The Coming Storm

by Tracie Peterson

  Dianne helped Faith serve Zane his meal, then sat down to join her brother. “What have you . . . uh . . . been . . . I mean where have you . . . been? It’s been quite a while since we . . . saw you,” she began tentatively.

  “I know. Looks like the ranch has changed quite a bit. How are you?” Zane asked, then focused his attention on the food.

  “I’ve been good. And you?” Dianne asked nonchalantly. Zane shrugged. “Guess I could be better.”

  “What causes you to say that?” she asked, hoping he’d confide his ordeal to her.

  He shook his head. “It’s not important. Guess you must be just about busting a button waiting for Cole to get back. Uncle Bram told me he’s due before long.”

  Dianne knew her opportunity to hear the truth from him had passed. “I am anxious for Cole’s return. Should be soon— about three months, I figure.”

  “Will you two marry right away?”

  “That’s the plan,” she replied.

  “If they’ll wait until fall, we might even have the new house built,” Bram declared as he brought a cup of coffee to the table and joined the conversation. “I figure we’ll have a big enough front room that you could have the wedding there if you wanted.”

  “I’d hate to wait that long,” Dianne said. “It’s already been long enough.”

  “It was honorable of him to stay and help his pa,” Bram said after a long sip of coffee. “You’ve got a good man there, Dianne. No need to rush it. He’ll keep his word and do what he’s got to do, and in turn that will make him a better person.”

  Dianne looked up and nodded, but when she met her uncle’s gaze, she froze. He held her eyes, speaking to her in the silence of the moment. He knew. He knew she’d overheard the conversation in the barn. Dianne wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. There was something in his look that made it clear she should say nothing, however.

  She nodded just slightly—just enough to let him know she understood.

  Bram smiled. “Well, maybe Zane will be able to get leave in the fall to come celebrate the festivities. Summer’s not the best time for getting away from the army, you know.”

  Dianne nodded. “Maybe we will wait until fall. If it helps you, Zane.”

  He shrugged again. “Not sure what will help me.”

  Koko emerged from the bedroom with Susannah all bound up in a cradleboard. The baby seemed to love being wrapped up securely. “Welcome back, Zane. It’s so good to see you,” Koko said as she approached Zane. “You haven’t met your new cousin. This is Susannah. We named her after your mother.”

  He looked up to Koko and paled. It didn’t immediately register in Dianne’s mind what was wrong, but when she took a good look at her aunt, it became clear. The woman was dressed in native fashion, wearing a long deerskin dress, her hair bound in two braids. Added to that, baby Susannah definitely looked the part of a Pikuni infant in her bindings. Dianne cringed.

  Zane swallowed hard and looked away. “She’s pretty,” he said, seeming to gasp for air. He looked to Bram and got to his feet. “I need to be on my way.” He glanced back at Dianne, who by now had stood as well.

  “Zane, are you all right?”

  He met Dianne’s gaze and nodded. “I’m fine. I have to get back to the fort.”

  Dianne stood at the corral fence later that evening. The sun had set and the last hints of light were fading in the west. Concern for Zane plagued her thoughts.

  “I thought I might find you out here,” Bram said as he came up from behind her.

  Dianne turned at the sound of his voice. She didn’t even bother to try to hide what she knew. She desperately needed to talk to someone. “Why, Uncle Bram? Why did that attack have to take place? Why did Zane have to be a part of that?”

  Bram put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. “It’s always the whys that give us fits. I don’t have answers for you, darlin’. Men are men, and they will make their war. Sometimes the war seems just and honorable, but more times than not it’s simply a matter of one side wanting something the other side has. In the case of the Indian wars . . . well, the whites want the land. Settlers are restless to move west. I’ve heard talk of wagon trains that stretch out for miles on end—you’ve said before that your own wagon train was hundreds of wagons long.”

  “Yes, it was. And when you watched it move across the open plains, it was a sight to behold,” Dianne remembered.

  “Imagine being the Sioux or the Blackfoot and seeing that. Seeing their way of life suddenly intruded upon. I’m guilty of doing just that myself. Like most, I saw what I wanted and took it—no matter the cost to others.” He grew thoughtful. “Times are changing and bad times are coming. Probably more wars, more death. The tribes won’t just give up their land, and I can’t blame them. Look around you—it’s beautiful, vital, and full of everything a person needs to live. Why would you give that up without a fight?”

  “I guess I wouldn’t,” Dianne said, realizing how very much she loved this land. “Will Zane be all right?”

  “He’s seen bad things, Dianne. It won’t be easy, and I won’t lie to you or him and say that it will. But we all have to live with bad things—ugly things. Life isn’t always the beauty you see here . . . as well you know.”

  “I wanted to help him.”

  Bram shook his head. “You can’t. He has to make these decisions for himself. He’s made a good choice. He’s going back to face his superiors. Whatever happens, his conscience will be clear.”

  “Do you think he’ll quit the army?”

  They began walking back to the house. “I can’t say. I kind of doubt it. Zane knows that as bad as things were, the army needs good men to balance those who lead such massacres. Someday, Zane may well be the one upon whose shoulders it falls to lead such an attack. Maybe he’ll make a stand and maybe another destructive act will be avoided. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get involved in the politics of the country and get laws changed so that Koko and the children won’t have to live in fear of being rounded up and put on reservations.”

  “I hope he’ll be all right. I hope he knows how much we love him.”

  Bram squeezed her close. “He knows. That’s why he came here.”

  CHAPTER 5

  COLE SELBY GAZED UP TO THE NOON SUN AND WIPED HIS brow. This was his last day in Topeka. Tomorrow he’d rejoin Daniel Keefer and head home to Montana. It seemed like it’d been forever since he’d been under the big sky of that territory. He relished the feel of the dry mountain air and the heady scent of pine. He also longed to be in the arms of Dianne Chadwick.

  He thought of Dianne a great deal. Especially on days when he was out in the fields, like now. Working the land gave Cole plenty of time to contemplate his life and the memories of the woman he loved. It was because of her love that he was here. Here in Kansas, on his parents’ farm.

  Dianne’s love and faithfulness had helped Cole to set his heart right. He’d made his peace with God, and over the last year he’d grown in his understanding of God’s love and direction.

  Cole looked out across the newly planted field, back toward the small farmhouse his folks now called home. They were only a few miles outside of Topeka, where Cole’s two sisters lived with their husbands and families. Everyone was happily settled. Everyone but Cole.

  It’ll come soon enough, he told himself. But until he was back in Montana—back on the Vandyke ranch—with Dianne, Cole knew he wouldn’t be completely at peace.

  “Your ma’s got lunch almost ready!” Cole’s father called as he made his way across the black river-bottom dirt.

  “Field is finished. You ought to have a good crop of corn if the storms aren’t bad this year.”

  “And if the rains come and if the sun doesn’t get too hot and if the pests stay away,” Hallam said with a chuckle. “Lots of ifs in farming.”

  “Yep,” Cole agreed, “but you’ve done a good job with it. You’ve made a stand against nature, and I think you’re winning the battle.” He wiped his forehead
again, then tucked his handkerchief back in his pocket.

  The two men walked toward the house in silence, but in Cole’s heart he knew he needed to speak. With his departure so close, Cole wanted to assure himself, and his father, that all was well and forgiven. He knew his father understood his coming— knew that by staying on and helping his father establish the farm that Cole was showing his approval and love. But Cole also knew that words needed to be shared.

  “Before we go in,” he began as they reached the water pump, “I’d like to say something.”

  Hallam stopped and nodded. “I figured you might.”

  Cole pumped cold water from the well and washed up as he contemplated his words. It wasn’t the first time he’d considered what he might say. Many a night he’d lain in bed practicing a sort of speech he planned to give his father.

  Turning to his father, Cole drew a deep breath. “I came here to make my peace with you—you know that.”

  “Yes,” Hallam admitted. “You said as much when you came here. I’ve never wanted to push for more.”

  “Maybe you should have,” Cole said with a hint of smile. “We Selby men seem to be poor in communicating our problems.”

  “To be sure,” his father agreed.

  “Well, so much has happened to me . . . to change me. You know, too, that God managed to get ahold of me. That made a big difference. I was really angry with God for a long time. I felt like He must have hated me—otherwise why would He give me so much grief? I didn’t want to be close to a God who would allow innocent people to pay the price that rightfully belonged to the guilty.”

  Cole walked away from the pump and sat down on a small bench not far away. Hallam followed his son and leaned against an oak that shaded them both from the heat of the day.

  Pain-filled memories began to flood Cole’s mind. “When we went with the vigilantes that day so long ago, I had no desire to be a part of taking the law into my own hands. I agreed those robbers and murderers had to be stopped, but I felt like there had to be a better way. . . . Still, I went because I knew you expected it of me—that you would be shamed if I didn’t go.”

  “I should never have joined them,” Hallam admitted, “but I wanted very much to see justice done. A lot of folks were suffering at their hands.” He paused and kicked at the dirt. “I also wanted the respect of the townsfolk. Figured if I joined in ridding the land of such a plague as those highwaymen, then I’d finally be a man folks could look up to—that your ma could look up to.”

  Cole had always felt this was the reason for his father’s actions. Scorned by most, Hallam Selby had never fit in, no matter where they moved. He had a variety of skills but wasn’t really good at any one thing. He’d tried ranching and storekeeping, law enforcement and grave digging, but nothing truly suited the man. Then they went to Montana to look for gold, but even that proved to be a bust.

  “When we went out to deal with Carrie’s father,” Cole said, allowing himself to speak the name of the woman he’d once loved, “I knew there’d be trouble. I arranged for Carrie to receive a note from one of her friends in Virginia City. I calculated that if she went into town to see her friend, she’d be gone while we dealt with her pa. I wanted to keep her safe—I loved her and didn’t want anything to hurt her.”

  “It was going to hurt no matter what,” Hallam said thoughtfully. “We intended to hang her pa, and that’s what we did. We didn’t intend for her to die, but she’d always bear the scars of that moment.”

  Cole nodded. “But I figured I could make it better by marrying her and taking her away from the sorrow.”

  “I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry it was my bullet that killed her.”

  Cole remembered the scene as if it’d been yesterday. His beautiful Carrie had come back too soon and, desperate to save her father, had thrown herself into the midst of the vigilantes, only to be shot. Cole knew his father had not intentionally murdered Carrie, but it didn’t matter. It had still devastated him. Even now, he could remember holding her in his arms and feeling the life go out of her.

  “I know you’d take it back if you could,” Cole said softly. “It’s taken me a long time to get to the place where I can say that. Over six years, in fact.” He looked to his father and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Pa. I was just so angry and nothing made sense.”

  “I know that, boy. I knew it then. There hasn’t been a day gone by that I haven’t had to live with the memory of what happened. I’d give my life to undo what’s done.”

  Cole nodded. “I know you would. Dianne helped me see that. I guess I would never have known her had things not happened as they did. I never thought I’d love again, but Dianne is a very special woman.”

  “She sounds like a good woman too.”

  “She is. The very best. I’ve never met a woman with more determination.”

  “Unless it was your mother.”

  Cole smiled. “Yes, I suppose Dianne’s determination does remind me of Ma. She never seems to be defeated for long. It’s amazing to me. I’d like to have half her strength.”

  “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

  A silence fell between them as the two men eyed each other. Cole got to his feet and stood directly in front of his father. “I’m sorry for everything. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Son, I did that long ago when you asked for it the first time. I pray you’ve forgiven me as well.”

  Cole nodded. “Before I ever came here. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to speak it all out.”

  The men embraced and Cole felt that finally everything had been set right. “I’m glad,” Cole said, pulling away, “that we’ve had this year together. It’s been hard to be away from Montana, but I know it was the right thing to do.”

  “So now you’ll head out with the wagon train tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Daniel Keefer, the wagon master I worked for before, is leading a group out of Independence. I’m joining up with him just north of here. It’s a good way to earn some money and make my way back. Safety in numbers, you know, and now with the Indians warring almost constantly, these wagon trains are the only way to get across the country alive.”

  “I wish there were a better way for you. Maybe you could take the train,” his father suggested.

  “Too expensive. I wouldn’t begin to have the means.”

  His father reached inside his shirt and pulled out an envelope. “I was planning to give you this at lunch, but now’s just as good a time.” He handed it over to Cole and smiled. “It’s to help you get started in your new married life, but you could sure use it to buy a train ticket home.”

  Cole looked in the envelope and then raised his gaze back to his father. “There’s a good deal of money in here.”

  “A year’s wages,” his father replied. “I didn’t want you working for nothing, and since last year’s crop paid out so well, I just tucked this aside for you.”

  “I can’t take it, Pa. I didn’t help you so you’d feel obligated to pay me.”

  “I don’t feel obligated to pay you. It’s a gift. Just like this last year was for me—and for your ma.”

  Cole looked back at the cash and shook his head. “It doesn’t seem right.”

  “Well, obeying your pa is right,” Hallam said with a grin, “and I’m telling you to take it. Do with it as you will. If you wanna take the train home and get back to that little gal of yours all that much faster, then so be it. As I understand it, you can take the train to just around Salt Lake City. Then go north on the same trail that took us into Virginia City.”

  “I can’t let Daniel down, or I would do just that,” Cole said, regretting that his choice was already made. “But thank you, Pa. Thank you for this and everything else.”

  A peace settled over both men, evidenced by their smiles. “Let’s go eat,” Hallam said, pulling Cole alongside. “Your ma’s spent all morning putting together a great meal for your going away. Tonight a few folks from the church will come by to say their
farewells, but for lunch you belong just to us.”

  Cole smiled. It felt good to belong.

  The next morning, Cole loaded his saddlebags and readied his horse for the trip home. He was surprised when his mothercame out to the barn to say good-bye in private.

  “I made these for you,” she said, holding up a flour sack.“Oatmeal cookies. There’s enough here to last you quite a while.”

  Cole took the bag, noting the gray in his mother’s hair and the wrinkles around her eyes. She’d had a hard life, but now at least she seemed content. “Thanks, Ma. I doubt they’ll last that long if they’re as good as usual.”

  She smiled and looked down at her empty hands. “I’m glad for the time we’ve had. It couldn’t make up for the lost years, but I feel like I’ve finally been able to know you . . . to . . . well, to love you.” She looked up and met his gaze. There were tears in her eyes.

  “I know, Ma. I feel the same way. I can’t tell you what it’s meant to me, being here with you and Pa. I’ve missed Dianne,” he said with a grin, “and I’ve missed Montana, but I wouldn’t trade being here for all the gold in the territory.”

  “Will you marry right away?”

  “I hope so,” Cole said, securing the cookies with a string and tying them around the horn of his saddle. “I hope she hasn’t changed her mind, what with me taking all this extra time.”

  “If she’s the woman you say she is, she’ll be watching and waiting.”

  Cole reached out and touched his mother’s shoulder. They’d never been much for physical contact, but she seemed to relish the moment. “I’ll miss you, Ma. I hope you and Pa will come to visit us. You’ll always be welcome.”

  “Well, farms don’t run themselves, so I doubt it’ll be anytime soon,” she replied, a tinge of regret in her voice. “But you’ll be in our prayers, and I’ll write.”

  Cole nodded just as the rooster began crowing. “Looks like I’d best be on my way. I’ve got a good piece to ride before I catch up to Mr. Keefer.”