Koko smiled. “You’ll be glad you did. There’s nothing to be gained by keeping Cole from the truth.”
Dianne laughed bitterly. “I tried so hard to get Cole to see the truth, but it was as if he were blind. I doubt this letter—this news of a child—is going to change anything. There are already four children here who didn’t change his mind about coming home.”
CHAPTER 20
“THE REAL BEAUTY OF THIS CITY IS IN THE ARCHITECTURE,” Christopher Stromgren told Ardith. “Changes are happening all the time, and New York is growing at a rapid pace. Why, just a few decades ago you wouldn’t have seen this area developed at all. Now there are a growing number of buildings and new businesses.”
They were on their way to an early Christmas party. As Christopher had proven to Ardith, it was a time of social festivities that would leave them with little time to grow bored. Ardith had been whisked from one party to another between her performances, each more glamorous than the one before.
She couldn’t even remember the names of the people who were throwing tonight’s affair. She only knew that Christopher was quite impressed with their total capital and social standing.
“If you are asked to play,” he said, moving on to other topics, “you must agree. But play only one song. They will ask for more, but I will step in and then promote your upcoming concert.”
“That seems rather impolite,” Ardith said. “After all, it is a party.”
“True, but these are the very kind of people we hope to draw. They are from old money, as are their friends. Some are even related to royalty in Europe. Imagine for yourself what that might mean.”
The cold was beginning to numb Ardith’s gloved fingers. She rubbed her hands together. “I’m not sure what that would mean.”
“It would mean traveling to Europe. Possibly to play for kings and queens.”
“I can’t go to Europe. I have a daughter to raise. I only agreed to come and give this a try. If it proves to be something that I find I’m unwilling to give up, then I must send for Winona.”
Christopher sighed. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”
“What? Is something wrong? Has word come from Montana?” she asked, growing worried.
“No, not at all. I merely wanted to discuss the matter of Winona and her heritage. You wished for your past—your time with the Indians—to remain untold. I can hardly do that with an Indian child at your side. Do you understand?”
Ardith considered his words for a moment. “I suppose I do. But I cannot leave her there forever. I am her mother and she needs me.”
“Of course,” he said, almost laughing. “No one means for you to never see her again. Oh, good, here we are. Now remember all that I’ve told you. You must conduct yourself in such a manner as not to offend.”
Ardith nodded and allowed him to help her from the carriage. She was glad the snow had been cleared away from the walk. The delicate slippers she wore were no benefit against the snow.
At the door they were met by a reserved looking man in a dark suit. He took the engraved invitation that Christopher offered and their wraps. He handed the invitation to one man and the coats to another.
“Come this way,” the servant commanded. He took them up two flights of stairs, then handed their invitation to yet another impeccably dressed man.
Ardith was breathless from the climb. Her corset was much too tight, but it was necessary in order to do up the buttons on the burgundy velvet gown she wore.
“Mr. Christopher Stromgren and Mrs. Ardith Sperry,” the servant announced as they were ushered into the room of party guests.
Ardith was amazed at the way the entire ballroom had been transformed into a feast for the eyes. Holiday greenery had been draped in massive boughs from one end of the room to the other. These were then trimmed in bright red and gold bows. At one end of the room, a Christmas tree, so large it must surely have been difficult to force indoors, stood with lighted candles dripping onto red circular bases.
“Mr. Stromgren, we are so delighted you could come this evening and bring Mrs. Sperry,” a woman bedecked in green silk began. “I have so longed to meet this new star of yours.”
Christopher bowed and turned to Ardith. “Mrs. Ressler, I would like you to meet Mrs. Ardith Sperry.”
Ardith smiled as the woman assessed her. “I’m pleased to be here and to meet you.”
“I’m sure you are. Perhaps later you will grace us with some of your music.”
“Perhaps she will,” Stromgren interjected, then turned to Ardith with a wink. Mrs. Ressler looked as if she would like to continue the conversation, but instead nodded and took herself off to the next guests being announced.
“Her husband is a drinker. He’ll most likely make an appearance later, after he’s returned from his men’s club.”
“How odd that he shouldn’t be at her side.”
“New York and its society is hardly like that of Montana. Money sets the rules, and if you have enough of it you can do most anything you like.”
“Except have your daughter by your side,” Ardith murmured.
Christopher looked at her oddly. “Remember, you are the one who wished to keep your secret regarding the Sioux. Not I.”
He was right of course, but it offered no comfort to Ardith. She couldn’t put the image of Winona’s tear-streaked face from her mind. She had arranged to send her daughter some beautiful Christmas presents, including a lovely doll and several new dresses, but Ardith was certain they would mean little to Winona. She had severed a precious tie with her daughter, and despite feeling the necessity of it, Ardith was certain she’d long regret it.
As Christmas approached, Cole was beside himself with worry over Dianne. He’d heard nothing from her, and even the telegram he’d sent to her in Virginia City had gone unanswered. November had proven a battle of wills with heavy snows setting in around the middle of the month. Blizzards were not uncommon for the prairies or the mountains, but these snows seemed almost unnatural in their intensity and plunging temperatures.
Glancing upward to the night skies, Cole grimaced at the hazy condition. It was almost as if a thin veil had been placed between earth and the stars. It had been like that for several nights and always seemed to precede another bad snow.
“Cole, it’s too cold to stand out there gawking. Come back in here,” his mother commanded.
He went in against his better judgment, knowing that she would probably just berate him for missing his family. “I think it’s going to snow again,” he said as he hung his coat on the peg by the back door.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” his mother said, pouring him a cup of coffee. “Sit down and drink this. I’ve also got a couple of leftover doughnuts. I can warm them if you like.”
“No, thanks. I’m really not hungry.”
“You have to stop moping around,” she admonished. Turning, she frowned and practically slammed the coffee down in front of him. “She isn’t worth it.”
“If you’re going to talk badly about Dianne, I’m going to bed,” he said, starting to get up.
His mother motioned him to stay put. “If she loved you—truly cared for you, she would have written by now. She would have told you that she’d made it home safely. I think you should consider the truth.”
“Which is what—at least by your standards?”
Mary Selby sat down across from him. “She’s made her choice. She’s taken the children and left. By all legal standards that would constitute desertion. I think you should obtain a divorce and see the thing done.”
“Divorce?” Cole couldn’t believe she was suggesting such a thing. “You lived for years in a miserable marriage and never once attempted a divorce.”
“I couldn’t have afforded a divorce,” his mother replied bitterly. “Hallam never sent us much money when he was away, and what little I could earn we used for our existence. A divorce was never possible because of the cost involved. Otherwise, I probably would have jumped at
the chance.”
“But what of your reputation? You know how it would be looked at—how the church would see it. You wouldn’t have been accepted in many social circles had you divorced Pa. Besides, Pa returned and tried to make things right. You had a good life together here in Kansas—you said so yourself. Divorce wasn’t the answer for you.”
“But we aren’t talking about me,” his mother replied flatly.
“Well, we certainly aren’t talking about me.” Cole drank nearly half the cup of coffee and then toyed with the cup as he continued. “I’ve been giving some thought to what needs to be done with the farm.” He hoped a change of subject would get his mother’s mind off of Dianne and divorcing.
“Good. There are a lot of repairs and improvements we could make,” she said, folding her hands on the table. “Of course, Hallam never had enough money for some of the things he wanted to do, but I can tell you all about them, and we can work from there.”
“I’m not talking about repairs and improvements,” Cole said, fixing his gaze on his mother. He put the coffee cup down. “I’m talking about selling the farm.”
“I won’t hear any of it. Not with Christmas but two days away. Your sisters and their families will be with us, and it will be a grand celebration. We can talk after that.” She got up and marched from the room without another word.
Cole was surprised by her actions. Generally speaking, his mother wasn’t one to back down from a fight. Maybe this time she knew she was defeated and merely wanted to delay the event.
Christmas wasn’t a grand celebration for Cole. It passed, in fact, in relative disgust and frustration. Cordelia and Laurel were spoiled wives, with equally spoiled children. Cole had no idea when his mother had had time to shop for gifts, but she lavished her grandchildren with one bauble after another. When he offhandedly asked if she’d purchased gifts for his children, his mother had turned away, muttering something about there being no sense in it.
It was little things that bothered him as he watched his mother and sisters. They seemed not to consider his feelings at all in regard to his family. They didn’t appear to even think that he might be especially lonely for them at Christmas. It was actually the first Christmas he hadn’t spent with his children … with Dianne. But when he did say something about missing them, during Christmas dinner, his mother immediately changed the subject.
Now that the new year had come, Cole couldn’t help but wonder what 1887 would hold in store. He was more determined than ever to get home again, but at the same time, he wondered if he’d even be welcome there.
She should have written something. She should have at least responded to my telegram. But maybe her silence was a response. Maybe it was the only response she intended him to have.
“I’m glad you stopped by, Cole,” Ralph Brewster greeted a couple of weeks later.
Ralph was the neighbor who owned the farm just north of the Selby farm. He had indicated at church that he might be open to a proposition from Cole regarding the place.
“Glad you had time to talk.”
“Ruth has made us some cake and coffee. Want some?”
“I’d love some. It’s mighty cold out there.” Cole smiled at the stocky Kansan. The man was in his midthirties, and something about him told Cole he could be a good friend. He didn’t seem at all to care about the gossip that went around the church concerning Dianne and the children. His own two boys had played happily with Cole’s boys, but only at school. They were never allowed to come over to the farm, because Cole’s mother didn’t like there to be too much noise. Cole hadn’t learned about this until after the children had gone back to Montana. It was one more thing that seemed to support Dianne’s comments about how she and the children were being treated.
“We don’t stand on ceremony in this house,” Ralph told Cole. “We’ll just sit in the kitchen. It’s warmer there. Ruth has some sewing to do, so she’ll be busy in the other room.”
“That sounds fine,” Cole replied. “I’ve always liked sitting in the kitchen.” He took the chair offered him by Ralph and waited while the man brought the coffee and mugs to the table. Ruth’s promised cake was already cut and sitting on two plates, ready to be devoured. Cole had to admit it looked delicious. He and his mother had not eaten nearly as well since Dianne had gone back to Montana. He missed her cooking.
“I was intrigued by your comments Sunday,” Ralph said, pouring them each a cup of the steaming liquid.
“Well, truth be told, with this crazy winter we’ve been having, I figured I had time to get this situation planned out.”
“Did you hear about the areas to the west? Montana, Wyoming, and the Dakotas have already been buried in one snow after another. Now it’s spread to Kansas, Colorado, and Nebraska. Doesn’t look to be letting up anytime soon. My brother tells me a wire came from Cheyenne saying the storms are heading into their eighth day without sign of stopping. They’re afraid the telegraph lines will go down any moment.”
“I didn’t know it was that bad there. It’s been bad enough around these parts. That would explain …” He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t want Ralph to know that Dianne hadn’t written. “Well, anyway,” Cole picked up, “I’m glad I don’t have a lot of cattle to worry over.”
“I’d say.” Ralph took his seat and picked up his cup. “There’s already reports of hundreds of deaths, both human and animal. The temperatures will probably drop and then we’ll really be in for a time. Won’t be a chance for ranchers to get feed out to those beasts.”
“No, probably not.”
“Makes me glad I’m a farmer.” Ralph blew out a deep breath. “I surely don’t envy those that have livestock.”
“It’s never easy,” Cole admitted. “We used to move our cattle to winter pastures—places of open range fairly close to our ranch—to avoid heavy mountain snows and such. Now much of the land is being bought up and people are starting to fence it off. I doubt seriously too many Montanans are going to take to barbed wire.”
“Sure is necessary down here. Of course, this is a state where farming and ranching go hand in hand.”
Cole nodded. “There are places like that in Montana as well. Still, it’s too wild for most to make a decent living. Like I said, I’m glad I don’t have cattle herds this winter. The losses will no doubt be outrageous if everything you’ve said proves true.”
Ralph pushed a plate of the cake toward Cole. “Try this. It’s been passed down in Ruth’s family for ages. She calls it her chocolate cheer.” He laughed. “I have to admit it always cheers me when she makes it.”
“It looks great.” He forked in a mouthful and gave his approval. “It is great.”
Ralph leaned forward as if to share a secret. “I like to put mine in a bowl and pour milk over it most of the time.”
Cole laughed. “Well, feel free to do just that. Don’t think you have to be fancy on my account.”
“Nah, it’s good enough like this … for now.” Ralph took several large bites, nearly devouring his piece before continuing to talk. “So tell me about your proposition.”
Cole swallowed and drank down some coffee before he opened the conversation. “You know I inherited my dad’s place.” Ralph nodded and Cole continued. “You also know I have the ranch in Montana to be responsible for. I need to get back as early in the spring as I can.”
“The way it’s snowing you may have to wait until July,” Ralph joked.
The thought pierced Cole’s heart. He’d been worried about getting home ever since the really bad blizzard just after Christmas. Now with Ralph’s news about the ongoing storms in Montana and Wyoming, Cole seriously wondered if he would be able to get home before May or June.
“Here are my thoughts,” Cole finally continued. “I know Ma wants to stay on the farm, but I can’t remain here indefinitely. I’m thinking a hired man could come and stay at the farm and help with odd jobs, milking and tending the few animals, as well as helping with the farming. That’s where you would c
ome in. I’d like you to consider farming my father’s place. I’d give you half the profit and hire the man to help when you needed it—like in planting and harvesting. The other half of the profit would have to go to my mother.”
“That’s mighty generous,” Ralph said. “I have to admit, I’ve been itching to expand, but I don’t have the income for such a jump. This would allow me to make a little extra money; maybe I could save it for more land.”
“I think the soil is rich. We had a decent profit from last year, and that was during a drought. I can’t begin to think of what it’ll be like when these snows melt and replenish the water tables.”
Ralph finished his coffee and poured himself another cup. “Would you consider one more thing?” he asked, putting the cup aside momentarily.
“Sure, Ralph. What is it?”
“Would you agree in writing to give me first chance at the place if you decide to sell?”
Cole laughed. “You read my mind. I only plan to keep the farm as long as my mother insists on living there. Frankly, I’d be glad to sell it to you now if we could make some agreement to that effect.”
“I think we probably could, but again, I don’t have the capital it would require to make an outright purchase. And I already owe the bank for improvements on my place. I don’t think I could get any more money.”
“I’m not in need of money,” Cole said, realizing the only thing he truly needed couldn’t be bought: his wife’s trust and love. “I think we could work out payments. Yearly, after the crops were brought in.”
“Well, this is like Christmas all over again,” Ralph said, slapping the table. “Wait’ll Ruth hears. Oh, and don’t fret yourself with finding a hired man. Ruth’s brother has been itchin’ to get out here from Indiana. I think he’d be mighty glad to come and work for your ma.”
God always seemed to have a way of working things out. Cole felt a peace settle on his shoulders like a warm woolen coat. He could finally see hope in his situation. “I think that sounds fine. Go ahead and arrange for him to come. I’ll even pay for his train ticket.”
Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] Page 22
