Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,74

good weapons. You men divide them up among yourselves." Luke grunted when he bent down then to pick up his hat. He mounted his horse, a big roan gelding he'd chosen to replace Paint, who was getting too old to hold up on a cattle drive. "Billy, get yourself a clean blanket and wrap it around that quarter of beef. You take it home to Anne and you can have a royal meal. Have her cut some off for the rest of the men." He rubbed at his right calf. The old wound still hurt him whenever he did anything strenuous. "It's too bad they let the rest of the carcass go like that. If it had been gutted and wasn't covered with flies, I'd take it back and get some use out of the meat. What a damn waste!"

"Now you know how the Indians feel when they see the same thing happen to the buffalo," Runner commented.

Luke nodded, the pain of Nathan's capture still hitting him hard at times. He wanted to hate the Sioux, and most of the time he did. But there was a part of him that could understand how they felt. There ought to be a way the Indians and whites could share the land, but drastically different cultures prevented that. Though he didn't believe Nathan was alive, if he was, he might be out there living with those Indians who still refused to go to a reservation. He might be dependent on the buffalo for survival.

He turned his horse, telling himself it was a foolish thought. After all these years, none of the Crow or Shoshone scouts he had checked with from time to time had heard anything about a white captive with the Sioux, or a "white Indian," who rode with them. He had never quite given up his search, but he knew it was hopeless. It was Lettie who wouldn't give up believing Nathan was still alive, and he didn't have the heart to try to discourage the thought. It helped her to believe it.

Billy wrapped the cooked meat and tied it onto his horse. "Let's get the hell home, boys," Luke told them. He kicked his horse into a gentle lope, heading north across Double L country.

This far out he considered the land his simply because his cattle and horses sometimes grazed here. It really belonged to the government, but who the hell cared? They weren't doing anything with it, and he intended to fence it off eventually, adding to his empire. A lot of ranchers did that now—used the land beyond their own borders for grazing. It was necessary in order to feed herds that got bigger every year. In a couple of weeks cattle agents would be bringing him more sturdy stock from Oregon and California. He needed a good half-million acres for enough grassland to feed his growing herds, which numbered close to eight thousand now. Soon there would be more, meaning he would need even more land. He would get it, one way or another; but the powers that be in Washington were reluctant to give up too much land, wanting to save it for the railroad, wary that there might be valuable minerals under a lot of it. What he and the other ranchers in Montana needed was to gather together and force their hand to get what they needed. He had formed the Cattlemen's Association, an organization still young. They would be holding their second meeting in only three weeks. Similar groups were forming in Colorado, Utah, Wyoming. It was time for Montana ranchers to band together and protect their land and their rights, encourage the government to send more soldiers out here to alleviate the continued danger from renegade Indians, allow the ranchers to claim more land.

He removed his hat and ran an arm over his face and hair to wipe away more dirt and sweat. He hated to go home to Lettie this way. But after all these weeks away, she wouldn't much care how he looked when he got there. She in turn would look damn good to him... and feel damn good in bed tonight.

CHAPTER 12

Katie MacBride looked up from her plate of beef and potatoes to study the son-in-law she had not seen in nine years. His reunion with Lettie and the children when he'd arrived home this evening had been warm, full of excitement and questions. It was obvious he was a good husband and father, but she had