Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,57

to his feet to stop him. The warrior who stood over him with the rifle whacked him on the side of the head and he fell helplessly to the floor. Lettie struggled to get free of the two braves who still held her arms. Katie was screaming in terror, hanging on to her mother's dress.

When Lettie was finally released, she grabbed Katie and ran to the door, screaming Nathan's name. Outside, the rest of the Indians rushed past her, one of them shoving her out of the way. They mounted up and rode off. In the distance Lettie could hear war whoops and the sound of many horses —Luke's horses, being stolen. Half Nose had already ridden off with Nathan, and Lettie sank to the ground at the fading sound of her son's screaming as he disappeared into the night.

A cold spring rain fell as Lettie drove the buckboard through the muddy main street of Billings, past people who stared curiously at the woman who drove the wagon with a blank stare on her face, letting the rain soak her wool jacket. Syd Martin, the owner of the general store, realized first that something was wrong. Luke had already been to town once this spring, and he'd mentioned his wife was carrying again, due in only a couple of months. He had left her home because he didn't think it would be good for her to be riding in a bouncing, jolting wagon at this stage of her pregnancy, yet here was Lettie Fontaine, driving the wagon herself.

"Mrs. Fontaine!" The man ran out to catch the mules, realizing the woman hardly seemed to know where she was. "Is something wrong?" He managed to slow the mules enough to climb up into the wagon while it was still rolling and take the reins from Lettie. "Mrs. Fontaine?"

"Syd." The man's name came in a groan from the back of the wagon. Syd looked back to see Luke lying in the wagon bed, also getting rain soaked. Little Katie sat beside her father, who was holding a rain slicker over the child to keep her dry. Syd could see Luke's face was bruised and swollen, and there were long, scabbed streaks down one side of his face.

"Luke! What the hell has happened?"

"Get us to Will Doolan's," Luke answered, grimacing as he struggled to sit up. "I've got... to get a posse together... go after... Half Nose. He took our son... Nathan."

Syd closed his eyes, hardly feeling the rain that began running off the brim of his hat and dripping into his lap. "Jesus," he whispered. He looked at Lettie, his heart aching at the look on her face. She seemed almost to be in a trance. He took the reins from her and slapped them against the rumps of the mules, heading them out of town to Will's place. "Indians!" he called out to several people who had gathered to stare. "They took Luke Fontaine's boy! Get some men together and come on out to Will Doolan's!"

Lettie almost vomited at the words. They took Luke Fontaine's boy. Where was her precious little Nathan? Would Half Nose kill him? Keep him to raise as his own? If he let him live, would he be allowed to keep his stuffed horse? She had made that horse for him with her own two hands. As long as he had it with him, he could have a little piece of her heart with him also, and he might be all right, be a little bit comforted. There was so much to grieve over, she couldn't bear to think about any of it. Zeb, Horace, Jim... all dead... butchered. Because of her condition and the need to get help for Luke and find someone who might be able to go after Nathan, she couldn't stop to bury the three men whom she had grown to care for very much. Even poor Pup was dead. Most of the horses had been stolen. Luke's beating had surely set back his recovery, yet he was determined to join whatever posse could be gathered to go after Nathan. Would the beating and his insistence on joining a search party kill him? He was not well enough for this, but she knew how badly he was suffering on the inside, blaming himself.

Who was to blame? Luke, for coming here in the first place? The savage Indians? Half Nose had lost a son. He wanted revenge. At the moment she could understand the feeling.