Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,140

meant anything, how many times he had been with the woman, or if perhaps there was no truth to it at all.

She almost jumped back when the door opened, and a mustached man wearing an apron scowled at her. She recognized Ben Pritchert, the owner of the Lonesome Tree. "What the hell do you want this time of morning?" He squinted his eyes. "Jesus! Ain't you Luke Fontaine's wife?"

Lettie held her chin high. "I am."

The man looked her over in surprise, and she wanted to die at realizing he probably knew why she had come. "I would like to see Miss Annie Gates, alone. Right here in your back room will suffice."

The man smoothed back what little hair he had, suddenly looking self-conscious. "Well, uh, Mrs. Fontaine, women like Annie, they don't exactly get up early in the mornin' like this. Why don't you come back after twelve?"

"I want to see her now! Go and get her, please." Lettie looked past him into the dark, stuffy storeroom. "I know Annie lives above your saloon with the other town prostitutes." She looked at Pritchert again. "Who, I might add, will someday be banished from Billings, if the women's group has their way."

Pritchert's face reddened a little. "That would hurt my business. Look, lady, don't go runnin' me out of business just because you've got it in for Annie on account of your husband. That's your problem, not mine."

Lettie had to contain herself to keep from hitting the man, but she could not control the crimson color that came to her cheeks. How could she have been such a fool! The whole town knew, and they probably blamed her for not being a good wife! "Please go and get her, Mr. Pritchert. I won't leave until you do. And believe me, that would hurt your business."

The man rubbed at sleepy eyes. "Shit," he muttered. He stepped back. "Come on in and close the door. I can't stand all that sunshine." He turned and left, and Lettie waited with a pounding heart. She had worn a new dress, a soft green summer cotton that fit her still-trim figure and full breasts perfectly. The high neck and the ruffles at the end of the three-quarter-length sleeves were trimmed with white lace, and the waistline was set off by a sash that tied into a wide bow at the back. The front of the skirt was fitted, then gathered into the back in a cascade of ruffles that fell into a short train.

She carried a parasol that matched the dress, wore her auburn hair swept up into curls and topped with a little straw hat with a band of the same material as the dress. Her ears sported tiny diamond earrings. She wanted to look her best, to show Annie Gates that Luke Fontaine's wife was still pretty and slender. She didn't need paint on her face, didn't need to deck herself out in low-cut satin dresses and dangling earrings. She had been here a lot longer than Annie Gates, had done much more to contribute to the growth and taming of Montana and Billings than the whores who came here after the fact to bring their corruption.

She winced at the room's musty smell, glanced at barrels of beer and bottles of whiskey stacked everywhere. This was a world only men understood... and women like Annie. She could not imagine a woman going to bed with just any man, many men. For her it would be like rape, and she well remembered what that had been like. It made no sense to her that a woman could do such a thing, but if she did have such uncontrollable urges, it was easy to understand why she would be attracted to a man like Luke. Any woman would be attracted to him, not just because of his wealth and power, but because of the man himself, his build, his looks... the gentle side of him she had not seen for such a long time. Was he gentle with Annie?

She shivered at the very picture of it. Luke! She had caused him to turn to another woman. The only thing she could be grateful for was that it was someone who could not possibly mean anything to him. What if it had been some young, decent, single woman he had taken an interest in! She might have no chance at all of fixing the damage and getting her husband back. Did he think she had been doing