The Coming Storm

by Tracie Peterson

  “That’s why so many have died,” Takes Many Horses muttered, reaching over to retrieve Cole’s journal. He could die.

  Cole Selby was only words away from death.

  “Dianne is strong; she could survive the loss. She could live with his death,” Takes Many Horses said, still staring at the book.

  “But could I?”

  CHAPTER 16

  COLE WATCHED THE BLACKFOOT MEN SEATED ACROSS FROM him. He’d been called to the lodge of the tribal leader. Here he sat with five Blackfoot men, obvious leaders with the power to determine his future. The one who spoke English sat opposite Cole and seemed to watch him with intense interest.

  Cole was offered nitapi waksin—“real food,” or meat. There was a variety, including a succulent slice of buffalo tongue and a large portion of roasted elk. After they filled up on meat, they passed the kistapi waksin—the “nothing foods,” which as far as Cole could figure, was anything that wasn’t meat. When they’d finished eating, the old man who sat in the center prepared and lit a pipe. A lean younger man who sat next to the old man took the pipe and inhaled. He spoke solemnly after blowing smoke toward the roof of the tepee.

  “Oh, Above People, hear us now.”

  Cole made the words out and wondered at what sounded like a prayer.

  “Help us to make good choices. Help us, World Maker, to open our eyes. Pity us.” He took another long draw from the pipe and passed it down the row to be smoked from east to west.

  When they had finished, the old man cleaned out the bowl and put it to one side. Then he turned to his English translator, and they began to question Cole.

  “Where were you when you were attacked?”

  “We were west of Fort Fetterman, camped on Sage Creek,” Cole said, trying his best to remember. “I don’t remember much of anything except that a party of Sioux had been following us for several days.” He shrugged and added, “We thought they’d lose interest when we camped at the fort, but they continued following us when we moved out. I think we were only a day out—maybe two, I can’t remember. They attacked at first light, and before I knew it I had two arrows in my chest. I don’t remember what happened next. When I finally woke up, I was being dragged behind a horse on a travois.”

  The man translated for the elders. Cole watched the play of expression on the faces of the leaders as the story was relayed. The Blackfoot men were dressed in what looked to be their finest clothes. Some of their shirts were beaded and others bore weasel tails. Cole knew from stories he’d heard on the Diamond V that these were special shirts of some importance. Apparently their meeting with him was seen as an event of great significance.

  The men stopped talking amongst themselves, and then the interpreter turned to question Cole again. “Where were the Sioux taking you? Did they tell you why they had taken you with them?”

  Cole shook his head. He remembered vaguely that there had been other whites with him in the Sioux village. “I don’t know why they took us; it came as a surprise to me. Their care wasn’t as good as I’ve received here, but it wasn’t all that bad. They fed me and tended my wounds. The other whites died. I don’t know if they were killed by the Sioux or if they died from their wounds, but I felt that I had to escape.”

  “Where were you when you left their camp?”

  Cole shook his head. “I have no idea. We traveled north for some time—at least I think we did. We were camped along a river that ran east and west. There were mountains to the west. That’s really all I know.”

  The warrior relayed the information and a great discussion broke out amongst the men. Cole watched and waited, hoping that God would deliver him—praying the Blackfoot would find no fault with him.

  Again the conversation waned and the man with shiny black braids turned again to Cole. “Were they making plans for war?”

  Cole tried to think of any indication that would suggest such a thing. “I don’t think so. There were many women and children— old people too. They seemed more interested in surviving and continuing to move north. I didn’t see anything to indicate they were doing anything other than that. They weren’t digging in or preparing to fight there.”

  “But they allowed you to escape,” the man replied. “We found their empty camp. They moved out quickly, which was why they didn’t come after you.”

  “Where are we?” Cole braved the question.

  “In the territory you call Montana.”

  Cole perked up. At least he was in the right area. “I desire to go home. My home is on the Madison River in the southwestern region of this territory.”

  The man eyed him hard for a moment. Cole returned his gaze, wondering what the man was thinking. There was no time to ask, however, as a young boy came into the lodge, shouting. Cole understood enough of the boy’s excited declaration to know that soldiers were on their way. And their numbers were great.

  Dianne dealt with another Christmas coming and going without Cole by her side. It was hard to maintain hope that he might still be alive. So much time has passed—so many attacks have taken place. I have to be reasonable. But she didn’t feel reasonable.

  The holidays had been particularly difficult with Bram’s death so fresh in their minds and hearts. The family had gathered, along with the friends who now lived on the Diamond V, but the celebration held a touch of sorrow as they exchanged their gifts and talked of the new year to come. In the weeks that passed, a gloom seemed to settle over the house and a spirit of despair seemed to touch everyone.

  Dianne walked through the unfinished structure that was to one day be her wing of the house.

  She held up a lantern to better view the structure. “But there will never be a family without Cole at my side. I can’t even imagine it as so,” she murmured. The bare skeletal framework had been finished enough to keep out the winter snows and some of the cold, but it would need a great deal of work before it bore any real resemblance to comfortable rooms.

  Dianne sighed and leaned against a very crude doorframe. “I can’t live in the past. If Cole is dead, then I must go on. I owe it to those who are still living.” Dianne thought of her youth and the years she’d spent in Missouri. How simple life had been. She had her friends and her parties and fun. She was spoiled, though at the time she couldn’t see it. She despised book learning— hated the hours sitting in school, struggling to memorize dates and perfect her handwriting.

  Her father taught her to keep the books for the store, and while that was better than schoolwork and not nearly as taxing to Dianne’s mind, she never had any real appreciation for the benefits such a job allowed her.

  Those days seemed a thousand years ago. Long before she’d met Faith and Charity—ages and ages before coming to live with Koko and Uncle Bram.

  “I know I must survive, Lord,” she began to pray. “I know you have brought me here for a reason, but that reason is far from my understanding.”

  She moved back toward the finished portion of the second floor. Here she took one of the bedrooms that would one day be given to guests who came to visit. Beyond that room and down the other wing, Koko and her children shared several rooms. It was hard to believe that Susannah was already a year old. The little girl was a handful. She’d begun to walk just a week before Christmas, and now, as Koko said, there would be no holding her back.

  Dianne lingered a moment longer, then headed downstairs to the main part of the house. It was late and the lonely silence of the house filled Dianne with a sense of sorrow and regret. At times like this, sleep was hard to find. The longing in her heart overwhelmed everything else—even the need for rest.

  Walking quietly through the house, Dianne marveled at the fine woodwork Bram had arranged for, as well as the lovely stone fireplace in the large front gathering room. They had enjoyed a large fire earlier in the evening, but now there were only embers. Nevertheless, Dianne placed the lantern on the mantel and knelt on the floor in front of the hearth. She held out her hands to capture the last bits of heat. The house was grow
ing colder by the minute, but this one last vestige of the fire’s warmth seemed to bolster her weary soul.

  Dianne whispered a verse from the first chapter of Nahum. “‘The Lord is good, a strong hold in the day of trouble; and he knoweth them that trust in him.’ ” Surely these were days of trouble. Surely no other time called for her trust as much as this moment.

  She leaned her head against the warm stones. “I do trust you, Lord. I’m just not sure where you are leading me—or whether I’ll want to be there when I learn the destination. Help me to endure what comes . . . to abandon my fears and think only of the hope I have in you.”

  At breakfast the next morning, Dianne sat down at her usual place. She couldn’t bring herself to take Bram’s seat at the head of the table. Neither could Koko. Dianne had encouraged Koko to take her rightful position as head of the family and the ranch, but it wasn’t a position Koko wanted.

  “It wouldn’t be fair to my children,” she told Dianne one evening. “They would come to see me in a position of authority, and when the rest of the white world did not also honor that, they would grow angry and confused. I do not wish to see my son grow up bitter and resentful.”

  But Dianne wondered how the children could help but feel that way as they grew old enough to understand the truth. After all, the day would come when Jamie would face the prejudices Koko feared. He’d one day have to be told that he had no right to the land his father had settled. He’d learn that because Blackfoot blood ran in his veins, he would not even be considered a citizen of the United States. How could bitterness then be avoided? Dianne wondered.

  Faith served up a fine meal of fried ham and potatoes, and after everyone enjoyed their fill, the men drifted off to their duties. Charity and Faith remained in the dining room, along with Koko and the children. Jamie played quietly in the corner while Susannah nursed at her mother’s breast.

  “I wondered if we might speak for a few minutes,” Dianne said as Charity got to her feet and started clearing the table. “Can you remain a short time?”

  “Of course, Dianne,” the older woman said, retaking her seat. “What did you wish to discuss?”

  Dianne sat down without ceremony and drew a deep breath. “Our future.”

  Faith looked intrigued, while Koko appeared to be lost in thought.

  “Dealing with the future is a business I’m well familiar with,” Charity laughed. “ ’Cept we look more into the eternal future.”

  Dianne and Faith both chuckled, but Koko looked at Dianne, her dark eyes searching Dianne’s face. “What do you have in mind?” she asked softly.

  “Well, I wanted to ask that very question of you, Koko,” Dianne began. “We have a ranch to run, and we have some decisions to make before spring rolls around.” Dianne paused and lowered her voice as if in respect for the dead. “I know Bram has only been gone a short time, but he’d be the first one to tell us that life out here stops for no man. Not Uncle Bram—not Cole Selby.”

  The mention of Cole’s name sobered every face at the table. Koko’s expression grew sympathetic. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I haven’t even stopped to think of how his absence has hurt you.”

  “I won’t lie to you, my dearest friends. I’m terrified that he’s dead and at the same time know that if he’s not dead, he’s changed his mind about us and hasn’t had the guts or gumption to tell me.” Her words were frank, almost rehearsed, but Dianne knew she had to keep her momentum going or she might well give way to emotion.

  “Cole should have been home last September. There have been multiple reports of wagon trains attacked and destroyed by Indians. I have to allow for the fact that Cole may have met with a fate such as this. It’s a very real possibility.”

  “We have to have hope,” Faith said softly.

  “Yes,” Charity agreed. “And faith that God has Cole in His care.”

  Dianne appreciated their words, but she’d already told herself all of this. “I know, but here again, decisions have to be made. Gus has agreed to stay on. He has no desire to go anywhere else or work for anyone else. That’s definitely to our benefit, agreed?”

  Koko nodded and shifted the now sleeping baby. “Most definitely. Bram had great confidence in Gus. He would always consult Gus about important matters. He said Gus was the best man for the job and knew much about ranching.”

  “The herd is growing every year. Gus thinks next year we’ll be able to sell off quite a few steers to the army. That will increase our revenue and allow us to hire workers to finish the house. I know this place was important to Uncle Bram. It was his dream, and I’d like to see it finished. Beyond that, Gus said we should look to expanding the bunkhouse and taking on a few more year-round workers. I figure Gus knows best about these things, and I’m inclined to heed his requests.”

  “I agree,” Faith said, putting in her thoughts. “Malachi says that man knows more about horses and cattle than a human being ought to know. I’m glad he’s staying on. As for me and Malachi, well, you know our intentions. We want to stay on and make a home here. We are pleased to be a part of the Diamond V. Pleased to have jobs we enjoy. I like cooking for the men. I can even keep meals for everyone here at the house—’course, that’s up to you and Koko. I don’t want either one of you to feel like I’m stepping out of line. If you’ll let me, though, I’d be happy to keep everyone fed.”

  Dianne looked to Koko. “Does that meet with your approval?”

  “Certainly. I have nothing but praise for Faith. She saved my Susannah from death when I was too sick to care for her, and Jamie adores her.” She looked to Faith and actually smiled. “I love you like a sister.”

  “I feel the same way. Not many places in this world where a Negro would be welcome to sit at the same table as white folks. You’ve all made me feel as though the color of my skin doesn’t matter.”

  “To us, it doesn’t,” Charity agreed. “I’m pleased to be a part of an establishment where people are judged by their actions rather than their skin color or education or even gender. I look at you three and feel a deep pride—almost like a mama. I knew Dianne when she was just a slip of girl who didn’t even know how to thread a needle. I’ve watched you all work together and pray together, and I’m proud to be a part of this family and this ranch. Ben and I feel it’s important to stay and put down roots— establish a church right here in the valley. I’m here to help in whatever way I can.” She paused. “I guess I’m best with a needle, so if you’d allow me, I’d be happy to do the mending and sewing for the ranch. I know we’ll probably all need to pitch in on it from time to time, but I’m still pretty quick with my work, despite my rheumatism.”

  Dianne laughed. “I’ll bet you are.”

  “Dianne’s gotten very good at her sewing,” Koko put in. “When she first came here she was very capable, but over the years she’s really learned to master her skills.”

  “I’m better with a horse, though.” Dianne couldn’t help but make this statement. Truth be told, she’d rather be outside working with the livestock on any given day, rather than sewing or cooking. She was pleased that her friends were volunteering for the jobs they loved the best.

  “Our herd of horses has grown considerably. Gus has given me good ideas for breeding stronger, more efficient animals. The army is always in need of good horseflesh, and Gus believes we can make a good amount of money in rounding up wild horses and bringing them in to break. I think he’s absolutely right. Gus even has a couple of friends he’d like to bring up here to help. They’re the best in horse-breaking, as far as Gus is concerned.” “So you will work with the horses and cattle,” Koko said thoughtfully.

  Dianne shrugged. “Guess so. I can also keep the books. Uncle Bram taught me about that early on—right after he found out I kept books for Papa.” She smiled. “Uncle Bram didn’t care for bookkeeping any more than I did, but at least it was something I could do to help.”

  “Where does that leave me?” Koko asked.

  Dianne smiled. “Where w
ould you like it to leave you? There’s still plenty to be done, and you hold some very valuable skills that none of the rest of us can boast.”

  Koko shook her head. “I don’t know how I can be much good to anyone.”

  Jamie came to his mother and put his head against her. “You’re good, Mama.” He patted her hand and repeated the words. The action nearly brought tears to Dianne’s eyes. She hadn’t stopped to think how much or how little Jamie might be hearing.

  “Yes, you are a good mama,” Dianne said softly. “You’re also very gifted in leatherwork, something the rest of us aren’t that experienced with. You make many valuable products for the ranch, and if you choose, you could go on making them.”

  Koko nodded. “I like working with the hides. I’d be happy to continue with that. I also like to garden and can the fruit and vegetables we grow. So when spring comes, I could plant the garden and can our food.”

  “I help plant too,” Jamie said in a very serious manner.

  Dianne smiled, realizing how neatly God had ordered this gathering. “See there? We each have these great skills—needed skills. We make quite a grand collection of workers.”

  “I’ll say!” Gus drawled as he came into the dining room from the kitchen.

  “Gus! When did you get back?”

  “Just now. I rode a storm across the valley and barely beat it in.”

  “How bad of a storm?” Dianne questioned. “Do we need to make provision?”

  “I don’t think we need to do anything more than we’ve already prepared for. I think we’ll be just fine nestled up here. Probably snow—maybe heavy, but nothing we can’t handle, eh, ladies?” The weathered cowboy grinned and winked. His confidence bolstered Dianne once again.