They moved the cattle slowly to the north. The herd seemed content, not at all bothered by the gathering clouds. Gus felt certain they’d run into snow, so when the first flakes started falling, Cole merely raised the collar on his coat and hunkered down. The bad thing about being in the saddle for long hours was that it gave a man a lot of time to think. There were things to keep watch for and work to do, but Cole had no trouble doing that while contemplating what had become of his life.
He knew he’d made a mistake in taking the job with Bram Vandyke. He’d known up front that he’d have to see Dianne on nearly a daily basis. But he’d told himself this would purge her from his system. In fact, Cole had been convinced of that.
It didn’t work that way, however.
Instead of feeling better about putting Dianne aside, the pain of her nearness was acute. Cole couldn’t help but see her as she worked with some of the horses in the corral or earlier in the summer as she tended the garden and picked vegetables for canning. It seemed she was always outdoors, just as he was.
Cole had volunteered to sit in the range shack all winter just so he could distance himself from her. He figured it would help him clear his head once and for all. He’d spend the winter away from her and that would be that.
Then Dianne had gone and asked to accompany the men on this trip, and he’d nearly felt his resolve undo itself. There was no way he could handle her being there—riding alongside him—just as he envisioned she might do when he dreamed of her every night.
“Wind’s picking up and that snow’s getting heavier,” Gus said, interrupting Cole’s thoughts. Cole hadn’t even noticed that the older man had ridden back to meet him. “We’ll get the cattle settled in a canyon I know up the ways. Otherwise, I figure we’ll be drivin’ them in a blizzard.” Cole respected Gus’s opinion. The man seemed to know exactly the right thing to do at just the right time. “How will we keep them together?” Cole asked, raising his voice above the wind.
“I’ll put a few of you at one end of the canyon and the rest on the other end. The walls are too steep for them to go climbing much. Besides, I think they’ll be just as happy to stick this one out together.
“I’ll let the others know. Just keep sharp. No more daydreamin’,” Gus said with a hint of a smile. “This weather is about to get mean.”
“I don’t like the look of things,” Bram declared as he peeked out the front window. He took up his coat from the peg by the door. “I’m going out to check on the horses and make sure the barn doors are secure.”
“I’ll help you,” Dianne said, taking up the new coat Koko had given her as an early Christmas gift. The buckskin coat was lined with warm wool fleece. Dianne was never cold when she wore this. She pressed her hat down hard on her head, then secured it by tying a long wool scarf over it. This way her ears would stay warm.
“I’ll bring in some extra water,” Koko told them as Bram opened the door.
“No, you stay put. I’ll bring in extra wood and water,” Bram told her. He smiled as Jamie began to cry for his supper. “See—my son agrees.”
Koko shook her head. “No, he is telling you that wood and water are women’s work.”
Bram laughed heartily. “Maybe on most days, but today it’s my job.”
Dianne enjoyed the bantering between them. Bram and Koko were definitely in love. Dianne couldn’t have imagined it when she’d first arrived. Koko seemed so much younger, and Uncle Bram … well, he was Uncle Bram. To imagine him with a wife and then a child had been something that had never occurred to Dianne.
They headed out the back door, buttoning their coats as they went. Wind blew crusty bits of snow into Dianne’s face. It stung and she lowered her head against the wind and let her hat take the brunt of it.
“I can see to the animals,” she said, taking hold of her uncle’s arm.
“All right. You go ahead. Just make sure all the doors are secured. I’ll get the wood.” Bram turned to go, then stopped. “Hold on,” he commanded. Dianne waited, confused by his actions. She watched him go back into the house. Moments later he returned with a long rope in hand. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Take this,” he said. He gave her one end of the rope while he tied the other end of it to the cabin door. “Tie it to the barn door when you get there. That way if the snow gets too bad, we can follow this back and forth and not get lost.”
“Sounds wise,” Dianne said.
Dianne hurried to the barn and fixed the rope to the outside latch. Heading inside, she breathed the mingled odors of manure and hay. Here, the horses’ stalls offered the animals protection from the weather, but first she’d have to gather them in.
It was to Dianne’s benefit that she worked with the horses on a daily basis. They came easily to investigate her appearance—no doubt hoping for some kind of treat. Dianne ushered each animal into the barn, securing them away from the storm.
Next, she checked their supply of hay and water. She was relieved, on one hand, that many of the horses had gone north with the cowboys. But she also worried because if the weather was also bad where they were, the poor animals would suffer through the full force of the storm out in the open.
Then Cole and her brothers came to mind. Dianne was already shivering from the arctic winds, and she was inside the barn. How would it be to endure the blizzard from a saddle? Dianne whispered a prayer for the safety of each man on the drive. “Bring them back to us, Lord, without injury or harm.”
After the horses were cared for, Dianne made her way to tend to the chickens and milk cows. Because of a recent grizzly attack in which they’d lost one of their stock, Bram had moved the remaining cows to a small corral off of the second barn. This made it easy for Dianne to see to their needs.
By now the wind was moaning through the trees, and the snow was so heavy that visibility was limited to less than twenty yards. Dianne pressed on, however. The animals couldn’t fend for themselves, and it was up to her and Uncle Bram to make sure all was well.
Closing the shutters on the coop, Dianne felt confident the chickens would endure the cold just fine. They were a tough little breed. Animals in this territory had to be, she decided. People too. If you weren’t of enduring stock, you simply couldn’t make it in Montana.
Dianne made her way back through to the horse barn, grateful they’d worked so hard in preparation for winter. Everything would be just fine. This would no doubt be the first of many coming storms. Securing the barn door, Dianne turned to face the full impact of the wind. The storm’s intensity was now a force to be reckoned with.
Taking hold of the rope, Dianne worked her way along the corral, using the rope for guidance and the fence to steady her against the wind. She stumbled more than once as she fought to keep her balance. Snow quickly piled up, drifting against anything solid, including the fence posts. Her plan was to follow the fence until it ended at the drive and turned back to the east and trust the rope to bring her safely back to the cabin.
It seemed a good plan, but the cold was numbing her face and fingers, and her vision was obscured by the blowing snow. Reaching the end of the fence, Dianne knew there was no other choice but to let go and set out for the house. The rope gave her marginal confidence.
“Lord, watch over me,” she prayed aloud.
Her tiny frame, although well muscled, was no match for the wind. Dianne had staggered no more than two or three steps when she lost her footing and fell backward. The fall took the breath out of her momentarily; it also wrenched the rope from her hands. She struggled to sit up and to breathe. Gasping, she drew in mouthfuls of cold icy air, which only made her cough and gasp again.
Getting to her hands and knees, Dianne thought perhaps it was a better choice to just crawl the remaining distance. Her dress would be soaked by the time she made it back to the cabin, but at least she wouldn’t fall. Dianne looked up to get her bearings, but there was nothing she could see to take sight on. Reaching up, she tried to find the rope, but her arms batted use
lessly at the snowy air.
“Lord, I need some help here,” she said, forcing herself to keep moving. “I need help. Please send Uncle Bram to find me.” Immediately Dianne felt guilty. If Uncle Bram did worry about her and came looking, he could put himself in jeopardy as well. Koko and little Jamie needed him too much. “Lord, I’m just as happy if you would help me.”
Without warning, Dianne felt herself being lifted into the air. Someone had a firm grip around her waist and was helping her to steady herself as they moved forward. Silently, Dianne thanked God for His intervention, but it wasn’t until they reached the back door and were safely inside the cabin that Dianne realized who her rescuer was.
Her eyes widened as she fixed her gaze on Takes-Many-Horses. His black hair was wet with melting snow, but his smile seemed to indicate he’d not minded the inconvenience.
“Now you are Stands-Tall-Woman again,” he said, his grin broadening.
“Thank you,” Dianne whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a storm quite like this. Where’s Uncle Bram?” Dianne pulled off her gloves and stuffed them into her pockets. She then tried to force her cold fingers to work the buttons on her coat.
Koko rushed forward to fuss over her. “He’s changing his clothes and so should you. Now you go on. Just leave your boots here at the door and I’ll take care of them.” She helped Dianne out of her coat and took the scarf and hat.
Dianne looked back at Koko’s brother as she kicked off her boots. “When did you get here?”
“In time to help Bram with the wood and water. He sent me to find you while he finished with the last load.”
“It’s a good thing,” Dianne said, feeling not in the least bit embarrassed by her dilemma. Now was no time for pride. “I doubt I would have made it had you not come and helped me.”
He shook his head. “You would have made it just fine. You are strong—like my sister. No storm could stop you.”
Dianne took his praise warily. Takes-Many-Horses still unnerved her. Where Koko looked like nothing more than a darkly tanned white woman, Takes-Many-Horses looked every bit the part of Pikuni warrior.
“Come on,” Koko interceded, “you need to go change and then sit by the fire. I don’t want you coming down sick.”
“I’m coming,” Dianne told her friend, but her gaze was still fixed on the dark-eyed Blackfoot who’d rescued her.
CHAPTER 33
DIANNE QUICKLY CHANGED HER CLOTHES, PULLING ON A BROWN wool skirt and yellow blouse. She glanced in the mirror, noting that her hair was still fairly neat and deciding against doing anything more. She felt nervous about rejoining Koko and her brother. Dianne knew Uncle Bram would be there, as well, but it was still rather unnerving.
Takes-Many-Horses had the same upbringing as Koko, Dianne reminded herself as she reached for her doorknob. He’s not that different.
But he was different. He was Pikuni and proud of that fact.
Dianne went into the kitchen, where Koko and her brother were talking in hushed whispers. Uncle Bram had still not returned.
“I’ll set the table,” Dianne said, hurrying to gather the needed utensils and plates.
Jamie began to fuss and Koko smiled as he struggled on the buffalo robe. “He gets mad when he can’t do exactly what he wants.”
“And what does he want, sister?” Takes-Many-Horses asked as he moved to better view his nephew.
“He wants to crawl and walk and run, all at the same time,” Koko declared. “Much like his uncle.”
Dianne smiled to herself. She knew it was true of Jamie. The baby seemed very strong and very determined, and Dianne had no doubt that Koko’s brother had been the same way.
“Well, it doesn’t look like it’ll be letting up anytime soon,” Bram declared as he joined them. “It might snow like this for days.”
“I hope not,” Dianne said, thinking of the men on the cattle drive.
“I’m sure Gus will see everyone to safety. He’s been ranchin’ for a long time. He was foreman for almost twenty years down Texas way and then up in the Dakota Territory. He knows how to deal with the snow—even when it’s like this.”
“I’m glad to know that,” Dianne replied.
“I’ll bet you’re glad you stayed behind now too,” Bram declared.
Dianne straightened as she finished with the last plate. “I suppose I am. It wasn’t very pleasant out there.”
“I’m just glad you’re all safe,” Koko said, positioning her son so he could better see what was happening. “I can remember many times when people were lost up north when my father had the trading post. We’d hear about it come spring. Some poor fool would set out to walk to the post and winter would catch him unaware.” Koko pulled out the chair for her husband. “Supper is ready if you are.”
“I’m starved!” Bram exclaimed. “Besides, I know you’ve fried us up some chicken, and my mouth is watering just thinking about it.”
“And Dianne made an apple pie too,” Koko announced. “And of course we have green beans and potatoes.”
Bram took his seat. “Let’s stop talking and get to eating. Dianne, would you say grace tonight?”
Dianne turned from the stove where she’d just retrieved the coffeepot. “Sure, Uncle Bram.” She wondered what Koko’s brother would think of them praying. Dianne knew Uncle Bram had been instrumental in teaching Koko about Jesus, but had Takes-Many-Horses had the same lessons? Did he care about such things?
They all took their seats and Dianne was rather surprised to find that Takes-Many-Horses had chosen the seat beside her. The table was large enough to seat eight, and he certainly needn’t have crowded her.
They bowed in prayer and Dianne tried hard to steady her voice as she asked for protection for those on the trail as well as blessings on the food. All the while her mind was well aware of the man sitting at her right.
The meal began with lively conversation, and from the very start Dianne found herself drawn in when she’d expected only to listen.
“The Blackfoot are in trouble,” Takes-Many-Horses told them. “The white man has decided there is no room for us. They push us away and kill the buffalo for sport.”
“That grieves me as well,” Koko said sadly. “The Blackfoot use the buffalo for their very existence, while the whites seem to make a game of hunting.”
Dianne knew this to be true. She’d seen examples of it on the wagon train. Kills were made even when there was no hope of keeping all of the meat or butchering the entire animal.
“The white man can keep pushing, but the Pikuni will just push back. If we push hard enough, the whites will go back to where they came from.”
Dianne shook her head vehemently. “Don’t believe that. The harder you push the whites, the more tenacious and determined they will become.”
“She’s right, George,” Koko said, reverting to his Christian name. “You know our father was that way. As hard as it was to keep a trading post in Indian country, he was only strengthened by the adversity.”
Takes-Many-Horses leaned back in his chair and eyed Dianne, quite serious. She met his gaze and squared her shoulders. There was a raw, unspoiled wildness about this man that held her captive yet terrified her at the same time.
“You think the whites will stay. Even with the Sioux and Cheyenne killing them? Even with the Blackfoot taking as many lives as they can?”
“Yes, I do,” Dianne replied. “Think of your father for an example. Or Uncle Bram.” She looked to the older man for confirmation.
“It’s true. The whites will force the Indian out, just as they have in the East. They’ll come with their superior weapons and numbers and little by little have every single Indian driven off the land.”
“We won’t let them,” Koko’s brother declared. “We’ll all die if need be.”
“Sadly, that’s what it will probably come to,” Bram said. “Why do you think I’ve tried to convince you to come join us here? At least if you’re living with us, living as a white man, you won�
�t be rounded up with the others.”
“But they’re my people,” Takes-Many-Horses declared.
Koko put her fork down. “So are we.”
“It’s not the same. I’ve taken the life of a Blackfoot. I’m accepted there. Any other white man would see me as a Pikuni. You know it’s true.”
“I know that,” Koko admitted, “but I also know that what my husband says is true. I don’t wish to lose you. I don’t wish to see you dead on the battlefield, believing in your heart that you had to kill or be killed.”
“That’s all that’s left to us. The whites will never allow us to be a part of their world.”
The conversation halted for several minutes. Dianne took the opportunity to cut the pie and offer it for dessert. Takes-Many-Horses took a piece and ate it quickly. He asked for a second before Bram or Koko had even begun to eat their first.
Dianne smiled and dished him another slice. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Some white man’s food is worth eating,” he said, grinning. “This meal was definitely one of those.”
“So stay with us awhile and eat like this every night,” Koko said.
Takes-Many-Horses laughed and declared, “I’d get as fat and lazy as a white man.”
Dianne pondered his words as the meal concluded and Koko left to put Jamie to bed. Takes-Many-Horses’ attitude toward whites was much the same as the white man’s attitude toward blacks. She remembered Faith talking about how no one wanted to hire her husband, a gifted and experienced blacksmith, because he was black and everyone believed he would be lazy.
“The two words go together,” Faith had once told her. “Black and lazy. They’ve come to almost mean the same thing, and whether we prove our worth or not, the branding follows us.”
Dianne had been saddened by that declaration, but now she thought of how the Indians viewed her own people. They saw the whites as marauders. Thieves. The whites would trespass upon the Indian lands, steal the buffalo, kill the people, and never face any retribution for their actions. The whites were lazy to the Indian—choosing to take what didn’t belong to them rather than working to make better what they already possessed. The whites were nothing more than opportunists in the eyes of the Indian.
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