Dianne pondered the matter momentarily. “My father’s people were English and my mother’s people were Dutch. I know they didn’t marry in the same ceremonies or with the same rules put on their families by the old country. My mother said as much once when we were discussing their wedding. And I’m sure very few marry in the manner that Mary and Joseph or others in the Bible would have married.” She was trying to reason away any argument she could imagine by her white friends and family but knew it was probably useless. Legally they wouldn’t be recognized as husband and wife. Not in a white man’s world.
Later that day as evening was coming upon them, Dianne was still pondering these issues as she groomed Dolly. She tried to imagine the hardship of having a different colored skin like Faith or Koko.
“It isn’t right, Dolly. People should be valued for just being people. And if two people are in love and want to marry, it shouldn’t be the business of anyone else.”
Dianne heard a rustling behind her and felt the skin on the back of her neck tingle. Dolly whinnied softly and moved toward her mistress. Dianne looked up quickly and whirled around to prove to herself that it was nothing more than the wind.
But she was very wrong.
Standing no more than ten feet away, a gathering of a half dozen Indian warriors watched her with expressions of great interest—even curiosity—on their faces. Dianne had no idea who they were or with which tribe they were associated. Without giving thought to what she was doing, Dianne let out a scream and climbed through the corral fence. Not bothering to look behind her, Dianne ran as fast as her legs would carry her.
D
IANNE HADN’T QUITE REACHED THE CABIN WHEN KOKO CAME
bursting out the door. She held a double-barreled shotgun in her hands, and Dianne quickly dove behind her for protection. Stunned when she realized who the intruders were, Koko stopped in midstep. She looked across the yard, then back to Dianne.
Dianne peeked out from behind her and pointed to the group of leather-clad warriors making their way toward the cabin.
Koko began to laugh and lowered the gun. “Don’t be afraid! That’s my brother, George—or Takes-Many-Horses, as he likes to be called. The others are his Pikuni friends.”
Dianne straightened and came from behind Koko as the leader of the group stepped forward. He had long black hair, braided loosely and pushed back over his shoulder. His ebony eyes scrutinized Dianne with an intensity that made her wish she could run and hide. These men were nothing like the Indians she’d seen on the plains. Those people had been either old and sickly or very young. The strength and appearance of these seven men—healthy, strong men—was quite intimidating.
“Are you on the buffalo hunt?” Koko asked.
Dianne edged away from her, trying her best to look brave. It was difficult at best, however, to look casual when facing such an impressive group.
“We aren’t on the hunt,” Koko’s brother finally answered. “Actually, we need a place to stay tonight. I can explain it all to you later. Can you help us?”
His tone was ominous, and Dianne got the distinct impression they were in trouble. She tried to covertly study the men. They were dressed in leather, some with robes, and all held weapons.
“You can sleep in the barn. When Bram gets back I’ll let him know you’re here. Have you eaten?”
Takes-Many-Horses turned and said something to the men. Dianne was fascinated with the language. She’d not heard Koko speak in her native tongue even once.
One by one, the men filed off to the barn. When they’d gone, Takes-Many-Horses turned back to face his sister. “We’re in trouble— the white seizers are after us.”
“White seizers?” Dianne questioned without thinking.
“Soldiers,” Koko said, not looking at Dianne. “What have you done to bring the army after you, George?”
Her brother looked chagrined. “Does it matter?”
Koko crossed her arms. “Yes, it matters. If you bring trouble upon this household, you’ll have me to answer to. I want to know everything— now.”
Dianne had never seen Koko so determined. The little woman was full of fire. Dianne glanced at Koko’s brother, waiting to hear about his problems and why he’d suddenly appeared on the Vandyke ranch.
“We were part of a war party. We killed some white woodcutters up by the Marias.” He said it so matter-of-factly that Dianne couldn’t help but gasp. She took a step back, stunned by the news. Takes-Many-Horses met her gaze, his expression hard and cold. Dianne held the look, unable to do otherwise.
“Why?”
Koko’s single-word question seemed so inadequate. Dianne wanted to hurl wordy diatribes at the man, but his sister merely asked why. It seemed unreasonable—illogical.
Takes-Many-Horses looked back to his sister. “It started in Fort Benton. Some whites were angry because of some missing horses. They blamed the Pikuni, and rightfully so, but they had the wrong band. We were heading out to hunt buffalo as we do every year at this time. The whites found our camp and ambushed us there. They killed three of us and left the rest badly beaten. After that, there was no talk of peace between the whites and those responsible.
“We came upon the woodcutters and took our revenge.”
“I see.” Koko’s voice had taken on a deadly calm. “And having blood on your hands, you come here. To stain my door and bring shame upon the man who took care of you after our loss.”
“There’s no shame in avenging my brothers.” Takes-Many-Horses’ eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.
“Sleep in the barn and be gone in the morning,” Koko told him, then turned to head into the house.
Dianne wanted to follow her, but her legs were much too heavy to move. She looked at Takes-Many-Horses, her heart pounding in fear. Would he storm after his sister and hurt her? What would Dianne do then?
To her relief, the man simply turned and headed to the barn. The minutes ticked by and he was completely out of sight by the time Dianne finally found the strength to move.
Koko prepared dinner in silence and when Bram hadn’t returned by seven, the two women sat down to eat without him.
“Do you suppose Uncle Bram is in danger?” Dianne asked.
“He sometimes runs into problems. He’s told me never to worry about him unless he’s gone more than a week.”
“A week! But a person could be …” She let the words go unsaid. It was obvious both women were well aware of the possibilities.
Dianne ate a few more bites before she said, “I’m sorry I made such a scene earlier. I was so afraid.”
Koko shook her head. “It’s all right. You didn’t know anything about them. You couldn’t have expected it, and I’d just told you how the Crow were murdering whites in the east. If anyone should apologize, it’s me.”
“Nonsense. I should have been calmer about it.” Dianne tore off a piece of bread and nibbled on it thoughtfully. “Has he … well … has he killed before?” Dianne had never known a man who openly admitted to killing people.
Koko nodded. “It’s all about being a warrior—about a war he perceives he must fight.”
“But killing innocent men …”
“But you must understand, no white man is innocent to them. The white man has come upon their territory—their land—their herds of buffalo. The white man has taken charge and has pushed the Blackfoot from his home. The whites have killed their women and children—their old men and young. So the Blackfoot, the Crow, the Sioux—they’ve all declared war in their own way.”
“So you see nothing wrong with what Takes-Many-Horses has done?”
Koko pushed her plate away. “It’s obviously not the life I would have chosen for him, but Dianne, please do not judge him too harshly. He has been falsely accused and treated as less than a dog. Not once but many times. He cannot live in the white man’s world, even though our father was white. No one there will have him because of his blood. The Pikuni accept him as our mother’s son. His way is chosen for him.”
Koko shook her head. “It’s not so different from your war back East. Bram told me all about the fighting. He read to me from the newspaper, when he could get one. Whites fighting one another because they disagreed with the way people were living their lives. Out here the tribes fight each other for much the same reasons. In the East you had the blacks who were scorned and hated. The whites were harsh and cruel— you told me as much when you talked about your friend Faith.”
Dianne knew it was true. She’d just never looked at the situation with the Indians as an honorable war. Was there any reason to hold Takes-Many-Horses and his friends any more responsible for being murderers than to charge the Union and Confederate soldiers guilty of the same thing?
Dianne didn’t wish to hurt Koko, so she let the matter drop, but that night she slept very little as she thought of the men who rested in the barn. Murderers. Warriors. Men who hated whites.
The next morning, Dianne realized she’d never gone back to finish caring for Dolly. The poor horse had been left in the corral, curry comb and brush abandoned in the dirt. No doubt Dolly was unnerved by the Pikuni guests in the barn, as well, for Dianne found her pacing the ground in the corral when she came to check on the horse.
“Poor girl,” Dianne said, setting aside the rifle she’d chosen to bring along. Koko might feel comfortable with her brother and his friends in the barn, but Dianne did not.
Stroking Dolly’s neck, Dianne let her gaze go to the barn door.Were they gone? Were they still sleeping? She longed to know the truth but didn’t want to go inside and find out for herself. So, pushing her fears aside, Dianne located the brush and comb and tried to refocus her mind on Dolly.
“You have good horse,” a voice called out behind her.
Dianne turned to find one of the warriors watching her and Dolly. She stared at him for a moment, wondering what he might do next.
“I take horse,” he said, folding his arms against his chest.
“Oh no you don’t,” Dianne declared. She marched to where the rifle leaned against the fence post and picked it up. She had no plans to shoot anyone, but the rifle made her feel more secure. “You cannot have my horse.”
“It good horse—I need horse.”
Diane shook her head. “No!” She nearly yelled the word.
The man moved forward and Dianne moved between him and Dolly. She jumped up on the stump of wood that Bram had purposefully left for her to use as a mounting block.
Standing on the block with her gun raised high was how the others found Dianne. Takes-Many-Horses laughed out loud at the sight and commanded the men in his Blackfoot tongue. The men left one by one, including the man who’d wanted Dolly.
“You are not afraid anymore?” Koko’s brother questioned.
Dianne gave a nervous laugh. “I’m terrified. Right down to my toes. But you won’t take my horse. She’s become a good friend to me.” As if to stress this, Dolly came up alongside Dianne and nuzzled her gently.
“What is your name?” he asked, relaxing his stance.
“Dianne. Dianne Chadwick. Bram Vandyke is my uncle.”
“Well, I will call you Stands-Tall-Woman,” Takes-Many-Horses declared with a wry grin. “You are a very fine woman.” He turned with that and left, marching off toward the forest to join his friends.
Dianne waited for several minutes before climbing down. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She thought of how her brothers wanted her back in Missouri. At least in Missouri she wouldn’t have to worry about invasions by tribal warriors.
That afternoon, Bram and Levi showed up. One of the mares had foaled the night before. She’d had trouble and Levi had just happened upon her in the nick of time.
“They’re both doing fine now,” Bram told his wife and niece. “Shouldn’t be any more problems, but Levi is going to help me keep an eye on them.”
“George was here while you were gone,” Koko said, following her husband into the house. Dianne decided to go with them. She was anxious to hear what Koko would tell Bram and how Bram would react if Koko divulged all of the details.
“Would you like me to fix you something to eat?” Koko asked.
Bram sat down to take off his boots. “Nah, I just want to wash up and get some sleep. I ate plenty with the boys. They packed enough for an army. Now tell me about George. Why was he here?”
“He’s in trouble. The soldiers are chasing him and his friends. They killed some woodcutters up near the Marias River.”
Bram tossed his boot aside. “Why?”
Dianne stood listening to the exchange as though they were discussing a wayward child who’d broken the neighbor’s window. Uncle Bram didn’t seem at all unnerved or angered at this news.
Koko relayed the entire story, then added, “I made them leave this morning. I told them not to come back if it meant the soldiers would be right behind them. I told them they weren’t to bring trouble upon us.”
Bram nodded. “It won’t go well for them. This thing of Indians killing whites is going to stir up more and more difficulty for them. The government is already at odds with them and it wouldn’t take that much for someone to get a wild hair and suggest that all the tribes be locked up—put away where they can’t hurt whites anymore.”
Dianne couldn’t help herself. “Would they actually do that, Uncle Bram?”
“I’m afraid it’s already going on.” Bram yawned. “We’ll talk more about this after I get some sleep.”
If her uncle and Koko did have a further discussion about Takes-Many-Horses, Dianne was not privy to it. Two weeks later her brothers and Cole returned, along with fifty head of Texas longhorns, five draught horses, and a new wagon loaded to the brink with supplies.
“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Bram declared. Gus dismounted and came to greet his boss.
“I’ve brought you three more boys to help. I figured with building the bunkhouse, we could probably use them.”
“What did you tell them we’d pay?” Bram asked, watching as the men drove the cattle on past the main yard and into the largest of three corrals.
“Told ’em room and board to begin with,” Gus admitted. “Figured we’d know after a month or two whether they were worth wasting cash on.”
Bram gave a deep, boisterous laugh and slapped Gus on the back. “You always know the right thing to do.”