Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04]

by The Hope Within

  “But they’re only a quarter Blackfoot. That should count for something.”

  “It does,” George replied. “It counts for being Blackfoot and not white. If Koko weren’t such a strong woman of faith, it would probably be much worse for all of us.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  George was silent for a long moment, seeming not to want to answer. Eventually he began. “I’ve tried hard not to be angry or bitter, as you say, about my circumstance. But at times it’s impossible. I feel like the worst kind of traitor to my mother’s people. I should be living on the reservation with the rest of the Blackfoot. Starving and growing sickly and bitter with my friends and family. But instead, I’m living a good life in the beauty of the Madison River valley. Despite losing everything, the ranch house and buildings and most of the stock, I still have something they don’t have, nor will they ever have it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Freedom,” George replied sadly. “They will never know a free day in their lives. They will die on that reservation because it’s been mandated that that is the only acceptable place for them.”

  “I remember having to round up tribes,” Zane said reluctantly. “It wasn’t pleasant. I wanted to be useful to the Indians as well as the army, but you can’t serve two masters.”

  “It would have been different if more men would have had your heart.”

  Zane shook his head. “I don’t know how you can possibly not hate me, George. Even if you are the brother of my uncle’s wife. I’ve killed your people at times.”

  “I’ve killed yours as well. Do you hate me?”

  Zane met the man’s dark eyes. He’d only known respect, even love, for Takes Many Horses—George. “You know I don’t.”

  “The same is true for me. Hatred would serve no purpose. It wouldn’t bring back the days when we traveled freely for weeks to hunt the buffalo. It can’t bring back our way of life, our dreams. There are so many who are angry—who talk of uprisings and war against the whites. But deep inside I think they know they’re defeated. They know of the talk and push for statehood. They know it means more white men, and they already know there are ten times more white men here now than were here twenty years ago when you first came to the territory.”

  Zane knew it to be true. He often thought of the days he’d spent helping round up the renegades as well as chasing down rebel tribes. He still bore a bit of a limp from his encounter at the Battle of the Big Hole, although it seldom bothered him these days. But way back in the early days, there weren’t enough white men to fend off brutal attacks. The army’s intercession had been absolutely necessary.

  “I’ve always figured if we tried hard enough, there ought to be a way to live together,” Zane said. “But I don’t see it happening now.”

  “No, I don’t either. I don’t see too many whites who want to live with Indians. But it isn’t one-sided. I don’t know too many Indians who want to live alongside whites. There are wrongs on both sides. Crimes enough to punish whites and Blackfoot. But whites hold the power, and they will continue to remember the Battle of the Little Big Horn for a long time to come. To whites, one Indian is pretty much the same as the next. They’re all guilty of the wrongs done to Custer and his men by the Sioux and Cheyenne.”

  “I know what you’re saying is probably true.” Zane sighed. “I’ve often wondered what folks back East thought of the Indian wars. Those folks pushed the Indians out so long ago that the conflicts out here probably seemed nothing more than a fight in a faraway land. Still, there was some additional interest in General Custer. Folks figured him to run for president the year he was killed. I know it only managed to stir up the animosity of white settlers and eastern city dwellers. They won’t remember that Custer was a bit of a … well … I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but he was a rather defiant man where authority was concerned. In some ways, he made his own end.”

  “I can’t condone what happened to Custer and his men, but neither can I condone what happened on the Marias when the army slaughtered helpless sick women and children, thinking they had captured the Blackfoot guilty of killing white settlers.”

  “They didn’t think they’d captured the killers. They knew they had the wrong party. I was there,” Zane said bitterly. “I wish I hadn’t been. The army knew they were attacking the wrong band of Blackfoot, but it didn’t matter. My commander’s battle cry was ‘Kill them all. Nits make lice.’ ”

  George shook his head, his brows knitting together. “Meaning what?”

  Zane frowned. “Meaning that children … babies would grow into adult Blackfoot who would need to be fought and controlled.”

  “Ah. I see.” George drew a deep breath. “We had similar thoughts toward the whites. We figured if we killed enough of them, we could eventually wipe them out altogether. We honestly thought if we caused enough problems—warred enough and such—the whites would lose interest in the territory and leave. We were fools, but we didn’t understand the heart of the white man.”

  “Neither did we understand the heart of the Indian. I’m sure we still don’t.”

  “Likewise.”

  They stood in silence for several moments while the later afternoon sun moved further to the west. Zane was surprised that he felt somewhat of a burden lifted in talking to George. It was the first time he’d ever had a chance to really discuss his thoughts on the matter.

  “Well, can you stay with us or are you heading right back to the ranch tonight?” Zane finally said, breaking the stillness.

  “I’d like to stay here tonight if I can. I have a wagonful of goods to haul back, and I’d rather not just get started only to have to make camp for the night. And you know they won’t rent a hotel room to an Indian.” He smiled and Zane couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I’ve never checked on that, but I believe you. It’s a lousy hotel anyway. You’re very welcome to stay. I’m here for a few more days myself. It’ll be good to talk to you about the ranch and see how things are going.”

  “I’d like to hear more about Dianne and Cole. Maybe you could tell me about Cole’s decision to stay.”

  “We’ll discuss it tonight after supper.” Zane couldn’t help but believe George really wanted more information about Dianne, but he was being polite and not overly forward on the matter. “You can put your horse in the corral. There’s not much to offer him in the way of space. There are already a couple of horses in there, but we’ve got some good feed hay, so he shouldn’t complain too much. You can wash up at the pump, then come on in and I’ll find out which room the gals want you to take.”

  Just then Zane got an idea. He turned and looked at George. “Wait a minute, George. Do you have the cabin for Dianne ready?”

  “Sure. That’s why I came. I figured to help Cole make plans for the move.”

  “I have something else in mind. We have a little gal we need to hide out for a time. I think you just might have the place for me to stick her for a spell.”

  Two days later George was back at the Diamond V. Sitting down to a strong cup of coffee, he wondered how much he should tell his sister regarding Cole and Dianne. He knew the letter in his pocket, a letter from Dianne to Koko, probably explained everything, but still George felt uncertain.

  “You’ve said very little since coming in,” Koko declared as she placed a bowl of beef stew in front of him.

  “I know. I’ve had my mind on a great deal. The signs don’t look good. I think we’re in for early snow—maybe heavy.”

  Koko nodded. “I’ve seen the signs as well. Susannah and I finished putting up the last of the vegetables and fruit. Jamie found us a wonderful berry patch and stood guard over us while we picked the last remnants for jam.”

  “I went ahead and purchased some extra provisions. Seemed the right thing to do.”

  “What did Cole say when you told him about the coming winter? Did they decide to stay in town?”

  He drew a deep breath. “Cole wasn’t there. He and Dianne are sti
ll in Kansas.”

  “What?” Koko came to the table and took the seat opposite George. “Tell me everything.”

  He pulled the letter from his pocket. “Start with this and then we’ll talk.”

  She took the missive and read it quickly. “Oh, this isn’t at all good. Poor Dianne. She sounds very defeated.”

  “That’s what Zane told me. He said that Mrs. Selby, Cole’s mother, isn’t treating the family very well. She doesn’t like Dianne or the children.”

  “Yes, Dianne mentioned that as well. Still, this letter was written some time back. Do you suppose they might have worked through their problems?”

  George shook his head. “Zane said Ardith had received a letter not but a few days ago. It was worse than ever. Dianne said that Cole’s mother is going out of her way to cause problems between Dianne and Cole. Zane doesn’t know what Dianne will end up doing.”

  “Knowing Dianne, she’ll take her children and come home.”

  George looked hard at his sister. She was completely serious. “Leave her husband?”

  “Not permanently maybe, but I wouldn’t put it past her to think it the wiser choice. She even implies it in her letter, wondering if we would be receptive to her return here on the ranch.”

  “She knows this is her home,” he protested. “She needn’t ask to return.”

  “She’s always put me above herself,” Koko said softly. “She has never once made me feel that the ranch was anything other than my home … my domain. Bless her heart, she’s proven Bram’s trust in her to be the right choice.”

  “She’s a good woman,” George said, still unnerved by the thought that Dianne might well leave her husband. “There’s something else as well.”

  Koko looked at him oddly. “More bad news?”

  “Could prove to be, but hopefully not. You know Chester Lawrence’s younger daughter, Elsa?”

  “I do remember the girl. What of her?”

  “She’s needing a place to hide.” George toyed with the stew. “Seems Elsa was to be married to old Henry Denig, and she isn’t of a mind to go through with it. Her brother helped her escape while the men were driving the cattle to winter pasture, and now they want to hide her here.”

  “Here? Why here? The Lawrence ranch now adjoins the Diamond V.”

  “I know and that’s kind of the thought. Zane figured to hide her in the one place her father would never think to look … right under his nose.”

  “I wanted to share this letter with you as soon as I could. It came yesterday, but I was much too busy finishing some canning to see you,” Charity told Faith as they met in Faith’s parlor. “It seems things have taken a bad turn in Kansas. Dianne is quite angry. I believe she’s considering things that will only bring her further harm.”

  “Like what?” Faith asked as she tried to skim through the letter and carry on a conversation at the same time.

  “Like leaving Cole.”

  Faith’s head snapped up. “Leave her husband? That doesn’t sound like Dianne at all.”

  Charity nodded. “I fear she just might. She’s bitter, angry, and unhappy. I’ve never known Dianne to sit still for long in that kind of misery. I think we need to pray for her, Faith. Even Ben is worried.”

  “I have been praying, but I see what you’re saying. This letter doesn’t sound at all like our Dianne. Perhaps there are things entirely too painful for her to tell us on paper. We both know she wasn’t happy leaving Montana.”

  “We must agree to bathe this in prayer day and night. Ben will be praying and fasting on this—in fact, he started yesterday.” Charity paused and tears came to her eyes. “I fear for her … for her and the children. I even find myself burdened with sorrow for Cole.”

  “Poor man is caught between the devil and the desert,” Faith said sadly. “He loves Dianne, but she’s been unhappy with him since the ranch burned down. Now this. I’m sure he feels the situation is impossible.”

  “It feels impossible to me,” Charity admitted, “but I know God holds the future and all things are possible with Him.”

  “Are you sure this is the safe thing to do?” Mara asked Zane as they packed some things for Elsa in his saddlebags.

  “It’s the best we can hope for right now. Maybe after we’re married we can take her to live with us in Butte.”

  “You’d do that for her … for me?” Mara asked. The expression on her face revealed how deeply this had touched her heart.

  He shrugged. “It would be the right thing to do … or at least offer. Your sister will be my sister.”

  Mara went to him and embraced Zane tightly. “You are such a good-hearted man. I know we’ll be so very happy.”

  “If wishing would make it so,” he began, “then I’d know it too.”

  “Are we ready?” Elsa asked impatiently. “If we don’t hurry up, we might meet Father on the trail.”

  “Remember what I told you?” Zane asked. “You’re to take your bags and walk down the street to the freight yard, making sure that you’re well seen. Then you’ll get on one of the wagons leaving for Corrine. Hopefully the local gossips will talk about this enough to give your father the wrong impression of where you’ve gone.”

  Elsa nodded. “I’ll do it. I just think we’d better hurry or it’s not going to matter. He was due home from the cattle drive today.”

  “Yes, I know. I also know a few back roads and trails. He won’t find us, Elsa. I promise you that.”

  “If he does,” she warned, “he’ll shoot first and ask questions later.” She shook her head. “I take that back. He won’t ask questions at all.”

  Mara clung to Zane. “Please be careful. I worry for you.”

  “See what falling in love has done for you?” he teased.

  “It’s done more good than harm,” Mara replied. “I don’t see anything wrong with caring about a person’s well-being. I’ll be praying for you all the time you’re gone.” She rose on her tiptoes and he kissed her lightly on the mouth.

  “We’ll practice this some more when I get back,” he whispered in her ear.

  Mara blushed as Elsa came to her. “If Father shows up here, you’ll have to stall for time. Joshua will surely know what to do.”

  “We’ll be fine—don’t you worry.”

  “All right, Elsa,” Zane said. “Go get your things and take your walk. I’ll be heading out and maneuver around so I can meet up with you just south of town. I’ve instructed the men to wait with you until I get there.”

  He longed to kiss Mara again. He felt a brief sensation of worry as he realized how dangerous the trip could prove. If Chester and his boys had returned early to the ranch, they would be approaching town even now. “I’ll see you soon,” he told Mara, then mounted his horse.

  “I love you,” she said, unashamed.

  “I love you too.” It was the first time he’d spoken the words to her. It warmed his heart to see Mara break into a radiant smile. He knew she would always cherish this moment. But in truth, he would cherish it as well and fondly remember the day he had made Mara’s face light up in pure delight.

  CHAPTER 13

  “SHE’S GOING TO BE NOTHING BUT TROUBLE,” JAMIE SAID AS George introduced Elsa.

  “I beg your pardon?” the young woman responded. She glared at the nineteen-year-old. “I’ll have you know I’m quite capable of tending to my own needs. I’m certain I’ll not trouble you.”

  Jamie shook his head. “Women your age are always trouble.”

  George wanted to laugh out loud but didn’t. “Now, Jamie, that’s no way to treat our houseguest.” His nephew was a nononsense kind of man who liked things to stay even and routine. George had known bringing Elsa Lawrence to the ranch would be a risk to everyone, but he knew Jamie in particular wouldn’t take well to the idea.

  “She isn’t staying in our house. Ma’s put her in the Selby cabin.”

  “Nevertheless, she’s a guest on the ranch and needs our help. Her father can be pretty cruel; you know that fu
ll well.”

  “That’s what I said, she’s going to be trouble.” Jamie turned to go, hitting his dusty pant legs with his gloved hands.

  “You have no right to accuse me,” Elsa called after him. She stormed over to where he’d stopped and turned. “I’ll have you know that this wasn’t my idea. I’m not any happier to be stuck on this no-nothing ranch with you than you are to having me here. However, I’m in a fix and your family generously offered me the solution.” She was nearly nose-to-nose with Jamie, and George thought he’d never seen anything quite so funny.

  Jamie pressed his face toward Elsa’s. “I don’t care who invited you—you’re trouble and that’s just the way it is. Mark my words. There’s going to be more problems having you here than getting Montana into statehood.”

  “Oh!” Elsa barely gasped the indignant exclamation out. “Of all the … well … all the—”

  “Insults?” he asked smugly. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want old man Lawrence coming to hunt you down and causing trouble for my family. I don’t want to see my sister or my mother killed in the wake of one of your father’s tirades.”

  “Jamie, enough,” George declared. “Both of you stop acting like wild cats tied up in a bag. If all goes well, Mr. Lawrence isn’t going to know anything about Elsa being here. After all, why would she come here? It would make more reason for her to join her brother and sister in Virginia City. When Mr. Lawrence sees that she’s gone from there and hears the rumors of how she took a freight wagon south to Corrine, perhaps he’ll give up.”

  “But she didn’t take a freight wagon south to Corrine,” Jamie protested. “She came here.”

  George grinned. “Only after she was clearly seen riding a southbound freight wagon out of Virginia City.”

  Jamie shook his head. “I suppose I have no say in this. I’ve never had a say in anything.” He stomped off, causing the dust to rise.

  Elsa turned to George. “Is he always like this?”

  George nodded. “Sometimes he’s even rude.” They both broke into laughter.