“But what about you, Sam?”
The man shrugged and put the pipe to his mouth. “My life pretty much ceased for me the day my Mary died. Portia can’t hurt me anymore.”
Trenton found that Sam’s words weighed heavy on his heart. Portia was a danger—perhaps more than he’d realized. The thing that worried him most about this black widow spider of a woman was that he’d inadvertently brought her home to his family. She was a threat to every living creature—every person Trenton loved more than life.
“You wanted to see me?” Cole said, pulling on his heavy coat as he came into the barn.
Trenton had sent for Cole, knowing now was the time to confess his past. “I need to tell you some things. Some things about me and what I did before coming here.”
Cole frowned, his brows knitting together. “You know that doesn’t matter.”
“I know you and Dianne can probably forgive me, but there’s a new danger from my past, and I can’t risk not letting you know about it before it threatens everyone I love.”
April 1880
D
IANNE SAT ATOP A FEISTY FOUR-YEAR-OLD BUCKSKIN
named Daisy and surveyed the ranch from her favorite hilltop perch. Dolly, the mother of Daisy, had to be put down the year before after a bad fall. A bear had spooked Dolly, causing her to lose her footing on a rocky stretch. At least that was the best they could figure when they found the mare. The loss of her good friend had left Dianne depressed for days.
Daisy was a fine animal with all of Dolly’s sweetness and a fiery spirit that came from a sire named Lightning and, of course, her youth. But for all her wonderful characteristics, Daisy wasn’t Dolly, and the death left Dianne feeling rather misplaced.
There had been a great many changes in the years since Dianne had come to the Diamond V. One of the newest was the small community that had come together only about five miles away. They called it Madison, and already it showed signs of being a solid little town.
To Chester Lawrence’s credit, the town had been his idea. His drive helped to establish a trading post of sorts, and the rest began to fall into place. Soon there was a post office—although it was located in the corner of the general store—and a bank, and most recently a church and school were added, both run by Ben and Charity.
Charity had even sent word that Dr. Bufford had set up a small office in his new home there. It wasn’t much, she’d said, but it was a regular doctor’s office nevertheless. The thought made Dianne smile, for Dr. Bufford had vowed never again to hang his shingle, but now there he was. Montana had a way of changing a person’s mind—she knew that firsthand.
“We’re getting civilized for sure, aren’t we, Daisy?”
Even the ranch was changing. They had expanded many times over, improving and enlarging the herd, developing new techniques and advances. The horses were some of the finest bred anywhere, and the army always needed new mounts. This business, which had started out completely as an afterthought—almost a hobby, really—was making them some very solid money.
Added to this, Cole had invested in some of the mining interests in Butte, and those were paying off handsomely. They were wealthy. At least as much as she imagined anyone to ever be. There was never any issue of food or clothing. Everyone’s needs were fully met. To her, that was real wealth.
Dianne spotted a couple of wagons being loaded with goods from Malachi’s blacksmith shop. He and Faith were moving their family to Madison, and while Dianne knew it was only five miles away, she was devastated at the loss of yet another friend. First Charity had gone, and now Faith. They were her mentors—her mother figures—and now they were gone or would be soon.
“It’s silly, I know,” she told Daisy, “they aren’t that far. A good five-mile ride would do us both good. But it isn’t the same. I used to be able to just walk across the yard and there they both were. Close and easily placed for my convenience.” She chuckled. “How selfish I’ve become.”
She was actually very happy for Faith. Malachi would own his own business now. He would be an important man in the community with more work than he’d possibly be able to keep up with. Already Faith was encouraging him to hire on a couple of assistants. Faith would no longer cook for the men of the Diamond V, and that would make it necessary to hire a new cook. Dianne knew Cole was already tending to that situation, so she tried not to concern herself with it.
Ever since their misunderstanding in Butte, Dianne had felt a deep desire to trust her husband and to let him make the decisions for the ranch. Cole, to his credit, however, was better about coming to her for advice. He often talked to her about the details of choices that presented themselves. He also listened to her comments and thoughts, and this made Dianne feel more loved and cared about than almost anything else.
Life was good. She had a wonderful life with her husband and children. God had given them three healthy boys, with John Ephraim Selby being born only a year earlier. She’d been hoping for a daughter, but another son was no problem. He was named for his two grandfathers, although Cole’s father had always gone by his middle name rather than by John. Baby John was a goodnatured child—nothing like Micah, whose colicky stomach had made him miserable for months after birth. John had even taken his first steps last month. Her family was growing fast.
Dianne couldn’t imagine a better life, despite the problems and complications. Despite good friends moving away. God had given her much—her cup truly was running over.
Returning to the house, Dianne was surprised to find that Koko’s brother had once again managed to make an appearance. He didn’t look as haggard or half starved as he had on the last visit. When she rode up to the barn, Takes Many Horses was in a deep discussion with his nephew. They looked up and waved as she approached.
“This is indeed a surprise,” she said, sliding off Daisy.
“This isn’t that little mare we threatened to take away from you so many years ago when you earned your name, Stands Tall Woman,” Takes Many Horses said as he took hold of the reins.
“No, this is Dolly’s offspring, Daisy. Dolly had to be put down last year after she fell,” Dianne said, giving the mare a pat on the neck. “But she’s the spitting image of Dolly with her buckskin coat and black mane and tail. She’s a little more temperamental, but in time I think she’ll be very dependable.”
“I’ll put her up for you,” Jamie said, taking the reins from his uncle. “Maybe Uncle will tell you what we’ve been talking about and you can help me.” The boy looked to Dianne hopefully.
“It all depends on what you’ve been discussing,” Dianne said with a grin. “I know how you can be. Nevertheless, thank you for tending Daisy.”
Jamie grinned in return, his dark brown eyes fairly glowing. He looked so much like Bram that it sometimes caught Dianne off guard.
With the boy gone, Dianne turned to Takes Many Horses. It wouldn’t be long before he reached his fortieth year. Maybe another two years at the most, Dianne thought. He was a handsome man with definite Indian features, tempered by his white heritage.
“I’ve been to the reservation,” he said softly. “It’s a horrible life.”
“I’ve heard stories. I’d hoped they weren’t true.”
“Probably even worse than you’ve heard.”
Dianne shook her head. “The government promised so many things. Food, clothing, shelter. I don’t understand why these things aren’t being delivered.”
“They come,” Takes Many Horses said, his eyes darkening in anger. “They come in the form of maggoty meat and diseased blankets and clothes. The Blackfoot have suffered from small pox, measles, mumps, and half a dozen other ailments. There are no animals to hunt—at least not like there were before. The men go off the reservation to bring in meat and then find themselves in trouble for their actions. The meat that comes from the government is never any good. I think they trade the good stuff to the white settlers and take their spoiled meat for the Indians.”
Dianne couldn’t imagine that being true but left well enough alone. “What of you? How is it that you are here?”
“I sneak on the reservation and sneak back off,” Takes Many Horses said with a shrug. “I’ve never registered. It’s as if they don’t even know I exist. But I know they remember me—I know they’re still looking for me and my friends.”
“At least things have calmed down. Your friends won’t revolt, will they? Will there be more killings and uprisings?”
“My people are tired and sick. They are half starved. How would they fight?”
Dianne heard the bitterness in his voice. “What can we do to help?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“There has to be something. We could buy blankets that aren’t diseased. We could buy shoes and coats, send food. I could talk to Cole; perhaps we could send cattle to help them with their beef herds. You did say at one time that they were trying their hand at ranching.”
“It would be taken from them. You don’t know how this works. The government agents would claim some part of their agreement broken and steal away the animals as payment. There’s nothing you can do to fix this or make it right.”
“I thought I heard your voice, George,” Koko said as she came from the back of the house. “I was just planting part of the garden.” She hugged him close and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s been so long. I’ve missed you, my brother.”
Dianne was amazed at the lack of emotion between the siblings. They seemed to take their lengthy separations in stride, whereas Dianne felt desperate at times to see her brothers.
“I’ve missed you too. That’s why I’m here. Sometimes it’s just worth the risk to see my family and loved ones. I spoke with Jamie. He’s very restless. He’s asked me to take him with me when I go.”
“He’s nearly thirteen,” Koko said stiffly. “Nearly thirteen and has no father to raise him and teach him to be a man. You could take that job—if you would only choose to stay here and do so.”
Takes Many Horses shook his head. “Ranch life is not for me.”
“Neither is reservation life,” Dianne threw out.
“True, because both are nothing more than prisons of different makings. I wasn’t created to live within boundaries. Why, I even see some of the farmers and ranchers putting up fencing. This isn’t the way of my people.”
“The way of your people—of our ancestors—is gone,” Koko declared. “You will be gone, too, unless you learn to bend your will. Jamie needs you here. You could do much with the boy.”
“What would I teach him? The unfairness of white laws that refuse him the right to inherit his father’s ranch? Would I teach him how the Indians are savages, no better than animals to be caged? But because we’re part white and can cut our hair and dress appropriately, we might be able to fool folks into believing we are as good as they are?”
“We are just as good,” Koko replied.
“Yes, you are,” Dianne agreed. “You know you’re welcome here. Koko is absolutely right. Jamie needs you. Cole can’t keep up with him. He has his own three boys to look after.”
Takes Many Horses smiled. “Three boys, eh? I would have given you ten sons by now.”
Dianne blushed and looked away. The man always had a way of saying something that would get the subject off of him and onto someone else.
“I’m only asking help with one son,” Koko said seriously. “Your own nephew. Flesh and blood. How can you stand before any of our people and tell them that you denied your own family’s need?”
At this he was taken aback, his discomfort evident. “Jamie wasn’t allowed to take over his father’s land. He’s not allowed to take over the land of his mother’s people either. In both cases the white government has seen to that. What would you suggest I teach him? Bitterness? Rage? Because, sister, those are the things I know best.” His face contorted as he continued.
“I am an outlaw. I am hunted and will one day be found and killed. My blood will fall on my own hands. My will and decisions will have brought me to that place. Do you want that for Jamie as well? Should I teach him the same things?”
“Of course not,” Koko whispered. His words had clearly upset her.
“Our people are dying, Koko. They are dying from starvation and exposure. They have nothing. They are given nothing. I can’t hope for you to understand the bleakness of it—or the horror that those people are facing. You are lucky to have been taken as wife to Bram. He was a good man. I loved him as a brother. You have good men here even now. Men who do not turn away from this place because a
squaw
and her children live here.” He spoke the word squaw with such hatred that Dianne actually cringed.
“I am glad you will never have to face the reservation,” Takes Many Horses said, shaking his head. “Because it is nothing but a place to await death.”
“Mama, I want to go with Uncle,” Jamie said as he joined them again. “I’m a man now and I want to travel the land and learn the ways of the Blackfoot.”
“You are white,” Koko said frankly. “While I cherish my mother’s people and have even taught you children much about the Blackfoot, I will not have you dishonor your father by choosing their ways over his.”
“I don’t like the way our Blackfoot people are treated,” Jamie declared. “You’ve also told me stories about those things. Maybe I can help.”