Dianne shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Faith reached out and patted Dianne’s shoulder. “Honey, you need to decide if you’re going to go through life blaming yourself and letting others blame you for your father’s death. You can’t change everyone’s heart on the matter, but you can change your own. And in doing so, you may help them to see it in a different way.”
“I’ll never change Mama’s heart. She’ll always blame me.”
“She has to make her own choices. Give her time. When she sees that you’ve turned a page, maybe she’ll be willing to do likewise.”
Dianne nodded. She saw Malachi returning with the oxen and realized she’d spent way too much time with Faith. “Oh, goodness. The day’s getting away from me. I best get back to the wagon and see what Ma might need from me before we start moving again.”
Both women got to their feet. Dianne dusted off her dress, then searched around for her sunbonnet. It was nowhere to be found.
“Did I bring my bonnet when I came?”
“I don’t recall seeing it,” Faith said. “Guess sitting here in the shade of the wagon, I wasn’t too worried about it.” She smiled and motioned toward the river. “Maybe that old snake’s wife is wearing it. You’d best go back and see if you left it by the water.”
Dianne laughed. “I’ll bet that’s exactly what I did.”
But her search of the riverbank turned up nothing. Defeated, she hurried back to the wagon and began to gather the lunch dishes. Already her brothers were hitching the oxen. A quick check on her mother found Griselda gone and her mother sleeping peacefully. Dianne decided against waking her. She’d just save her lunch and see if she wanted it later.
“You forgot this,” a deep voice said as Dianne rushed around the corner of the wagon.
She stopped abruptly to keep from running into Cole Selby. She looked at the bonnet he twirled on his finger. Snatching it away from him, she pulled it on.
“Thank you.” She knew her reply was curt and unfriendly, but she couldn’t help it. He made her feel completely incompetent.
“I noticed earlier that your skirt looked a little scorched. Been standing too close to the fire again?” he baited.
His comment infuriated her and Dianne might have given him a piece of her mind, but Levi Sperry, Charity and Ben Hammond’s ward, came into camp just then.
“Afternoon, Miss Dianne. Miz Charity thought you might be needin’ some extra biscuits.” He extended the pan and smiled.
Dianne thought him a sweet boy—close to her own age and such a gentle spirit. “Thank you. How kind.”
Levi blushed and looked to the ground. He had a stocky, muscular build with ebony hair that fell casually over his left brow as he bent his head.
“Why, you’re her knight in shining armor,” Cole said with a laugh. “The family might well starve to death if left solely to Miss Chadwick’s care. She has a habit of setting herself on fire, as you will note by studying the hem of her skirt.”
“Oh!” Dianne exclaimed. She stepped forward to give Cole a piece of her mind, but already he was stalking away, his long legs covering the distance quickly. “That man makes me so mad. He’s so rude! He doesn’t care what he says or how it sounds.”
“I wouldn’t give him no mind, Miss Dianne. Men like him don’t care what other people think.”
She looked at the young man and nodded. He had a sweet face with dark brown eyes and thick black lashes. They seemed almost unnatural on a man, but Levi appeared no less masculine for their presence. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“Say,” Levi said, suddenly seeming less shy, “have you heard the news?”
“I haven’t heard much of anything news-wise for many days.”
“They’ve changed the name of the territory where Virginia City is located. They’re calling it Montana now. It’s a brand-new territory because so many people are settling in up there and they need more law and such.”
“Montana.” Dianne tried the name, wondering at the meaning of it.
“Reverend Ben says it comes from the Spanish word for mountains. He says we’ll see plenty of those once we get farther west.”
“I like the name,” Dianne replied. “I think Montana sounds just fine.”
June 1864
R
AINS FROM THE WEEK BEFORE HAD SWOLLEN THE PLATTE RIVER
at Julesburg, leaving it impossible to cross. For three days, the travelers had waited impatiently, with several of the members trying to risk a crossing. The acts of bravery, however, were to no avail. The churning brown waters simply refused to allow passage.
Dianne didn’t mind the delay. She was tired—weary of the constant routine—and desperate for something to break the monotony. She did take the opportunity to ride her horse and get better acquainted with the mare’s needs. Dolly was a good-tempered buckskin whose mood seemed to alter to match her rider. If Dianne was feeling sad or overwhelmed, Dolly appeared to be more sedate. If Dianne felt an exuberance that left her giddy with excitement, Dolly picked up on that as well. They were a good match, Dianne decided. She’d overheard Cole Selby say that a horse and rider needed to belong to each other. Dianne figured that’s how it was with Dolly as she fell more in love with the animal.
The delay along the Platte also allowed for overhauling the wagons and giving the animals the extra care that the trail didn’t allow for. The rains had stopped and the cool weather had passed. Only a week before they were worried about snow, as the evenings had been so very cold. Now the temperatures were on the rise and it was quite comfortable to work outdoors.
The wagon master and his men took advantage of the suspension of travel to further inform the travelers about the troubles they would encounter west of Julesburg. Namely, Indians. Rumor had it that Indians had been sighted just downriver from where the wagon train had passed earlier. The word came via a post rider, but he couldn’t tell the wagon master if they were friendlies or a war party.
To be on the safe side, Daniel Keefer set up training sessions where he taught the men how to properly take cover and fire their weapons at the same time. Dianne watched from a distance because only the men were allowed to be involved. She found the process fascinating and began to wonder at the perils they might meet in the weeks to come.
So far the Indians had been few and far between. From a distance they’d seen a few peaceful convoys—even one hunting party. It was as close as Dianne cared to come. Her mother had her positively terrified with tales of people being caught by the Indians, of their scalps being removed and kept as trophies, of unspeakable things done to women. Where her mother had heard these tales it was hard to say. Dianne guessed Griselda Showalter was probably to blame for some of the commotion, but everyone was edgy.
To Dianne’s great joy, her mother’s health appeared to return. Susannah Chadwick seemed more like her old self as she moved about the camp, fussing over Betsy’s sniffles and Ardith’s messy appearance.
“I swear you look like vagabonds,” their mother declared as she worked to rebraid Ardith’s hair. “A lady must always see to her appearance. Even on the trail in the middle of nowhere.”
Dianne had to smile at this. They all had that same look to them. There wasn’t a person traveling the plains who didn’t wear at least a pound of dirt from day to day. Reverend Hammond joked that during his daily trek he’d eat so much dirt that he rarely needed supper.
“Dianne, I’m going to take the girls and go visiting. Since the laundry is done, why don’t you start our supper? I’m sure that will keep you busy for a time.”
Dianne wasn’t sure why her mother was worried about keeping her busy, but Dianne had already seen to supper. She’d gotten rather good at planning ahead of time, and when the Hammonds offered her a small hunk of fresh venison, Dianne jumped at the chance to put together something special for supper. A fresh meat stew was already cooking and wouldn’t need her attention for hours.
She said nothing about it, however, as her mother walked away with Dianne’s sisters. Dianne wanted the time to visit with Faith. It was a defiance of her mother’s wishes, but Dianne couldn’t help it. Faith was her only real friend out here on the prairie. Besides, Faith was going to teach Dianne about making cobbler in the Dutch oven. Surely even her mother would be pleased with the results.
After washing up, Dianne filled a large jar with milk. They had more than they could use and generally they sold or traded it to keep from having to throw it away. Faith would enjoy the treat.
Dianne made small talk as she passed by other members of the wagon train. One woman asked if she’d heard when they might cross the river.
“I haven’t heard anything today, but if I get any news, I’ll let you know on my way back,” Dianne replied. The woman, who had three small children clinging to her skirts, nodded.
“I’d be much obliged.”
“Dianne,” a gentle voice called, “how’s your mother today?”
She looked to her right to see Mrs. Hammond waving. Dianne hated the delay in reaching Faith, but she liked Mrs. Hammond and appreciated the older woman’s concern.
“Mother is doing much better. I think this rest has done her a lot of good.” Dianne smiled and nodded as Levi came to stand beside Mrs. Hammond.
“Hello, Miss Dianne.”
“Hello,” Dianne said softly. She suddenly felt ill at ease in his presence.
“Levi has been a tremendous help to Mr. Hammond and me. I don’t know what we’d have done without him when the wagon got stuck.” Levi blushed furiously.
“It’s always good to have an extra hand,” Dianne replied, not knowing what else to say.
“I’m sorry he had to be orphaned but grateful the good Lord put us all together. Levi wants to settle in the West—maybe even in Virginia City, where you’re headed. Wouldn’t it be nice if you two were to get to know each other better?”
Dianne felt her own cheeks grow hot at this comment. “Ah, yes. I think that would be nice.”
Mrs. Hammond seemed to understand their discomfort and dismissed Levi to return to his work. “He’s not much older than you. Seventeen, to be exact. You never know, you might find yourselves courting before the trip is over.”
“Courting?” Dianne shook her head. “No, I’m much too young according to my mother.”
“Oh, nonsense—you’re sixteen. I was married to Mr. Hammond when I was but fourteen. That was the way things were done in Kentucky, where I grew up. Mr. Hammond was only sixteen and green as grass. He had no idea yet that the Lord was calling him.”
Dianne wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by the Lord calling Mr. Hammond but decided questions would only delay her visit with Faith.
“I don’t think Ma would smile on my courting—not just yet. She married at sixteen and has always told me it was far too much responsibility to take on at that age,” Dianne said, hoping that would be the end of it. She held up her jar of milk. “I probably should be moving on. I need to deliver this.”
“By all means, child. I didn’t mean to keep you. Come back and visit when you’re ready for another quilting lesson. I’m sure we can find loads to talk about.”
Dianne realized she would very much enjoy getting to better know Charity Hammond. “I’ll do that. My sewing still needs work, and with what I’ve heard of the cold weather up north, we’ll be needing extra quilts.”
“Come any time. If we’re still waiting on the river, why don’t you come tomorrow?”
Dianne nodded. “I’ll do that if Ma can spare me.” She bid Mrs. Hammond good-bye, then hurried off to where Faith and Malachi’s wagon was positioned with the other handful of former slaves who had chosen to go west. Dianne thought it quite wrong that the Negroes were forced to keep to themselves but said nothing. Who would listen?
“Faith!” she called, waving. “I’ve brought you some milk.”
Faith waved back and motioned Dianne into the camp. “I’ve soaked some dried peaches and they’re ready for our cobbler lesson.”
Dianne nodded. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
She spent the rest of the morning with Faith, laughing and learning. Dianne found herself telling Faith about her friends back in New Madrid and was fascinated by Faith’s stories of her life before the war.
“Was it really against the law for you to learn to read?” Dianne asked as Faith handed her a wooden bowl of beans for lunch.
“Oh, it sure was. But I was Miss Deborah’s companion. Where she went, I went. So when the tutor came to teach her and her brothers their lessons, I sat at Miss Deborah’s feet and learned right along with them. They didn’t know it. The whites figured we weren’t able to learn such things anyway.”
Dianne shook her head. “I never wanted to go to school. I was never that good at book learning. I mean, I can read and write. I can cipher math problems, but I don’t enjoy any of it. Especially history. I hated that boring old stuff.”
Faith laughed. “My history lessons came at the knee of an old house worker we called Granny. When the master and his family were entertaining, I was sent to be with Granny and the other house slaves. It was there that Granny would remind me who I was and who my people were. See, Granny remembered being stolen away as a girl in Africa. She was brought here and sold and sorely abused by first one master and then another, but she never forgot the old ways or her people.” Faith’s expression took on a faraway look. “Granny gave birth to fifteen children over the course of her life. She didn’t know where a single one was because they’d all been sold off as they’d gotten older. That’s the way things were done, depending on the master’s need.”
“How awful. I can’t imagine having my children taken away.”
Faith nodded. “I don’t remember much about my mama. She wasn’t sold off, though. She died of yellow fever when I was three. I never even knew my pa. But listening to Granny talk about her family, well, I liked to pretend they were mine too. I told her I’d be one of her daughters if she’d have me.” Faith shook herself out of the sorrowful thoughts and added, “Granny taught me about Jesus too.”
Dianne sampled her beans and didn’t know when she’d ever tasted anything so good. “These are wonderful. What are they?”
“Black-eyed peas and a piece of salted pork,” Faith said, checking the cobbler. “I think this is just about ready. We can have dessert with our lunch.”