Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,6

years?

He halted his horse, took a thin cigar from his shirt pocket. And how did he feel about Lettie? At first he had not even considered the possibility of taking a woman and child to Montana. But in just another week or so they would reach the point where the North and South Platte branched off in different directions. He would continue on with the wagon train into Wyoming, then go north into Montana from there. Lettie and her family would head south into Colorado. He could hardly stand the thought of leaving Let-tie MacBride Dougan behind. He was even becoming attached to Nathan. Sometimes when he wasn't hunting, he had kept the boy with him on his horse to relieve Lettie and the others from having to carry him. They did not want the child inside a wagon, for he was too active, and they were afraid he might fall out.

Nathan was easy to love. The hell of it was... so was the boy's mother. Yes, he loved her. And he thought maybe she loved him too. But lately she had been more distant; she seemed angry about something. And she'd started refusing to let Nathan ride with him.

He lit the cigar, urged his horse, a strong, roan-colored gelding, forward at a gentle walk. "What should we do, Red?" he addressed the horse, patting its neck. The animal shuddered and tossed its head. "I don't know either, boy, but I think it's time Mrs. Lettie Dougan and I had a good talk, whether she wants to or not."

He wondered just how bad the Indian situation was up in Montana. He'd been warned that was where the Sioux and Northern Cheyenne, the last of the truly rebellious natives, roamed. Most others were on reservations now, although there was still trouble with the Southern Cheyenne. Even here, some Indians still roamed free, but so far the only ones they had seen were the few who hung around the forts and towns along the trail, begging for handouts. He couldn't help feeling a little sorry for them, imagining how proud they must have been at one time, what fierce warriors they had been, riding free in this big country. But things had a way of changing. It had been like that since the beginning of time, and there was no stopping it.

At least now he understood them a little better. One of the scouts for the wagon train was a Pawnee Indian who spoke English. He'd had nothing good to say about the Cheyenne, but then the two tribes had always been enemies, according to Hank Preston, the wagon master. Still, Luke had asked a lot of questions and learned a lot from Standing Bull about how Indians think, how they fight, how to dicker with them. The Pawnee was even teaching him a little of the Sioux and Cheyenne tongue, and the most common form of communicating with any Indian—a universal sign language. He could only hope that what Indians he might come across in Montana would be willing to talk instead of wanting his scalp.

Other whites had settled in Montana and were surviving. He could do it, too. He wasn't going to let Indians or the tales he'd heard of Montana's harsh winters stop him. And once he'd built the empire he dreamed of, maybe he would invite his father and brother for a little visit and let them see what he'd done all on his own, without Fontaine money.

"Big sky country," that's what Preston called Montana. Before resorting to leading wagon trains west, he had been a rugged scout who had lived out west most of his life, had taught Luke a lot about what to expect out here. As far as Luke was concerned, everything west of the Missouri River was big sky country. He'd never seen such wide-open land. Out here a man felt free; he could dream. He could be anything he wanted to be, and nobody gave a damn about his past.

A loud clap of thunder interrupted his thoughts, and he rode closer to the wagons, noticed they were passing several graves. Apparently this was an area where emigrants from other wagon trains had died. Some of the graves looked old, and it was obvious that in time they would be completely lost to the wind and the sand. This trail had been heavily traveled for a good fifteen years now, and everyone had read plenty of stories about the disasters others had encountered along