To Dream Anew

by Tracie Peterson

  Dianne lowered her gaze to the shirt she’d been working on for Luke. Ardith had confided the news to her several days ago. The expected baby seemed to give Ardith a zest for life that even Levi and Winona had failed to bring.

  Charity was thrilled. “Oh, I had hoped for this. I didn’t want it to be too soon, but then for me, it couldn’t be soon enough. I feel like I’m going to be a grandma all over again.”

  “Yes, you will be grandmother to our baby. Levi and I have already determined that.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Ardith,” Faith said. “But you know what this means, ladies. We must put away our other sewing and make things for this baby.”

  “That’s right,” Koko agreed. “You’ll need lots of things.”

  “When is the baby going to come?” Charity asked.

  Ardith blushed. “As near as I can tell, August.”

  Charity clapped her hands together. “Good. A nice summer baby. Those are best around these parts. It’ll have a good chance to put on some fat before winter.”

  “You make the baby sound like one of the calves,” Dianne said, laughing.

  “Well, maybe so, but in these parts, it’s best to go into winter with a little extra weight, rather than too little.”

  “I agree with Faith,” Dianne said, tying off the seam she’d just sewn. “I think we need to make plans to get together at least once a month to make clothes for Ardith’s baby.”

  “And maybe some other ladies will eventually join us,” Charity added. “I know few want to travel out in this cold, but maybe come spring.”

  “Come spring we’ll be rounding up the herd and branding calves. You know how busy things get,” Dianne replied. “We’ll be lucky if we have time for a short spell of sitting, much less an afternoon of sewing.”

  “Maybe we should all plan to help with roundup,” Ardith suggested. “We could go out and cook and share company. The children would enjoy it too.”

  Dianne nodded, feeling a stir of excitement. “I haven’t been to a roundup in a long time. It might be just the thing. Cole already planned to take Luke, so maybe he won’t mind the entire family coming along.”

  “Malachi will be there. Cole already asked him to come and see to anything that was needed. I don’t think he’d mind if we joined him,” Faith said, grinning. “Not if he knows it’s for a good cause.”

  “I’ll talk to Ben, and if he agrees to the idea, I’ll get the word out at church and let the other ranchers’ wives know,” Charity declared. “That way, maybe we’ll get some of the other ladies to join us.”

  For Dianne the plan was a mixed blessing. She worried that Portia would show up with Lawrence’s daughters, even though Cole and Levi had pastured their cattle as far away from the Walking Horseshoe as possible.

  Still, I shouldn’t borrow trouble, she chided herself. Mama always said trouble would come looking for you all by itself—without invitation. Seems she was right. But she didn’t tell me trouble’s name was Portia Langford Lawrence .

  CHAPTER 21

  PORTIA’S LIFE AS CHESTER LAWRENCE’S WIFE WAS NOT AT all what she had anticipated. First there were the early morning risings that Chester insisted on. He wasn’t about to have his wife linger in bed when the day was underway. Portia argued that there was a housekeeper and a cook to see to the family’s needs and she needn’t lose sleep over such matters. But Chester would have no part of it.

  Added to this was trouble in the form of Chester’s two older boys, Jerrod and Roy. None of the Lawrence children liked her, but Jerrod and Roy were downright dangerous. It was nothing for them to pass Portia in the hall and shove her out of the way. One morning before she went for a ride, Portia even found her cinch strap cut just enough that if she’d gone into a gallop it would have torn completely in two. There was no way to prove that Jerrod and Roy had done it, but she was confident they were responsible.

  The third son, Joshua, was a little better. He was the only gentle spirit among the brothers. He had a poet’s heart, Portia thought. He read a great deal and loved to discuss intellectual matters. He was kind to Portia, but his demeanor was an irritation.

  Then there were Mara and Elsa. Neither girl wanted anything to do with Portia, and that was fine by her. Mara was at least civil, but Elsa was belligerent and hostile. Elsa constantly badgered Portia about stealing her father and being the death of her mother. Of course Portia knew the girl didn’t know the truth. No one did. Cynthia Lawrence’s death had been chalked off to intestinal troubles. The doctor even suspected a blocked bowel.

  The only truly nice thing was that the Walking Horseshoe was a lovely ranch. The house wasn’t nearly as grand as the Diamond V, but Portia could be patient knowing they’d soon take over the Selbys’ house and lands. The thought positively exhilarated her, and as she rode out across the valley on this pleasant April day and headed up into the hills, Portia felt confident that all of her plans were finally coming together.

  “There has to be a way to deal with his children,” she muttered.

  She’d suggested to Chester that the boys were all too old to be living at home—that they should perhaps file for land of their own and create an even bigger empire. But that was when Chester explained that they had done just that. The Lawrence sons had land that adjoined the Walking Horseshoe. They were even working to prove up the claim and meet the homesteading requirements.

  The very idea of those animals being around for much longer, however, kept Portia from truly enjoying her accomplishments. The girls she could get married off. There were enough cowboys and other eligible young men in the territory to marry them each several times over. Women were scarce in these parts. Portia had received at least a dozen proposals a month since coming back to Montana after Ned’s death.

  Ned.

  The very thought of him irritated her. She couldn’t help but stew over Trenton Chadwick and R. E. Langford’s plans to get her back to Maryland. The feeling of betrayal left her heart more firmly encased in ice than it had been before. How could a father make such plans against his own flesh and blood?

  Portia reined back the horse and paused as she spotted Jerrod and Roy approaching from the west. She contemplated making a dash back to the ranch, but then decided she wasn’t about to live her life in fear. There was no sense to that.

  She waited them out, not even bothering to ride down to meet them. Jerrod spit chaw and halted his sorrel stallion not but a foot away. Roy did likewise with his black. The gelding seemed unnerved by the sorrel, however, and kept dancing back and forth between Jerrod’s mount and Portia’s.

  “What do you want?” Portia asked, casually draping her gloved hands atop the horn.

  “What I want is you out of our lives,” Jerrod grumbled. “I’ve never had much use for you, and I have even less now.”

  “You may have blinded our father,” Roy declared, “but we see you for what you are.”

  Portia feigned indifference. “And what would that be?” she asked, as though bored with the conversation.

  “You’re after him for his money,” Roy replied, “but you’re too late. My father’s will leaves his property and money to his children. Not wives. Even our mother didn’t stand to inherit.”

  Portia tried not to appear surprised by the news. Instead she looked hard at Roy. “Do you think your father hasn’t discussed all of his financial arrangements with me? Do you suppose I’m stupid enough to marry any man without knowing the truth of his business? Do yourselves a favor. You’re both old enough to make a life for yourself elsewhere. Why don’t you each find a wife and make your own home. It’s hardly your father’s place to Take care of you and wipe your snotty noses for the rest of his life.”

  “You’re nothin’ but an uppity female with big notions,” Jerrod said, the anger in his tone clear. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “You’d better heed our warning, lady. We don’t want you here. We don’t want you stealin’ from us. Why not do yourself a favor and have this sham of a marriage annulled?�
�

  Portia arched a brow and smiled sardonically. “And what makes you believe, for even one moment, that my marriage is a sham? I’m making your father a very happy man, but I can make you two just as unhappy.”

  “You ain’t got the guts to make us anything. You watch yourself. One of these days you’ll ride out here and meet with an accident,” Roy said, turning his horse. “Come on, Jerrod. I’ve had about as much of her as I can stand.”

  Jerrod opened his mouth and then closed it again, as if he’d forgotten what he was about to say. Instead he pointed his gloved finger at her, then wheeled the stallion around and headed off down the hillside.

  “Abominable little monsters,” Portia spewed. She knew from past experience that matters like these had to be dealt with early on. Jerrod and Roy had been harassing her for months. Now was the time to teach them a lesson.

  “You watch yourself. One of these days you’ll ride out here and meet with an accident.” Roy’s words echoed in her mind.

  “Of course,” Portia murmured, smiling. “I just might.”

  She would have to stage things carefully. If she fell with too much force, she might really hurt herself. If she didn’t fall with enough momentum, she wouldn’t do the appropriate damage.

  Pressing her horse into a run, she skirted through pines and rocky outcroppings. She knew the perfect place to set her plan in motion. She’d nearly taken a tumble there two days earlier.

  Portia rounded several stubby cottonwoods and a tall pine. As she maneuvered around the last of the trees and headed up a small embankment, she yanked back hard on the reins, stunning the horse and causing him to rear. As he did, she slid off its back and tumbled end over end. She landed hard, much harder than she’d intended.

  Unable to slow her downward momentum, Portia smacked up against a boulder, hitting the side of her face and her right shoulder. For a moment, she saw stars and worried that she’d done more damage than she’d intended.

  The horse was well trained and stood fast not ten feet up the small hillside. Portia knew he’d stay there forever if she didn’t send him off. Getting to her feet and wincing at the pain of a bruised hip and skinned knees, Portia staggered up the hill to where the horse waited patiently, munching fresh grass.

  She took out one of her hat pins and mercilessly plunged it into the horse’s flank. The animal protested loudly before taking off as if the devil himself were giving chase. Portia smiled and replaced the pin before assessing her clothes.

  They were dirty from the fall, but with exception to a small tear, they were undamaged. Portia began to rip at her blouse, hoping to make matters look much worse than they were.

  “When the horse returns without me, someone will come to rescue me. And when they do, I’m sure they will be surprised to hear all about how Jerrod and Roy tried to beat me before stealing my horse and leaving me behind—injured.”

  She smiled at the simplicity of her plan and began walking back to the ranch. “I’ll teach those fools to make threats against me.”

  But after walking for nearly an hour, Portia felt like she was the fool. Her face and shoulder were throbbing and her body ached from the long and difficult walk. Not only that, but her pride was smarting from the fact that no one had even missed her.

  After another fifteen minutes had passed, Portia was beginning to get angry. It was then that she spotted a rider. She waved her hands feverishly. The rider apparently caught sight of her and headed his mount in her direction. By the time he’d come within a hundred yards, Portia could see it was Joshua Lawrence.

  He drew his mount up inches from Portia. “What happened?” he asked, concern in his voice.

  “I … I … oh, it was terrible,” she said, gasping for breath. She pressed her hand against the gelding as if to support herself.

  Joshua jumped down from the horse and caught her just as she pretended to faint dead away. She didn’t open her eyes again until they were entering the front door of the house.

  “What happened?” Chester growled as Joshua came through the foyer.

  “I don’t know. I found her walking across the pasture all torn up like this,” Joshua replied.

  Portia rallied enough to catch sight of her husband and his daughters. “Oh, I’m so glad it’s you. You won’t let them hurt me again, will you?” she whimpered.

  “Who did this?” Chester demanded, taking Portia from his son.

  “Jerrod … Roy.” She barely breathed the names. “They told me I wasn’t good enough for you. They beat me and stole my horse. They said …” She fell silent and pretended to succumb to her pain for a moment. “Oh … oh … I’m just so afraid.” She studied her husband’s stunned expression and knew he would need a moment to fully comprehend the situation.

  Reaching up, Portia grasped Chester’s shirt. “They said you didn’t care what happened to me. They said they were going to force me to leave.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Chester said, looking from Portia to Joshua. “Were you with them?”

  “No, Father. I was out checking that north pasture like you asked and found her wandering around.”

  “Did you see your brothers?”

  Joshua shook his head. Elsa chimed in, “They rode out early this morning. They couldn’t have hurt her.”

  Portia knew it would be difficult to convince Elsa, but she felt confident that Chester would be drawn in by his drive to control and protect what was his. “I only pray,” she whispered, “that they didn’t cause me to lose the baby.”

  “Baby?” the girls questioned in unison.

  Chester turned his gaze to her. “You’re going to have a baby?”

  Portia nodded and laid her head upon his shoulder. “At least I hope so. Jerrod was terribly hard on me, and Roy was no better. They both hit me several times in the stomach. They said it wouldn’t show as bad there as here.” She lifted her hand to her face.

  “I’ll kill ’em,” Chester said, turning to his daughters. “Go pull down the blankets on our bed so I can make her comfortable. Joshua, you ride for the doctor.”

  Portia let herself go limp in her husband’s arms. She smiled, knowing that no one could see her as she buried her face against Chester’s shirt.

  Let that be a lesson to you, boys . The idea to pretend she was pregnant had only come to her shortly before reaching the house. She knew her monthly time was due and if it came as usual, she’d tell everyone she had miscarried. And if it didn’t come, she’d praise God above that the baby had come through the attack unharmed. It was a perfect situation; there was no way to lose.

  As Chester placed her in bed, Portia moaned softly for effect. It was all too simple.

  “Mara, go get Mrs. Fisher. Have her come help you and Elsa get these dirty clothes off of Portia. Have her bring hot water and bandages.”

  “Yes, Father,” Mara said, not presenting the tiniest protest.

  Elsa, on the other hand, stared down in open hostility at Portia. “Why can’t we just wait and let the doctor do those things? She doesn’t look to be dying.”

  “Young lady, you heard me,” Chester replied in a stern manner. “I’m going to expect my commands to be heeded or there will be a reckoning. Do you understand me?” Elsa nodded solemnly. “It’s bad enough I have to deal with your brothers in this matter. I don’t want any sass from you girls.

  “Portia, I’ll take care of this situation—don’t you worry.” He stomped from the room like an angry, injured bear.

  “This is all your own fault,” Elsa muttered. “If you hadn’t come here, Jerrod and Roy wouldn’t have gotten mad.”

  Portia thought to threaten the girl, then decided a little drama would cause more reaction. She grabbed at her stomach and gasped for air. “Oh, the baby. I think I’m losing the baby.”

  Elsa paled and stepped away from the bed. “I don’t know what to do. You need a doctor.” She ran from the room calling for Mara.

  Portia nearly laughed out loud. Maybe this would be a good way to control El
sa as well. She could always threaten to tell the girl’s father that she hadn’t helped at all. Mara wouldn’t be a problem, but Elsa bore some consideration. Either way, Portia felt confident she’d just won this little game.

  Ardith strained against the pain that wracked her body. Heartbroken to be miscarrying Levi’s child, she fought the contractions and cried to God to make the nightmare end.

  Koko helped her raise her head and presented a cup of steaming tea. “Drink this; it will help with the pain.”

  “Why can’t you give me something to keep me from losing the baby?” Ardith cried, refusing the drink.

  Dianne reached over and took hold of her sister’s hand. “I’m so sorry this is happening, Ardith, but I’ll be here for you. I won’t let you bear this alone.”

  “Nor will I,” Koko added.

  Ardith shook her head from side to side. “I wanted this baby so much. How can I be losing him? Why would God do this to me?”

  “I don’t know why this is happening,” Dianne answered, “but I know God grieves for you. He loves you and He won’t leave you without comfort.”

  The words seemed hollow even in Dianne’s ears. Her sister’s grief was so raw and fresh. She’d seen this same kind of sorrow in Faith. All those years ago when Faith had first come to the Diamond V, she had been overwhelmed in her sadness. Faith would know how to reach Ardith.

  Dianne let go of Ardith’s hand. “I’ll be right back. Do what Koko says now and drink the tea. It will help.”

  She hurried from the room and found Levi pacing in the hall. “Is she … will she …” He didn’t seem capable of finishing the sentence.

  “She’s going to be fine, Levi. But of course it’s hard for her. She wanted this baby so much.”

  “She won’t die?” His dark brown eyes glinted with unshed tears.

  “No. At least I see no reason to believe she will.” She smiled and patted his shoulder. “Now I want to find someone to ride to Madison and bring back Faith. She’s gone through this before and I haven’t. She’ll be able to comfort Ardith in a way that no one else can. Can you get one of the boys to go?”