I should just sneak out and make my own way to Butte. Leave before he even realizes what has happened .
She wasn’t sure where such defiance had come from. Maybe it was the tension and the worry about Zane’s well-being. Maybe it was the fear that had built during Cole’s delayed return. Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant at all. It weighed her down like a heavy horse blanket.
Dianne was still angry after putting the boys to bed. Micah had sensed her rage while nursing. It made them both uncomfortable, but no matter how Dianne tried to relax and release her tension, she couldn’t seem to manage. Micah finally fell into a restful sleep, but the experience left Dianne feeling a deep sense of guilt.
Luke slept peacefully in the corner of the room, but Dianne had not been her usual self with the boy and he’d fussed and cried until she’d snapped at him to be quiet. It was a stranger who cared for her children that night. Dianne couldn’t begin to deal with the range of emotions within her.
It wasn’t only that Cole had refused her the trip; it was everything. Everything that had come to haunt her over the last year. The love she’d once felt for the land was tainted with fear and worry. The peace she’d known in her heart was as distant as the place where God seemed to be hiding from her.
When the door opened and Cole walked in, Dianne forced her gaze to the floor. She rocked in silence as he began to undress and readied himself for bed. They’d not spoken since their disagreement. Dianne had refused to come to supper, something she now regretted, and Cole hadn’t come in search of her.
“I was hoping you might be cooled down by now, but I see you’re still angry,” he said softly.
Dianne looked up and watched him as he folded his shirt over the back of a chair. “I’m more hurt than angry.”
“Hurt?” He seemed genuinely puzzled by this.
“Yes, hurt. You don’t care about my feelings. You’ve become bossy and critical, demanding and dictatorial. You used to care about how I felt—about what I wanted. Now it’s all about having things your way.”
Cole looked at her as if she’d announced that the ranch had been sold. “Is that what you really think?”
“What else should I think? It seems lately you haven’t really tried to understand my needs. You just tell me what to do and where to go. I didn’t think our life together would be like this.”
“My only objective these last few months was to keep you safe. Surely you can see that.”
Dianne got up from the chair and paced to the window. “I would have liked it better had you discussed things with me.”
“I’m your husband. It’s my duty to take care of you—provide for you. Yet it seems that every time I try to take that job seriously, you rear up like an unbroken colt.”
Dianne hated the truth in his words. She knew he was right, but there was no way she could admit it. “If you loved me—if you really cared about my feelings—you would let me go with you to Butte.”
“Is that what it’s going to take to put things right? Give you your way?” he asked without emotion.
Dianne knew she’d drawn a line. Looking up to meet her husband’s sober expression, she said, “It’s not about having my way. It’s about your caring more for my feelings than having the final say.”
“And that’s what you believe of me? That I’ve said no just to boss you around—put you in your place?”
She’d taken the argument too far to back down now. Even Though she knew it wasn’t the truth, Dianne couldn’t help but nod.
Cole stared at her for several moments. Dianne thought she perceived disappointment in his eyes, but her heart was hardened and pride wouldn’t let her soften it.
“All right,” he finally said. “You can go with me to Butte.”
The victory was hollow. Dianne opened her mouth to thank him, but Cole raised his hand. “Don’t say anything more. I don’t think I could bear it.”
He picked up his shirt and headed for the door. “We’ll leave at dawn.”
Trenton wasn’t happy that his sister was heading to Butte with Cole, but the tension between the two was enough to keep him silent. He didn’t know what was wrong between the couple, but it grieved him. Dianne and Cole were like the opposite sides of a coin, and he couldn’t imagine one being much good without the other. In fact, he’d often been encouraged to hope that there might one day be true love for him, in watching his sister with Cole. But just as such thoughts filled his head, Trenton’s heart reminded him that his past would probably forestall any chance of marriage and family. He would have to content himself with his sister’s family—in being a good uncle.
With that in mind, he promised to care for the ranch and look out for the women and children, even as Dianne had instructed Ardith on Micah and Luke’s care. Such reasonability seemed a far cry from his lawless days.
I wonder what ol’ Jerry would think of me now, Trenton considered as thoughts of the outlaw gang came to mind. He pushed the images aside. They were gone—a thing of the past. They couldn’t hurt him now…. Well, at least he hoped they couldn’t.
Cole and Dianne weren’t gone even three days when Trenton’s relative peace was disrupted by Portia Langford. Somehow he’d known she would be his greatest source of frustration.
“I want to go to Bozeman,” she announced.
“No.” Trenton continued looking at the week-old paper in front of him, hoping the annoying woman would disappear.
“You can’t tell me no. I have a right to go to Bozeman. Cole said my father is returning there this week. I want to be there.”
Trenton put the paper down and stared up into the haughty exotic face. There was no denying that Portia Langford was a beauty. Fortunately for Trenton, he knew her beauty ran no deeper than her skin. “No one has time to ride you over to Bozeman. If you want to take a horse and make your own way, be my guest.” He lifted the paper again and tried to ignore her.
“You really ought to treat me with more respect.”
“I really ought to ask my sister to send you packing.”
“For a man with a troubled past—one that no one knows much about,” Portia said sarcastically, “I wouldn’t be inclined to make enemies.”
Trenton felt a chill run up his spine. He lowered the paper once again and put it aside. “What are you talking about?”
Portia simpered, her brows rising ever so slightly. “My, my. Now we plan to be civilized.”
“I’m not planning to be anything at all—especially civilized. Not when it comes to you.”
“I suppose one couldn’t expect good manners from a bank robber.”
Trenton jumped to his feet and crossed the room to where Portia stood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’d advise you to be cautious.”
“Oh, don’t play games with me, Mr. Chadwick. I had you investigated long ago. I know all about your past. About the gambling and the banks—the Wilson gang you ran with. I know that and much, much more.”
Trenton held his anger in check. He kept his gaze fixed on her, knowing he was making her uncomfortable in his silence. How she’d managed to learn so much about his past was a mystery. She said she’d had him investigated, but how much did she really know? And did she have any proof that could bring his past crashing down around his future?
“I don’t think you’ll be troubling me,” Portia said, her voice not sounding quite as sure as it had only moments earlier.
“And I don’t think you’ll be troubling me,” Trenton said in a menacing tone. “Not if you don’t want to have to keep looking over your shoulder at every turn.” There wasn’t much to back his threat up with except for the determination to keep his family from knowing the truth. “You’ve overplayed your hand, Mrs. Langford. You can’t possibly think that I’d let you share this kind of nonsense with my family.”
She paled. It was ever so slight, but Trenton knew he’d made his point. There was no time for further discussion, however. A knock at the front door left them both realizing the
y’d been too engrossed to even hear a rider approach.
Trenton went to the door and opened it. Portia was right behind him.
“Where’s Selby?” the man demanded.
Trenton was taken aback at the anger in his tone. “I beg your pardon?”
“Cole Selby. Where is he?”
Trenton studied the stocky man for a moment. “He’s not here right now. Maybe I can help you. I’m Dianne Selby’s brother. I’m overseeing the ranch in their absence.”
“Are you also overseeing the thievery of cattle by your boys?”
“It’s Mr. Chester Lawrence, isn’t it?” Portia asked as she pressed closer. “I believe we’ve met, but it’s been a long, long while.”
Lawrence nodded. “I remember meeting you, ma’am. My complaint ain’t with you.”
“Mr. Lawrence, I have no idea who you are or what your trouble is all about,” Trenton said, standing his ground.
“My trouble is that Diamond V hands are stealing my cattle. You may think it fine to round up cattle that don’t belong to you, but I won’t stand for it.”
“If any of your cattle have managed to get in with our herd, you’re welcome to cut them out. We’ll be moving to winter pasture before long, and it’ll be easy enough to recognize your brand.”
“I’m sure you’ve already rebranded them,” the man replied sarcastically. “I’m telling you, I’ll see you all hanged as cattle thieves if I don’t get my stock back today. I’m heading into Bozeman, and I’ll come back with a posse if need be.”
Portia put her hand on Mr. Lawrence’s arm. “I’m so pleased you remember me.” She batted her lashes and smiled coyly—just like she used to do with Ned. “You’re heading to Bozeman, did you say?”
Trenton’s blood boiled. He wasn’t sure who he was madder at—Portia for reminding him of the past or Lawrence for his lies.
Chester immediately became captivated with the woman, giving Trenton time to think. Portia continued her flirtatious actions, leisurely touching Chester’s forearm and then his chest.
“I thought you were about the most handsome man I’d ever laid eyes on when we met in town. I do hope you’ll consider setting aside your argument with the Selbys—at least long enough for us to get better acquainted. I’m just dying for a little ride over to Bozeman, and no one here has time to take me. My dear papa is due back at the fort, and I do so long to see him. Perhaps you would consider taking me?”
“Well, I might be able to help you out,” Lawrence said, his tone considerably softened. He turned to face Trenton, though his voice lost a bit of its angry edge. “This isn’t over. Your boys had better watch themselves.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe Indians or no-accounts are running off with your herd? The Diamond V has plenty of its own cattle. We don’t need yours,” Trenton answered with certainty.
“You can manage this later,” Portia said in an almost whisper as she leaned closer to Lawrence. “He’ll still be here next week.” She smiled, seducing the man with her eyes. Trenton had seen it all before. “Now … about getting me to Bozeman.”
“I’ll … I’ll be back,” Lawrence said, stumbling over his words. It was clear he had been completely drawn in by Portia’s spell.
For the moment, Trenton couldn’t have cared less about the couple. Let them go for their ride—let them do whatever they would do. What he wouldn’t stand for were threats. Not from Portia. And certainly not from some no-account rancher.
“Who was that?” Levi asked as he came up behind Trenton.
“Chester Lawrence. One of the area ranchers. Says we’re stealing his cattle.”
Levi shook his head. “Takes all kinds, I guess.”
Trenton closed the door. “I guess so. Portia’s trying to talk him into taking her to Bozeman. I hope she succeeds.”
“It wouldn’t hurt my feelings none either,” Levi agreed. “She keeps tryin’ to stir up trouble among the boys. Always flirting and causing them to argue amongst themselves. I know she has no interest in any of them, but I think she enjoys the fight that comes after she gets them all mad at each other.”
“That’s her way. She’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. She stood here cozying up to Mr. Lawrence, and she only met him once. She wanted to get to Bozeman, however, so she didn’t care what it took. That’s what bothers me most about the woman. She’ll Do anything to get her own way.” Thoughts of her threats still rang in his ears.
“Oh, by the way, Billy Joe and Gabe are back from Virginia City. They’ve brought this mail.” Levi handed a stack of letters to Trenton. “I’ve got to get back out there and help with the supplies.” Levi exited out the front door, leaving it open just long enough for Trenton to spy Portia still clinging to Mr. Lawrence. She appeared to be talking fast and furious.
Trenton shuffled through the letters in his hands. Most were addressed to Dianne, but one, surprisingly enough, was addressed to him. It appeared to be from R. E. Langford, Ned’s father.
Amazed at this, Trenton quickly put the other letters aside and opened the missive. Scanning the two-page letter, Trenton felt uneasiness wash over him.
“ ‘I have reason to believe,”’ Trenton read aloud very slowly, “ ‘that Ned’s wife played a hand in his death. Dare I say the word murder?”’
Trenton looked up, his teeth clenched in anger. “I knew it. I knew she was up to no good.”
He continued reading. “ ‘I would be very grateful if you could help to gather evidence that might see Portia convicted. I will pay you well… .”’
The rest of the letter was immaterial. Trenton burned at the thought that his fears for Ned had been well founded. If Ned’s own father believed Portia responsible … Trenton intended to see her pay for her deeds.
“I just knew you’d understand,” Portia told Chester. “These Selbys are so used to being in charge that they don’t have much concern for the needs of other people.”
“Why is Selby gone?”
Portia was already bored with the conversation, but she sensed this man could very well be the answer to all of her problems. “He and Dianne have gone to bring back her brother. The man was a soldier and was injured in a recent Indian battle.”
“How long will he be gone?”
“That I can’t say,” Portia answered honestly. “I suppose it will depend on the weather and Indians.”
“Look, how about I promise to take you to Bozeman by the end of the week? I need to tend to some matters that won’t wait.”
Portia grinned as she turned to go back into the house.
Chester returned a smile that was sly and confident.
CHAPTER 10
BUTTE WAS RAPIDLY BECOMING AN IMPRESSIVE TOWN. Already the potential for growth was being realized daily in the form of new mining interests and businesses. Dianne had no idea there was such prosperity to be had in Montana. It was by far and away the biggest city she’d been to in some time.
“We’re supposed to meet the judge in ten minutes,” Cole said matter-of-factly. He put his pocket watch away and turned to pick up his hat.
Dianne grimaced at his cold tone. He’d barely spoken to her the entire trip. “I’m ready,” she said, adjusting her hat of plum and black jets. It nicely matched her traveling suit. “And Zane will join us for supper, right?” She tried hard to sound lighthearted and carefree. She hoped to draw Cole out of his stupor without resorting to an out-and-out apology.
“That’s what his note said.”
“I wish he’d stayed here to meet us instead of gallivanting off with some stranger.”
“Guess he wasn’t as worried about seeing you as you were about seeing him.” Cole stared at her with a stoic expression.
“That’s hardly fair. Zane didn’t know I’d be here.” Dianne picked up her bag, trying hard to ignore her frustration. “I suppose I’ll see him soon enough.”
They headed to their appointment with Judge Adams. The man had been recommended to Cole in Virginia City as someone who might be abl
e to influence officials and see Koko and the children left to the sanctity of their home. Dianne could only pray that the man would be willing to help; after all, prevailing thoughts were not kind when it came to the Indians.
After a short walk, they arrived at exactly eleven o’clock and were ushered into a plush office where a balding man of some girth sat behind a massive mahogany desk.
A tall, thin man announced their arrival, and Cole stepped forward and said, “Judge Adams, I’m Cole Selby, and this is my wife.”
The man struggled to his feet and extended his short pudgy hand. “Glad to meet you, Selby. What can I do for you?”
Dianne wasn’t used to being ignored, nor of having business brought so quickly to the forefront. Nevertheless, she took a seat when Cole motioned her to do so. No sense making a scene when this man might very well be able to help them.
“We have a delicate situation,” Cole began, his voice firm and authoritative. “I have a ranch in the Madison Valley south of old Gallatin City.” Dianne bristled at the way he left her out of the conversation but held her tongue. She fixed her attention to the rows of books lined in a stately manner on fine oak shelves behind the judge. It was a wonder that anyone could ever read so many books.
The judge nodded, catching Dianne’s attention. “I see. Take a seat and explain the circumstance that has brought you here.” Both men sat and Judge Adams waved to the man who’d shown them into the office. “Take care of those papers, Simmons. I’ll speak with you later.”
The man backed out from the office and closed the doors. The judge motioned to Cole. “Please continue.”
“The ranch was inherited by my wife upon her uncle’s death. Her uncle’s wife and children were not able to inherit, due to their being part Blackfoot, so he made my wife a partner in the ranch before his death.”
“Wise choice. So what seems to be the problem? Is someone questioning the validity of this transfer?”
To Dream Anew Page 10
