Land of My Heart

by Tracie Peterson

  Dianne wiped at the tears that streamed down her cheeks. They were just little babies. They did nothing wrong. Why are they dead? She hugged Millie, as she had Miss Kilpatrick, as if the feel of these inanimate objects could somehow bring her closer to what she’d lost.

  Farther in the trunk, Dianne found Betsy’s three everyday dresses. They’d buried her in her Sunday best, so all three of these gowns, worn from the activities of a rambunctious child, would be perfect for her project. She put Millie back in the trunk atop Betsy’s sunbonnet and shawl. There was also a little coat that Dianne remembered as a Christmas gift from the year before.

  She closed the lid and looked at the gowns beside her. A part of her wanted to just put them back and not tear them up. Another part knew they were useless where they lay. They weren’t good enough to sell and besides, Dianne couldn’t bear to think of other little girls wearing her sisters’ gowns. The rugs would serve to remind her of Ardith and Betsy every day—much better than wasting away in a trunk.

  Days later, Dianne was sitting at the table tearing the material into strips for braiding when her mother let out a terrible moan and sat up in bed. Dianne put aside her work and got to her feet.

  “Mama, are you all right? Do you need help?”

  “What are you doing?” her mother asked groggily. She struggled to sit up on the rope bed.

  Dianne went quickly to her. “Are you hungry? I have some potato soup. I’ve kept it warm on the back of the stove.”

  “No, I’m not hungry. Where are the boys?”

  Her mother looked terrible. The dark half circles under her eyes had expanded to full circles and gave her a ghastly look against her pasty complexion. Her cheeks were sunken, leaving her face quite drawn.

  “Morgan and Zane are working. They’ll be home this evening.”

  Her mother barely seemed to register the information. “Have you heard from my brother yet?”

  Dianne shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve checked at the post office, but there’s no news.”

  “Well, go again,” her mother said, her tone determined. She ignored Dianne and pushed past her to go to her trunk. She opened the lid, appearing to barely have the strength for the task.

  Dianne came forward. “Let me help you. What are you looking for?”

  “I don’t need any help,” her mother said, continuing her search. When she produced a dark brown bottle, Dianne felt her hopes fade that her mother might be on the mend.

  “Mama, you shouldn’t be taking that laudanum.” Dianne had wondered where the bottles had gone. When they’d had the auction, a local doctor had offered to buy any and all medicines they might have brought with them. He was especially pleased to have laudanum, but Dianne had been shocked to find many bottles missing. She reached out gently and repeated herself. “You shouldn’t take that.”

  “You shouldn’t speak to me in such a manner. I’ll do what I please.” Her mother jerked away.

  Dianne felt there was nothing to do but return to her work on the rugs. Her mother had strange lucid moments like this, and when they came, there was no sense in questioning her actions or deeds. She was in a world unto herself.

  “I asked you before, what are you doing?” her mother said, coming to the table where Dianne was working.

  “I’m making a rag rug. The dirt floor gets pretty cold and since the boys and I have to sleep there, I thought I’d do what I could to make it more comfortable. I don’t have a lot of scraps yet, but I thought I’d check around town. I might even use some of the new material, but it seems a pity to waste it that way.”

  Her mother picked up the one dress Dianne hadn’t yet rendered to strips. “What is this doing here? Whose is this?”

  “It’s Betsy’s, Mama. Don’t you remember it?”

  Her mother took the dress to the stove and opened the door. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tossed the dress inside before Dianne could stop her.

  Dianne sat in stupefied silence. Her mother closed the door and looked at her oddly. “You have a wild imagination, Dianne. You’d do well not to make up such nonsense.”

  “What nonsense? I merely told you the dress belonged to Betsy.”

  “Who is Betsy? Your imaginary friend?”

  Dianne stiffened. She didn’t know what to say. “Betsy, Mama. Don’t you remember? My little sister Betsy.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her mother turned to go back to the bed. She uncorked the bottle first, however, and took a long drink of the laudanum. “There, that will help my headache.”

  Dianne fought back tears, frightened beyond explanation. Seeing her mother fade away and lose her grip on reality was worse than losing her in a sudden death.

  “Now get down to the post office and bring home Bram’s letter,” her mother declared as she curled up on the bed. “It’s bound to be there. Or maybe he’s even waiting there for us. Hurry up.”

  Dianne put her things aside and took up her coat. She knew it was senseless to go, but she figured she’d take a letter she’d been meaning to post. She hadn’t written to Ramona since arriving in the territory, and she wanted very much to share all the news. Good and bad.

  “I’ll be back as quickly as I can,” Dianne announced, taking up her purse. Her mother didn’t acknowledge her in any way, but Dianne hadn’t expected her to. Dianne checked the contents of her bag, finding nearly thirty dollars. She always carried this much because one could never tell when there might be a new shipment of fruit or some other rare commodity. And always the price was steep. She pulled the strings tight and looked again to her mother. Already she’d closed her eyes to sleep.

  “I’ll hurry, Mama.”

  Outside, the temperatures felt crisp, invigorating. It wasn’t too cold yet, but at night it was a different story. Dianne could never seem to get warm at night. Even sleeping between Morgan and Zane didn’t offer her enough warmth. She pulled her shawl close at the thought. Maybe she could get one of the boys to build another bed. They could surely spare money for something that important. Besides, having looked at the crude construction of the one their mother slept in, Dianne was almost certain she could build it herself.

  The main street of Virginia City teemed with people. Most were men and many were drunk. It seemed a natural pastime in a mining town. Dianne made her way to the post office, hoping there might actually be a letter. She didn’t have much reason to believe there would be, however, so when the postmaster shook his head, she wasn’t really all that disappointed.

  “I need to post this letter,” she told the man behind the counter.

  “I’ll take care of it for you.”

  Dianne nodded. “Thank you.” There seemed to be no other small talk necessary, so she turned around and started for home. Discouraged by the turn of events, Dianne fought to keep depression from setting in. She thought back to her conversation with Zane and Morgan. What would they do if her mother didn’t recover? What if she had the baby and then slipped away—died? Dianne would have an infant to care for. She could hardly cross the distance to Missouri with a baby to provide for.

  “Dianne! Oh, Dianne, it is you!”

  Dianne looked up to see Faith coming toward her. The woman had been crying—still cried. “What’s wrong, Faith?”

  “It’s Malachi. Some men beat him up. He’s at the tent hospital right now and might not live.”

  “No!”

  “He needs more care than I can pay for. I don’t know what they’ll do when I come back and can’t give them the money they’ve asked for. Please pray for us.”

  “Surely they won’t deny a man doctoring just because he can’t pay. What kind of world would it be if that happened?”

  “They can and will deny it to a black man,” Faith said bitterly. “They don’t care about our kind.”

  “Oh, Faith, I’m so sorry.” Dianne hugged the older woman.

  “He just can’t die, Dianne. I need him. I love him.” She pulled away. “Oh, I’m sorr
y. Listen to me. I know the Lord will provide, but the shock of this has been so great. I thought the worst was behind us, but …” She let the words trail off as she wiped her eyes. “The Lord will provide. I will find my strength in Him.”

  Dianne suddenly remembered the money in her purse. “I have some extra money. I’m going to give it to you for Malachi’s care.” She opened the bag and pulled out some of the cash. “Here. Don’t tell anyone where it came from. If word gets back to Griselda and she tells my mother, there will be no end to the trouble it will cause.”

  “I can’t take this,” Faith said, trying to push the money back. “I can’t be getting you in trouble.”

  “Look, we have enough to share. I don’t know how far this will take you, but at least it will show them you’re capable of paying for Malachi’s care. Then they won’t refuse to help him.”

  Faith began to cry afresh. “I can’t pay you back. Not until Malachi gets well and is able to find gold.”

  Dianne shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that he gets well. Try to get word back to me and let me know how he is. You can always go to the freight company where my brothers work.”

  Faith nodded. “I will. I promise.” She looked at the money and then back to Dianne. “No white person has ever been as nice to me as you have, Dianne. I’m going to pray God will bless you, like you’ve blessed me. This is an answer to prayer.”

  Dianne watched Faith hurry off in the direction of the hospital. Even now, with Malachi beat up, she still believed God was there for her— listening, helping. She could still hear Faith’s comment—“This is an answer to prayer.” Was that true? Was the real reason Dianne was out on the streets of Virginia City so that she could run across Faith instead of receive a letter from her uncle? The idea seemed most peculiar.

  CHAPTER 18

  BRAM VANDYKE HAD THE STATURE OF A MAN WHO COMMANDED attention. Standing nearly six foot three, with broad shoulders and thick beefy arms, he was the type of man that most other men either avoided or befriended.

  Stalking into the post office, Bram slapped his hand down on the counter. “I’ve come for my mail,” he told the postmaster.

  “Mr. Vandyke! Why, we haven’t seen you since the start of summer. How are things up north?” the man asked, bringing Bram only two letters.

  “The cattle are well. I’m glad to say that much. Had trouble with a grizzly in June, but it was a sow and her cubs and I think they went off into the hills when she saw I was going to fight for my livestock.” The postmaster laughed and Bram continued. “Not sure how the livestock will fair the winter, but we had a good season with them.” He studied the letters in his hand, both from Missouri. He paid the postmaster and immediately opened the first one. Glancing over it quickly, he noted that his brother-in-law had been killed. The second letter was even more shocking. It was penned by his niece Dianne and told that the family had decided to come west—to live with him.

  “Your kinfolk have been asking after you,” the postmaster declared. It was as if he’d been waiting for Bram to read the news before announcing this startling fact.

  “So they came, eh?” Bram folded the letters and stuffed them into his pocket. “Do you know where they are?”

  “Sure do. They made me promise to direct you the minute I laid eyes on you. I’d say they’re feeling rather desperate.”

  Bram felt rather desperate himself. What was he going to do about this new turn of events? There was no possible way to explain his life over the last few years. His sister would never understand.

  The postmaster gave him the details, explaining where he could find the family and the easiest way to get there. Bram left his other shopping plans and went immediately in search of the family. If he were lucky, they’d never have to know about his life. He could simply put them on a stage to Great Salt Lake City and then hopefully they could get back home from there.

  He came upon the small cabin and grimaced. It was nothing more than a shack, hardly worthy of animals, much less his genteel sister. How it must have grieved her to settle into a place like this.

  He knocked, apprehensive of what he’d find. He was sorry Ephraim had passed on, but he simply couldn’t take on caring for his sister and her family.

  The door opened and a young woman with blond hair stood looking at him as though he were there to rob her. “You must be Dianne,” he said quickly. “I’m Uncle Bram.”

  Her face lit up. “Uncle Bram! Oh, but Mama will be so happy to see you. Everything will be fine now that you’ve arrived. Come in. Come in.” Her animated chatter made him even more uneasy. Obviously she saw him as their savior.

  Bram bent to step into the cabin. The lantern light gave the room a golden glow, but the air was chilly. He noted the dirt-packed floor and crude furnishings. Then he noted that his niece had crossed the room to where a woman lay on a bed. Surely Susannah wasn’t sick.

  “Mama, Uncle Bram has come.”

  “Bram? Oh, has he finally come?” His sister struggled, with Dianne’s help, to get to her feet. That’s when he saw that she was heavy with child. Lord, what do I do now? How can I help her? He fought back a grimace as Susannah walked over to him. She seemed to stumble, almost sway with each step. Was she drunk?

  “Oh, Bram, is it truly you? I prayed you’d come. We’ve waited so long and I was so afraid.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “What are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t you get our letter?” Susannah asked, seeming just a bit more clearheaded.

  “I got it just now. I only come to town a couple times a year. I came back in May, but the letter wasn’t there.”

  “Oh, well at least that explains why you weren’t here to pick us up. We’ve nowhere to go but to your care. Ephraim is dead and Trenton deserted me. And, as you can see, I’m going to have a baby.”

  “Where are the others?” he asked.

  Susannah shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Bram looked to Dianne. The girl seemed uncomfortable but answered, “The boys are working at one of the freight companies. The girls died on the way out here.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. This is not a gentle land.” He looked back to his sister. Odd that she had only mentioned Ephraim dying.

  “Well, we’ll be just fine now that you’re here. I can take care of you after the baby comes. I can cook and clean for you and make you a nice home.”

  “Look, this isn’t going to work. I only have a small cabin and it’s a fair piece away from here.”

  Just then the door opened and two blond-haired men, perfect images of each other, bounded through the door. “We finished early,” they declared in unison, then stopped, eyeing Bram. “Who’s he?”

  “This is Uncle Bram,” Dianne announced. “He’s just come.”

  The boys, men really, stepped forward and shook his hand. “Good to see you, sir. I’m Morgan Chadwick.”

  “And I’m Zane. Sure glad you finally came.”

  Bram shook his head. He had to make them understand. “I don’t think you’ll be so happy once you hear me out. I was just telling your mother that I can’t be having you at my cabin. It’s over twenty-five miles from here, and it’s much too small for all of us to live comfortably.” He turned to Susannah, who looked rather stunned. “Besides, with you like this,” he pointed to her rounded stomach, “there would be no help for you, except for my wife.”

  “Wife?” Susannah questioned, sounding almost angry. “I had no idea you had married. All these years and you never mentioned her once.”

  “We just married about five years back. I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you.”

  Susannah shook her head and began to pace in an unsteady manner. “You can’t turn your back on us. We’ve come all this way. You’re my brother and you have to take us in. Where else would we go? What would we do?”

  Bram looked to each of the children. Dianne seemed to watch him with such an intense stare that he couldn’t help but address her. “I’m sorry,
Dianne. If I’d known sooner, I probably could have suggested a better solution, but this isn’t going to work.”

  Dianne stepped forward and put her arm around her mother’s shoulder. “It has to work. We’ve rather run out of options. We have some money… .”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s it. We have money to give you,” her mother interrupted. “Surely you can’t complain that we wouldn’t be pulling our weight. We can pay our way.”

  “I never said you wouldn’t pull your own weight, Susannah. It’s just not something I can explain or hope you’ll understand. My life isn’t something you’d favor.”

  “Why not? You said you’d decided to settle to one place and raise cattle. Why would I be against such honest business?”

  “It’s not the business, it’s the conditions. You won’t have the convenience you had back in Missouri. Things are hard here; provisions don’t come in regular-like. I only make it over this way twice a year for supplies, and even then, I can only get what little variety is available. Not to mention the weather. Winters up here are cold. Real cold. The temperature can drop to forty below and it can snow something fierce. You’d never be able to endure it.”

  “You think we’ll endure it any better in this cabin?” Dianne asked, surprising him with her boldness.

  “I noticed it was in pretty bad shape,” Bram admitted.

  “Well, I don’t think we’ll find something better,” Dianne continued. “I’ve had an advertisement posted at the general store, seeking a better place, ever since we moved in here.”

  “I have friends in town. I might be able to work something out. Why don’t you let me check around? I don’t want you to have to stay here, that’s for sure, but neither can I take you with me. Come spring, we’ll talk again and see what should be done. By then the baby will have come and you’ll know better what you want to do. My guess is that you’ll want to head back to Missouri.”