Wildest Dreams - By Rosanne Bittner Page 0,95

about cattle and running a ranch than any of them had thought at first.

"With all her note taking, perhaps Mrs. Fontaine can write up a summary for us of everything we discuss here today," Bentley added.

Lettie glanced his way and saw him smiling at her. She was flattered that the man seemed to be quite attracted to her, but it also upset her. No man should look at a married woman the way Nial Bentley was looking at her. She turned her gaze to the others. "I'd be glad to, if that is what everyone wants."

Briggs nodded. "We'd appreciate it, Mrs. Fontaine. Next meeting, you can read back your notes. In the meantime, I want everybody to bring a piece of rawhide to the next meeting with your brand burned into it. We're corresponding with a printer from Cheyenne, trying to talk him into coming to Billings and opening a newspaper here. With his equipment, he could print up some registration sheets, showing everybody's brand. By this time next year I'd like to be organized enough that we have files on all these things, records of what we discuss. Cattlemen are getting organized in other territories and states. We want to keep up. We could eventually have a lot of power in setting laws for our benefit when we become a state ourselves someday."

"Well, I vote we don't go electin' no president until Luke can start comin' to the meetin's," Will said. "He's the biggest landowner around here and should have the most say anyway."

They all took a round of votes and agreed to wait for Luke.

"I appreciate that," Lettie told them. "Luke will, too." She looked at Nial Bentley then. "Now, I would like to hear what Mr. Bentley has to say about a new kind of cattle."

"Ain't no fancy new breed gonna survive Montana winters," Will claimed.

"These will," Bentley answered. "And if you sell your beef by the pound, they'll make you a fortune."

"I say we take a little break first and stretch our legs a bit, go outside and have a smoke so it doesn't bother Mrs. Fontaine," Carl Rose suggested. "Twenty minutes. That's enough time to walk across the street to the Lonesome Tree Saloon and have a swallow of whiskey."

They all readily agreed to the suggestion, up and out of their chairs in the next breath and heading out the door. Will went with them, and Lettie leaned down to put a cork in her ink bottle. When she straightened, she realized that Nial Bentley had stayed behind. "Aren't you anxious to puff on a cigar and gulp some whiskey like the rest of them?" she asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, I like my tobacco and good whiskey as well as any man," he answered. He got up and walked closer. "I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to tell you I think you're one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, Mrs. Fontaine, and surprisingly refined and gracious for these parts. I didn't know such a woman existed out here."

Lettie looked up at him, not sure how to take the remark. "Mr. Bentley, I appreciate the compliment, but I would also appreciate it if you would stop looking at me the way you have been all through this meeting. It is annoying and embarrassing. I am, after all, a married woman, and you are a widower. I will remind you that most of these men are good friends of Luke's. I don't care to have them wondering at the way you look at me. Being the only woman here is difficult enough. I hate to appear rude, but from now on, please keep your compliments and your stares to yourself."

The man bowed, grinning. "My humblest apologies. I didn't mean anything disrespectful, I assure you. It is just refreshing to find someone like you out here. I do hope your husband appreciates what he has."

Lettie drew in her breath in irritation. "Luke Fontaine is a good man, and one, I daresay, you would not want to tangle with. And whether or not he appreciates his wife is really none of your business, is it, Mr. Bentley?"

The man reddened a little. "No. It really isn't. Please forgive me, Mrs. Fontaine. I hope I haven't offended you to the point that I would not be welcome if I should come visiting the Double L. I would like to meet your husband, and I would like to tell him in person about the new breed