The grizzled cowboy took off his hat and knelt down by the river’s edge. He splashed water all over his face and head, then plopped his hat back on his head, letting the water rivulets snake down his neck and into his shirt.
“So did you manage to get things straightened out with those cowboys from the Bar S?” Cole asked. There had been some trouble at the branding and a declaration from the smaller outfit that the Diamond V was stealing their cattle.
“I explained the situation and showed them the brands. They’re still convinced several calves were motherin’ up to our mama cows because their own mamas had been killed. I assured them it weren’t the case. Sometimes it’s hard to just take bad news like a man and leave well enough alone.”
“We could go have a talk with the owner of the outfit. I don’t know the fellow, but I’m willing to try and smooth ruffled feathers.”
“It’ll pass. Leave well enough alone,” Gus suggested. “Once they get back to their outfit, it’ll come clear to them.”
“I hope so. We have enough trouble around here from the Indians. Don’t need to be starting up bad relations with the neighbors.”
“There’s bound to be more trouble as time goes on. They fight over cows in Texas like drunks on a Saturday night. Down that way you have to worry about the Mexicans comin’ in to steal cattle and taking them back over the border. You think you got it bad here with folks tryin’ to change brands and make them over for their own—down south they get downright loco. They’ll add a bar or swirl, tack on a circle or horseshoe, all to change the brand. I pity the cow that has to wear a Mexican brand.”
Cole shook his head and wondered if they’d really have to start looking out for such things. The country had been so free of that kind of worry. Oh, the occasional head or two were taken, usually by Indians, but to imagine people going out of their way to steal heads of cattle for their own stock . . . well, it just wasn’t something Cole wanted to deal with at this point.
“There’s other problems too. I heard tell a big sheep outfit is moving in just south of us. Sheep are bad news. They’ll eat the grass out at the root. Leave us with nothing for range feed.” Gus shook his head. “I see the day comin’ when we’ll be fencing everything in as far as the eye can see.”
Cole couldn’t help but laugh at that thought. “It’ll take a whole heap of rail to fence in Montana.”
Gus wiped his wet face with the back of his shirt sleeve. “Yup, but some folks won’t have it any other way. Mark my words, the times are changin’. Sheep and fences, farmers and rustlers. It’s all come a-courtin’.”
CHAPTER 32
COLE HAD STILL NOT RETURNED BY THE TWENTY-SIXTH, and Zane felt it imperative he get back to the fort.
“Look,” he told Dianne as he mounted his horse, “stay close to the house. Don’t go off for long rides. Keep plenty of water and food close at hand and use a bell or something else you can clang to get everyone’s attention in case you need to bring everyone up to the main house. It couldn’t even hurt to have an outrider or two keeping watch. Someone on a fast horse with a keen eye for movement, in case the Indians decide to attack.”
“I’ll do my best,” she told Zane. She glanced over her shoulder to see Koko wipe away a tear. The tension of the Indian conflicts was causing her a great deal of concern about her brother.
“You may run into Cole,” Dianne said, meeting her brother’s serious expression. “If you do, share this information again—just in case I somehow forget.”
Zane nodded. “I’ll be in touch. Try not to worry.”
He pulled the reins hard to the right and kicked into the horse’s sides. “Haw!” he called, pushing the horse into an immediate gallop down the muddy drive.
It had rained off and on all night—much needed moisture, but not at the best of times. Rain would make it harder to move the cattle. Rain would delay Cole further.
The day after Zane had gone, Dianne felt a restlessness that she couldn’t explain. She thought about all the instructions Zane had left and considered what they might do to make themselves safe from attack. She had it in mind to call a meeting that night and have all of the remaining ranch hands and other residents join together for supper. She reasoned it would be easier to discuss the matter in full with everyone around the same table.
If only Cole were here to lead it. I’d much rather this be his decision, she thought. But there simply wasn’t time to wait. Zane implied that the need was immediate—that danger could be just over the next ridge.
Thoughts like that caused Dianne to worry that perhaps Cole and the others had met with harm. After all, they would be out there all alone, well away from help or other people. Only those folks who shared in roundup would be present, and if a band of Indians could take on and destroy a wagon train with a few hundred people, they’d have no trouble with twenty or thirty cowhands.
Leaving Koko to watch over Lucas, Dianne decided to take a short walk around the immediate area and assess what needed to be done. She would heed Zane’s warning not to go far, but she felt the desperate need to do something other than merely wait for trouble to come to her. Taking up a rifle, Dianne walked out onto the front porch and gazed down the long lane toward her beloved hilltop perch. There was no one there to indicate any problem or the return of her men. She sighed and stepped from the porch, heading toward the first barn.
In the corral outside, there were two wild horses. One of the men had been working with them throughout the winter. They would soon be tame enough to begin breaking in earnest. They were good, strong ponies, and Dianne looked forward to seeing how they reacted to training. She felt confident they would make good cow horses.
In the distance beyond Faith and Malachi’s cabin, Dianne’s eye caught sight of movement. She froze in place, doing her best to listen first before she reacted. It might only be an animal—a deer or elk—even a grizzly. She put her hand to her forehead, hoping to shield the sun and give herself a better view.
The image of a man crouching in the brush startled her. She knew if she could see him, he could probably see her as well. Dianne pulled the rifle in front of her and wondered what she should do. She didn’t want to alarm the others, but neither did she want to leave them without warning. Just as she moved toward the house, however, the man got up and darted back into the trees.
“Indians,” she murmured. She began to tremble and her breathing quickened. Had the Sioux come to attack? The man was clearly an Indian, but she hadn’t gotten a good enough look to tell if he were Sioux or some other tribe.
She moved slowly backward, hoping she might get another glimpse of the man. By the time she made it to the porch, however, she’d seen nothing. Leaning against the post, her rifle still ready, Dianne pondered the situation. She couldn’t very well go out there to investigate, and if the woods were full of Sioux warriors, there was no time to warn anyone and get them into the house.
Then movement once again caught her eye. The wind picked up ever so slightly, rustling the trees and brush in the direction she’d seen the Indian. She held her breath and leaned forward. Much to her relief a somewhat familiar sight came to her eyes.
“Takes Many Horses,” she breathed and immediately relaxed her hold on the rifle. He waved from across the field. Dianne waved in return and watched as he turned to motion to someone.
From their hiding place, three other Blackfoot warriors emerged—one of them the man she’d seen just moments earlier. As they drew near, Dianne could see that they were all very dirty and they looked very tired. Takes Many Horses approached her first, smiling in his lazy manner as if they’d parted company only the day before.
He stopped about eight feet away. “Stands Tall Woman, your ears and eyes do you proud.”
“We’ve been very worried about you,” Dianne said in greeting. “You’re welcome here—you and your friends. Come around back where you can wash up, then I’ll feed you all.”
He watched her for a moment. “Where is your man?”
> “Roundup. I figured you already knew that. You surely have watched the ranch and seen that most of the men are gone.”
“Yes. We saw, too, that the white soldier was here.”
“My brother Zane.”
Takes Many Horses nodded. “Is he looking for us?”
Dianne shook her head. “Not at all. He’s headed off to pursue the Sioux and Cheyenne and return them to their reservations.” She paused and bit her lip. There were a hundred questions she longed to ask him.
“We are renegades,” Takes Many Horses said matter-of-factly.
“The soldiers are after us—at least they were.”
“So you have left the reservation? Will you return?”
He shook his head and gave a pretense of dusting off his flannel shirt. “No. I will not live as a caged animal. I will die a free man.”
“George!” Koko declared as she came out the door, Lucas in her arms. She handed the fussy baby to Dianne and rushed to embrace her brother. “I’ve been so worried. Where have you been? Why haven’t you written me or come to see us?”
He held his sister for a moment, but his gaze was ever fixed on Dianne. “I’m sorry to have worried you, but there was much trouble.”
Koko pulled away and noted his friends. “You’re very warm and you look tired. All of you look tired.” She felt her brother’s face and grimaced. “Are you ill?”
“We’ve been traveling without much rest. We tried to hunt, but the game is far to the south. Now we’re heading back north. Canada.”
“So you won’t go to the reservation?”
The man met his sister’s gaze. Dianne saw the defiance in his expression but also noted the pain in his eyes. “No.”
“Well, come inside. We can discuss this later.”
“Stands Tall Woman says we must wash up first,” Takes Many Horses said in a teasing manner.
Koko nodded. “It would be best. You smell as bad as . . .” She grinned. “Well, you smell bad. Come. I’ll get you soap and towels.” Koko turned to her brother’s companions and spoke in Pikuni. Dianne easily translated the words in her mind and waited as the trio moved off with Koko.
George started to follow, then stopped. Looking up to where Dianne stood on the porch, he asked, “Is this your child?”
Dianne held her son up for the warrior to better view. “Yes. This is Lucas—Luke. He was born just before Christmas.”
“You should put him in a cradleboard. It would be much easier to get work done with him on your back or propped up beside you.”
She smiled. “I enjoy the feel of him in my arms. I couldn’t stand to lose that.” She nuzzled the baby and kissed his neck.
“You are a good mother—I can tell by the way he is calmed by your touch.”
“Mostly he’s hungry,” Dianne said, “as you no doubt are. Go wash up. We can talk about him later.”
Takes Many Horses stood fixed for several moments, his gaze fixed on her, before he finally nodded and followed after the others. Dianne felt troubled by his scrutiny. Cole knew of the Indian’s love for her, but he also had told Dianne that the man’s honor was stronger still. She felt safe enough with Koko’s brother, but there was something of his pain—something of the longing that he hid away just below the surface of his conscious thought—that gave Dianne a feeling of discomfort. It was rather like watching her uncle suffer after the bear attack. There was nothing she could do to ease his suffering. Nothing.
At noon they sat down to an abundant table of food, but the Indians seemed to have little appetite. Dianne tried not to worry or fuss over them; in fact, she kept her place near the opposite end of the table while Koko plied her brother with questions. Dianne tried not to seem too eager for their comments or answers. She tried too not to worry that they looked flushed, even feverish.
Excusing herself, Dianne went upstairs to nurse Luke and put him to bed for a nap. She cherished this quiet time alone with her baby. It seemed to her to be the very best time of the day, next to her evenings with Cole.
Lucas nursed greedily, making smacking, gurgling sounds as he ate. He watched his mother with dark blue eyes that seemed wise and intelligent. Dianne thought he looked as though he had many things to speak on, but then his lids grew heavy and he settled into a deep sleep. Apparently his declarations could wait for another day.
Dianne smoothed back his soft brown hair. Luke made her feel so very different. She thought of the times when she’d been a girl playing dolls. Though she had known the first stirrings of love for her doll babies, her feelings for Luke were something so fierce they were almost frightening.
Dianne got up and put the baby in his cradle. She stood watching her son for several minutes, not at all eager to leave him. He was so vulnerable—so helpless. Baby animals were able to do much for themselves when they were born, but not so baby humans.
“We’re all vulnerable,” she whispered, thinking of the troubled times about her.
Dianne crossed to the window and looked out across the valley. Thick, dark clouds were moving in from the south. No doubt it would rain again. She could only pray that Cole would hasten the drive and make his way back to her soon.
“Some days are just so hard,” she said aloud. “I look at the work ahead and know I can never rise to the responsibility. Other times, I feel completely confused by what’s expected of me.” She looked heavenward. “Lord, what is expected of me?”
She was thankful Cole assumed the responsibilities of heading up the family, but some of the ranch hands still looked to her for approval and direction. Gus listened to Cole and respected him greatly, but Gus still honored her with discussions and asked for her opinion. Maybe he was just being nice, but Dianne felt he truly wanted to know what she thought.
Cole said it was because she was a natural at ranching. Dianne didn’t know how natural it was. She felt there were certainly enough times when common sense eluded her and she failed at her tasks. She’d been thrown from many a horse and had gotten herself into more than one bad situation with equipment and gear.
“But you have a heart for this business,” Cole had told her in his most serious tone. “Ranching is in your blood. Your uncle picked wisely when he set you up to help run this place.”
Dianne rubbed the back of her neck and yawned. A nap sounded like a wonderful idea right now. There was really nothing pressing, and if she remained up here, Koko would have time alone with her brother.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Dianne slipped off her shoes and stretched atop the covers. Closing her eyes, she whispered yet another prayer for her husband’s safety, but this time she added a prayer for Takes Many Horses and his friends.
“I will not live as a caged animal. I will die a free man.” The words resounded in her head. She’d always known it would be that way—so had Koko.
“Oh, God, you alone know tomorrow. Please, Father, please direct our steps. The path is rocky and strewn with obstacles. I know we’ll not be able to survive save by your mercy.”
“Dianne! Wake up!” Charity stood over Dianne and shook her gently but with a firm determination that suggested something was wrong.
“What is it?” Dianne struggled to sit. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced at the cradle. Luke was still asleep. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes. Oh, it’s terrible,” Charity said. Dianne could see the fear in her eyes.
“What is it?”
“Smallpox.”
That single word had been known to strike terror in the hearts of entire communities. Dianne scooted to the edge of the bed. “Smallpox? Where?” “Here. The Indians. Takes Many Horses and his friends. Koko just figured it out. Two of the Indians are already showing signs of the pox. The other two have the fever. In fact, they’ve had it for days. The pox will soon be marking them as well.”
Dianne was sickened by the news. She buried her face in her hands. How can this be, Lord? Why would you allow this pestilence to come our way?
“We’ll have to be caut
ious,” Dianne said, finally looking up at her friend. “What’s to be done?”
“Quarantine,” Charity said. “At least I’m certain that’s required to keep others from getting sick. We need a doctor to be certain about the pox.”
Dianne nodded. “You’ve not been around the Indians much, have you?”
Charity shook her head. “No, I just found out about this when Koko sent me to tell you. I was helping Ben with some notes for his Sunday service.”
“Good.” Dianne struggled to think clearly. “We need to get word to the others—to Faith and Malachi. They need to stay away from the house. Everyone needs to stay away. Koko and her children have been very close to Takes Many Horses and his friends. Jamie sat beside his uncle at lunch, and Susannah was on and off his lap. They’ve no doubt had a good exposure to the sickness.”
“What about you?”
Dianne shook her head. “We’ve maintained a good distance. I sat at the opposite end of the table, then came up here with Luke. I don’t know how bad this might get,” she said, looking to her friend, “but I know the time to act is now.”
“I’ll go tell Faith and Malachi the situation. I’ll tell them from a distance, just in case,” Charity declared.
“Good, then come back here if you would, and watch Luke. I’ll ride for Dr. Bufford and see if he can help us.”
“You’re going to leave?”
Dianne jumped up, unfastening her skirt as she did. “I’ll be back as quick as I can. I’ll take Pepper. He can manage the distance in a short time.” She took up an altered pair of Cole’s trousers and pulled them on. She started to take hold of a wide full skirt she often threw over the top of these, then stopped. “I’ll just go like this.” She took up a long jacket and slipped into the sleeves.
“Get the word out,” she told Charity as she hurried to pull on her boots. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”
Dianne was uncertain whether Hezekiah Bufford would be any help to them or not. After all, the only ones who were sick at this point were Indians. Still, she couldn’t sit by and do nothing. If anyone would help them, it would be him.
The Coming Storm Page 32