Land of My Heart (39 page)

“They were desperate enough—been a long time since any of them ate decent. They didn’t appear to be drinkers, either, so I figured them to be a good risk.”

That night Bram invited Cole and Gus to join the family for supper. Dianne was happy about the arrangement but couldn’t really explain why. She knew she would enjoy hearing all about the trip, but her brothers could have just as easily told her about it and left Cole relegated to supper with the rest of the boys.

Cole looked a bit browner than when he’d departed, but it was the weary expression on his face and the sorrow in his eyes that drew Dianne’s attention. Perhaps that’s why she wanted him to join them for the evening meal. He seemed so lost. So completely left out.

“The ladies had a bit of excitement while we were gone,” Bram began, pausing only long enough to light one of his favorite cigars. “Koko’s brother and a band of Pikuni warriors came to the ranch.”

“What happened?” Zane questioned. Dianne knew he’d been keeping up as best he could with the Indian conflicts on the plains. Indian problems of any kind interested the young man.

“They pert near scared your sister half to death for one thing,” Bram explained. Dianne felt her cheeks grow hot. She knew Koko had probably shared all the details of her screaming escapade. “She handled herself well, however,” Bram continued. “When one of the warriors declared he would take her horse for his own, our little Dianne grabbed a rifle and made her stand on the mounting block. Waving the gun and her fist like that abolitionist John Brown, she told him in no uncertain terms that he would not take her horse.”

Everyone except Dianne burst into laughter at this. “I did not shake my fist at him,” she said defensively. This only caused everyone to laugh all the harder. Even Cole couldn’t keep from chuckling. Finally she couldn’t help but join in their amusement.

“My brother gave her a new name,” Koko said as the laughter died down. “He called her Stands-Tall-Woman.”

“He probably should have called her Bluffing Woman,” Zane said, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine she would have ever had the gumption to shoot anyone—even for Dolly.”

“You might be surprised what this little gal can do when she sets her mind to it,” Bram said proudly.

“I don’t doubt it,” Cole said, winking at Dianne in support. He pushed back from his plate. “I’d best take my leave. I’ll be heading out early in the morning.”

“You aren’t staying?” Koko asked.

“No, ma’am. I promised I’d get back to town. My father has some business he wants to discuss—said it was urgent.”

Dianne straightened and squared her shoulders. She wanted to ask him a million questions but said nothing. How could she ask with everyone else sitting there watching—listening?

Cole got to his feet. “Good night.”

Dianne watched him go, fighting the urge to run after him and demand information. Why was he going back to his father? It was completely unfair to tell her that his father had killed his intended, then never allow her to know why or what had happened.

Cole hated the very sight of Virginia City—even more so the mining claim where he and his father had worked to make their fortune. There were fewer people here now but more makeshift equipment. With gold being harder to find, many of the whites had moved on. Now quite a few workers were of Asian descent. It was the way of things, Cole had been told. The Chinese were forever coming in behind the impatient whites. They seemed not to mind taking up the leavings of others. They made out well enough for themselves, Cole surmised, noting the improvements.

Of course, there were no improvements when it came to his father’s claim. It was still the same rundown shack they’d traded their tent for. Securing his horse, Cole didn’t even bother to knock on the door of the rickety building. A stiff breeze might well topple the thing over. What would an angry knock do?

Hallam Selby turned from the small tin stove where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Cole! I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

Cole strode across the room. “I couldn’t see putting this off any longer. What do you want from me?”

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” His father held up the pot.

“No,” Cole said, taking up a chair. He turned it around backward and mounted it as he would a horse. “I don’t have a lot of time. I want to know what was so all-fired important that I had to come. You said it was a matter of life and death.”

“And it is,” his father declared. He brought his cup of coffee to the table and took his seat opposite Cole. “I’ve done a lot of thinking since you’ve been gone. I know you hate me, and I don’t rightly blame you, but I want to state my case, and for once I want you to hear me out. If you still want nothing to do with me after that, then I won’t bother you again.”

Cole had no desire to hear anything his father had to say, but he figured there was little choice. “Say your piece.”

His father nodded. “I never meant for anything bad to happen to that girl.”

“Carrie.”

“Yes, Carrie. I never thought it would come to that or that innocent blood would be spilled. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of my own girls and how I’d feel if someone … if someone …”

“Cut them down in cold blood?” Cole filled in.

Hallam nodded. “I never meant to take her life, but I’m guilty as charged. I can’t bring Carrie back. I would give my life in exchange if I could.”

“Well, that’s an easy enough thing to say since you know there’s no chance of it,” Cole said in disgust. “Are you done yet?”

“Show me some respect, boy. I tolerate your attitude because I know if I were in your boots, I’d probably say even worse—maybe do worse. The truth is, I want your forgiveness. I recently started going to the Methodist church in town, and the pastor there spoke to me and made me see that without God, I’m nothing.”

Cole refrained from saying that in his mind Hallam Selby was already relegated to that category. He seethed at the suggestion that he should offer his father forgiveness. The man deserved nothing.

“I want to go back to Topeka and make things right with your mother but not without making things right with you.”

Cole stood up. “You can’t make things right with me, so forget it.”

Hallam toyed with his cup, staring at the contents. “I’d like you to come with me. I’d like us to make a new start as a family.”

Cole balled his fists but kept his arms at his sides. “I’m not going anywhere with you. So you got a case of conscience. So what? What possible difference can that make to me? God may forgive and forget, but God isn’t the one who planned to marry Carrie. God isn’t the one who cradled her as she breathed her last.” Cole stormed off toward the door, then halted and spun around. “God may forgive and forget, but I can’t. Not now—not ever.”

Guilt ate at Cole’s heart as he mounted his horse. Turning the beast for town, Cole knew he should go back and apologize. He knew he should forgive his father; after all, it was an accident. Still, the thought lingered in his mind that it would never have happened had his father and friends not taken the law into their own hands. Carrie would still be alive if they would have just left well enough alone.

“Carrie,” he whispered. But Cole realized he felt very little. Time had dulled the aching in his heart and stilled the memories of better days.

He couldn’t even remember what she looked like—not wholly. Her image had faded a little more with each passing month, and in its place came the outline of a vivacious blond whose eyes seemed to pierce his very soul.

“Dianne.”

He straightened in the saddle as a wash of determination came over him. “I won’t do it,” he declared. “I won’t love her. I won’t see her again. If I have to go all the way to Texas, I won’t put myself in a position where I have to deal with her again.”

CHAPTER 28

M
AY WAS A MONTH OF CHANGE IN MONTANA. IT COULD BE LOVELY
and warm one day and bring six inches of snow the next. In the three years since leaving Missouri to come west, Dianne Chadwick had also done a good deal of changing.

Washing up the breakfast dishes, Dianne considered her life in Montana. She was now nineteen years old. It seemed as though a lifetime of events had taken place since coming to her uncle’s ranch. The ranch itself bore witness of that. Dianne could see that this much was true from the window of the newly added kitchen.

When they’d first arrived on the ranch they were blessed to have a nice-sized barn and three corrals. Now they had two barns—one having become a stable and smithy for their growing herd of horses. The other had been given over to the milk cows with an extension added off the side for a chicken coop.

Beside this, there were bigger corrals and two small bunkhouses. Bram hadn’t stopped there. He’d added a porch onto the cabin so that Koko could work outside even when it rained. She hated being cooped up, especially now as she faced the final days of her first pregnancy.

Dianne could hardly wait for the birth of the baby. The house needed children. She needed children. In the years since losing her sisters, Dianne had come to realize that children had a way of looking at life that cheered the soul. What frightened Dianne about the arrival of Koko’s baby, however, was that there would be no midwife—no other person to help with the delivery. Koko had been training Dianne, telling her what would happen and what she would need to do to help, but the task seemed overwhelming. This was a matter of life and death, and Dianne had no idea of whether she was up to the challenge.

Of course, Uncle Bram and the twins would be here. Dianne had been pleasantly surprised that Zane and Morgan had chosen to stay on with Bram for so long. However, Zane had again been dropping hints that he might sign on with the army to fight the Indian wars, while Morgan was fascinated by everything he could read about Lewis and Clark’s expedition to the Pacific Northwest.

They’re grown men
, she reminded herself.
Grown men who deserve to live their lives, marry, and start families. They certainly aren’t going to be able to do that here. At least not find wives. They’ll need to go elsewhere, and then there’s always the chance they won’t come back.

The idea of losing them hurt Dianne, but no more than the loss of Trenton. In three years’ time there had been only two letters. One from Omaha, where he wrote to tell of how he’d nearly been killed by a group of cutthroats when he tried to rescue a saloon girl. The woman nursed him back to health, charging him nothing and taking no pay from him. The second letter came from Texas. Trenton told her the bitter cold in Nebraska had driven him south and that once he got headed in that direction, he just kept going. He’d seen the Gulf of Mexico and had been quite impressed. For three weeks he’d slept out on the beach, falling asleep every night to the sound of the water crashing upon the shore. Dianne thought the idea very appealing and wondered if she might someday see the ocean.

Trenton had been sorry to hear about the death of his mother and sisters. He’d been sympathetic about the way Dianne had been forced to grow up so quickly and wondered if she’d found a man to settle down with and raise a family.

Dianne had to smile at that memory. She washed the last of the coffee cups, then set to drying the entire load. Toweling off the plates, she couldn’t help but think of the men Uncle Bram now had working for him. Of course there was Levi, and he seemed ever interested in Dianne, but the truth was she had no desire to return his feelings. The other men were kind and considerate—Uncle Bram would have had it no other way. But while they were respectable and often made her laugh, Dianne had room for only one man in her heart.

“Are you daydreaming?” Koko asked as she came from her bedroom. Dianne smiled. “I suppose I am. I’ve been thinking about my life here—about coming west and all that’s happened.” She put the dishtowel down and pulled out a chair at the table. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired, but I think the baby will come soon, so I’m trying to save my strength.”

Dianne bit her lower lip and turned away. “Would you like some tea?” She reached for one of the clean cups.

“I know you’re worried, but don’t be. We’ll do fine. I’ve watched my mother’s people give birth. God will bring us through this.”

Dianne came to where Koko sat and took the chair beside her. Reaching out to take hold of Koko’s soft brown hands, Dianne spoke. “I know God will bring us through. I feel the truth in that. I just feel so inadequate to the task. What if I do something wrong and end up causing you more pain or even hurting you?”

“Trusting God requires walking forward into the unseen places,” Koko said, her black brows rising as she shrugged. “We can’t avoid what will come. Babies won’t be put off. So no matter what our fears might be, we cannot change things now.”

Dianne considered her words and nodded. “I’ll try to be as helpful to you as I can.”

Koko squeezed her hand. “I know you will. We are sisters now— time and love has made it so.”

“Yes,” Dianne said, meeting the woman’s warm gaze. “We are sisters.”

Koko got to her feet and pressed her hand against her swollen abdomen. “I think the baby will come by nightfall.”