Cole jumped down from the buggy, not even bothering to reset the brake. “You listen to me, little sister. If you do go to a lawyer and file charges against my wife or seek to get her forced into some kind of asylum, I’ll take my family and leave this state so fast you won’t know what happened.” He pointed his finger first at Laurel and then Cordelia. “Dianne may not be perfect. She may not even be cordial where you two and Ma are concerned, but I will not stand by and watch my wife, the mother of my children, end up in jail because of some concocted story.”
His sisters looked notably stunned by his statement. Cole didn’t care, however. He’d had it with their threats and attitudes.
“I mean it,” he said sternly before turning to climb back into the buggy. “You do anything to hurt Dianne, and I’ll leave with her. I’ll sell this farm and pack Ma off to one of you and never return again.”
“You’re not listening to reason,” Cole declared as he followed Dianne and the children down the stairs. The boys and Dianne each carried one of their bags, packed and ready for their train trip home. It was the most difficult decision Dianne had ever had to make. Each step she made tore at her heart. I’m really going. I’m leaving my husband. This isn’t right, but I can’t stay here. My children will suffer. Just yesterday Cordelia had slapped John full across the face for running in the hall.
“I have a hired carriage coming for us,” Dianne explained. “You needn’t worry about leaving the farm even to take us the short distance to the station.” Her tone was pure sarcasm. If she distanced herself enough—made herself mad enough—then the pain would be less, wouldn’t it?
“I don’t want you to go,” Cole said softly.
She turned. “I can’t stay. You know that. Your family desires me to leave.” She turned to the children. “Go outside and wait for the carriage. Let me know when it comes.” They walked solemnly out the door. Dianne’s heart pounded as she saw their looks of fear and sorrow.
“Please stay,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders. “I know this has been difficult, but you shouldn’t just run away like this.
Give it another chance. I’ve told my sisters to leave you alone. I’ve even spoken to Ma.”
“Give them another chance to hit my children—to blame them for things they didn’t do?” she questioned. “Give them another chance to blame me for things I didn’t do?”
“Dianne, I can’t help what happened.”
“No, but you could have reacted differently. You could have believed me. You could have acted on the grounds that I’ve never lied to you—that I’ve been faithfully true to you, even when it hurt or frightened me. But instead, you chose to misunderstand—to believe what your mother told you.”
“I thought I’d seen what happened,” he said, his voice pleading. “Please understand, I was wrong. Lia and John both told me what happened, and I figure Ma misunderstood the moment. She probably got worked up and lost her balance and—”
“Stop it!” Dianne said between clenched teeth. “Stop making excuses for her. She wasn’t confused. She knew full well what she was doing. Stop trying to make it right, because it will never be right. Your mother has done nothing but manipulate and deceive you since our arrival. I’ll pray that God opens your eyes before it’s too late, Cole, but I won’t stay another day in this house—this town—or even this state.”
“You could at least listen to reason,” he answered in frustration edged in anger.
“Like you listened to me when I tried to explain?”
“I told you I was sorry.”
“I hope you are,” she said without emotion. “I hope you regret your choices, because I do. You’ve been a changed man since the fire—since we lost the ranch. You’ve been brooding and closed up. I’ve tried to be a good wife, and I’ve made plenty of mistakes. But I’ve tried to seek your forgiveness, to confess my sins to you, and for what? For this?” she said, waving her free arm. “For deception and accusations? For nothing but disapproval and pain?” Tears came to her eyes, making her even more angry. She hated appearing weak. Cole was silent as she wiped her tears with the back of her gloved hand, but his expression had changed from angry to concerned.
“Dianne, look, we’ve both made mistakes. I just don’t want us to make another one.”
“I don’t either. Staying here another day would be a mistake—at least for me. Subjecting our children to cruelty and accusation would be damaging and definitely wrong. I have to protect them. Do you even realize they can’t sleep at night? Lia is so afraid her grandmother will sneak into the room and hurt her that she whimpers all night long. The boys are afraid to even play for fear one of your sisters will punish them.”
Cole nodded, much to her surprise. “Maybe you’re right,” he said with a sigh.
For a brief moment Dianne thought perhaps he would come with them. She was ready to offer to run upstairs and pack his things while he said good-bye to his mother. In her mind, she even deduced that they could trade in their train tickets and leave the following day, then stay the night in a hotel in Topeka, just long enough to let Cole meet with a lawyer and deed the farm back to his mother. But before she could speak on any of these things, he continued.
“Maybe it is best you take the children and go back to Montana. I don’t like families living apart, but I don’t want to see any of you hurt again. And I don’t want there to be any more opportunity for my sisters or mother to accuse you of wrongdoing.”
“A noble gesture,” she muttered. She clasped her bag more tightly and moved to the door.
“Dianne,” Cole said, reaching out to take hold of her bag. “Wait. Please understand, I’m not choosing them over you.”
“Funny, for that’s exactly how it feels.”
“But it’s not that way.”
Dianne looked into his face, hoping she’d find something there to convince herself that he was telling the truth. She wanted so much to believe that he still loved her the way he used to. But there was nothing there. Nothing but the memory of pain and misery. She had tried so hard to be what he asked of her. Now she had nothing left to give. The great emptiness inside of her had consumed all of her energy and strength.
“Mama! The man’s coming with the carriage!” Luke called out from the yard.
“I have to go,” Dianne said, tugging at the bag.
“I’ll carry this for you.” Cole gently pulled the bag from her grasp.
Rather than fight him, she hurried outside and helped her children into the carriage while the driver took their bags and stowed them in back.
“You children be good for your mama,” Cole admonished. “I’ll be home in the spring. It won’t be long—you’ll see.”
Dianne wondered how he could stay when all of his children were fighting back tears, longing for him to join them. She tried to harden her heart against the devastating pain, but it was no use. She had never hurt like this before, and she never wanted to hurt like this again. Let him stay, she told herself. Let him do what he will. I don’t care if he ever comes home. I won’t care—it hurts too much to care.
“I’ll see you soon,” he told Dianne as he helped her into the carriage. “You’ll see. I’ll take care of everything here and be home before you know it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure we’ll manage. We’re strong and capable,” she said, using his words against him. After all, that’s why he said he had to consider his mother’s needs over theirs. They were strong and capable, while his mother was weak and old. She shook her head and met his gaze one last time. Speaking more for herself than for him, she said, “We don’t need help. We’ll be just fine.”
It was the middle of the night when Cole awoke from a nightmare. He bolted straight up, panting, feeling the sweat clinging to his neck and his chest. He gasped for air, struggling to calm his breathing. The dream had been so vivid—so awful.
They were all gone. They had left him and he couldn’t find them. His children. His wife. Gone.
Reachin
g out beside him, Cole felt for Dianne. But the emptiness of the bed proved once again he’d not merely dreamed about a thing that could never be. He had only relived the nightmare that was his life.
They were gone.
She was gone.
The catch in his breath turned to a sob as he fell back against the bed. “Oh, God,” he pleaded in prayer, “what do you want me to do? What am I supposed to do now?”
CHAPTER 18
DIANNE SAT IN SILENCE WHILE HER CHILDREN CHATTERED about the images that passed by the train window. She had never been wearier of travel than in this moment. Even the wagon train journey back so many years ago had been simpler. No doubt it was because her heart had been joyful back then—expectant of the promising future to come. Now she just felt hopelessly empty. She tried to pray, but words wouldn’t come.
“Mama, when will we get there?” Luke asked. “The conductor said Corrine was the next stop.”
“Shouldn’t be long now,” Dianne said, stroking Lia’s silky hair. The girl had fallen asleep with her head on her mother’s lap, but even this didn’t offer the comfort Dianne so desperately longed for.
She had wired ahead for train tickets to Dillon. From there they would have to take the stage to Virginia City. She’d been promised seats but knew that if the weather had turned bad and snows had set in, they might very well be waiting a spell before they could reach home. She’d already determined that no matter how difficult, she would take the children straight to the ranch.
I’m not going to stay another minute in town, she had promised herself. I’ll buy supplies and I’ll see to it that we make it through without Cole.
“Mrs. Selby, isn’t it?” a man questioned from the aisle.
Dianne looked up to find Christopher Stromgren standing over her. “Good day, Mr. Stromgren. What brings you west?”
“Your sister, of course. Didn’t she tell you?”
Dianne shook her head. The man was dressed impeccably in navy blue, with a snug bowler hat on his head. The hat made him look rather comical, but she wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the way his dark red curls peeked out from under the covering. Maybe it was just that she was far too used to cowhands and their wide-brimmed hats. Even in Kansas she’d seen many of the same conventional hats she’d known in Montana.
“Ardith is scheduled to return with me to New York City. I have her concerts all arranged. She’ll make a tremendous amount of money, to be sure. I know she’ll be quite popular.”
“What of Winona, her daughter?” The boys had lost interest in the window and had come to observe the stranger.
“Is Aunt Ardith really going away?” Micah asked. “I’ve missed her piano playing.”
“As has the rest of the world,” Stromgren said enthusiastically. “Your aunt is a wondrous woman. She’ll soon be the toast of the town.”
“But what of her child?” Dianne asked again.
“As I understand it, she’s made arrangements for her daughter,” Stromgren said, sobering a bit. “In time, the girl might join her mother, but for now it wouldn’t be prudent. The schedule is grueling, and there’s no chance to hire a responsible companion for her on such short notice. Then there’s the concern of schooling. The child can hardly attend school on a regular basis and travel around the country.”
“I see.” Irritation mingled with apprehension, for her sister’s choice made Dianne even more uncomfortable with the man. She was relieved when the conductor came by to tell them the train would be pulling into the Corrine station in five minutes. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Stromgren. The children and I have another train to catch and not much time to make our way.”
“I’ll be traveling with you. After all, there aren’t too many other opportunities for getting to the Montana Territory. Allow me to make myself useful and assist you.” He glanced around, “Unless, of course, your husband would object.”
“My husband is in Kansas,” Dianne replied flatly. “Thank you for your help, but I’m sure we can manage.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Stromgren declared. “I’ll see to your luggage at the very least.”
Dianne didn’t have the energy to protest further. Her children were tired, and she was exhausted. Having been sick prior to leaving Kansas, she’d battled nausea all the way home. She was four months pregnant by her own calculations. She didn’t want to be pregnant, not now. She thought of Cole and knew she should have told him before she left. She’d meant to, but she didn’t want him returning to Montana simply because a baby was on the way. And she knew he would never have let her go alone if he’d known of her condition.
Mr. Stromgren was good to see them cared for. Dianne didn’t like what the man represented, but she couldn’t argue that his assistance hadn’t been superb. He’d even managed to locate box lunches for them all, much to the boys’ excitement. As they boarded the train for Dillon, she settled her three boys on one side, then took to the other side with Lia. She was relieved when Stromgren seated himself beside her sons rather than positioning himself beside her.
Before leaving Corrine, Dianne’s last point of business was to send a couple of telegrams. She wanted to let someone in Virginia City know that she’d be arriving soon so she could get some assistance in getting home. She’d truly wanted to get word to Koko and George, but there had been little chance for that. No doubt Ardith would think that her arrival would signal Dianne’s stay in the house there in Virginia City, but Dianne had already laid plans for her departure. The other wire spoke to Dianne’s determination to make the Diamond V a great ranch once again. She wrote to her Texas cattle people and requested five thousand head of prime beef be sent her way in the spring. She knew the decision had been made without Cole’s approval, but she no longer felt it was important to consult him. She seriously doubted he’d return in the spring. His mother was gifted with powerful persuasion, and it stood to reason that Mary Selby would somehow convince her son to remain on the farm.
Let him be a farmer if that’s his desire, Dianne thought as she gazed out the window. Tears trickled down her cheek, but she stopped them quickly, unwilling that her children should see her cry yet again.
I must be strong for them. I must be strong.
“She’s coming home without him?” Zane asked as he reread his sister’s telegram.
“That’s what it looks like,” Ardith replied. “It says ‘the children and I.’ There’s no mention of Cole.”
Zane tossed the paper down and shook his head. “That can’t be good. I can’t figure her leaving without a reason.”
“Maybe,” Mara said softly, “Cole thought it would be better for Dianne and the children to be here in Montana than in Kansas all winter.”
“It doesn’t sound like him,” Morgan threw in. “Cole isn’t one to see his family scattered to all parts.”
“No, he’s not,” Zane agreed. “I wonder if maybe he changed his mind about staying through the winter and just sent them on ahead. But that doesn’t seem right either. He would have been concerned about Dianne traveling by herself with the children. It’s mighty dangerous to have a woman going across the country by herself—not to mention it being poor thinking to put a mother by herself with four children. What if one of them gets sick? What if she gets sick?”
“Maybe she had all she could take and left him,” Ardith said matter-of-factly. “You’ve read her other letters. She was miserable. His mother and sisters treated her very poorly. I’m guessing she’s quit the whole thing.”
“Quit her marriage?” Zane asked.
“Maybe not that, but quit Kansas and the farm.” Ardith turned to bring the pot of coffee to the table. They had gathered casually in the kitchen, and little by little she had brought refreshments to the table for their consumption. The coffee was preceded by a fresh crumb cake that she’d intended to be a part of supper.
“It can’t be good that she’s coming back without Cole,” Morgan said before he stuffed a piece of cake into his mouth.
Zan
e poured himself a cup of coffee. “I agree. There’s no telling what she’ll have in mind once she’s here.”
“Well, I know you’re concerned about Dianne, but there’s something I must tell you. I haven’t kept you informed,” Ardith announced, “largely because I didn’t wish to be chastised or to have you try to talk me out of my plans.”
“What plans?” Zane asked.
She drew a deep breath and lifted her chin. “I’ll be leaving for New York as soon as Mr. Stromgren can escort me there. He should be here tomorrow or the next day at the latest.”
Zane looked to Morgan and then back to Ardith. “What? What are you talking about?”
“Yeah, what are you talking about?” Morgan asked.
Ardith met their surprised expressions. Even Mara looked stunned. “I’ve been speaking about this for weeks. Hasn’t anyone listened? I mean, I know I didn’t inform you that Mr. Stromgren was arriving soon, but you knew I’d been talking about going.”
“I figured you’d get it out of your head after a while,” Zane admitted. “You have a daughter to take care of. What about her?”
“I was going to send her to Koko. George is due to arrive any day now to pick her up. But since Dianne is coming home, I won’t have to send Winona to the Diamond V. She can simply stay here with her aunt.”
“But Winona needs her ma, not her aunt or anyone else. How can you just leave her like that?” Morgan asked.
Ardith fumed. “None of you knows anything about me. You don’t know what I’ve endured, and you don’t know what I have to live with. Apparently I have a gift for music.” She wasn’t about to credit God for the gift. Charity had suggested God had given her music as a means of soothing her in her time of loss, but Ardith wasn’t about to see it that way. God was the divine thief, robbing her of precious things, stealing away her youth, her husband, her joy. She drew a deep breath. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see to something.”
Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] Page 19
