Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04]

by The Hope Within

  Dianne was glad that September was over. The heat of Kansas had abated, and the nights were quite chilly. With the cooler weather, Lia’s asthma seemed to lessen in severity. She breathed easier and gained a little color back into her cheeks. That had done much to rally her spirits, but there was still the awful truth of facing a winter away from home. This, coupled with the fear that they might never return to Montana, continued to wedge itself between Dianne and Cole.

  Dianne was putting away the last of Cole’s freshly ironed shirts when he appeared at their door. She looked at the clock and noticed it was bedtime. “I didn’t figure to see you here this early.” She tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  “I know. I was hoping maybe we could have a sort of truce,” Cole said softly.

  Dianne looked at the hopefulness in his expression and her anger melted. “I’d like a truce.”

  Cole closed the bedroom door behind him. “I’d like to talk, if you feel up to it.”

  “I don’t want to fight,” she admitted. “I haven’t the energy for it.”

  “I’ve noticed you’re wasting away. It’s had me worried. I don’t remember ever seeing you this thin. Even Ma commented on how your clothes are just hanging on you.”

  Dianne started to react to that comment but forced her retort back down. “I’m sorry I’ve worried you, but it’s been very hard to care about food with so many other things on my mind.”

  “I know,” Cole said, nodding. He pointed to the chair across the room. “Why don’t you sit there and I’ll sit on the bed.”

  She went willingly to do as he suggested. She could tell he wanted very much to share his thoughts with her. It was the first time in a long, long while that he had made any move to open the lines of communication between them.

  “Dianne,” he began as he took his seat on the edge of the bed, “I’ve never meant to hurt you. I only wanted to do the right thing … to be a good man and care for those who needed me. I know you’re unhappy here. I know you were unhappy in Virginia City. I’m sorry on both accounts.”

  She sighed. “I know I didn’t make it easy on you. I feel like I spend so much of my time getting angry and repenting that little else gets done.”

  “My choices haven’t always been right … but, Dianne, I need to be the man of this family. My mother believes you to be interfering and dominating, and I know that is sometimes the case.” He held up his hand as she started to protest. “Please hear me out. I defend you constantly to my mother. You don’t hear it, I know, but I’m always telling her to stay out of it. I tell her you’re a good wife and mother, and I point out all the help you’ve been to her.”

  This took her by surprise. She honestly didn’t think he ever defended her to his family. She folded her hands together and allowed herself to ease back into the chair. “Go on.”

  “My mother has her way of doing things. She has always been the one to run our family. She was never satisfied with my father’s decisions, and she constantly undermined his authority. We children had little respect for our father because it was clear he had little respect for himself.” He looked up and met her gaze with an intense expression. “I can’t let that happen in my own family. I can’t see my boys raised to feel toward me what I felt toward my pa.”

  “I’ve never told the boys you were anything but a good man and father. Sometimes they don’t understand why you’ve turned away from us,” Dianne said. “In fact, sometimes they think you don’t love them anymore.”

  Cole frowned. “With my father’s death and then the harvest … it was hard to have much time for them. But now that winter is coming, it should be easier.”

  “But with winter coming, why can’t we just go home?” Her voice was soft, pleading. She didn’t want to anger her husband and break the tender truce, but the question had to be posed.

  “My mother needs us. I can’t just leave her. Dianne, can’t you see how torn I am? I know you want to go home. I know the children want to go home.” He got up and began to pace. “God knows I want to go home.”

  “You do?” She couldn’t help but ask. She’d honestly believed that he had come to think of this farm as his home.

  Cole stopped and looked at her with an expression that suggested disbelief. “Of course I want to go back. I don’t like it here any more than you do.”

  She felt tears come to her eyes. “You could have at least told me that. I might not have felt so alone then.”

  “It seems I tried to tell you at least a million times. But every time I started to share, you got mad at me and started arguing about leaving.”

  Again Dianne wanted to protest, but she held her tongue. The Lord was convicting her of the truth in his statement. She had been argumentative and harsh. She hadn’t wanted to hear a word he had to say on any matter, with exception to one, and that was when they would return home.

  “I’ve needed to talk to you about all of this, but I didn’t feel like I could. Ma demanded I talk to her, and while I try not to speak to her about things that concern you and me, she has a way of getting information out of me.”

  “She has a way of controlling everything she touches,” Dianne said, holding back any display of emotion.

  “She does indeed. I can’t argue with you that my mother is a very controlling woman. She has her thoughts and plans and doesn’t like anyone coming along to change them.”

  “But she’s cruel in the process.” Dianne couldn’t help but think of all the times Mary Selby had been horribly mean to Luke or Micah or John. Lia pretty much steered clear of her grandmother, choosing instead to hide behind Dianne’s skirts any time the woman came into the room, but the boys weren’t of such a mind. And because of this, they were always paying the price.

  “Do you have any idea,” Dianne began, “how she treats your sons?”

  He drew a deep breath and went back to sit on the bed. “No. Why don’t you tell me about it.”

  “They can do no right. If your sisters’ kids are here, it’s obvious that your mother loves them and desires to spend time with them. She barely even speaks to our boys except to reprimand or criticize. The other day, Micah brought home some art from school. He’d drawn a picture of the ranch, even though he could only remember it from our visits out there in the last couple of years. Your mother told him it was a foolish thing, that boys his age should not be given to drawing and wasting their time, but rather they should be learning to work at their father’s side.”

  “She said that?” Cole questioned. “Why would she do that?”

  Dianne shrugged. “There’s so much more than that. She tells them their manners are atrocious, that their beds are never made correctly, though why she concerns herself with that when I am seeing to it, I’ll never know. She tells them their posture is bad, that their hair is unkempt, that they chew too loudly. She constantly criticizes their endeavors. John and Micah set the table the other day and your mother spent fifteen minutes chastising them for placing the silverware too close to the plate.”

  Cole’s face took on a blank look. “I had no idea.”

  Dianne felt sorry for him and softened her heart even further. “She continues to believe Lia is somehow inventing her illness, even though the child is much better and rarely has an attack these days. Seems to me if Lia were doing it for attention, we’d still be dealing with her coughing fits and inability to breathe.” Dianne realized she shouldn’t limit this conversation to the wrongs done her by Cole’s mother. “We’re coping with everything, but we miss you and we miss home.”

  He nodded. “Dianne, I never meant for this to happen. I figured we’d come here, see my father before he died, and then leave after the funeral. I honestly didn’t set out to keep you from your mountains … from Montana.”

  She saw the sorrow clearly written on his face. “I know,” she whispered. “I know, too, that I said things that implied otherwise. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to. I promised Ma we’d be
here through the winter. She constantly tries to bring up issues related to spring, but I promise you I reject discussion of anything to do with spring and the planting that will come. Instead, I try my best to talk her into selling the place or at least hiring a full-time man.”

  “Can she afford a man to work here?”

  “She should be able to offer one room and board. There’s a nice room off the back of the barn. I could easily set it up for someone to live in. Wouldn’t take much work at all. I suggested it to her, but she said she needs me. I feel so bad for her. I know she’s got to be grieving, but I can’t take my father’s place in her life.”

  Dianne felt the first inklings of optimism since coming to Kansas. “As long as you realize that, I have hope. Hope that wasn’t there even moments ago.”

  “It’s what I’ve tried to tell you over and over. I don’t plan for us to stay here, no matter what you hear my mother say. Sometimes I let her ramble because I don’t want to fight with her. If I start fighting, she’ll just find ways to make me feel even more guilty, and I’m bearing all I can right now.”

  Dianne got up and went to where Cole sat. She reached out and touched his face with her hand. He placed his hand over hers and pressed it tight to his cheek. “I’m sorry for the anger and lack of love. I do love you. You must know that.”

  He looked up and pulled her onto his lap. Cradling her against him, he breathed into her hair and sighed. “I’ve longed for you. I’ve needed so much to find refuge in your arms. You have no idea what this separation of bitterness has done to me.”

  “If it’s been half as destructive to you as it’s been to me,” she said, choking back tears, “then you must be devastated.”

  He stood, lifting her in his arms. “You are my life … my love. I cannot stand for things to be as they have been. I cannot live with barriers between us.”

  She nuzzled her mouth against his ear and whispered, “Let there be nothing between us but the love God always intended.” She didn’t even bother to wipe away her tears as they fell against his face and neck. As Cole began kissing her with a passion that had been missing for so very long, Dianne seriously doubted he was even aware of her tears … or of anything else but the overwhelming emotion of the moment.

  Dianne went about her morning chores with great gusto and enthusiasm. She had spent a wondrous night with her husband, and the love they had shared had renewed her will to live … to fight for what was hers and hers alone.

  The boys and Lia noted the difference as she readied them for school. They seemed to absorb her joy, and for the first time she could remember, they went out the door with smiles on their faces and exuberant talk about what the day would bring. Even Lia seemed content to work at cleaning up their room and making the beds while Dianne finished the breakfast dishes.

  Humming to herself, Dianne thanked God for the peace that had been made between herself and Cole. It was hard to believe how much time had passed since she’d really prayed.

  I’m sorry, Lord. I’m sorry for being so distant. I’m still frightened about the future—I can’t lie. She wiped out the cast-iron skillet and oiled it with a bit of bacon grease to ready it for later use. Please help me, Father. I know things haven’t changed with Mary. I don’t know how to deal with her.

  As if on cue the woman stormed into the kitchen. “What kind of lies have you been telling my son?”

  Dianne stared at the woman in dumbfounded silence. She put the skillet down lest the temptation to throw it across the room grow too strong. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You vicious little hussy. You think to turn him away from me, but you have another think coming.” Mary’s pinched face loomed threateningly in front of Dianne. “I know what you hope to accomplish, but you cannot win. I won’t give up this fight.” She pressed her finger into the middle of Dianne’s chest. “You are nothing to me. Your brats are nothing to me. But Cole is my son and I need him. I will not allow you to divide my family by stealing him back to that godforsaken land you call Montana.”

  Mary turned to leave the room, and Dianne struggled to find some composure for her thoughts. She wanted to say something harsh to hurt the woman as much as she had hurt Dianne. But at the same time, thoughts of Cole’s tenderness and love from the previous night buffered her from the worst of Mary’s attack. God can make this right, Dianne thought.

  “I know He can make this right,” she whispered.

  “What was that?” Mary asked, whirling on her heel at the doorway.

  Dianne smiled. “I said God can make this right.”

  Mary laughed and sneered. “To be sure He can. He has a way of dealing with sinful women like you.”

  CHAPTER 14

  DIANNE DIDN’T KNOW HOW SHE MANAGED TO KEEP HER mouth shut, but she said nothing as Mary stormed from the room. Later that afternoon, Cole’s sisters showed up, and before Dianne could realize what was happening, they had congregated with their mother in the kitchen, where Dianne was baking cookies. It was to be war, and Dianne quickly realized she was the enemy.

  “Why can’t you just mind your own business?” Cordelia began. She was careful to avoid the counter where Dianne was working, turning her nose up at the mess of dough and greased pans.

  Dianne looked to each woman and was about to comment on this strange assault when Laurel narrowed her eyes and said, “You have been nothing but heartache to this family. I’m sickened by the way you treat my mother.”

  “She’s mourning the loss of our father and yet you constantly go out of your way to further the wound by suggesting Cole desert her,” Cordelia interjected.

  Dianne wanted to give them all a piece of her mind. She wanted to lash out with cruel words and bitter regard, but instead she prayed silently and offered them cookies. “I’ve a fresh batch just out of the oven. They should be cool by now,” she said, indicating a tray that sat on the windowsill.

  “Haven’t you heard a word we’ve said?” Laurel questioned.

  Dianne turned back to face them and folded her hands in front of her. “If you truly wish to address this matter, I will discuss it. However, I would point out to each of you that I seriously doubt if you were in my position that you would take kindly to such an attack.”

  “But they aren’t in your position,” Mary Selby countered. “They are respectful wives who are obedient to their husbands.”

  “And how, Mother Selby, would you say I’ve been disobedient to my husband?”

  Mary puffed up, seeming only too happy with such a question. “You’ve done nothing but make demands of him from morning until night. You question his decisions and chastise him for his choices. Since deciding to stay here and help me, a good and respectable thing if ever there was one, you’ve grieved him by demanding to return to Montana.”

  “That’s right. I’ve heard you,” Cordelia said. “We’ve heard you.” She looked to her sister for confirmation. Laurel nodded.

  “What transpires between me and my husband has little to do with any of you. What I have seen is that you three have purposefully gone out of your way to make me feel unwelcome and make my children feel as if they were unimportant.”

  “A good Christian wife would do as she’s instructed,” Mary said. “The Bible says you are to be obedient to your husband. An obedient wife is not one who questions her husband when he instructs her to do things a certain way.”

  Dianne knew the verses on wifely obedience as well as anyone. She had been convicted on several occasions for not being more openly cooperative with Cole’s desires. Still, her pride wasn’t about to confess this to his mother.

  “You have done nothing but try to hurt our mother since coming here,” Laurel said, sneering down her nose at Dianne. Her dark blue gown with its tailored jacket and bustle seemed far too elaborate for kitchen talk. Laurel hadn’t even bothered to remove her bonnet or gloves and appeared more ready for a ladies’ social than arguing.

  “I’m sure you ladies might feel better,” Dianne sa
id, forcing herself to remain cheerful, “if you were to partake of some refreshments. Why don’t you go into the sitting room, and I will bring you tea.”

  “We aren’t here for tea,” Cordelia snapped. “We’re here for resolution.”

  Dianne nodded. “I would very much like resolution myself. You see, I disagree with your notion that I’ve been trying to hurt your mother. Despite your mother’s lack of civility toward me and my children, I’ve taken over most of the work that she previously held responsibility for. Is that not true, Mother Selby?”

  The old woman stammered, obviously surprised by this approach. “Well … that is to say—”

  Cordelia patted her mother’s arm. “Do not worry yourself with such matters, Mother. It’s only fitting that she take on the chores. It’s her little monsters who make the biggest messes and cause such destruction.”

  “I beg your pardon. My children have done no harm to this house or to your mother. They have worked alongside me to ease the burden.”

  “But you disagree with your husband’s desire to stay here,” Cordelia argued.

  “But it isn’t my husband’s desire to stay here,” Dianne countered. “He told me as much last night.” She felt her prideful nature rearing and fought to control her anger.

  “How dare you lie about such a matter,” Mary Selby said, stepping forward. “My son has told me over and over that he would love nothing more than to remain here farming in his father’s stead. It’s your lack of willingness—obedience—that grieves him and causes him pain.”

  “‘Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord,’ ” Laurel said with an authoritative air.

  “Exactly,” Mary said. “And it further states, ‘For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church.’ ”

  Dianne was rapidly losing her struggle to contain her emotions. “It also says, ‘Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish. So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church: for we are members of his body, and of his flesh, and of his bones.’ ” She lowered her voice for emphasis and continued, “ ‘For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and the two shall be one flesh.’ ” Dianne drew a deep breath and set her jaw.