To Dream Anew
Page 7
She attacked the dress, pulling it over her head as though it were a noose. “How dare you leave me like this! Destitute—facing financial ruin.”
She hated R. E. Langford. Hated him almost as much as she’d hated his sniveling coward of a son.
They moved toward winter with Portia doing as little as she could get away with as far as helping around the house. The ranch hands finished the fall roundup, and before the first snows fell in the valley, they moved out with the herd.
Dianne always dreaded the time when the men moved the cattle to winter pasture. The ranch took on such an abandoned feel. The rumors of Indian attack had calmed somewhat, but there was always concern.
Cole went with the men to see the herd secured, then returned two days before a heavy snow buried the roads and made passage impossible. Dianne was glad for his safety and the fact that he would be with her through the winter instead of out on the range guarding the cattle.
December brought more snow and a feeling of isolation that weighed heavy on Dianne’s heart. She worried about her sister and whether Ardith would adjust to her new life. Portia often made snide comments for which Dianne had to take her to task. It seemed the widow felt Ardith would have been better off dead. No doubt many felt that way, but not Dianne.
The New Year was celebrated in a somber manner. Luke had taken sick with a cough and runny nose. He seemed constantly to pull at his right ear, and Koko had declared him to have an infection. She treated him with herbs and warm smoke, and before long the baby, who’d turned a year old two days before Christmas, was up and taking full run of the house.
On cold January nights, the family was sometimes rewarded with a spectacular show of northern lights. Koko had shared that her ancestors believed the lights held mystical powers. Some even thought conception would be easier during the light show—as if The lights could somehow create life.
Dianne stood at her window watching the night skies blaze red, then fade to green and white. She never tired of the show, but tonight it made her especially joyful. She’d just come to realize she was expecting another baby, even without the help of the lights.
Cole yawned as he entered their bedroom. “It’s cold out there,” he said as he closed the door. He went immediately to their fireplace and began putting on enough logs for the night.
Dianne turned from the window. She pulled her wool shawl close and smiled as she watched Cole work.
“Despite the snow, I don’t really think we’re in for a bad winter.” He straightened and noted her face. “What are you grinning about?”
“I have some news,” she said, coming to him. “Very good news. Do you want to guess?”
He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. “They’ve captured Sitting Bull and his men?” he teased.
“No, silly.”
“Portia has decided to leave?”
“I wish that were true,” she said, relishing the feel of Cole’s embrace.
“Hmm,” he murmured as his lips touched against her neck. “I’ve run out of guesses.”
Dianne giggled. “We’re going to have another baby.”
Cole straightened. “Truly?” His expression was filled with wonder. “Another baby?”
She nodded. “Come late spring or early summer.”
He hugged her tightly, then released her. “That’s the best news ever. Luke turned out so good, we must be doing something right.”
“Children are a gift from the Lord,” she said. “I think we should give credit where it’s due.”
“To be sure,” Cole replied, then surprised Dianne by sweeping her off her feet and into his arms. “To be sure.”
CHAPTER 7
July 1877
“HE’S NOTHING LIKE LUKE,” DIANNE SAID AS SHE CUDDLED her newest baby. Micah, now nearly two months old, was a fussy, needy child.
“Every child is different,” Koko told her niece. “I think I can mix a few things together to ease his upset stomach.”
“Babies are more trouble than their worth, if you ask me,” Portia said absentmindedly. She looked up quickly, as if suddenly realizing she’d spoken the words aloud. “It’s just that out here,” she hurried to explain, “babies are so easily lost to sickness and the isolation.”
“It’s true that raising children in the wilderness is more difficult,” Koko agreed, “but they are certainly worth the effort. Especially when a woman is in our situation—being a widow.”
Portia frowned. “I suppose it might have been nice to have Ned’s child, but the thought of raising a child without a father would be terrifying.”
Koko nodded. “It is hard. I would trade most anything to have Bram back with us. The children miss him horribly. There isn’t a day that goes by that one or the other doesn’t encounter some Papa-sized hole that Bram would have perfectly filled.”
Dianne saw tears form in her aunt’s eyes, but Portia turned away and walked to the front widow to gaze outside for the tenth or eleventh time. “I don’t understand why we can’t have word from the army. My father should at least have time to write.”
Dianne put Micah to her shoulder and began patting his back. No one wanted Portia gone from the Diamond V more than she did. The woman, although she lended a hand at times, was still a constant bother. She would often feign confusion on how to do some task or work some piece of equipment, all the while knowing that it would be easier for someone else to step in and handle the situation rather than take time to teach Portia all over again. “Sometimes those things don’t work out—especially given all the conflicts.”
“Well, with the governor calling for volunteers to help capture the Indians, you’d think they could at least give some of the army men a short time away with their families.”
Dianne shook her head at the thought. “Those men enlist with the knowledge that they must see their duties through to completion.”
Portia turned, her expression icy cold. “Don’t lecture me about the responsibilities or duties of soldiers. I’ve lived with this nonsense all of my life.”
Dianne could feel her resentment. The look on the widow’s face made her feel uneasy. “I wasn’t trying to lecture. My own brother is out there risking his life for our safety. He knows the price that has to be paid—your father knows it as well. They’ve both chosen to pay that price.”
“Well, they should have asked their family if they were willing to pay it as well.”
Dianne knew there would be no reasoning with the woman. While Portia would lovingly talk about her mother and of her desire to make things right with her father in one breath, she would verbally condemn her parents in the next. There was a dangerous and mean-spirited underlying current that was the very essence of Portia Langford. Trenton knew it to be true as well. He’d warned Dianne many times that the woman was not to be trusted.
Micah began to cry more earnestly. He kept drawing his legs up to his stomach, and Dianne knew his discomfort was acute.
“Let me take him,” Koko said softly. “I miss taking care of babies. I’ll see if I can rock him to sleep.”
“Thank you,” Dianne said. Her own exhaustion after being up with the baby through the night was wearing her nerves thin.
“Susannah can play with Luke. Why don’t you go and take a little nap? I’ll see to everything here.”
Dianne couldn’t quite stifle her yawn. “I think that sounds wise. Especially if Master Micah is planning another difficult night for me.”
“I’m going for a ride,” Portia said, obviously bored with both women and their talk of children.
“Stay close,” Dianne warned. “No one knows where the Sioux and Cheyenne are hiding these days. Rumors are running wild that there are Indians as close as Ennis. We need to be wise.”
“I can take care of myself,” Portia declared, stomping from the room as though Dianne had insulted her.
“For someone who can take care of herself,” Koko commented, “she certainly relies on the help of others often enough.”
“I think she’s playing a role—nothing more,” Koko said, shaking her head. “I think she’s memorized her lines and has come to believe them as truth, rather than the script she’s made for herself.”
“I think you’re probably right,” Dianne said, yawning once again.
“Go,” Koko urged. “I will care for the boys. You go rest.”
Settled comfortably in her bed, Dianne tried to heed her aunt’s suggestion, but her mind wouldn’t put aside her continued concerns about what was happening in the valleys beyond her home. Dianne worried about Zane, and she prayed continually that God would protect him from harm. But she also worried about her family and the ranch. They were isolated—completely removed from neighbors and help. If hostile Indians did attack, there would be very little they could do.
“Are you sleeping?” Ardith whispered as she opened the door a crack.
Dianne rolled over and sat up. “No. I wish I were, but my heart is troubled.”
“May I sit with you for a little while?”
Dianne smiled. Her sister rarely sought out anyone’s company, and Dianne didn’t want to do anything to discourage this approach. “You know that I love your company. Of course you may join me.”
“You may not feel that way after we talk.”
“Is something wrong?” Dianne asked, scooting up to rest against her headboard while Ardith took a seat in the rocking chair.
“I suppose I’m worried about the rumors of attack. One of the ranch hands mentioned there’s a possibility of attack from the west.”
Dianne shrugged. “Someone is always reporting something. I never know what to believe.”
Ardith looked to the floor. “I can’t go back into that life.”
“No one would let that happen.”
“You don’t know how they can be. Walks in the Dark would force me back into the tribe simply to spite me. He’d know death would be too pleasing an option—just as it would have been when we were together.”
Dianne tried not to react to her sister’s words, but it was hard. She felt Ardith was trying to tell her something—something Dianne didn’t want to hear.
“If they come—if there is no hope of winning the fight …” Ardith’s words trailed off.
“It won’t be that way. You’ll see,” Dianne moved to her sister’s side and knelt on the floor.
Ardith looked into Dianne’s face, her expression pained, terrified. In that moment Dianne was taken back in time to those first few days after Ardith had come to live with them.
“I won’t go back. Do you understand?”
Dianne understood only too well, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak of it. “Ardith, you have a good life here. You’re safe. Nothing is going to happen to you or Winona. You’ll see.”
“I don’t feel safe. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe again. I try to put the past behind me … but … well, it’s hard.”
“I can’t begin to know what you have endured, but I do know that I will fight to the death to protect you and Winona. I know Cole feels the same way. And, if I can be so bold, I believe Levi would beat us all to the task. He cares about you.”
“He shouldn’t. I can’t care about him.”
“Why not?” Dianne asked, getting to her feet. “He’s a good man.”
“Yes, much too good for the likes of me. After what’s happened to me, no man of worth would ever want me for more Than … well … it wouldn’t be for any decent reason.”
“That’s not true, Ardith. Things are different out here. Montana Territory is still untamed. People do have their prejudices and fears, but they also know better than to let those things push aside their chance at happiness.”
“I doubt anyone could ever find happiness with me. I can’t find it within myself—how could I possibly benefit anyone else?”
Dianne gently touched her sister’s cheek. “Ardith, God will heal your wounds. But it will come about in His way and His time. You mustn’t give up hope, nor give up on life. There’s still a chance for you to be truly happy. I think Levi would go a long way to help you find that joy.”
Ardith got to her feet. “I can’t think like that. Right now, I just want to know that if the Sioux attack and try to take me from here that you’ll keep it from happening.”
“I won’t let them take you,” Dianne said, feeling the need to assure her sister.
Ardith fixed her dark-eyed gaze on Dianne. “Even if you have to kill me to keep it from happening?”
Dianne gasped, drawing her hand to her mouth. She couldn’t believe what Ardith had asked.
“You must promise me, Dianne. If they come and take me—take Winona—you’ll put a bullet in us before letting them drag us off. I don’t want to live like that—I won’t live like that again.”
“Ardith, I could never—”
“Then give me a gun. A revolver. I’ll keep it with me and do the deed myself if the time comes and requires it of me. I won’t let the Sioux take us. You’d do well to make provisions for yourself and your own children. They won’t be kind—they won’t be civil. If you think you’ve suffered in the past, forget it. I’ve made my bed in hell, as David spoke of in the psalms.” She turned to go, then stopped and looked back at Dianne. “The only thing is, God didn’t find me there as David suggested. Even God couldn’t look upon that heinous affair.”
“Where’s Cole?” Gus asked as he came storming through the kitchen.
“I figured he was out there working with some of the colts,” Dianne replied as she put the second apple pie onto the sill to cool. “Why, is something wrong?”
“There’s news out of Virginia City. I think we need to hold a ranch meeting.”
Dianne felt a chill go up her spine. “Is it the Indians?”
Gus nodded stoically. “It don’t sound good.”
Twenty minutes later the entire family and most of the ranch hands had crammed into the formal dining room. Gus and Cole stood at the head of the table, while Trenton lingered near the door.
“Quiet down. We need to talk this out,” Cole announced to the men.
Dianne looked around at the serious expressions—the worried looks. She dreaded hearing what Gus and Cole might have to share.
As the room went silent, Cole began. “Gus just got back from Virginia City. Apparently there’ve been some new problems to the west. The Nez Perce are on the warpath. They’ve left their reservation and are headed this direction.”
“Where did this information come from?” Dianne asked.
“The sheriff. He had a wire,” Gus explained. “Apparently the Indians have been tracked headin’ this way. The army hopes to intercept them, but—”
“But we all know better than to place our hopes in the army,” Portia said snidely. “I can’t believe this nonsense. Did no one learn anything after the battle at Little Big Horn?”
“Portia, you must remain calm,” Dianne said, catching a glance at Ardith’s terrified expression. “Let’s hear the men out and learn what is happening.”
“Like that will keep us from being killed in our sleep.”
“Portia!” Dianne snapped, her anger evident. “Be quiet.”
Portia glared at Dianne, looking for all the world as though she might make this a matter of physical violence. Instead, she drew a deep breath and said nothing more.
Dianne looked to her husband and Gus. She longed to know the details, the truth of what they knew, but wondered if they would simplify this for fear of worrying the women.
“Apparently there’s still plenty of time and distance between us and them,” Gus said, picking up the conversation. “They believe the hostiles will make their way
across the Lolo Pass and head into Montana. The army plans to intercept them.”
“It’s a good distance from here,” Cole threw in. He met Dianne’s gaze and she could almost read his thoughts. He was worried—he was afraid. She’d not seen him like this before.
“However,” Gus continued, “the army is worried that this may be a sign to other tribes. If word gets around to other hostiles and they know the army’ll be engaged over on the Lolo Trail, other Indians may take this as an opportunity to attack in areas not protected. Plus, there’s still Sioux and Cheyenne out there who ain’t been caught.”
Dianne avoided looking at Ardith. Her sister’s words still haunted her, and Dianne had no doubt the young woman would do exactly as she’d threatened if they were under attack.
“What do we need to do?” Dianne asked softly.
“We’re going to meet with some of the other area ranchers,” Cole announced. “We’ll form a plan of protection putting outriders on the perimeters of our properties—determining a series of places where we can meet on the trail and let each other know that things are all right.”
“What else is to be done?” Levi asked.
“Every man will have a revolver on him at all times. Extra ammunition as well. Each man also needs to have a rifle.”
“What about the women?” Portia asked indignantly. “I can shoot as well as any man here.”
“We’ll place loaded rifles and shotguns around the house,” Cole answered, “ammunition too. I don’t like doing this, but it seems necessary.”
Dianne felt a sinking desperation fall over her. It seemed she was caught up in quicksand and couldn’t fight her way to the top for air. The constriction was almost too much to bear. How could she just sit by? How could she watch and wait to see if hostile Indians would descend upon her family?
“Isn’t there something else we can do?” Dianne asked.