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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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Dianne shook her head and smoothed back her son’s sandy colored hair. “No. Jamie’s papa lives in heaven now with God.”

Susannah grew impatient. “Come on, Luke Selby.” She always called the boys by their first and last name when particularly irritated with them.

Dianne fought to keep from smiling as Koko reprimanded her daughter. “You mustn’t be so intolerant with Luke. He’s just worried about your brother.”

“Oh, don’t worry about Jamie. He says our uncle is coming to take him away. I’ll be glad when he goes, ’cause he’s always pulling my hair.”

Koko’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you,” Susannah said, looking to the ground.

“Well, you’d best tell me now.”

The girl looked up at Dianne. “He said you stole our ranch and he was going to get Takes Many Horses to help him get it back, but first he would have to go away and learn to live like the Blackfoot so he’d be strong.”

“I cannot believe this,” Koko said, shaking her head. “And right under my nose. I can only imagine how long the boy has been planning this little adventure.”

“Don’t be angry at him,” Dianne said softly. “He’s growing up—faster than any of us realized. He’s hurt and naturally so—the only thing his father could leave behind for him can’t be his. Maybe he’ll tell the whole story to Cole.”

“If not, he’ll share it with me tonight,” Koko said, her tone firm.

“Did you steal the ranch?” Luke asked Dianne, his eyes wide with wonder.

“No, your mother did no such thing,” Koko declared before Dianne could answer. “She saved the ranch. She saved it for all of us.”

Luke smiled and wrapped his arms around his mother’s skirt. “I knew you wouldn’t do something wrong.”

Dianne picked him up into her arms, realizing as she did it she wouldn’t be able to lift the five-year-old much longer. “Luke, we all make mistakes—do wrong things. I’m not perfect; no one on earth is. But your papa’s right. We need to pray and ask God to help us in everything we do. But we especially need to pray that He’ll guide us so that we make the right choices and decisions.”

“I’ll pray,” Luke agreed. “I’ll pray twice, ’cause Jamie said he won’t pray. So I’ll pray for him.”

Dianne smiled and tousled her son’s hair. “I think that would be wonderful.”

“I do too,” Koko said. “I think even Jamie would be proud to know that you care about him so much.”

“He’s my family,” Luke said soberly. “And Papa says we always stand by family—no matter what.”

Dianne met her aunt’s gaze. “No matter what.”

Morgan readied his horse for the trip to the northern glacier regions. He’d heard marvelous accounts of the glorious countryside in the northwestern parts of the territory. It seemed like a good place to make a new start.

“You sure picked a pretty day to head out,” Ardith said as she came up behind Morgan in the barn.

“Looks like it’ll stay nice. Hopefully I’ll have an easy way of it.” He turned. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, and you?”

Morgan gave her a sad smile. “I’m as fine as you are.”

Ardith grinned and looked to the ground. “Then you have my pity.”

“We’re a pair, eh?”

“Guess misery really does love company.”

Morgan reached out and squeezed her arm. “I promise to get better, if you do.”

Ardith looked up. “I want to get better. I want to be happy again.”

“I do too.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to figure out why these things happen,” she said softly. “It sure doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t seem like the kind of thing a loving God would allow. But just when I think I have God all figured out, I come to realize how little I know.”

Morgan nodded. “I’ve never thought I had God figured out—never was really sure where to actually find God. But maybe that’s where I need to head next. Maybe that’s what I really need to explore.”

“It’s gotten me through a lot of painful moments,” Ardith said with a smile. “Even now. I know without Him, I’d lose my mind and probably my life.”

“Then I’m grateful He’s given you strength, because I’d hate to lose you a second time.”

“You will be careful, won’t you?”

Morgan took up the horse’s reins and led him from the stall. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll pray for you.”

He met her eyes and knew the sincerity of her heart. “You do that, little sister. You pray hard, and maybe things will actually come around right.”

CHAPTER
23

July 1881

D
IANNE LISTENED TO THE MUSIC OF THE FIDDLE AND GUITARS
. An impromptu band had been formed to play as the community danced in celebration of the Fourth of July. She easily recognized the “Virginia Reel,” and since many citizens in these parts were former Confederates, the crowd seemed quite pleased with the selection.

Madison had grown to a town of fifty-some people, but when the surrounding ranchers and their families and crews joined in, the place swelled to at least two hundred. The shops had been open earlier in the day to accommodate shoppers who might have driven in from twenty miles away. Now as the supper tables were set with a bevy of food choices, all brought to share freely by each of the families, people were splitting their time between food and dance.

The entire party might have been more pleasurable for Dianne had Portia not been so intricately involved. Chester Lawrence garnered more respect and attention than did the mayor or sheriff. It was clear that everyone knew who really ran the town.

Dianne shook her head as she watched Portia Lawrence flaunt her position to the other ranchers’ wives. Portia seemed out of place no matter how hard she attempted to fit in. Even her gown was all wrong for the celebration. Most of the women wore simple calico or gingham dresses. A few wore dresses with more braiding or lace, but none were as fancy as Portia’s. Dressed in burgundy silk, Portia fairly glimmered in the fading sunlight.

The gown was stylish, showing off Portia’s feminine curves. The sleeves were fitted to the wrist and trimmed in smocking, lace, and ribbons. True to the very latest of
Harper’s Bazaar
fashions, she had smocking across the bustle and a gathered cascade of material that fell from the bustle to the floor. This, too, was trimmed in delicate gathers of lace and ribbon.

She smiled and batted her eyelashes, flirting with every man who passed her way. She wore her hair up in a fanciful style of curls and twists and topped this with an elaborate hat of silk ribbons and feathers. For effect, Portia would, from time to time, turn her head first one way and then the next in order to bounce her curls. She reminded Dianne of a sixteen-year-old rather than a woman pushing forty.

Still, Dianne had to admit she felt dowdy compared to Portia. She looked down at her own new gown of dusty rose. The high neckline was trimmed in black cording and the bodice was pleated, but otherwise the creation was simple. Dianne had made the dress herself, knowing exactly what would be useful in the future. Had she ever had a gown just for fun? A frivolous dress with frippery like the one Portia wore?

What good would it do? I can hardly work a ranch and keep a horse while wearing silk
. She crossed her arms and tried not to feel jealous. It was silly to be jealous of a woman like Portia—a murderess.

“You look awfully deep in thought,” Cole said as he came up beside her.

Dianne turned to smile. All day she’d wanted to share some news with Cole and now seemed like a good time. “I am deep in thought. I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me while we dance.” Cole took her by the arm and pulled her to the street, where other couples were enjoying a waltz. It wasn’t anything like the refined ballrooms back East; of this, Dianne was certain.

Cole whirled her into the crowd of people, and Dianne waited to share her news until they’d caught the pace of the music.

“So what did you want to tell me?”

Dianne smiled and met her husband’s curious eyes expression. “We’re going to have another baby.”

Cole’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

She nodded, enjoying his delight. “Truly.”

Cole pulled her closer and kissed her soundly. “How long have you known?” he asked as they stumbled the steps.

“I’ve only been sure for about the last day or so. Do you suppose we might have a daughter this time?” she asked, cocking her head to one side. “Aren’t three boys enough for now?”

Cole threw back his head and laughed heartily. “You may certainly have a daughter now if that’s what you desire. Don’t you like my boys?”

“I like our boys plenty. I just think it would be nice to have a little girl.”

“I wouldn’t mind the idea. Are you feeling all right?”

“Physically, I feel fine. I’m worried about the problems we’re dealing with on the ranch—”

“That’s not for you to worry over. You just stay healthy and keep things running smoothly at the house. I’ll deal with the ranch and the Lawrences and any problems they might try to bring our way.”

Dianne felt a sense of comfort in Cole’s confidence, while at The same time she wanted to be consulted in the matter of the ranch deed and the legal problems Lawrence was trying to stir up. She wanted to help make the choices and decisions related to something as important as the possibility of losing the ranch.

“Isn’t that Zane?” Cole asked as he maneuvered Dianne to better see. “It’s either him or Morgan.”

Dianne followed his gaze. “It’s Zane, all right. I wonder if something is wrong. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see him anytime soon. His business keeps him too busy for pleasure visits.”

They left the dancers and moved through the crowd to where Zane stood. Dianne hugged her brother tightly and then pulled back to ask, “What are you doing here?”

Zane smiled. “Hello to you too.”

Dianne drew him away from the crowd. Once she and Cole were alone with Zane, she pursued answers. “Is something wrong?”

“Does something need to be wrong just because I show up for a Fourth of July celebration?”

Dianne shook her head. “I suppose not, but you have to admit it is a surprise. Did something go wrong with the freight business?”

“You mean other than the railroad breathing down my neck?” Zane replied. “Right now I have a lot of long-haul business, but when the rails connect to Utah, I’m going to lose out in a mighty way.”

“I’ve read that they plan to be done with the railroad sometime this year,” Cole threw out. “What are your plans then?”

Zane shrugged. “I’ll keep working. Local businesses will still need someone to haul for them. If that doesn’t work, I’ll get out of Butte and go elsewhere. Madison’s growing; maybe I could earn a living freighting here.”

“That’s always possible, but if you work here, you’ll no doubt be as controlled by Chester Lawrence as the other store owners are.”

“Well, I’m just glad I got you paid back,” he said. “If the business fails, I won’t worry about being in debt. I’m free and clear, and I’m doing all right for myself. I’m sure the Lord will keep an eye on me.” He glanced up the street and then behind him before adding, “I had a letter from Angelina.”

Dianne could hardly believe her ears. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? What did she say?”

Zane smiled. “They’re both doing well. Tre … Nicolaas works in a logging camp and Angelina has been cooking and sewing for some of the men. They sound happy.”

“What a relief,” Dianne said with a sigh. She looked to Cole, who was smiling. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that you knew this would be the result all along.”

“I didn’t know what the outcome would be,” Cole replied, “but I had faith that God would make it all good. I’m just blessed to hear that they’re happy.”

They walked back toward the party and Zane asked, “Where are the boys?”

“They’re back at the ranch. We figured they were a little young to be out late,” Cole answered. “Ardith and Levi stayed behind with Koko. They’re supposed to be having their own celebration tonight.”

“Not that Jamie feels like celebrating American independence. He feels completely torn between worlds,” Dianne said. “He loves his mother and father, but he also loves the excitement of the world he sees through his uncle, Takes Many Horses.”

“Surely he knows the life of an Indian can hold no future for him.”

Dianne nodded at her brother’s comment. “But he continues to feel torn.”

“Poor boy,” Zane said. “It’s hard enough just being that age and trying to figure out what you want out of life and how you plan to make your living.”

Dianne saw Chester and Portia approaching. They could scarcely avoid them without making an obvious choice to move away. “I wonder what they want.”

Cole looked up and shrugged. “Hard to tell. I guess we’ll have to hear them out and then we’ll know.”

“Evening, Selby,” Chester Lawrence said as they neared and stopped. “Mrs. Selby.” He tipped his hat with a nod.

“Mr. Lawrence.” Dianne’s greeting lacked emotion. She narrowed her eyes and stared at Portia but said nothing.

“It’s been a good party,” Cole said, his voice low and certain.

“Chester planned it all out,” Portia said, smiling. “He always knows exactly what to do.”

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