The Coming Storm

by Tracie Peterson

‘‘What?’’

  Dianne shook her head. ‘‘I was just realizing that you’re twenty-nine years old.’’

  ‘‘I’ll be thirty next June,’’ he admitted. ‘‘Seems like a real milestone in the life of a person.’’

  ‘‘Do you ever think of marrying?’’

  ‘‘If the right woman came along, I might. So far I haven’t found that woman. She’d have to understand army life and be willing to move about and endure the worries of an army wife.’’

  ‘‘So you plan to stay in the army?’’ She felt a twinge of disappointment even in asking. She’d always held hope in the back of her mind that he might come and stay with them and take on some of the ranching—just as Trenton had done.

  ‘‘I like the army well enough. I don’t like the constant conflict with the Indians, but someone has to help keep the peace. That’s my focus. Keeping the peace.’’

  ‘‘But keeping that peace requires you to kill people. I know that goes against everything you stand for.’’

  Zane looked thoughtful. ‘‘I feel compelled to consider the better good of the masses. I don’t like to see the Indians hurt, you know that. But the whites will come and continue to come. They won’t be stopped. Immigrants are flooding into the nation by the thousands. They want the land of milk and honey—well, they just want the land. Most can’t own property in their native lands.’’

  ‘‘Still, to come here and impose themselves upon us. We were born here.’’

  ‘‘We were and our parents were, but not our grandparents. Ma’s Dutch folks were no different than the Dutch immigrants coming now. They come with a dream to live a new life—to make a better way. The English are coming, the Germans, the Swedes . . . anyone who has a dream sees America as the place for that dream to come true.”

  “And the price is to rob the Indians of their land—their way of life.”

  “You’re thinking of the discussion on that new Indian law, aren’t you?”

  “For lawmakers to sit in the capitol and declare that all Indians must be on their reservations by the end of next month or be considered hostile seems harsh.”

  Zane nodded. “I know. But there has to be order. If the Indians don’t return to their reservations and set up their lives there, they’ll make war on the whites who come into the land, and we’ll be forced to get in the middle of it.”

  “To kill the Indians, you mean,” Dianne stated more than asked.

  “To keep the peace,” Zane said, his voice touched with sorrow.

  Dianne undressed for bed, pulling on a very full flannel gown. She loved being with child, but she also looked forward to returning to her slim figure and old clothes. She wasn’t very fond of sack-style dresses that tied above the swell of her stomach, nor the oversized blouses and drawstring-type shirtwaists. She’d be happy to once again cinch her waist with a belt.

  Sitting down at her dressing table, Dianne pulled the pins from her hair. The gold mass fell below her waist in a wave. With long, determined strokes, Dianne began brushing her hair. She relished this quiet time of night when she was alone to think. Cole would soon be up, and they would talk for a while in bed. He would then read to her from the Bible, and they would pray before going to sleep. She realized, as the baby’s time neared, that some of their most precious time together was the time they simply talked and shared their hearts.

  Dianne felt the baby move and smiled. It was a good feeling. The baby moved less and less these days, and Koko assured her that meant the birth would be soon. Dianne could feel that the child had moved lower. It was hard now to walk, and sometimes the baby caused pain in her hip joint. Koko thought it to be because the baby was pressing on the blood flow. Dianne only knew that the baby was making him- or herself well known.

  “We’ll have to settle on a name soon,” she murmured. She and Cole had been thinking for some time of what they would like to call the baby. Dianne had been partial to the name Martha, until Cole had brought her the book Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Now she really liked the name Louisa May, as well as Amy, from one of the characters in the story. She thought the name Amy Selby sounded quite nice for a girl.

  For a boy, they’d already discussed several possibilities. Cole was partial to the name Lucas, and Dianne had to admit she liked it. They could call him Luke. Other names discussed were William and Michael. John Selby also had a nice ring to it, as did Walter, but Dianne felt that Lucas would probably win out over the others.

  Cole wanted very much for their first child to be a boy. Dianne honestly didn’t care whether it was a boy or a girl, but she wanted to please Cole and therefore hoped the baby would be of the male persuasion.

  “As long as he’s healthy and strong,” she whispered. “I don’t care otherwise.”

  She finished with her hair and had just crawled into bed when Cole opened the door to the room. “The wind’s picked up,” he said, smiling at her. “I hope that brother of yours had the good sense to ride at a quick pace back to the fort. I think a snow may be on his heels.”

  “He’s smart; I’m sure he’s seen worse.”

  “No doubt.” Cole deposited his jacket on a chair near the door and began unfastening the buttons on his vest. “So how are you feeling this evening, Mrs. Selby?”

  “Tired but good. I’m anxious for the baby to come. I was just thinking again about names.”

  “And what did you come up with?” he asked, casting the vest over the jacket.

  “I think if it’s a boy we should go with Lucas. The more I try the name, the more I like it. It’s strong and has ties to the Bible. I liked your idea of using my maiden name for his middle name, so Lucas Chadwick Selby should suit him just fine.”

  “And if it’s a girl?” Cole unfastened the few buttons on his shirt and pulled it off over his head. “There’s always that possibility.”

  Dianne nodded. “I think I’m stuck on Amy. I just love that name. It’s all your fault for bringing home that delightful book.”

  “As I recall, I brought you two delightful books. LittleWomen and Les Mise rables. Were there no perfect names in the latter?”

  “None that I cared for,” Dianne admitted, thinking back on the characters. “I was deeply moved by the story, however. I think you’d like it very much. Funny,” she said, rubbing her abdomen, “I never really liked to read until moving here. In the evening, after work is done, reading has become a wonderful pastime.”

  Cole finished undressing and slipped into bed beside his wife. Dianne snuggled into his arms and sighed. She loved being here more than anyplace else in the world.

  “Hmm,” Cole murmured. “You’re nice and warm.”

  “And you’re strong and make me feel safe,” Dianne whispered.

  “I’ll always keep you safe, my love.”

  “But bad times are coming. Zane said as much when he first told us of the government’s decision to round up all the Indians.”

  “I know, but we can’t worry about it. We need to bide our time and see what happens.”

  “What about Takes Many Horses?” Dianne asked, leaning up to see her husband’s face. “He’s out there somewhere. At least I hope he’s still alive. No one, not even Koko, has heard from him in all these years. Just that one visit in ’73. Now 1875 is nearly gone, and there’s still been no word. And a lot has happened with the Blackfoot tribe in the meanwhile.”

  “If he’s dead, he’s beyond our worry. If he’s alive, he knows he’s welcome here,” Cole said thoughtfully. “My guess is that he’s alive and well. He’s a fighter and a good man. I think he’s still out there somewhere.”

  “Then why doesn’t he come for a visit? I know Koko pines for him. She loves him so and worries about him.”

  Cole shook his head. “I don’t know, Dianne. But George is his own man. He’ll come and go at his will, not our desire.”

  “Do you suppose he’s on the reservation with the Blackfoot?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t see a man like that penned up on a reser
vation, but then again, I can’t see any of those men penned up like that. If he feels it’s for the betterment of his people, he might go.”

  “If he doesn’t go, the order says they may be considered hostile. Zane says that means they can be killed without question.”

  Cole’s expression was loving. He caressed her cheek, warming her from the outside in. “He’s in God’s hands, sweetheart. We can stew and fret over him all we want, and it simply will not change what’s going on. I’m not pleased with the government’s new order. But I can’t change it either. If the Indians, no matter the tribe, choose to make a stand and fight the soldiers, then I can only imagine the outcome.”

  Dianne settled back against her husband. “So much has changed. New people and ranches are springing up everywhere. Gus is worried about the sheep people and farmers who want to fence everything off. Towns are forming, and that means more rules and more troubles.”

  “I know, but things will always change. Wouldn’t be alive without change. Even here,” he said, gently touching her swollen stomach. “Change.”

  “It will be so different. You and me—parents. I sometimes wonder if I’ll be any good at it.”

  Cole chuckled. “You are good at everything you set your hand to. Mothering will come naturally, I know. I remember you with your little sisters.”

  “They weren’t infants. I helped a bit when they were young, but I never had to care for them as babies. I just worry that I won’t know the right things to do—that I’ll miss something and won’t keep him safe.” Dianne trembled at the thought of somehow failing to care for her baby, as she had failed with her mother.

  “You’ve had a hand in helping with Koko’s children and Faith’s. I doubt very seriously you’ll have any trouble with our babies. I do have a suggestion, however. This place is growing fast. The cattle and horses are bringing us a nice income, and there’s no reason it won’t continue to get better.

  “The boys and I have plans to finish the construction on the remaining unfinished portions of the house over the next few months. It’s going to be larger than ever, and I think we ought to consider getting a regular housekeeper and maybe a cook and a couple of other girls to help out.”

  “Do you really think we need that kind of help? I mean, Koko and I are pretty capable.”

  “I know you are, but Koko wants to school little James, and that takes a good deal of time. These children will need more and more schooling. I think we may even have to form our own school right here on the ranch. After all, I doubt other schools are going to take in Indian or black children.”

  “Charity has already offered to do this,” Dianne said, her fears passing away as her excitement grew. “She believes she can teach the children everything they’ll need for their primary work. We’ll just need to get some primers and other books for her to use.”

  Cole nodded. “I should have known you’d have this all worked out.”

  “Well, with Ben running the church in their cabin, it seems natural that Charity could run a school.”

  “That’s another thing we need to think about. With all the folks in the valley now, we really should build a church. Maybe somewhere to the north.”

  “That’d be nice,” Dianne agreed. “I’ve always invited the other families when we’re at roundup, but driving all the way here from their ranches isn’t all that convenient.”

  Cole pulled her close and sighed. “Not much in this country is convenient, but we’ll make it work. Because that’s what taming the land is all about. We’ll make this work too. I think we need to look at all the good around us. We have some good neighbors, new doctors, and stores. It’s a whole lot easier to get supplies ordered with the telegraph system in place and freight roads so easy to pass over. With the train running regularly across the country and talk of new tracks being put in across Montana, well, we should see things become a little easier every day.”

  “But the Blackfoot won’t,” she sighed, laying her cheek against his chest. “None of the Indians will see an easier day, and that breaks my heart.”

  “I know,” Cole whispered, “but all we can do is trust God for the outcome. He’s already seen the future—He knows what’s coming. He knows.”

  CHAPTER 30

  DIANNE EXPERIENCED THE FIRST PAINS OF LABOR EARLY ON the morning of December 22. She hadn’t really known what to expect. Koko had told her how it felt, as had Faith, but Dianne’s labor seemed completely different. An ache in her lower back woke her that morning, but it wasn’t all that different from the other backaches she’d known during the latter months of her pregnancy.

  “You’re moving kind of slow today,” Cole said as he dressed.

  “I’m stiff and sore. This baby is no doubt eager to be born.” She massaged the small of her back and sighed.

  Cole came and put his arms around Dianne. Leaning down, he whispered against her ear, “I’m eager too. I think this is the best Christmas present we’ve ever had.”

  Dianne smiled. “Maybe he’ll be born on Christmas.”

  “Maybe she will be,” Cole countered.

  They laughed at their little game. For weeks they’d pondered and explored each possibility, always concluding that no matter what God gave them, they’d be happy and blessed by this new life.

  Dianne began to dress, feeling great frustration in her inability to do the simple tasks that used to be easy. “I tire so quickly. It just doesn’t seem fair. I can stay in the saddle nearly as long as Gus. I can rope and shoot, work the roundup . . . but carrying another human being is just a little more than I seem capable of.”

  Cole finished with his own clothes and came to Dianne. “Here, let me help. What can I do?” She pointed to her gown and he immediately took it in hand.

  “I’m the size of Dolly,” she bemoaned.

  “No you aren’t,” Cole chided as he helped her into the dress. “You’re beautiful, and soon you’ll back to your old size and feel more like yourself. In the meanwhile, every time I look at you, I’m just reminded of how much I love you.”

  Dianne turned in his arms. He seemed to understand her need for reassurance, and she loved him for it. He kissed her gently on the forehead and then the lips. Dianne melted against him in the warmth and contentment of true love.

  “Thank you for helping me,” she said, doing her best to ignore the nagging pain in her back.

  Later that morning Dianne stood by the kitchen table, helping Koko prepare a wild turkey for the smokehouse. She rubbed at the powerful ache in her back until finally Koko commented.

  “Are you hurting?”

  Dianne nodded. “Usually the stiffness leaves by now, but this is much stronger.”

  Koko clapped her hands and Suzy, sitting in a chair next to the table, did likewise. “It’s the baby,” Koko declared.

  “The baby? You mean I’m having him now?” Dianne asked in horror.

  “You are probably in labor. Back labor. My mother spoke of having it with my brother. I’ve never experienced it, but she said most all of her pain started in her back and was strongest there.”

  “I don’t feel bad otherwise,” Dianne said, getting excited at the prospect of finally delivering her child.

  “We will just prepare for the arrival and wait until the pains are stronger. Oh, Dianne, I’m so very happy this day has come.” Koko hugged her close and giggled. “It’s so exciting—like knowing a secret.”

  Dianne couldn’t help but giggle in turn. She felt like a little girl on Christmas Day. Well, it was three days before, but it felt the same.

  By afternoon, Dianne was notably miserable. The baby had pushed low, making her uncomfortable standing or sitting. Koko wanted her to go to bed, but Dianne knew she’d have plenty of time there. By evening, however, she was reconsidering. When Cole returned from working with a couple of green-broke geldings and heard what was going on, he gave his wife no choice.

  “You’re going to bed,” he declared and lifted her into his arms.

  When Kok
o finally decided to check Dianne’s progress she wasn’t at all pleased. “The baby is breech,” she concluded.

  “Can we turn him?” Dianne questioned, already used to referring to the child as male.

  “I don’t think so. Not now. He’s too low,” Koko said, sitting beside Dianne on the bed. “Breech deliveries are never easy.”

  “What should we do?”

  “I think it would be good to have a doctor. Dr. Bufford isn’t so far away. We could send one of the men for him. I think he’d come without reservation because it’s you.”

  Dianne suddenly felt afraid. Afraid for her baby—afraid for herself. “Do whatever you think is best.” Just then a deep, immobilizing pain spread from her back to her abdomen. Dianne couldn’t help but moan out loud and double to her side. “Whatever you do, you’d better be quick. I don’t know how much longer this little guy’s going to wait.”

  Koko stood and nodded. “I’ll get Charity or Faith to come and sit with you. I’ll talk to Cole and let him know what’s happening. He may even want to sit with you himself.”

  “Cole knows exactly where Bufford’s place is. He may want to ride for him. If he does . . . tell him . . . I’ll be fine and that it’s all right . . . for him to go,” Dianne said, panting against the pain.

  “I’ll tell him.”

  Koko left the room and suddenly Dianne felt very alone. Oh, Lord, she prayed, I’m so afraid. Please save me and my baby. Please don’t let us die. She hated feeling so fearful—so alone. She knew her family was all around her—knew that God was with her as well.

  “What’s this I hear?” Cole asked, coming into the room and quickly crossing to her side. “Is my son giving you a hard time?”

  “So you finally are ready to concede that it’s a boy?” Dianne questioned, trying to sound jovial so as not to worry her husband. “I’m ready to do whatever it takes to get that baby born.

  Including going for Dr. Bufford. Are you sure you don’t want me to send someone else?”

  “I’d love for you to be here, but I also know it’s going to be hard to find his place in the dark. You know your way around here better than most. I trust you to bring him,” Dianne answered, the pain subsiding.