of landmarks and so forth."
"Well, technically, under the Homestead Act, you're only supposed to claim a hundred and sixty acres," Will told him in a rich, gruff voice. He winked then. "But Taylor can be convinced to stretch that some. I'll be glad to let you stake out another hundred and sixty in my name, another section in Henny's name. You can even claim more in your wife's maiden name." He grinned. "There's ways of gettin' around the law out here, Luke. You remember that. Me, I'm too old to worry about gettin' really big. I'm happy with the five hundred acres I've got. But from what you've told me about your plans for raisin' cattle, you'll need a lot more than that. I'll help you get it however I can. I'm just glad to see new people come in. A man can build an empire up here, if he's smart and willin' to work hard and put up with the danger and hardships." The man glanced at Lettie. "It can be real hard on a woman, though, sometimes harder than on the man."
"I can already see that, Will," Lettie answered the man. She looked at Luke, saw the apology in his eyes. "Someday we'll be glad for what we put up with in the beginning." She looked back at Will. "If Luke says he'll be a rich man someday and I'll have a fine home, I believe him."
Will grinned again, looking back at Luke. "You've got one hell of a woman there, Luke, brave, and pretty to boot. She's already given you one son, and if she can give you more, that's just all the more free help you'll have down the road. Have as many kids as you can. I guess I would have tried harder to build my place into somethin' bigger if I had kids to inherit it, but it's just me and Henny, so we don't need much more."
Lettie noticed the fallen look on Henrietta's face, and her heart went out to the woman. She was sure Will didn't mean for his remark to hurt, but how could it not? Nathan squirmed to get down, and he clung to the horse as he pointed to Patch with a scowl. He watched the cat carefully, staying close to his mother.
"I'll say one thing," the man continued, "a man couldn't ask for a better woman than my Henny, or a better cook. How's that stew comin', Henny?"
"It will be ready in a few minutes." The woman poured Luke and Will a cup of coffee.
Will leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his beard. "Now, as far as the Indians, you're better off lettin' them take a horse or two once in a while than to try to fight them," he warned Luke. "I know that sounds ridiculous, but for the trouble they can cause, it's worth losin' a few horses now and then. They're still pretty free up here, and until the war is over and the army can concentrate on helping people like us, we're on our own in land the Sioux figure is theirs by right. You rile somebody like Half Nose, and you've got big trouble."
"I'll keep that in mind," Luke answered. "But I'm not going to just sit and watch from the front porch while they pick and choose through my herds at will."
Lettie fought her horror at the thought of Indians. The morning they discovered Red was gone, the moccasin tracks in the snow had told them what had happened. That Indians had been so close by without their even knowing it had made Lettie sick with fear. She was sure Luke had felt the same fear, but he was determined not to show it, and his anger at being "taken" had far outweighed any fear he'd felt.
"Takes a special kind of dealin' to get along with the Sioux," Will was saying.
Lettie offered to help Henny serve the stew, but the woman refused. "I enjoy having the company," she insisted. "You've got your work cut out for you the next few weeks. When you get a chance to relax, enjoy it."
Lettie took heart from the visit. If she could have something at least as decent as this warm log house, she would be happy. Maybe some day she and Luke would have closer neighbors, women with whom she could visit, make quilts, talk about children.
For the rest of the evening the men talked about horses and cattle and the future of Montana;