The Coming Storm (32 page)

“That’s what’s hard about being up here. We’ve only been here for a year and a half, but it’s hard getting word from home. I don’t hear from my ma but maybe once or twice a year.” She shook her head. “Gets pretty lonely out here.”

“It can, that’s for sure.”

“There’s not another woman around my place to even talk to. God hasn’t seen fit to bless us with babies, so I don’t even have that comfort.”

Dianne felt sorry for the woman. “The Diamond V’s not that far and we have several women there, but . . .” She fell silent, wondering how she could explain that she wouldn’t tolerate prejudice. She decided rather than make it personal, she’d speak of it in a more general way. “Some people have no tolerance for folks who aren’t white. My aunt, as you mentioned, is part Blackfoot, but she also had a white father. One of my dear friends is a former slave.”

“A slave? Truly?” Maggie asked.

Dianne smiled. “Truly. Faith is dearer to me than most. She’s been a good friend through the years, and I wouldn’t trade anything for the friendship we share.”

“Well, I’ll be. I never thought about a white person being able to be friends with a black. Never figured they’d have anything in common.”

“Have you ever known a black person?” Dianne asked gently.

“No,” the older woman said, shaking her head, “I’ve never known one personally. Heard they were strange—practice black magic and put curses on white folks.” She looked rather embarrassed to have mentioned that and added, “But like I said, I’ve never experienced it firsthand.”

Dianne smiled again. It seemed Maggie was trying to be sociable and tolerant, in spite of her beliefs. “A lot of what you’ve heard is stories told out of ignorance. We’re all Christian folks at the Diamond V—well, most of us. Either way, we wouldn’t tolerate black magic. You should come by sometime and get to know Faith. I find that worries about such things are easily dealt with when folks give themselves a chance to familiarize themselves with what they don’t understand.”

“We aren’t that far,” Maggie said, crossing her arms thoughtfully. “I’ll have to see if Whitson can spare the time. Of course, it would have to be later, in the summer. We don’t have near the critters you do to care for, but we’ll have our hands full. It’s just us and the two hired men.”

“Why don’t you come around the Fourth of July? We always enjoy a grand celebration. You could bring your hired men and stay a day or two. We have plenty of room to put you up, and you’d have a real chance then to get to know some of the folks at the ranch. We’ve also got a blacksmith and shop, so if you needed some smithy work done, Malachi would be happy to work it in.”

Maggie smiled and met Dianne’s eyes with a steady gaze. “I’d like that. I’d like that a great deal. I’d like to meet your friend too. I think in a country like this, a person ought not to turn her nose up at friendship. I’ll talk to Whitson before we leave and let you know what he says.”

“We also have church every Sunday.”

“With a real preacher?” Maggie questioned.

“Yes. Reverend Hammond gives a powerful sermon. His wife, Charity, is good to lead the singing and to listen to the troubles of those around her. I know you’d enjoy meeting her.”

“Is she . . . well . . . not that it matters,” Maggie stammered. “I just wondered if she used to be a slave too.”

Dianne grinned. “No. She’s just as white as you and I, but she thinks the color of a person’s skin ought not to matter. After all, the Bible says God doesn’t look on man’s outward appearance but at the heart.”

“Do tell. Isn’t that a wonder?” Maggie said, seeming genuinely enthralled. “Well, I’m gonna tell Whitson about this. I just know he’ll be interested to hear it all.”

It was a beginning, Dianne thought. At least the woman hadn’t run off in the other direction. Everything comes by little steps, Dianne reasoned as she turned her attention back to the men and their games.

With roundup over and the herd headed to summer range, Dianne thought the ranch had never looked more welcoming. She rode with the other hands, confident on her faithful Dolly instead of a more rambunctious horse. She loved the way the valley and mountains had started to green up. The garden plot to the back of the barn had already been worked up. Dianne couldn’t help but notice the size had doubled from just a few years past.

Plans for finishing the house started churning in her head. She would see to it that Koko’s wing was finished off first and then start on her own. Koko had mentioned wanting some delicate print material to make curtains for Susannah’s room. Dianne would have to make a list and then go to town and see what could be had. For her own room she thought maybe something in a dark green damask would look nice at the windows.

“I’ll take your horse for you, Miz Dianne,” Gabe said as they halted near the corral fence.

“Thanks. I think all I want is a good hot bath and plenty of soap. I’ve got half of Montana to wash off,” Dianne said, mindless of talking about such a delicate matter as a lady’s bath.

Gabe nodded. “I figure to take me a dip in the river. It’ll be cold, but it’ll feel good.”

Dianne much preferred her idea of cleaning up to Gabe’s. She knew, however, a lot of the cowhands would follow suit. It saved time from having to heat water, and several of the boys were headed into town, where they’d probably have a nice hot bath and shave before enjoying whatever entertainment could be had.

Making her way to the house, Dianne pulled off her brown hat and smacked it against her side several times to rid it of all the dust. No doubt it would take a heap more than that, she thought. Even her mouth tasted gritty from the trail ride. No wonder so many of the boys spit. She laughed at the thought of taking up the bad habit.

She caught her reflection in one of the windows as she made her way to the back door. “What a sight,” she moaned. She looked as though she’d been years on the trail instead of just a couple of weeks. Her hair was mostly matted against her head, with stray strands falling in disorder down the sides.

She hung up her hat and coat on the back porch, then checked her boots so as not to drag in mud or manure. She looked forward to seeing Koko and checking in on Faith, but the bath had to come first. She wouldn’t have imposed herself on anyone in this state. She had just started for the back stairs when someone called out.

“You been wallowing in a mud pit?”

She looked up in surprise to find Takes Many Horses. Somehow the man always had a way of turning up when he was least expected. Dianne put her hands on her hips. “Very funny. I’ll have you know I’ve been out on the roundup. Something you could help with if you chose to stay around and make yourself useful.”

He laughed. “I’ve been busy.”

Dianne wanted only to dismiss the man and head to her room, but he seemed so happy, it was almost contagious.

“What have you been busy with?” she asked in spite of herself.

“I’ve had my own roundup, you could say.”

Dianne eyed him curiously, cocking her head to one side and narrowing her gaze. “And just what have you been rounding up?”

“Something you lost.” His grin broadened and he winked. “Something you’ll want to have back.”

Dianne strained to think of what he could possibly be talking about. She had lost a fine pair of riding gloves, but she seriously doubted he had any knowledge of that.

“I don’t know what you could possibly be talking about.”

Takes Many Horses took hold of her arm. “Then come see for yourself.”

He pulled her through the kitchen and past the dining room and sitting room until they stood in the front entryway. “There,” he said, pointing toward the front sitting room.

Dianne gazed into the small room and saw nothing amiss. “What are you talking about?”

Dianne looked around the warrior and froze in place. Cole stepped out from the doorway that led to the large gathering room. The look on his face was one she would remember until her dying day. There was such joy—such hope in that expression.

“Cole.” Her voice barely croaked the word.

He stepped forward and Dianne did likewise. “I thought you were dead,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I thought so too.”

She reached up to touch his face. He was warm . . . alive. A sob caught in her throat as she reached up to take hold of him. “I . . . oh . . . Cole.” She fell into his arms, feeling the despair of long months fade away.

They embraced, holding each other as if they would never again allow anything to separate them. Dianne felt her heart pounding in her ears, blocking out all sound.
He’s here! He’s here!

Her thoughts tumbled over each other.
What happened to keep him so long? How did Koko’s brother find him?

Does he still love me?

CHAPTER 24

E
VERYONE REJOICED AT
C
OLE’S RETURN.
A
VERY PREGNANT
Faith insisted on creating a celebration supper, and they all pelted Cole and Takes Many Horses with questions while enjoying her fine fare.

“How did you recognize Cole?” Koko asked her brother as dessert was served.

As the conversation swirled around her, Dianne wondered what Cole had endured at the hands of the Sioux. Had his encounter with the Indians added that new harder look to his face—the loss of his boyish charm? Of course, Cole had always been on the serious side, she recalled. He’d always seemed angry when they were coming west on the wagon train. But even then, despite the anger, there’d been a gentleness to him. Just as there was now.

“It seems to me,” Koko was saying, “Cole passed into true manhood on this journey.”

“There’s always one event in the life of a man that changes everything,” Gus said knowingly.

Dianne could scarcely eat for all the excitement, but the warm apple pie sent a marvelous aroma into the air, making her instantly agree to the piece Faith offered. Still, she drew Takes Many Horses back to Koko’s original question. “But how did you find Cole? How did you recognize him?”

“When I returned from hunting,” he began, “the council told me of this white man they had found. They knew he’d been taken by the Sioux, because the buffalo robe had Sioux markings. He had been seriously wounded, and his injuries were not healing properly. He had a high fever and was near death when a hunting party found him. They asked me to speak to him because they wanted to know who he was and why the Sioux had kept him alive.”

“So why had they kept you alive?” Gus asked, completely caught up in Cole’s story.

Cole shrugged. “I’m still not sure; it certainly wasn’t their usual way. They took four or five of us from the wagon train. At least two died, and I don’t know what happened to the others. I was so sick while with the Sioux, I don’t remember a great deal. They treated me decent enough. I suppose if I had to guess, they were planning to trade me, just like the Blackfoot thought to do.”

“Is that why you were so delayed in returning Cole to us?” Dianne asked.

Takes Many Horses met her eyes. His expression seemed almost pained, but he quickly covered it by looking back to his dessert. Dianne wondered what was going on inside his head but decided against questioning him here in front of the others.

“Yes, our people planned to trade him. They were working on negotiating with the army, explaining that they’d found a wounded white man of some importance. Of course, they didn’t know if the man was really important or not, but they were very impressed with Cole because he carried a book with him and in it he’d written a great deal. They’d seen important men with these kinds of books in the past and figured he might be someone who could help us.”

“They were always good to me,” Cole added. He sat next to Dianne and slipped his hand in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. “They kept me under guard but fed me well and treated my wounds. I have no complaints, except that they kept me so long.”

Takes Many Horses shrugged. “I tried to get them to release you. They wouldn’t hear me. They were convinced that because they had the attention of the white seizers, they would make their trade for our holy man.”

“What happened?” Dianne asked. She felt so blessed to have Cole back, but it all seemed so unreal. She had pretty much convinced herself that Cole was dead, and then just as she was beginning to accept his death, here he came back into her life.

“I’m not sure, but apparently the soldiers got tired of negotiating. They killed two of our men, then sent the third man back to explain that they were coming to wipe out the village and take any whites they found. It was then that I was finally able to convince the leaders to let Cole go.”

“But you didn’t answer our question,” Koko interjected.

“How did you know it was Cole? I don’t remember you ever meeting him.”

“I hadn’t met him before, but I knew the name. I’ve talked to Dianne enough about him.” Dianne felt her cheeks grow warm as Takes Many Horses stared directly at her. His expression almost challenged her to deny his words, but she had no desire to refute his statement.

“Then,” he continued, turning his attention back to his apple pie, “I read Cole’s journal. If I had doubts about remembering his name correctly, they were all put aside with that. He spoke of his life here at the Diamond V and of . . . Dianne.”