Luke looked at Lettie again. She knew he hated this place. If he had a million dollars he could never live like this. "No, I sure haven't," he answered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Lawrence's parents are gone right now," Pearl explained. "We had no idea just exactly when you would arrive. You must both be so tired after several days on a train."
"We rented a private car," Luke told her. "We were pretty comfortable."
"It seemed so strange to come back East," Lettie put in.
"After twenty-two years, here we are, both not so far from where we started out. Whoever would have thought back then that we could come back by train in just a few days, after that trip to Montana by wagon?"
"Oh, we want to hear the whole story!" Lawrence told them. "But wait until my parents arrive. We have never talked to true pioneers, people who went west on a wagon train! We want to hear it all, Mr. Fontaine, what happened in the beginning and all. Pearl tells me you have scars from a grizzly bear attack!"
Luke felt embarrassed, as though he were a side show. "I didn't do anything more than any of the other early settlers—nothing so special."
"Oh, Father, you're being modest!" Pearl walked over to Lawrence and took his arm. "Father fought a grizzly, fought Indians, outlaws, rustlers. He even rode once with vigilantes. Now he's on the territorial legislature." She smiled at Luke. "You can't imagine what a thrill I got reading about it in the Chicago papers!" she added. "My own father, way out in Montana, making the Chicago papers!"
Luke studied her lovingly. At eighteen, she was a most beautiful creature, looking like a woman now. Where had the years gone?
He watched Lettie, knew by the looks she gave him that she was thinking the same thing. They never could have predicted such events when they first left her parents in Nebraska to go off on their own. The things they had been through made him love her all the more, and he was glad to be able to bring her here. Pearl chattered about a couple of plays she wanted to take them to, as well as a fancy restaurant downtown, and, of course, the concert. They were being married in the biggest Lutheran church in Chicago, she explained. "Everybody who is anybody will be there, and they are all anxious to meet you and Father. They are so impressed with him being one of the biggest landowners in Montana, and a politician now on top of it." She looked at Luke. "I hope you don't get tired of all the questions, Father, because I know you'll be inundated with them." She turned back to Lettie. "Wait until Lawrence's parents and their friends meet you, Mother! You're just as lovely and elegant as any of them. And I can't wait until you come to the theater and hear the symphony. It will be so thrilling for you and Father!"
Luke only wanted to get the hell out, back to the quiet peace of the Double L, back into his denim pants and soft shirts. He hated wearing a suit every day, and the uncomfortable shoes Lettie had insisted he wear. His old leather boots would do just fine. He couldn't hear the rest of Lettie's and Pearl's conversation, as Lawrence was back to asking him questions while the butler brought in a tray that held several long-stemmed glasses and a bottle of wine. Robbie followed, joining them in the parlor.
"Have you actually killed men?" Lawrence asked.
"Sure he has!" Robbie answered before Luke could. "He shot seven men once who tried to take his land away when he first settled in Montana. They're still buried on our property! And when he was a vigilante, he hanged two men!"
Luke cast him a frown. "That's not exactly the way to tell it, Robbie. It's not as though I enjoyed it." He looked at Lawrence. "A man never enjoys killing another man. Robbie hasn't explained the details."
The butler handed out a glass of red wine, and Luke took it, thanking the man.
"Oh, you don't have to thank Oscar. It's his job," Lawrence explained.
Luke sipped a little of the wine, holding his temper. "Where I come from, you thank people for things, even the people who work for you," he answered, obvious irritation in his voice.
Lawrence seemed to wither a little. "Oh! I'm sorry. I guess it's just the difference in our