Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,42

the wagon, one of them cursing about the wound in his leg.

"I can't hold out much longer, Cy," he grumbled. "I think the bullet went clean through, but my knee is killin' me."

"We've got them now," the other man answered. "And there's a woman in there. Hell, if we can clean that bastard out of there, we've got the woman to ourselves and the profit from all them horses only has to be split between you and me. I was sick of Cade always callin' the shots anyway.

That stupid sodbuster in there just conveniently got rid of him for us."

Luke figured his only chance was the element of surprise. He took a deep breath and ran, charging around the end of the wagon and firing point-blank before the startled outlaws had a chance to realize he had got out of the cabin.

Both men went down, but the one with the injured knee raised his six-gun to shoot. Luke quickly fired the rifle again, and the man fell dead.

"Luke! Luke, are you all right!" Lettie screamed from the house.

Luke stared at the dead bodies, startled at how easily he had killed them out of necessity. He knelt down and checked for pulses, felt none. He walked around the wagon to check the other bodies. None were alive. "I'm okay," he called out. "Keep Nathan inside until I can get these bodies out of his sight." He felt a cold sweat begin to envelop him then, as the reality of the fact that he had killed seven men began to sink in. He turned around and vomited on the spot, then wiped at his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

Lettie came running out to him then, ordering Nathan to stay inside. "Luke! Are you sure you're all right? You're not wounded?"

He shook his head, turning away from her. "Just the cut on my back."

Lettie could see that he was shaking. She touched his arm. "Luke, you did what you had to do."

He nodded. "I know, but I... I didn't think I'd kill every one of them. I thought a few would still be alive," he said quietly. He took a deep breath, turning to her with tear-filled eyes. "I killed men in the war, but they were distant, faceless. It was war." He looked around at the bodies again. "I've never killed point-blank like this." He forced a nervous smile, and Lettie knew he was trying to keep from outright crying. "It's a hell of a feeling. Maybe a man gets used to it. Maybe out here he has to get used to it." He sniffed and took another deep breath. "I guess I'd better get them buried. I'll go into town soon and ask what I should do about the horses they had with them."

Lettie gazed at the bloody bodies strewn about, feeling sick herself, but her own nausea came from the realization of how easily Luke could have been taken from her today, and in spite of the fact that he'd had to kill men, she felt safer in his bravery and skill. Yes, Luke Fontaine was made of the right stuff for this country. "They left you no choice, Luke. You heard the things they said. They would have killed you in the blink of an eye if you hadn't got them first, and you know what would have happened to me. It's all right."

He handed her his rifle. "Yeah. The only trouble is, I have a feeling this is just the beginning. These aren't the last men I'll have to kill defending this land and my family. Until there's some kind of law out here, this is the way it will have to be." He looked down at her. "Are you really all right?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry you had to do any shooting at all." He gave her a sad smile. "You did all right."

She burst into tears then. "So did you," she whimpered.

Luke drew her into his arms, and they held each other, the air silent now, no wind, no more gunfire.

Lettie stood holding Nathan while Luke removed his hat and bowed his head. "Lord, if there was any good in any of these men, we hope you'll take them up there with you and forgive them for whatever bad thoughts and actions they were guilty of." He took a deep breath, scanning the eight graves he'd dug close together, seven of the dead laid out by his own bullets. "And forgive me for having to take