“Don’t you understand?” Dianne questioned, looking to him with such an expression of sorrow that Cole longed to take her into his arms. “I’d rather live in a tent in the middle of the Diamond V than live in a palace here in Kansas. I’d rather have nothing more than a ranch shack in which to raise my children than to endure this place with its heat and humidity and hate. Can’t you see how hard it is for Lia? She’s not well. She can scarcely breathe properly. She coughs all the time now, and it’s only been a couple days.”
“She’s probably just caught a cold,” he replied. “If it worsens we’ll take her to the doctor. Look, I’m sorry this is difficult. It’s hardly easy on me.”
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and turned to him. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve lost my father and mother—I understand what loss is and how it devastates and clouds one’s judgment.”
“And you think my judgment is clouded?”
“I think you’ve lost sight of what our dreams were.”
“Maybe I’ve just lost sight of what your dreams were. Maybe I’m only now finding out what mine are.” He hadn’t intended to take on the harsh tone, but he’d had more than he wanted of this conversation. “Look, it’s hot and I’m tired. I want to go to sleep. We can talk more about this tomorrow.”
Dianne rolled over on her side. “Just so long as you realize one thing. I cannot live here. I won’t stay here.”
Cole lay awake for a long time after that. He wasn’t sure if it was her words or the heat that caused his stomach to sour, but he felt sick for most of the night. Dianne wouldn’t stay here, and his mother wouldn’t leave. How was he supposed to meet the needs of both women without hurting one or the other?
Lord, this won’t be easily solved, he prayed. Please give me wisdom.
The days went by so slowly that Dianne thought she could actually count time in the number of labored breaths she drew. The air seemed so thick that she could scarcely fill her lungs enough, and Lia had developed a chronic cough. Dianne told herself it would be all right—that she could endure this short time for Cole’s sake. But nothing was right about this place.
Standing over a tub of dirty laundry, Dianne was hard pressed to find anything good or uplifting about her circumstance. She tried to pray, even as she worked, but the words wouldn’t come. Lia was hardly herself, sitting on a blanket nearby. She didn’t want to play or even help, as she often begged to do at home in Montana. The boys seemed the least affected. They were running in circles around the yard, playing with Jake and enjoying the day. Dianne was at least grateful that they were happy.
“Mama, when can we go home?” Lia asked.
Dianne straightened. “I don’t know. Papa needs to be here for a little while to help Grandma and Grandpa Selby. When things are better, we can go back to Montana.”
Lia sighed and picked up her doll. Dianne felt the same hopelessness that seemed to engulf her child. They weren’t needed here. They weren’t even liked. It was clear that Mary Selby wished Dianne and her children had never come. Dianne tried to talk to Cole about it, but he told her it was all her imagination, that his mother was simply worried about her husband.
Dianne could understand that, but it didn’t make her treatment any easier to bear. Cole’s sisters were an entirely different matter. Laurel had arrived that morning, bringing her spoiled daughters. Josephine, who was sixteen, made it quite clear that she wanted nothing to do with her rowdy cousins. She sneered down her nose at the boys and rudely questioned why Dianne would allow Lia to run around half dressed. Dianne explained that they were unaccustomed to the heat, but it didn’t matter to Josephine or her mother. Laurel’s other three daughters were equally obnoxious, even laughing at Dianne’s gown and asking if people in Montana didn’t care about fashion. Dianne told them in a clipped tone that people in Montana worked hard to stay alive and didn’t have time for frippery.
Perhaps the thing that bothered Dianne the most was the girls’ closeness to Mary Selby. They clearly ruled the roost and had their grandmother’s affection. It made Dianne sad for her own children, who immediately noted the change in their grandmother. Mary Selby fussed and doted on each of the girls, clearly ignoring Dianne’s children.
Cordelia and her two girls arrived about an hour after Laurel. Eva, age ten, seemed interested in the boys, but Cordelia quickly put an end to that. She forced Eva and her little sister, Lydia, to remain with Laurel’s daughters and have nothing to do with Dianne’s children. In fact, after the briefest of introductions to Cordelia, Dianne was clearly dismissed by Mary Selby.
“I’m sure you have things to occupy your time,” Mary had stated curtly.
It was then that Dianne had gathered her brood, along with the laundry, and headed outdoors. Dianne had remained outside all morning, hoping fervently that Cole’s sisters would leave before lunchtime.
“Mama, that mean lady is coming,” Lia suddenly warned.
Dianne looked up to see Cordelia making her way across the yard. “You boys are entirely too noisy. Stop playing with that dog at once and go sit down.”
Dianne watched the boys freeze in their place, shocked that anyone should make these demands. Deciding it was time to establish some control, Dianne went to Cordelia. “If you have a problem with my children, come to me, not to them.”
Cordelia was only a few years Dianne’s junior, but she clearly thought herself superior in this situation. She touched a gloved hand to her chest as if surprised by Dianne’s attitude.
“I’m only thinking of my father.”
“Your father’s room is on the front side of the house. We are here in the backyard, clearly away from the house. I doubt seriously the noise can even be heard in the kitchen, much less in his room.”
“You are just as rude as Mother described you.”
“If telling the truth or standing up for one’s family is rude, then yes, I’m very rude. I don’t know what I’ve done to put you or your mother in such ill tempers, but I won’t let you take it out on my children.”
“Your boys are positively heathens. They need discipline.”
“They need to be back home,” Dianne snapped.
“Well, that isn’t going to happen now, so you’d best learn to deal with them. We’re civilized here, and their lack of manners won’t be easily tolerated.”
Dianne felt a chill for the first time since arriving in Kansas. “I’m uncertain as to the manners and behaviors of this part of the country, but treating people as though they are no better than dirt to be swept aside is considered rude and ill mannered where I come from. You walk around here with your airs and attitudes, your sister and children just as uppity as you are, and yet you condemn my family?”
Dianne gave her no time to respond. “I came here to support my husband in his time of grief and have been treated with nothing but disdain since setting foot on this property. Cole wanted to show off his children—children that he is very proud of, I might add. And those same children have been treated with contempt such as I would not impose upon a dog.”
Cordelia sneered. “You weren’t needed here. Cole was. He still is and always will be. Our mother needs him to take over this farm and to care for her.”
“Cole has a place to run—a ranch in Montana. He has a wife and children to whom he’s now obligated,” Dianne countered. “This farm is not his home.”
“Don’t be so sure. Our father has already asked him to stay and take it over once he’s gone.”
“Yes, I know that. Cole discussed the matter with me and we came to the conclusion that such a thing simply wouldn’t work. We have a home in Montana, and that’s where we’ll return after the funeral.”
Cordelia seemed taken aback by this news. “You are a selfish woman. Taking a man away from his grieving mother.”
“She has you and Laurel to see to her needs. She has your children and Laurel’s and clearly wants nothing to do with mine.” By now the boys had gathered around their mother as if to protect her fro
m Cordelia’s barbs. Dianne didn’t wish for them to be a part of this, however.
“Boys, take Lia to the pump and clean up for dinner.” They immediately did as they were told, much to her relief.
Cordelia seemed to be surprised by this but said nothing. Dianne, however, had plenty she wanted to say now that her children were out of earshot. Leaning toward Cole’s sister, she put aside propriety.
“Cole is my husband, and he knows his responsibility to his own family comes first. I won’t allow you, your sister, or your mother to interfere with that. We aren’t staying here in Kansas, and you might as well get used to it.”
Cole rounded the milk house just as Dianne finished speaking. To her surprise, Cordelia burst into tears and ran to her brother.
“Your wife is so cruel!” She threw herself into Cole’s arms.
“What’s this all about?” he questioned.
Dianne opened her mouth to speak, but Cordelia immediately commanded the situation. “She’s been berating me for mentioning how grateful we were that you were here and how we were hoping that you would stay on to comfort Mother after Father passes on. She feels we’re trying to make unfair demands on you.”
Cole cast an accusing glance at Dianne.
“I’ve merely been telling your sister than I don’t appreciate the manner in which the children and I have been treated. She came out here commanding our boys as if she were somehow in charge.”
“Dianne, the situation is not easy for them,” Cole said, looking at her as if she had broken all the rules of proper protocol.
Cordelia sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief that seemed to appear out of nowhere. “We’re none of us ourselves,” she said softly, clinging to Cole. “It’s been so difficult watching Father … fade.”
“That’s still no reason to make children feel bad,” Dianne countered.
“Dianne, you must show more compassion,” he commanded. “I’m certain Cordelia meant no harm.”
“She says you’ll leave right after the funeral. Please tell me that isn’t true,” Cordelia sobbed. “I don’t know what we’ll do without you. I don’t know how we’ll make arrangements for everything.”
Cole frowned. “I have no intention of leaving while I’m still needed here.”
Dianne narrowed her eyes and met her husband’s gaze. She was glad that Cordelia had once again buried her face against Cole’s shoulder. Her rage was barely controllable. How dare he take his sister’s side over hers?
“Cole, please hitch the buggy for me. The children and I are going into town … where I’m sure we’ll be treated with more warmth and welcome than we are here.”
Dianne gathered her things and stormed away. “Children, go comb your hair and make yourselves presentable for town. We will leave in fifteen minutes. I need to change my clothes.”
She tried not to give in to her anger, but the moment she went through the bedroom door, Dianne threw the basket and contents across the room. She let out an exasperated cry and began nearly tearing her clothes from her body.
“I can’t believe he could treat me like that in front of his sister. He can’t help but know how that would make me feel,” she muttered. She dropped the lightweight calico gown on the floor and stepped out of it. Going to the wardrobe, she opened it and pulled out a serge suit of amber and black. Cole came into the room as she pulled on the blouse, fumbling to secure the buttons.
“I don’t want you to go to town alone.”
“I don’t want you to make decisions about living in Kansas without consulting me,” she snapped.
“Dianne, this isn’t an easy situation.”
“No, it isn’t. You don’t see how you are being manipulated by those women.”
“My mother and sisters are only looking for strength—encouragement.”
Dianne pulled on her skirt and tucked in her blouse before buttoning the waist. “If those women had any more strength, they’d be men! What they need from you—what they are demanding from you—is your very life, and mine.”
“That’s not true. You’ve been unfair about them since we first arrived. You didn’t want to come and now you’re blaming them somehow for having to be here.”
She pulled on her jacket. “The only thing I blame them for is trying to turn you against your family.”
“No one could do that,” Cole replied.
“Well, it seems to me they’ve already accomplished that. You took the word of your sister over mine only moments ago.”
“She was in tears,” he protested.
Dianne finished the final button on her coat and looked hard at her husband. “Is that what one has to do in order to get a little compassion from you? I’ve cried a bucketful since we’ve arrived. Does that count?”
Cole came to her. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been myself, but what can you expect? Look at what I’m trying to deal with.”
Dianne felt the fight in her die away. She could see in his eyes that he was genuinely sorry for what had happened. “I know it isn’t easy, but I can’t help you bear this when you push me away at every turn.”
“I can’t deal with the condemnation you give me. I know I’ve failed you in so many ways, but I can’t bear anything more at this point. Seeing my father die … well … it just makes me all the more aware of how frail life is. How I haven’t accomplished anything that I’d hoped to do.” He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. “Please don’t go to town alone. I know you’re upset, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to you or the children.”
She drew a deep breath. “Very well. I’ll stay.”
He smiled and pulled her into his arms. “Thank you.”
She bit her lip to keep from saying anything further. He wouldn’t understand and might not even hear her. She sighed when she thought of trying to make dinner and deal with Cole’s sisters and mother. Still, there was nothing else to be done. She’d already promised him she would stay. She’d set her own punishment.
CHAPTER 7
HALLAM DIED TWO WEEKS LATER. DIANNE FELT ALMOST A sense of relief in his passing. Still, he was the only Selby who had treated her with any kindness, so she felt some loss along with the relief. Cole said little to her about his father’s death, and Dianne didn’t press him. She was barely on speaking terms with him since the incident with Cordelia, and now that Hallam had passed on, it was clear she wasn’t needed.
Arrangements were made for the funeral, with Cole helping his mother from dawn to dusk. People began coming by to offer their condolences. Most brought some type of food, and soon the kitchen and dining room overflowed with cakes, puddings, vegetables, and meats.
Dianne kept her children upstairs or out back most of the time. No one seemed interested in meeting them, and the family didn’t wish for them to be around.
“Why does Grandma hate us?” Luke asked his mother.
Dianne wanted to respond in a catty manner but held her tongue. If she worked to put up walls between the Selbys and her children, she’d be acting the same as they were. “Grandma doesn’t hate you. She’s grieving, and that makes people say and do strange things. Just pray for her, Luke. Pray that God will comfort her heart.”
Her eldest nodded and went back to playing with his brothers.
“Is Grandpa going to stay dead?” Lia asked when her brothers were occupied once again.
Dianne smiled at her daughter. “His body is all that died. His spirit belonged to Jesus, so he will live forever in heaven.”
“Like Winona’s papa?”
Dianne thought of Levi. “Yes. Like Winona’s papa.”
“Will my papa die?”
Dianne saw the worry in Lia’s expression. “Oh, Lia, everybody dies someday, but I think your papa will be around for a long, long time. You mustn’t be afraid of death, though. Jesus said, ‘I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.’ When
our trust is placed in Jesus, we only die to our earthly life—but we’ll live forever in heaven.”
“But Grandpa died and Levi died,” Lia replied.
“Only their bodies. They both loved Jesus, so their spirits will never die. They will go to heaven and live with Him forever.”
“I’m glad. Winona wants to see her papa again. She told me so.”
Dianne smiled. “There will always be people we’d like to see again.” Places too, she thought. I long for Montana and the people I love there. Lord, it’s so hard to be here. I feel so alone except for the children.
She tried hard, however, to be pleasant and kind. She didn’t want her personal feelings to be a topic of criticism. There were already plenty of things her mother and sisters-in-law found fault with. No need to give them any more ammunition against her.
With Hallam buried and the funeral behind them, Dianne began to look for some sign that her husband would take them home to Montana. But as August slipped away and September loomed, Dianne began to fear the worst.
Occupying the boys with some primers she’d brought, Dianne left them reading and went downstairs to attend the task of ironing. Lia was sleeping and the heat had subsided a bit. It seemed a good time to see to her chores. It also seemed a good time to think through the situation and come to some decisions.
I must convince Cole that we need to return home. She tested the iron and began to work out the wrinkles in one of the boys’ shirts. If only he would listen to reason. If we wait too long, winter will come and travel will be too dangerous. Maybe if I remind him of the children—especially of Lia’s health—he’ll be willing to make the arrangements. But in her heart, Dianne worried that nothing would ever convince her husband to leave his mother’s farm. She had prayed for strength and understanding, but neither one seemed to be hers. There was no peace for her here. Her children were rejected and she was despised. How could Cole continue to desire living here when his wife and children were so clearly disliked?
Dianne had managed to iron nearly half of the things she’d brought when Mary Selby appeared in the kitchen. She said nothing to Dianne in greeting but immediately went to work. It looked as if she intended to bake, so Dianne quickly began to gather her things. She wanted there to be no excuse for Mary to be unhappy with her.
Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] Page 7
