“But you should have come here then,” Dianne declared. “You could have easily worked on a wagon train and paid your way west in labor.”
“I wish I had. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy.” He smiled down at her. “Let’s not dwell on the past. My only reason for bringing it up was to encourage you. Zane is strong. He’ll get through this.”
Dianne squeezed her brother’s arm. “Will you ever share your past with me? Can we ever regain the closeness we used to have?”
Trenton shook his head. “There’s nothing there worth sharing. Nothing at all.”
CHAPTER 5
THE HEAT OF LATE AUGUST AND THE LACK OF NEWS FROM Colonel Gibbon and his men made for testy spirits on the Diamond V. Dianne settled into her routine, caring for Luke and overseeing the household alongside Koko, but her mind was ever on Zane and the threat of Indian attack.
News had come that the Sioux and Cheyenne had escaped to parts unknown. The thought filled Dianne with grave concern. If the Sioux headed for the Big Horn Mountains, as was suggested, it wouldn’t be that difficult for them to travel west and up through the Yellowstone area. It would be simple to continue north through the Madison River valley. The thought left her sleepless at times.
Six-year-old Susannah Vandyke clattered the dirty breakfast dishes as she helped her mother begin to clean up. Dianne’s nerves were already stretched taut, and when a glass fell to the floor and shattered, she jumped up from the table.
“Koko, please just leave the dishes and the broken glass. I’ll take care of it.”
“Susannah should clean up the mess she’s made,” Koko countered softly. Turning to her daughter, she instructed, “Go get the broom and dustpan.” The dark-eyed girl, who looked very much like her mother, nodded and hurried from the kitchen.
Jamie, Koko’s nine-year-old son, got to his feet. “Uncle Cole, do you think the Sioux will attack us?”
It was the last topic of conversation Dianne wanted to hear, yet at the same time it was the only thing on people’s minds.
“I don’t know, Jamie. I guess there’s probably more concern about other tribes hearing about what the Sioux did and trying to imitate it.”
“Why?” Dianne asked, sitting back down. “Why would peaceful tribes begin to fight?”
“Because it worked for the Sioux and Cheyenne,” Cole replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve already heard rumors about problems on some of the reservations. If they think an uprising will return them to their old way of life and restore the buffalo to the plains, then they might rise up to make a stand.”
Susannah returned with the broom and dustpan, and Koko instructed her on how to best clear the mess away. Dianne wished they’d all go about their business so she could ask Cole the questions on her heart. She didn’t want to frighten the children.
When the little girl finished her work, Dianne said, “You did a wonderful job, Susannah.” Dianne then looked to Koko. “Please. Go ahead. I know you have plans to go down to the river and teach the children about the plants and herbs.” Koko seemed to understand Dianne’s urgency.
Koko took the dustpan from Susannah and motioned for her son. “Come along. It’s time for school.”
Dianne waited until they’d gone before turning to her husband. “Do you think we should make some kind of hiding place? I mean, there are the children to consider, and if the Sioux come this way … well …”Her words trailed off.
“I don’t know that it would help us much. If the Sioux have remained together, that would mean there are thousands of them,” Cole said, pushing back from the table. “If they make it to this valley, there probably won’t be anyplace to hide. Several thousand people can cover a lot of territory. Honestly, I think there’s a bigger threat from some of the other tribes. Some of the area men are planning to meet the day after tomorrow. I guess we’ll discuss what kind of protective plan we can form at that point.”
“We’ve never had to worry about the Indians before,” Diane said. “I mean, with Koko’s brother traveling freely with the Blackfoot, we’ve generally known safety. Other tribes knew we were sympathetic and friendly. Why, we’ve even traded cattle with them.”
“Times are changing.” Cole grew thoughtful. “Seems we’ve been having our battles with the Indians since first coming west.”
Dianne wondered if Cole was remembering the time he’d been taken by the Sioux and later by the Blackfoot. He never spoke much about that time, and once when she’d asked Koko’s brother, Takes Many Horses—the man responsible for rescuing her husband—about it, Cole had merely admonished her to let the matter rest and ask no more.
Dianne gave a little shudder. “They’re getting desperate.”
“Yes. And desperation makes people do things they’d otherwise never attempt. We’ve seen enough of that out here just trying to make our way. The Indians have seen their entire way of life changed. The buffalo and elk aren’t nearly as plentiful. Settlers are fencing off the land and building towns. The Indians have no place in any of it.”
“And reservation life isn’t really any life at all,” Dianne commented. “Not when you consider the freedom the tribes have enjoyed for generations. Freedom to roam at will.”
Cole heaved a sigh. “The government will win this one.
We’ve seen it over and over in history. They’ll round up every last Indian until they have them all contained where they want them. They did it in the eastern states; they’ll do it here as well.”
“But at what cost?”
“That’s always the question, isn’t it,” he more stated than asked. “Look, I’d better get to work. I can’t say it would do much good to dig ourselves a hole to hide in. Caution, I guess, is the best answer. I’ll post some men several miles out in each direction. They can let us know if Indians appear to be moving this direction.”
“And then what?” Dianne asked, knowing the answer wouldn’t be good.
“Then I guess we’ll run in the opposite direction. We’ll head to whatever town is closest and warn them as well. I’ll make sure we have our fastest mounts here in the corral. Maybe you should figure out a way to pack Luke Indian-style or some other such way so you can both ride a horse instead of a wagon. A wagon ain’t gonna move fast enough for much of an escape.”
“All right,” Dianne said, meeting his eyes. “I won’t lie and say I’m not frightened, but I think I’m more scared for Zane. I just wish we could have word.”
Cole smiled. “I know, but it’s times like these that we have to trust God more than ever. You’ve helped me to learn that. We can’t put our trust in appearances.”
His words warmed her heart. “I know you’re right, and I promise to try harder.”
“Good morning,” Portia Langford declared as she swept into the room.
Dianne got up from the table, as did Cole. “Good morning,” Dianne greeted. “There’s some breakfast warming for you on the back of the stove if you’re hungry. You know the way to the kitchen.”
It was the same routine most every morning. The rest of the household was awake and fed long before Portia even managed to make her way out of bed. The woman was clearly used to being done for instead of having to do for herself, but at least now she seemed to understand that no one had time to wait on her.
Dianne couldn’t help but grin when she thought back to those first few days when Portia constantly complained about the need for a maid.
“I’ll just have some tea, thank you,” Portia said, moving off toward the kitchen.
“When all of this is settled,” Cole said softly, “I do think it would be wise to hire a cook and housekeeper.”
“We’ve been talking about doing that since Uncle Bram first built this house,” Dianne replied. “Koko and I really don’t feel the need. Sure, it’s a lot of work, but Faith is good to help with the cooking from time to time, and sometimes Charity comes over to help with the housework.”
“But the children are needing more and more attention. Koko has her hands fu
ll just trying to school Jamie and Susannah. One day it’ll be the same for you with Luke and—” he paused with a grin—“any other children we might have.”
Dianne felt her cheeks grow warm but said nothing. Cole came to her and pulled her close. Kissing her long and passionately, Dianne temporarily forgot about the Indians and other conflicts. This was the only place she truly felt safe.
“Please be careful,” she whispered as Cole pulled away.
“Stop worrying. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.” He left then, passing Portia as she came back into the dining room.
“They always say that,” the older woman murmured.
“Say what?” Dianne asked as she began picking up the dirty dishes.
“That everything will be all right. Every man I’ve ever known has always said the same thing. ‘Don’t worry, Portia, everything will be all right.’ But it never is,” she said sadly.
Dianne felt a chill run through her body. “We must have hope.”
“Hope doesn’t get you very far at the deathbed of someone you love.” Portia’s words were laced with a bitterness Dianne couldn’t begin to understand.
“I’ve lost many people I loved,” Dianne began slowly. “It’s never easy.”
“Now I may lose my father … and then what?” Portia questioned. “I have no one else. No one at all.”
“What about Ned’s folks? You mentioned when you first came here that they’re still living. Couldn’t you go back to them?”
The dark-haired beauty shook her head. “Hardly. They were never very kind to me. They felt Ned could have done better for himself. Imagine that. I was a rich widow. I certainly didn’t need the Langford money to see me through. Yet they still thought Ned had lowered himself to marry me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Portia. There’s no accounting for how some people feel. You simply have to face it and go forward.”
“If my father doesn’t return, I’ll have to figure out some way to go forward. I can’t remain here forever.”
Dianne got the distinct impression Portia was hoping she would contradict her. But where the widow was concerned, Dianne had always felt uneasy. She knew Trenton didn’t like Portia at all, and she respected his opinion—he had spent more time with Portia than anyone.
“Well, there’s no use in fretting,” Dianne said, gathering the last of the silver. “I need to go see to these. If you should get bored, we’ll be doing some canning today and later some laundry.”
“In this heat?”
Dianne smiled. “The vegetables won’t wait until it’s cooler. We’ve set everything up outside so as not to cause the house to grow too hot. You’re welcome to come and lend a hand.”
“I know nothing about it,” Portia said, focusing on her tea.
“Well, maybe it’s time to learn. Then when your father returns, you’ll be very useful to him.”
“I can hardly imagine he’ll see it that way.”
Dianne shrugged. “You can never tell what a person will think or feel until you give him a chance.”
Two days later the canning was nearly done, without any help from Portia. Dianne wiped the outside of a jar of tomatoes as she considered what was to be done about the very idle Mrs. Langford. It was one thing to be a guest staying only a few days, but the woman had been with them for nearly two months, and her inability to help around the house was taxing. Dianne supposed the only way to make a change was to simply assign Portia some duties.
“She won’t like it,” Dianne muttered.
“Who won’t like it?” Koko asked.
Dianne looked up at her aunt. The woman looked very much like her Blackfoot ancestors today. She had chosen to wear a simple dress of deerskin and her hair was plaited in two long black braids. “I was thinking that we should assign Portia some jobs around the place.”
Koko smiled. “You’re right. She won’t like it.”
“I’ve never met a woman who liked to sit around idle as much as that one. She doesn’t even read or sew. She just sits there staring out the window or rocking on the porch.”
“She gives a fair try at complaining,” Koko teased.
“No trying about it. That woman has complaining down to an exact form. She knows very well how to get under the skin of anyone around her.”
“Listen,” Koko said, cocking her head. “Riders.”
Dianne exchanged a glance with her aunt and fear gripped her heart. Riders these days weren’t always the welcome kind. Dianne moved for the shotgun that leaned against the house. “Go be with the children.”
Dianne edged to the corner of the house and immediately exclaimed, “Zane!”
She turned to Koko. “It’s Zane, and he has a young woman with him.”
Koko came and joined her. “Maybe he’s taken a wife.”
“I suppose that’s possible. Come on. Let’s go greet them.”
Dianne was so relieved to see her brother again that she completely forgot about the shotgun in her hands.
“I hope you aren’t intending to use that on me,” Zane said good-naturedly. “Especially since I brought you a wonderful surprise.” He slid from his horse and Dianne rushed into his arms.
“We’ve been so worried. We heard about the battle at Little Big Horn. We weren’t sure whether you were dead or alive.” She pushed away and studied Zane for a moment. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”
“No. I’m just fine.” His expression was quite animated. “I have a surprise for you.”
“So you’ve said.” Dianne looked past Zane to the young woman who sat with head bowed atop the back of a sorrel mare. She wore a cradleboard on her back.
Zane left Dianne and helped the woman down from the horse. He brought her gently to where Dianne stood. “I hope this doesn’t come as too much of a fright, but God has given us back something very precious.”
The woman lifted her face and Dianne gasped. It was like staring into the face of her mother. She felt lightheaded and was afraid she might faint.
“It’s Ardith, Dianne. I found her. Or actually, God brought her to me.”
The two women locked their gazes. It was as if they searched each other’s eyes for answers to a decade’s worth of questions.
“I can’t believe it.” Dianne’s eyes filled with tears. “Ardith, is it really you?”
“Yes,” the woman whispered. “I’m not the same girl you used to know, but it’s me.”
Dianne pulled her sister into her arms and cried. “This is too wonderful.” A million questions circled around her thoughts of praise. This was truly too much to have even hoped for. She recalled the days after Ardith had fallen into the flood-swollen Platte River and was swept downstream. They had searched and searched but never found any sign of the girl.
Ardith had been ten years old, and the loss to their family had been acute. Dianne pushed such thoughts aside as she continued to hug her sister. How could it be that she was here after all these years? How could she have survived?
It took some time to compose herself again, but when Dianne pulled away, she could see that Ardith had been crying as well.
“Come on. You must be exhausted. I’ll set you up in our spare guest room. We have another guest in the room next to yours, but we have plenty of space, so never you mind.” Dianne knew she was rambling, but the words just seemed to bubble out. “Koko, will you help me get some bath water ready for Ardith?” She turned and looked to her aunt. “This is our aunt, Koko Vandyke.”
Ardith looked that direction as well and recoiled. She backed up, terror in her eyes. Dianne didn’t immediately notice, but Koko did.
“I’m your Uncle Bram’s widow,” Koko offered. “Didn’t Zane tell you about me?”
Ardith looked to Zane. “You said she lived as white.”
Dianne realized that Ardith was upset by the Blackfoot dress and style their aunt had chosen. “Koko is half Blackfoot. Sometimes she wears this manner of dress,” Dianne offered. “Especially when we’re doing hard work.”
Ardith shook her head. “I hate the Indians. I hate them all. I don’t care if she did marry Uncle Bram. I want nothing to do with her! Nothing!” She turned and hid her face in Zane’s chest.
Dianne looked to her brother. “It’s a long story,” he said softly. “I found her as a hostage among the Sioux. She’s suffered a great deal.”
Just then Dianne spotted the infant in the cradleboard. She had shocks of black hair and her skin was ruddy. There was no doubting that the baby was Indian—probably Sioux. Dianne looked back to Koko, but found that the woman was gone.
“I’m so sorry, Ardith. I didn’t know. Come on. Let’s get you upstairs and let you rest. Can I help you with the baby? I have a little one myself. Did Zane tell you?”
Ardith lifted her head. “He said you had a boy.”
Dianne smiled. “That’s right. His name is Luke. What’s your baby’s name?”
“Winona. Her name means ‘giving.”’
“What an unusual and beautiful name,” Dianne said, looking over Ardith’s once again bowed head to meet her brother’s eyes. She saw a hint of understanding there. Ardith had come back to them, but she was very fragile and extremely wounded.
That night Dianne lovingly dressed her niece in a flannel gown—probably the first the child had ever worn. She then wrapped the baby snuggly in a warm blanket. Winona was very small but seemed healthy. Ardith had told them that she was born nearly a month early by her accounts.
“The constant travel and battle brought it on,” Ardith said, watching Dianne from the bed. “I’d already lost another baby that way.”
Dianne looked up, unable to hide her frown. “You had another child?”
“It wasn’t born alive,” she said, looking away. “It was sometime last year. I didn’t want it anyway.”
Dianne was shocked by her sister’s words. “What of Winona?”
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