Ardith shook her head almost violently. “God doesn’t figure into this … not now … not ever. He left me to fend for myself so many times. I kept crawling back to Him, thinking I was the one who was wrong, but now I know that it’s just not true. I did nothing to merit losing Levi. I did nothing to deserve losing our baby.”
Faith got up and went to where Ardith paced. Reaching out, she stilled the younger woman by taking hold of her arms. “Ardith, I believe you, and God knows the truth of it. Those things just happened as a part of life. We can’t stop bad things from coming our way. It doesn’t mean that we’ve necessarily done anything wrong when trials come. Jesus said there would be trials, but He also said we could take heart because He’s overcome the world.”
“He’s God; of course He’s overcome the world,” Ardith said sarcastically. “But I’m just a woman, and I don’t seem to be much capable of overcoming anything.”
“But—”
“No, Faith. I don’t want to hear anything more on the matter. I know what I have to do. I just need to find a way to accomplish it.”
Mara could take no more of the painful conflict. “I have to tell you both something.” She smiled. “I know it might sound silly … but I’m in love.”
Ardith’s eyes widened and Faith’s mouth actually dropped open to form an O. Mara could see she’d captured their attention and hurried on to explain.
“Ardith, I’m in love with your brother Zane. I know he’s twice my age, but I don’t see why that should matter. He’s a good man with a loving heart, and I can’t help myself.”
Both women stared at her. They were speechless, and the looks on their faces made Mara want to laugh out loud. Instead she got up and went to pick up the cake. Taking it to Ardith, she pushed the plate into her hands. “Why don’t we talk about this some more … over cake?”
Faith chuckled, finally gaining her voice. “I see nothing wrong with a man being twice your age, if you love him.”
Ardith seemed to get her wind. She put the cake down, shaking her head and muttering. “You’ve heard nothing I’ve said. Love is pain…. I can’t in good conscience encourage you to pursue my brother or any other man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a horrible headache and need to lie down before Winona comes home.”
Ardith hurried off without another word, leaving Mara feeling guilty. “I hope I didn’t hurt her feelings. I didn’t mean to.” She looked to Faith. “I only wanted to change the subject and quell her anger.”
“Child, she must find her way through this sorrow. She needs to give it all over to God, but she’s convinced He doesn’t care.”
“How can we help her?” Mara said, feeling close to tears. Ardith’s sadness was almost contagious.
“We can pray for her. We can pray and trust that God will do the rest.”
Mara thought about Faith’s words long after the supper dishes had been washed and put away. Joshua had gone off to visit with Ben Hammond. He wanted very much to get a community revival planned, and Ben was the one man who could help him accomplish his goal.
Ardith and Winona had disappeared upstairs shortly after supper, leaving Mara alone with her thoughts and feelings. Her parents had lived such a loveless marriage, passing that lack of emotion on to their parenting. Mara had never once felt truly loved and cared for, except by Joshua. Even then, it wasn’t the kind of love she needed or desired. Then Dianne Selby had told her about God’s love. It seemed too impossible to be true. How could God love a silly little girl … the daughter of a ruthless man?
But He does love me. He loves me and He has taken me out of that desperation and given me hope. A hope within … a hope that never failed her. So it seemed perfectly acceptable that in faith she could seek God out and ask for love … and He would give it to her.
And He had, at least as far as Mara was concerned. Zane Chadwick might not yet understand how it worked, but Mara knew she could bring him around in time.
Checking to see that the kitchen was in order, Mara made her way through the house and stepped out onto the front porch. There was a definite chill in the evening air. No doubt the snows of winter would soon come.
“I know you have it all planned out … you know my future,” she whispered in prayer. “I just need to trust you and be patient. But I’m not good at either thing … at least not as good as I wish I were.”
She leaned on the porch rail and sighed. Closing her eyes, she continued to pray. I feel so sad, Lord. Sad for Ardith and Winona. Please help them. Please let Ardith find contentment again. Let her know peace and happiness. Let her find joy in her child. And help Joshua to know where you’re leading him. Give him clear direction and let him bring many people to the truth.
And, Lord, there’s Elsa. She’s so trapped right now. Our father is being very underhanded about her, and we don’t know why. Lord, you know Josh has been out there so many times trying to convince Father to let her go. Still he refuses, and Elsa’s afraid. Help her, God. Help her before something bad happens.
Mara prayed for the people around her, for the Selbys and for those at the ranch. It seemed there was a never-ending list of folks to pray for, but Charity always said that when your own problems seemed to overwhelm you, you’d find the burden lifted as you bore other folks and their problems to the Lord in prayer. It’s true, Mara thought. Already I feel better.
But after exhausting her list of people and their needs, Mara found herself right back at her own longing. She couldn’t help but let the image of Zane come to mind. She could almost reach out and trace the edges of his face. She could even imagine herself telling him how much she loved him.
“You look like a woman with a lot on her mind.”
Mara opened her eyes, surprised to find Zane standing on the bottom porch step. “I am.”
“I don’t suppose it would be safe for me to ask what you’re thinking about.”
She grinned. “There’s no reason to ask. You already know good and well what I’m thinking about.”
“That’s what I figured,” Zane said with a look that seemed to register somewhere between relief and resignation. “Not safe at all.”
Word came from Charity and Ben that Gus Yegen, the Diamond V’s first foreman, had passed away. Dianne cried quietly in the confines of her room, unable to put to words the grief she was feeling. Gus represented the last of the old life she had known. Gus had been her uncle’s friend and right-hand man, and after Uncle Bram had been killed by a grizzly bear, Gus had become her trusted friend and valued employee.
Gus had taught Dianne so much about horses and cattle. He had been a gentle and informative teacher … always patient, never cross or belittling. And now he was gone.
Dianne knew she would have to share the news with Cole, but right now she didn’t want to. It was her own private news, her own sorrow. And as strange as it sounded, she was determined that no one take it from her.
“Everything has changed,” she whispered. “Nothing is as it was. I thought my life was well planned out for me. I thought I would live and die on the Diamond V.” Gus probably thought so too. Charity said he’d died in Bozeman. Gus must surely have hated that. It had always been his desire to live out his days on the Diamond V and be buried there.
“Well, at least they’re seeing to his burial in my absence,” she said, glancing again at the tearstained letter. Charity mentioned that Koko and George had already arranged for the funeral to be held in Bozeman, but that they would then take the body to the ranch for burial. Looking at the date of the letter, Dianne realized the funeral and burial were long behind them. Funny how Gus had died and Dianne hadn’t even realized it—hadn’t known that such a dear friend was gone.
Dianne wiped her eyes and glanced at the clock. It would soon be time for the boys to come home from school. How she missed them. She felt as though she’d betrayed their trust by sending them to the city school. Luke pined daily for the mountains and Barky. Micah had lost weight and seemed to always cower and hide in his room. Jo
hn, resilient as ever, hardly seemed to notice his ill treatment. He just went through life letting insult and misery roll off his back like rain on a slicker. But even John could understand the misery of his siblings and mother. He often tried to play the clown in order to pick up their spirits.
It was Lia who worried Dianne most, however. The child was not thriving. The doctor said the problem was something called asthma, which he described as a constriction of the airways. During one particularly bad spell, the doctor had given Lia a small dose of ether. The ether had calmed her coughing and wheezing attack but had rendered the child unconscious. Of course, the doctor hadn’t bothered to explain that this would happen and Dianne had been almost hysterical when Lia went limp in her arms. The doctor had quickly ushered Dianne from the room, and it was some time before the nurse came to retrieve her. The doctor could offer no reason for the illness, but he prescribed a medication for her to take four times a day, along with a tablespoon of strong coffee. It seemed to help, but Dianne knew in her heart that going back to Montana would help even more.
Cole was unmoved, however, by any of this. He rarely spoke to Dianne, probably because he knew her sadness would only cause them to fight. He came to bed late in the night—after he was sure Dianne was asleep. At least that’s what she suspected. It was taking its toll on them. Cole wore a haunted expression with dark circles under his eyes. He showed little interest in the boys or in Lia, making only minimal conversation at dinner. Dianne had convinced herself that it was his guilt that kept him from being able to spend time with his sons. They never failed to tell of how miserable they were at school … how the other children hated them … how they disliked their teacher and the discipline.
Dianne herself had tried to help the boys deal with their frustrations, promising them that soon, very soon, they would go home to Montana. But was it fair to promise them something she couldn’t even begin to hope for?
Folding the letter, she drew a deep breath and blew it out rather loudly. The sound reassured her that life had to go on. Lia would soon awaken from her nap, and the boys would be home within ten minutes. Dianne could only pray that they could have a peaceful evening without any disparaging remarks from her mother-in-law.
CHAPTER 10
SUNDAY SERVICES WERE LONG AND LABORIOUS FOR DIANNE. In the past, she had looked forward to spending time in church, but not here in Topeka. The people seemed cold and indifferent. They were friends of Cole’s mother and sisters, which meant they certainly could not be her friends as well. As the final hymn concluded and the last prayer was offered, Dianne breathed a sigh of relief. Soon they would go home and her obligations to the community would be concluded for another week.
“I’m hungry, Mama,” John said, wrapping his arms around Dianne.
“I know, sweetie. We’ll soon be home and it won’t take much time before lunch is ready.”
“Will you make us some cookies?” Micah asked.
Dianne tousled his hair. “We’ll see. If there’s time, I just might. Now come along. Papa has already started for the door.” Dianne herded her boys down the aisle filled with people, doing her best to follow Cole. He had taken the news of Gus’s passing hard. Perhaps not as hard as his father’s death, but Dianne thought it to be a very close second. Cole did manage to say that he had always seen Gus as a sort of father, that the man had helped him to learn a great deal about ranching. Dianne had agreed. It was the first peaceful conversation they’d had in months. Now, however, Cole seemed to be back to his old disinterested self. He had taken hold of his mother’s arm and escorted her out of the church, leaving Dianne and the children to fend for themselves. His actions hurt Dianne, but what could she say? She lowered her gaze to the floor. He was helping his aging mother. Who wouldn’t see that as a son’s duty? She kept her gaze fixed to the polished wood aisle, hoping no one would question her about anything.
“Mrs. Selby,” a tinny voice sounded from in front of her.
Dianne knew the irritating call belonged to Mrs. Weatherbee. Looking up, Dianne forced a smile. “Hello, Mrs. Weatherbee.” Dianne knew that good manners dictated that she stop and wait for the woman to speak, but with four restless children at her side, Dianne prayed the woman wouldn’t desire a long discourse.
“I was particularly moved by today’s sermon. I’m sure you could say the same.”
Dianne frowned. “It was quite in keeping with what I’ve come to expect on Sunday.”
“I thought it particularly meaningful, especially the part about the hypocrites,” she said, as if her words should hold some special meaning for Dianne. In truth it did. The pastor had spoken of Christians who were hypocritical. People whose words did not match their actions.
“I do agree with you on that matter, Mrs. Weatherbee. I’ve known a great many people who were happy to proclaim themselves to be living by the Bible’s teachings but whose lives showed it to be to the contrary.”
Mrs. Weatherbee’s head bobbed up and down so rapidly that Dianne feared the woman might actually hurt herself. “I know it must have been convicting.”
Dianne smiled. “I’m sure there are people who are positively trembling in fear as they leave the service today.”
Mrs. Weatherbee frowned. “Yes. Well, let us hope that the right people are stirred to obedience.”
Dianne nodded. “Indeed. Now, if you don’t mind, I must get home and help put on lunch.” Mrs. Weatherbee said nothing more. Dianne knew her intention had been to convince Dianne of her need to repent, but honestly, she felt no guilt in that area. The attitude she had now was mainly one of staying out of everyone’s way. Her mother-in-law said very little to her on any given day except to criticize. Still, Dianne was determined to live out her sentence, and to be sure, that’s what it was. A sentence of time to serve. Nothing more. There was no joy in this situation. No heartwarming moments spent with her mother-in-law. No nights gathered around the fire to hear stories of when Cole was young. There was nothing to hold Dianne here … nothing but her husband’s wishes.
Exiting the church, the pastor greeted Dianne with what resembled a pained expression. Perhaps his gout was acting up again or perhaps he just didn’t like having to deal with that woman Mary Selby’s son had married.
“Good day to you, Pastor Bruening. Thank you for the service.” She could offer nothing more complimentary.
“May God bless you, Mrs. Selby.”
“He has many times over,” Dianne replied and hurried her children along before anything else could be said.
Cole frowned as they approached. “I wondered where you were. We’ve been waiting to go home.”
“It’s completely inconsiderate,” Mary Selby pronounced in judgment.
Dianne held her tongue and helped the children into the buggy. Lia began coughing, but Dianne knew there was little she could do to help the child. Cole helped her into the buggy, and Dianne took Lia in her arms.
“Poor baby,” she cooed. “When we get home I’ll get some compresses for your chest.”
“You indulge that child entirely too much,” Mary Selby said from her place beside Cole.
Dianne gently pounded on Lia’s back to help her breathe better. It seemed this action always helped. “I would hardly think,” Dianne said softly, “that caring for a sick child would be considered indulgence by anyone.”
“She’s spoiled. She merely puts on these shows of illness to get attention,” Cole’s mother said. “I’ve heard about asthma before. It’s mostly a state of emotion that children work themselves into. When they don’t get their way, they put themselves into a state of asthma.”
“I tend to disregard rumors told by people less knowledgeable than the doctor.”
“A doctor was the one who said this,” Mary answered curtly. “You’d do well to punish her—send her to bed without dinner.”
“Mother, I hardly think Lia is faking her sickness,” Cole finally interceded. “The doctor said it’s quite dangerous. I don’t think a child her age could fool a d
octor.”
“Perhaps not, but there are other ways she’s overindulged.”
“Could be,” he said, not defending or disregarding.
Dianne felt her anger stir, but exhaustion with these continued arguments kept her from bringing it to the surface. No doubt it was best this way. Her emotional state had run the full gambit from fierce intensity to fading resignation.
Dianne was grateful that the boys remained silent throughout the ride. Lia’s coughing abated somewhat, and Dianne had managed to keep from arguing when her mother-in-law made snide comments. It wasn’t easy, but despair seemed to make it less important.
At home Dianne hurried her children upstairs, saw to their change of clothes, then went to the bedroom to ready herself for getting dinner on the table. When they had first arrived in Kansas, Dianne had helped Mary prepare the Sunday meal, but Mary never appreciated her efforts and had come to leave the entire responsibility on Dianne’s shoulders in order to spend her Sunday afternoons visiting with Cole. Dianne, in turn, had taken to fixing most of the food the night before, making it necessary to just warm things up. It was her own little rebellion, and even when she was exhausted on Saturday night, Dianne would put in the extra work hours just to make sure that Mary’s discussion time alone with Cole was limited.
Dianne hated herself for acting this way, but it was her only means of defense. Mary Selby seemed to be doing everything within her power to pull Cole away from her and the children. Dianne didn’t even bother to talk to Cole about it anymore. He always accused her of misunderstanding the situation, of believing his mother to have some kind of evil intent.
“It might not be evil,” Dianne muttered as she reheated the chicken and dumplings, “but it’s definitely selfish.”
Ten minutes into warming the food, the children joined her for their chores. Micah and Lia set the dining room table while Luke retrieved extra water for the stove’s reservoir. This would be heated sufficiently by the time the meal was over and would give them enough water to wash the dinner dishes. Meanwhile, John helped open two jars of green beans and one of peas. Dianne had already decided she would serve them without garnish, simply warmed with butter and a touch of salt. She took them from John and quickly poured them into separate pans on the back of the stove. It wouldn’t take long before they were hot.
Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] Page 10