Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,117

people at bay. He put a blanket over Nathan, then stood up in the wagon bed and looked out at the townspeople.

"This young man is our son, and we're taking him home," he told them. "He was only four when he was stolen from us, back when Billings could hardly even be called a town, and when most of you hadn't even come here yet! The boy can't be blamed for the way he is, and no one can prove he killed anybody. I'm damn sorry for what happened to Jim Woodward. He was a good friend of mine, but I'm not going to let you hang my son, not just for his sake, but for my wife's. I'll kill any man who tries to hurt him!"

As he climbed down from the wagon, people stepped back.

"You're askin' for trouble, Luke," one man warned. "His people will come after him, maybe kill all of you."

"I have too much help at the Double L to worry about Indians. And any of you thinking of coming and getting my boy will have to go through my men first!"

"Once you breed wild ways into a man, he can't be changed," another called out. "You keep that boy on the Double L, Fontaine. We can't guarantee what will happen to him if he shows up in town."

Luke turned to see who had spoken. It was Clarence Goodman, a farmer who two years ago had decided to squat on government land rather than file a legal claim. He had put barbed wire around his place, causing injury to several of Luke's steers. Goodman had vacated his farm after Luke and his men tore down the fence and had deliberately allowed Fontaine cattle to graze on Goodman's corn. Luke hated the man for his cockiness, and for not trying to build his farm the right way. He had little use for farmers in general, but he tried to be fair with the ones who were respectful of other peoples' property.

Luke approached Goodman, towering over him. "I can guarantee what will happen to you if you lay a hand on my son!" he growled.

Goodman swallowed, and tried to stand his ground.

"It ain't right—"

"Shut up, Goodman!" Joe Parker spoke the words.

"The boy can't be totally blamed, and if it was any of our kids, we'd want to try to help them, just like Luke's doing. Any mother would want to have her son back. Give them a chance, and let poor Mrs. Fontaine enjoy the fact that she has found her son."

"I'm with Luke," Carl Rose spoke up.

"So am I," Sheriff Tracy put in.

Will and several others voiced their support.

"Which one of you is gonna string up a fourteen-year-old boy in front of his own ma after she's been prayin' to find him for ten years?" Will asked them.

They all looked sheepish, and a couple of women quietly dabbed at their eyes.

"You all remember one thing," Will said then. "That there boy is white! No matter how he looks now or what he's done or how he's been raised, he was born white. He's one of us! He's a victim of our trouble with the Sioux just the same as those who've lost their lives. Luke and Lettie, they come here before most of you, been through hell to help settle this land. Let them take their son home in peace."

The crowd began to disperse. Luke climbed back into the wagon to be with Lettie. Luke's men took hold of the reins to Will's, Luke's, and Lettie's horses to bring them along, and Will perched himself beside Henny in the wagon seat and snapped the reins over the rumps of the mules pulling the wagon. As the wagon lurched forward, Henny looked back in wonder at Nathan, remembering a beautiful, blond little boy who had been playful and loving, always smiling. She remembered how he'd loved to chase her cat, Patch, who had died several years ago.

Lettie was remembering, too... a smiling, gentle child who had once brought her a bouquet of little purple flowers, smiling proudly because he'd made his mommy smile.

White bear opened his eyes, lying still for a moment to gather his thoughts. As his vision focused, he turned his head to see a little red-headed girl staring at him from the doorway. She immediately turned and ran.

"Mommy! Mommy! He's awake!"

White Bear had no idea what the words meant. He only knew he was in a very strange place, lying on a bed so soft it