Then you shouldn't keep telling me I might lose my son again. How can I respond to a man who says he wishes my son had never been found?"

Luke angrily threw back the covers and got up, pulling on his long johns. "For Christ's sake, you know I only meant that for what it would do to you! Do you think I didn't pray every day for years that we'd find him? You know goddamn well the hell I went through searching for him, the hell I've been through thinking you blamed me. It's pretty damn obvious now that you do blame me, or you wouldn't be acting this way!" He pulled on his pants.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside to have a smoke." He pulled on a shirt