Land of My Heart (28 page)

She saw the door beside the stove and went to investigate, finding the porch Uncle Bram had mentioned. This was a very nice addition indeed. It would be a good place to keep the chickens and to wash and hang laundry in the winter. She opened the porch door and saw her uncle instructing the twins on how to construct a fence.

“It’ll be expensive to find ready-made poles,” he was saying, “but if you ride out northeast of here, you’ll find some trees and can make your own poles. It’ll be hard work, especially with winter coming on, but you’ll need it to keep the animals contained.” He said something else that she couldn’t hear, then bid the boys good-bye and headed around the cabin to the front.

Dianne closed the door and leaned against it. She sighed, knowing that most everything they needed to do would be hard work. She wondered how they would ever keep enough coal and wood, how they would afford the feed for the animals without using up all of their savings.

Walking through the house to the front door, Dianne figured she should tell her uncle good-bye. She didn’t want to say things she might regret, however, so she determined in her heart to say as little as possible. She opened the door and stepped out. There, on the opposite side of the wagon, she saw her uncle talking quite solemnly to a dark-skinned woman. The woman was much shorter than Uncle Bram and clearly of Indian descent. Dianne made her way toward them and both looked surprised when she approached.

“Uncle Bram, I’ve come to say good-bye,” she stated without emotion. “Thank you for helping us find this place. I hope we’ll be able to keep up with things until spring.”

She couldn’t help herself and pointed to the woman. “Who is this?” She knew she was being rude, but Dianne didn’t feel in the least bit charitable at the moment.

Bram looked to the woman and then back to Dianne. Before he answered he looked to the ground. “This is Koko. She’s part of the reason I couldn’t explain everything to you.”

Dianne met the young woman’s gaze. Koko had brown eyes that seemed to take in everything at once and a compassionate look that suggested she knew how difficult this situation was for Dianne.

“I’m Dianne Chadwick. I’m his niece.”

Koko looked at Bram, who was still staring at the ground. “Koko is my wife, Dianne,” he said in a clear voice.

“No!” The cry came from behind Dianne. Her mother stood just a few feet away, but how she had found the strength or sobriety to come outside was beyond Dianne.

“Mama, you’re supposed to be in bed.”

“You can’t be married to a heathen squaw!” her mother declared, coming forward. “I won’t have it. You must get rid of her.”

Bram shook his head. “See,” he said to Dianne more than to anyone, “this is why you can’t come live with me. Your mother would never accept my wife, and I will never leave her.”

Dianne took hold of her mother as she flung herself at Koko. “You aren’t welcome here,” she screamed. “You heathen! You’ve cast some kind of spell on my brother. Well, you can’t have him! Dianne, go get your father. He’ll deal with this.” Dianne held tight to her mother’s arm.

Morgan and Zane appeared just then. “Take Mama back in the house,” Dianne commanded. Morgan came forward and lifted Susannah into his arms. She fought him and screamed.

“Ephraim, come here! You need to help me!”

“What’s wrong with her? Why is she calling for Pa?” Zane asked as Morgan headed to the house.

“This is Uncle Bram’s wife, Koko,” Dianne said by way of explanation. Suddenly everything made perfect sense.

CHAPTER 20

C
HRISTMAS WAS NEARLY UPON THEM BUT THERE WAS NO CHANCE
for celebration. Dianne hadn’t thought much about the season at all, except to wonder why God had brought her family to this end. In the back of her mind she couldn’t help but remember better days, happy celebrations with a Christmas tree and presents. She could almost smell her mother’s gingerbread cookies—taste the cranberry punch. And if she didn’t mind the heartbreak so much, she could hear the animated giggles of her little sisters as they danced around the house in anticipation of what Christmas would bring.

Virginia City certainly held nothing of that account for her now.

With her brothers busy working as team drivers, hauling goods back and forth between Great Salt Lake City and Virginia City, Dianne found herself most often alone with her mother. It was a lonely life. She’d heard stories on the wagon train of women who went crazy living in the wilderness. She could understand it now. Hours upon end, day after day with no one to talk to, nothing to do but sew and cook and clean, gave Dianne nothing to look forward to.

She knew her mother would deliver the baby soon. Dianne had arranged for the doctor to come and check up on her mother, and everything seemed to be fine. Now they needed only to wait, which was a task Dianne didn’t do all that well.

Working on a quilt that she’d designed for her brothers, Dianne thought about Christmas and sighed. There’d be no tree or presents. Well, she had made Zane and Morgan each a new shirt, but it hardly seemed like a real present. Dianne had made her mother a new nightgown, as well, but had given it to her early, as the old one was falling apart. Her mother hadn’t even acknowledged the gift. But of course, she wasn’t acknowledging much of anything these days.

Glancing out the window, Dianne noticed that it had started to snow again. She wondered if the livestock would have enough feed and water should the weather turn bad. She looked at the clock and decided to give it an hour or so and see what happened. She still wasn’t sure how to figure mountain weather. In Missouri she would see certain signs and know it was going to rain or storm. She could determine very accurately how quickly the weather would be upon them. But here in the mountains the elements never seemed to do quite what she thought they would.

She sat stitching and thinking about her life. She wondered if her friends back in Missouri were safe. She’d heard nothing from them and worried that the war had taken its toll on their lives. She wondered, too, about Faith and whether Malachi had survived his ordeal. There’d simply been no chance to find out.

A knock at the door startled her. Dianne put her quilting aside and went to see who it might be. To her surprise it was Griselda Showalter. As much as she despised the woman’s boisterous, pompous attitude, Dianne was actually glad to see her.

“Mrs. Showalter, how nice of you to come.”

“I’m here to see your mother,” she announced, pushing past Dianne in her usual fashion. “Where is she? Is she well? Has the baby come?”

Dianne closed the door, but not before she noted the thick collection of snow on the path leading to their door. With Griselda here she could leave her mother and go tend the animals—maybe even make a trip into town.

“No, the baby hasn’t come,” Dianne said. “Here, let me take your coat and hat.”

Griselda parted with the items readily. “Well, you’re doing quite well for yourself here. I know your brothers are working for the freight company, so I would imagine they’re bringing in plenty of money. Of course, you had money to start with. Your family was probably the most wealthy on the train.”

“Well, we’ve had enough to see us through, but we certainly aren’t wealthy,” Dianne said, not wishing to waste time discussing financial issues with the woman. “Come along and I’ll take you to Mama. By the way, how did you find us?”

“I asked around. The postmaster knew where you’d gone, so he told me. I haven’t had time to get away until now. Too much to do since Percy’s been sick.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Mr. Showalter is ill. I hope it isn’t serious,” Dianne said, knocking on the open door of her mother’s bedroom. “Mama, I’ve brought you a visitor. Look here, it’s Mrs. Showalter.”

Her mother actually opened her eyes. “She’s here?”

Dianne nodded. “Here, let me help you to sit up.”

“Nonsense,” Griselda said. “I can see to her. Go about your business.”

Dianne hated being dismissed, but at the same time she needed to see to the animals. “I’ll be out back tending the livestock if you need me,” she told Griselda.

The woman made no reply to her, instead going immediately to Susannah and hoisting her up, plumping the pillow behind her and chattering on in her usual manner.

“Well, you certainly look worse than the last time I saw you,” Griselda began. “I swear you’re just bones. Doesn’t that girl feed you? I should have thought to bring you some broth. A strong chicken broth would soon set you right as rain.”

Dianne ignored the comments and hurried to check the chickens on the back porch. It was chilly out there, but the hens were still laying, and that was all that counted. Zane had suggested she stack the crates of food and firewood around the chickens in order to insulate them just a bit more. They seemed quite content with the arrangement, and although Dianne had the unpleasant job of cleaning up after them, the porch made a decent coop. After giving the hens feed and water, Dianne hurried to pull on her outdoor things.

Outside, the snow was coming down heavier than ever and the wind had picked up. The skies had turned leaden gray and across the valley she couldn’t even see town because of the snow and low clouds.

She worked to break the ice in the watering trough, a thankless, endless job that had to be done at least twice a day. If she didn’t stay on top of it, the ice froze several inches deep and made it impossible to break without the heavy sledge.

Dianne forked hay into the manger, then checked on the milk cow and Dolly. Thankfully her brothers had taken their horses and oxen. The freight company paid the boys a handsome sum for the use of their team and wagon. It gave them a nice extra bit of money. It also meant that Dianne didn’t have to worry about their feed and shelter.

Dolly whinnied softly and nuzzled Dianne’s hand looking for treats. “Sorry, girl, I didn’t bring you a thing,” Dianne whispered against her ear. She stroked the mare’s mane and gently hugged her neck. “You’re my only friend in all of Montana Territory.”

The snow blinded Dianne as she made her way back to the house. She figured it would be smart for Griselda to leave quickly or otherwise she might lose her way. She went into the bedroom, where the woman was talking softly to her mother.

“Mrs. Showalter, the snow is turning into a blizzard, I fear. You should probably head back home before visibility is impossible.”

Griselda looked at Dianne and then, with a curt nod, got to her feet. “The girl is probably right.”

“Mama, I’m going to fetch some water and heat it for tea. Mrs. Showalter, I’ll get your things.”

Dianne thought the woman might make some snide comment as was her way, but Griselda turned back to her mother instead. “Susannah, I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. I’ll come again to visit.”

“The Indians are everywhere,” her mother muttered incoherently. “They’ve taken my children, you know. I have to find them. I have to find my babies.”

Griselda bid her good-bye, then followed Dianne into the front room. “Has she been like this for long?”

“Just since Uncle Bram refused to take us to his cabin and showed up here with his Indian wife.”

“What! That’s positively scandalous. Why would the man choose an Indian over his own kin?” She allowed Dianne to help her into her coat as she continued. “No wonder your mother has gone all addlepated. Are you giving her anything to help?”

“She’s still taking laudanum. The doctor figured it would keep her calm.”

Griselda nodded. “That’s exactly what I would have done.”

Dianne bit back a comment that perhaps her mother wouldn’t be having delusions of Indians at all if she weren’t taking the medicine. “I’m sure she enjoyed your visit. I hope you’ll come back to see her.” And in truth, Dianne meant every word. It would be nice to have Griselda come and relieve Dianne long enough to allow her to go into town and shop.

“I’ll see myself out. You go about your business.”

“I could walk part of the way with you,” Dianne suggested, hoping she wouldn’t take her up on the offer.

“No, I’m just fine. I’ve been making my way all over this place. I don’t need anyone to hold my hand.”

Dianne didn’t wish to further offend the woman, so instead she picked up her pail and headed outside. She shook her head sadly as she remembered her mother’s comments. Dianne longed for the days when her mother’s mind was clear and wondered if her sanity would ever return. Dianne wondered, too, what she would do if her mother remained in her stupor.

“Maybe it’s just the laudanum,” she told herself as she struggled to get the pump working. “Maybe once the baby comes, she won’t be sad anymore—she’ll want to face life and live for the sake of the infant.” But Dianne wasn’t sure she could take hope even in that idea. Her mother didn’t seem strong enough to sit up in bed without help, much less take care of a child.

When the pail was finally full, Dianne trudged back through the snow to the cabin. She was grateful to have the chores done and to know she’d given it her best. If the cow or Dolly suffered, it wouldn’t be because Dianne hadn’t tried to keep them safe.

She entered the mud porch, shivering from the icy wind that pelted her back. Closing the door, she put the pail down and shed her coat and boots. She hung her heavy wool bonnet by the back door next to the coat. Zane had thoughtfully driven pegs to allow for just such purposes. It made it much easier for Dianne when folks left their muddy things on the porch rather than traipsed through the house. It would also be easier to clean up melted snow from this room than following paths across the cabin.

That thought brought Griselda to mind. The woman had tracked a good amount of snow into the house. Dianne remembered seeing the prints the heavy woman left as she made her way to the bedroom. She sighed. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to just mop the entire house since the floor would already be wet.

Dianne took the water to the stove and put it on the back to warm. She turned to judge the job at hand and noticed that the front door stood wide open. Snow had already begun to accumulate in the threshold.

“How strange.” She brushed the snow out with her broom, then secured the door and latched it tight. The room was very cold and, spying her mother’s open door, Dianne figured she’d better take in another blanket lest she catch a chill.