To Dream Anew

by Tracie Peterson

  The silence fell between them for several minutes as Takes Many Horses appeared to wrestle with his emotions. Finally he spoke. “I’ll consider this more in prayer. I know what you’re saying rings of the truth.”

  Dianne was delighted when Cole asked if she’d like to accompany him on a short ride to enjoy the afternoon. A fresh breeze was blowing across the valley and the temperatures had cooled quite pleasurably. Soon the leaves would begin to change colors and autumn would be upon them with frosty mornings and chilly days.

  “How are you feeling?” Cole asked.

  “I feel fine. No morning sickness or any problems.”

  “I’m glad. I worried about you while I was gone.”

  “With exception to the army intrusion, we’ve been operating well. God has truly been looking out for us all along. The cellar wasn’t big enough to fit anyone else, so it was a blessing that Ardith had taken Winona and accompanied Levi to Bozeman. We didn’t have to worry about finding a place for them to hide.”

  “That was a blessing.”

  “I’ve tried to be cheerful for Koko’s sake, but I keep thinking about the fact that Portia knows very well that she’s here. If she should figure out that this will cause us grief, I know she’ll do what she can to spread the news.”

  “Maybe she’ll forget. The Lord could cause her to do just that. We have to have faith that God is protecting His own.” They rode down through a stand of trees as the wind picked up. The aspen leaves quaked as they passed alongside.

  Dianne decided now was as good a time as any to bring up the subject of Mara Lawrence. “I wanted to talk to you about Chester Lawrence’s daughter.”

  Cole looked at her in surprise. “Why?”

  “Because she’s been helpful to us, at great risk to herself.”

  “We didn’t ask her to risk her standing with her father and betray him. I don’t approve of what she did, in spite of the way it helped us.”

  Dianne frowned. “God provided for us through Mara.”

  “The provision was always with us in Koko. We just pridefully thought we’d take care of matters on our own.”

  “It was to save her feelings, Cole. We weren’t being prideful.”

  He stopped his horse and shook his head. “We were wrong not to talk to her about it. After all, she’s the true owner.”

  Dianne tried not to let his comments anger her. “Mara needs help. I’d like to invite her to come here to live.”

  “I don’t know how old she is, but my guess is that she’s plenty under the legal age. There’s no possible chance of Chester allowing her to come here, so we can’t very well impose that on him.”

  “But she’s unhappy,” Dianne protested. “Besides, this would be the perfect solution.”

  “To what? Getting back at Chester for stealing our calves? He steals a few calves and steers, so you want to steal his daughter?”

  Dianne detested that Cole could so easily see her desire for revenge in having Mara come to the ranch. She couldn’t deny that this was part of her reasoning. She wanted to hurt Chester—hurt him for the death of Whit and Maggie, for Portia and her escapades, and for trying to steal the ranch from right under her nose. When Mara had come to her in such misery, Dianne had immediately begun to plan how she might use the situation to help them all.

  “I can see my words have touched on the truth,” Cole said softly. “How would you feel if someone tried the same thing with Luke or one of the others?”

  Dianne swallowed hard. “I know what you’re saying, but something has to be done. Chester Lawrence continues his underhanded schemes, and no one is doing anything to stop him.”

  “We’re trying. We’re trying to gather enough proof to have the law intercede, but Chester is smart. Probably too smart. He covers his tracks well, and he has most people bullied or paid off so that no one will give testimony against him.”

  “I’m tired of doing things by the law,” Dianne said frankly. “He’s not abiding by the law, so maybe we should meet him where he’s at and deal him the same kind of hand.”

  “Listen to yourself. You, the one who used to be so strong in your faith. You, who helped me find my way back to God. You want to break the law in order to exact revenge on the Lawrences? What happened to revenge belonging to God?”

  Dianne grew angry. “You just don’t want to deal with it because you’re afraid of him. I can see it in your face.”

  Cole narrowed his eyes. “I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid of what I’m capable of if I let my anger rule me—like you’re doing.”

  “I’m not—”

  He held up his hand. “No more. I want no more of this. I’d like you to go back to the house now. I want to be alone for a while.”

  Dianne started to say something, then decided against it. She’d not seen Cole this angry with her in the whole time of their marriage. Had she truly overstepped her bounds? As she rode back to the house, she came to the sinking realization that she’d practically called him a coward.

  I shouldn’t have said that, she told herself. Then she reconsidered. At least I certainly didn’t mean it. But I thought it might stir him to take more aggressive action .

  But where could that more aggressive action take them? Physical violence? Death? Were these prices she was willing to pay? She reined back on Daisy and turned to see Cole disappear over the ridge. She wanted to go after him and apologize but knew he was in no mood to hear her now.

  “What have I done?” she murmured.

  Portia sat in her window seat and watched dark clouds roll in from the south. Someone had mentioned a dry thunderstorm heading their way—one that had already set small forests on fire near Ennis.

  A fire might be the perfect solution, she mused. A strike of lightning in just the right place could end all of my worries. A fire could spread quickly and destroy the ranches along the way. Particularly the Diamond V . It seemed like such a simple solution. No one could ever tell whether the fire was intentionally set or just the result of the storm’s fury.

  “Portia! Portia!”

  It was Chester. His frantic search for her could only mean that he’d managed to mislay something important—again.

  “I think he’s getting too old for me,” she muttered as she got to her feet.

  “Where are you, woman?”

  She opened her bedroom door and went down the hall to the top of the stairs. Chester was already barreling up them, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “I’m right here. What’s the matter?”

  “Do you know where my papers are—the ones I have on the Diamond V?”

  Portia had seen the papers several weeks ago but hadn’t thought about them since. “No. I don’t.”

  Chester was fairly frothing at the mouth. “They’re missing. Missing! I need those papers, and I need them now.”

  “They have to be here,” Portia replied, already bored with the matter. She stifled a yawn. “I’m not feeling very good. I think I’ll go lie down.”

  He grabbed her arm and held her tight, causing pain to travel up to her elbow. When he was like this he reminded her of Angus, her second husband.

  “You have to help me find those papers. There’s no time for sleeping. This is vital to our plan.”

  Portia felt her expression harden. “You’re hurting me. Release me at once.”

  “Shut up, woman. Do you hear me? Those papers are more important than anything else. If they get into the wrong hands, the Selbys will be able to prove their legal right to the Diamond V.”

  Portia was unwavering in her stand. “I’ll walk out that front door and leave you without another word unless you let go of me. No man treats me this way and gets away with it.”

  “Are you threatening me, Portia?” Chester asked, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t forget, I know things about you that you’d rather not be told.”

  Portia laughed and yanked her arm away from his hold. “You don’t know anything about me at all. You only suppose you do. Try to expose
me, and it won’t bode well for you or your murdering offspring.” Chester paled. “Yes, that’s right. Jerrod and Roy would look awfully good to me dangling from the end of a rope, but I seriously doubt you’d be very happy about it.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  Portia rubbed her sore arm. “Just this: never think to boss me around or threaten me. I’ll do as I will and you’ll live with it. Or you won’t. The choice is yours.”

  CHAPTER 26

  DAYS AFTER THEIR HARSH WORDS, DIANNE APPROACHED Cole in order to apologize. She didn’t want him to believe she thought him a coward. But at the same time, she needed him to understand why she felt so angry.

  It would help if I understood that anger, Dianne thought as she made her way to the barn. Cole and Luke were going to ride out to build a training corral, which was part of a new plan devised by Levi. They were to assemble several training corrals away from the main yard and closer to the bunkhouse. There was to be a new foaling shed and other equipment that would allow for them to double their production of horses for the army.

  “Cole?” Dianne questioned as she entered the barn. The warm, musty smell of horses and straw filled her senses.

  “We’re saddling up,” came his curt reply.

  Dianne approached. “Luke, why don’t you walk your pony outside? I need to talk to Papa for a minute.”

  “Can I ride him out?” Luke asked, his voice full of excitement.

  “You know I don’t want you doing that,” Cole answered as he secured his horse’s cinch. “Too many things to spook your pony—too closed in.”

  “All right, Papa,” Luke answered, sounding dejected.

  “But if you’ll walk him out and stand there patiently, we’ll race down to the corral. How about that?”

  Luke’s face lit up. “I’ll bet I can beat you this time.”

  “Maybe you can,” Cole said, laughing.

  Dianne waited until Luke had gone from the barn before she turned her attention on Cole. “I know you’re busy, but I tried to talk to you about this before breakfast and you didn’t seem to have time.”

  “What is there to discuss? You think I’m a coward. You think I would risk my family’s well-being because I’m afraid to deal with Lawrence.”

  “I spoke out of anger. I didn’t mean what I said,” Dianne said, moving closer to where Cole stood. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

  “You might be sorry for it, but I think down deep inside, you feel that way. You think that I’m keeping peace because I don’t have the courage to fight, but nothing could be further from the truth.” He turned to look at her, and the hardness of his expression left Dianne feeling uneasy.

  “You have no idea,” Cole said, turning away to untie his horse, “how hard it is to keep the peace. You can’t even imagine how many times I’ve had to sit down and talk things out with Ben just to keep my rage under control.” His words surprised Dianne. She truly didn’t have any idea that her husband felt this way.

  “I’m trying to trust the Lord to guide me, Dianne, but you seem to want emotion to do the leading.” He drew his gelding along with him and paused as he came up even with Dianne. “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you in how I’ve handled this situation, but truth be told, you’ve disappointed me in how you’ve handled it.”

  With that he moved out and left Dianne to stand alone contemplating his words. She felt like a small child, reprimanded for having stolen cookies. There was a time when his words might have made her angry, but this time, all she felt was shame.

  Takes Many Horses looked once again at his new clothes. They felt foreign to him after a lifetime of dressing as a Blackfoot. The trousers in particular were uncomfortable—as were the heavy boots. Living as a white man would be no easy task.

  He came into the formal dining room and waited for the reaction. Everyone stopped talking and looked up to fix his gaze on the transformation. Takes Many Horses smiled.

  “I suppose I owe you all an explanation.”

  “You’ve cut your hair!” Koko declared.

  He reached up to touch his shortly cropped hair. “Yes. I figured it was necessary.”

  “But why? You are Blackfoot,” Jamie protested. “You look like a white man now.”

  “Exactly,” Takes Many Horses said. “I borrowed clothes from Cole and boots from Levi.”

  “I think you look quite good,” Dianne said as she brought in a tureen of soup.

  “You’ve betrayed the Real People,” Jamie said in a barely audible voice.

  “I’ve betrayed no one. I’ve been reasoning with everything that has happened—with the things that are bound to happen if I continue as I have in the past. It’s time for a change. I will live as white and stay here on the ranch to help my sister.”

  “What good news,” Koko said, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Well, I’m not!” Jamie slammed his napkin onto the table and jumped up from his chair. “You are disgusting to me.” He ran from the room before Koko could even respond to his outrage.

  Koko started to get up from her chair, but Takes Many Horses waved her off. “I’ll go after him. It’s time his uncle George dealt with such matters. After all, I’m the one who fed his passion for the ways of our people.”

  Koko sat back down. “All right. As you wish … George.”

  He left the surprised dinner party and went after his nephew. “George,” he murmured to himself. It would be hard to get used to the name. His sister often called him by it, but very few people knew him by it.

  It was easy to see that the boy had gone to the barn. The tracks weren’t hard to miss, but even more so, George could see that the door was open. Pushing it back even more, he entered and called to the boy.

  “Jamie. If you feel I’ve been dishonorable, the least you can do is be honorable and face me.”

  “I don’t want to face you,” the boy declared.

  “I know you’re disappointed in me, but I only ask you to talk this out like a man.”

  Jamie emerged from behind a pile of hay. “I’m here, but I don’t know what good it will do.”

  George sat down on the barn floor and motioned Jamie to do likewise. “White men don’t sit on the ground,” Jamie said snidely.

  “Of course they do. Have you never been to a roundup—never on a cattle drive? When white men camp out in the wilderness, they do so much the way the Blackfoot or Sioux might.”

  Jamie held his ground, staring down at his uncle. “You were proud of the Blackfoot—now you’re ashamed.”

  “Not at all. I was and always will be proud of my Blackfoot heritage. I will never forget that I am part of that world. But I won’t live as they live now.”

  Jamie frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “They live like caged animals, unable to properly hunt or fend for themselves. The reservation doesn’t have enough room or game to sustain the people. The United States government tries to help, but often the meat they send is rancid by the time it reaches our people. The government sends blankets that make our people sick with small pox, measles, mumps, and other diseases. Our people suffer greatly.”

  “But at least they do not betray who they are.”

  “And neither do I. Rather, I don’t want to see that life for your mother and sister. Do you?”

  Jamie seemed perplexed. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because if I don’t change my ways and live as white, they very well might end up living on the reservation. The army won’t always be put off. They will eventually come back. Someone will tell of your living here, and you’ll be rounded up like the cattle in the spring. You might well survive such a thing because you are a man, but your mother and sister would probably die.”

  Jamie dropped to the ground to sit opposite his uncle. “Do you truly think this is the only way? Why couldn’t we go north with you—north to Canada?”

  “That isn’t any hope for us. Look at Sitting Bull. His people were dying from starvation i
n Canada. They were sickly and hungry. Even reservation life sounded better than wasting away in the frozen wilderness.”

  “But it seems wrong to just give up.”

  George shrugged. “I don’t see it so much as giving up. I see it as closing one book to open another. You read well—I know, because your mother told me. You must finish one book before you open another.”

  “I can read more than one book at a time,” Jamie argued.

  “Ah, but not at the same time. You must focus on one only, is that not true?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “I feel it is the same for me. I focused on being a Blackfoot for most of my life. Now I will open a new book and focus on being white.”

  “Whites will never accept us,” Jamie said sadly.

  “Perhaps they won’t, but we will not provoke them by acting or dressing in ways that frighten them.”

  “Frighten them?” Jamie asked. “You think they hate us because we frighten them?”

  “Fear is a powerful tool,” George said, meeting his nephew’s intense gaze. “Fear causes people to act in ways they might not otherwise have chosen. Indians have long grieved the white man. Whether because we actually did something to deserve their feelings or not, they have heard stories since first coming to America.”

  “Both sides have their stories. You told me this was true.”

  “Yes, but both sides did not win this battle. Only the whites won.”

  “So we are supposed to just forget we are Blackfoot? Even though the whites who recognize our heritage won’t let us forget?” Jamie questioned.

  “We never forget who we are—that we are a part of the Real People,” George said softly. “But just as the Real People found it necessary to adapt their habits in order to survive over many centuries, we must adapt in order to live into the next century. In time, the laws will change and the white will no longer fear the Indian.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I have to. To imagine any other outcome is too discouraging. Besides, look what happened with the black men. They were once slaves and now they are free. It’s possible that a day will come when Indians will live free as well.”