Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,123

and headed for the door. "We'll have Nathan's decision within a week or two. By then it will be time for me to leave on the cattle drive. We have to get some things straightened out between us before I go, Lettie, no matter what Nathan decides to do. I feel so far away from you that it's as if you aren't here at all." He turned and walked out.

Lettie wanted to go after him, but she couldn't move. She knew he was right that ever since Nathan had come to live with them, he had become her whole world. She also knew he was right that the boy might leave again. That was why part of her had begun to hate her own husband, just for being so damn right. She felt as though if she lost Nathan again, it would be his fault this time, just for suggesting that could happen.

She got up and quietly washed, then walked to the guest room where Nathan slept. She opened the door. In the moonlight she could see he was not in bed, but was sitting staring out a window. He quickly turned, like an animal on the defense. "It's me. Lettie." She walked toward him. He rose, already standing as tall as she. Lettie quietly put her arms around him, and this time his own came around her in return, an embrace that was more wonderful than anything she had ever experienced. She wept, for she knew in her heart Luke was probably right; but at least God had let her see him and hold him one more time.

Nathan sat up in his bed at the sound, a trilling call, like a night bird. He recognized that call, one used by his Sioux uncle, Stalking Wolf. He was out there somewhere! He quickly but very quietly leaped out of bed, pulling on his moccasins. At night he wore his breechcloth and nothing more, always glad to shed the white man's clothes. He walked on padded feet to the chair where his bone breastplate lay. He tied it on, then picked up the precious folding knife Luke had given him. He walked to a window then. It was a warm night, and the window was open. He leaned out to listen.

There it was again, a soft call that only another Sioux would recognize. It came from a thick stand of trees far off to the east, beyond the gate that led to Luke Fontaine's ranch. He smiled, realizing that if anyone could sneak this close to Fontaine land without being caught, his uncle could. Somehow he had to get out to the man and find out why he had come, how he knew he was even here. He moved his legs over the window ledge and crept along the roof of the first-floor veranda to a side of the house where he knew there were no guards posted. He put the knife between his teeth, and, making no more sound than a rush of air, he grasped the edge of the roof and lowered himself, dropping to the ground. He moved like a shadow, darting from bush to tree to wagon, waiting at each stop to be sure he had not been noticed. He made his way through the night, climbing over the fence far from the entrance, rather than drawing attention by opening the creaky wooden gate. He headed for the stand of trees, taught well how to keep from making any sound as he made his way over fallen twigs and pine cones.

He stopped then, shoved the folding knife into the waist of his breechcloth, and gave his own call. The trilling sound was returned, and he moved toward its source. Several times over he heard it until he was close. "Stalking Wolf," he said in a loud whisper.

"Here!"

Now he could see the man in a shaft of moonlight that came through the trees. With a glad heart he came closer and greeted the man. "How did you know I was here?"

"Half Nose said that you might be. When we told him the white men had caught you, he said that if they let you live, they would bring you here."

Nathan's heart fell a little. So, Half Nose did know who his white parents were and that they were alive. Luke and Lettie had not lied to him.

"Your Sioux father is very sick," Stalking Wolf told him. "He wishes to see his son before he dies. He fears you