Dianne took pity on the boys. She placed the flowers at the foot of the stone and whispered a prayer before climbing back atop Dolly. The wind picked up and blew her wide-brimmed hat from her head, but the loose rawhide straps under her chin kept it from going any farther than her back. Wisps of blond hair blew delicately across Dianne’s face.
She sighed and looked down across the town. “I guess we’d best head back.”
They moved back down the hill at a leisurely pace. Dianne wanted to say something more, but she didn’t. The twins remained silent as well. It was as if a door had so completely closed on that part of their lives that they had no desire to reopen it. Dianne wondered if they felt guilty over what had happened. They’d never talked about it. Never once since their mother had died.
“You know,” she began, “I think in spite of all that happened, losing the girls and Mama, it was still right to come west.”
The boys said nothing, so she continued. “I used to feel really guilty about Mama dying, but I came to realize that everything is in God’s timing. I can’t keep a person alive if the Lord is calling her home. And I can’t change things once everything is said and done.”
“But sometimes it’s hard to understand God doing things like He does,” Morgan said. “I can’t say that I’d do it all over again if I had the chance. I might have come on my own, but I would never have voted for bringing you girls.”
“Me either,” Zane said in a barely audible voice. “Montana doesn’t seem like a good place for women.”
“Well, I beg to differ with you,” Dianne said. “I feel like Montana is a home I never knew. It feels right living here, and I’ll be just as content to die here as well.”
They reached the hotel and the boys took the horses to the livery while Dianne made her way inside. Someday she’d show the twins that Montana was the perfect place for her. She wasn’t sure what it would take to convince them, but she’d show them.
“I’m Dianne Chadwick. My uncle arranged a room for me,” she said in greeting to the hotel clerk. “His name is Bram Vandyke.”
The clerk, probably ten years her senior, smiled and leaned forward. “He did indeed, but he didn’t tell me what a purty young thing you were. Are you married?”
Dianne knew that for every available woman in Montana, there were at least fifty bachelors lined up to court her. She didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings, but he definitely did not fit her idea of husband material.
“No, but I am in a hurry to wash up and get something to eat.” She smiled and added, “So if you’d give me the key and direct me to my room, I’d be much obliged.”
The clerk looked at her for a moment, as if trying to decide if it was worth his trouble to try sweet-talking her again. Apparently he figured her to be determined. He reached behind him to the cubby box and pulled the key out for her room.
“Do you need help with your things?” he asked, his tone sounding hopeful.
“No, my uncle should have seen to my bag. Besides, my two brothers are right behind me. They’ll bring anything we’ve forgotten.”
He nodded but looked very disappointed.
Dianne hurried to her room and unlocked the door to find that Uncle Bram had already opened the door between the two rooms. Her bag was on the floor at the foot of her bed and the draperies had been pulled back to let in the light.
“Uncle Bram?” she called, peering around the adjoining door.
“I’m here. Just washing this grime off my neck.” He was bent over the washbasin, water dripping from his neck and beard.
“I’d probably better do the same,” Dianne said. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.”
She closed the door between the rooms and went to her bag. Pulling out a fresh blouse, she bemoaned all the wrinkles. For all her care, there was very little she could do on the trail to keep herself neat and orderly. Koko had told her that’s why buckskin was so nice, and in truth, the jacket Koko had made for Dianne from doeskin needed a dusting but otherwise looked just fine.
Dampening the blouse a bit helped to pull some of the wrinkles out, but it still wasn’t to Dianne’s liking. She quickly rid herself of the blouse she’d worn on the trail, however, and after washing up, donned the new blouse, wrinkles and all. She was just combing out her hair when a knock sounded on the adjoining door.
“Come in,” she called.
“Are you ready yet, sis? I’m famished.”
It was Morgan, and he looked at her with such a hangdog expression that Dianne had to laugh. “I’m ready.” She took up a rawhide strip and tied her hair back in a loose tail at the nape of her neck. “I won’t even bother to pin my hair up,” she declared as she joined her brother. “I wouldn’t want to be accused of starving you to death.”
They found seats in the small hotel eatery and ordered the beef stew and biscuits. The meal was quickly laid before them, along with hot coffee that Dianne found much too strong for her liking.
“I’ve already heard some news,” Bram said as they dug into their meal. “The hotel clerk told me the town is looking to get itself federal patent. That will require resurveying the city boundaries. Don’t know how long it will take, but they think it necessary with the growing number of people moving to the territory.”
“But there are fewer people here now than before,” Dianne said. “At least it appears that way.”
“Well, granted, a lot of the miners have moved on, but the city fathers are hoping to draw in folks who will stick around and not be given over to leaving every time a new strike is discovered.”
“Well, after supper, I intend to go see what I can find out about joining the army,” Zane announced.
Dianne opened her mouth to speak but instead found a familiar voice offering a greeting.
“Evening, Mr. Vandyke, Zane, Morgan.” Cole Selby paused as Dianne looked up to meet his eyes. “Miss Chadwick.”
“Cole! It’s good to see you,” Bram said as he stood up and shook his hand. “How are you faring? We haven’t heard from you in … what … two years?”
“I guess at least that,” Cole admitted.
“Are you here for supper? If so, why don’t you join us?”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense. Pull up a chair.”
Dianne listened to the exchange, never once saying a word. Cole looked a bit thinner, his hair a little longer, but he was still the same handsome man. She swallowed hard but felt like her mouth had turned to cotton. She thought of her ambition to come to Virginia City to find a man who might have the potential to be her husband. Here she was face to face with the only man who’d ever caused her thoughts to go in that direction, yet he apparently had never been inclined to think likewise toward Dianne.
Cole did as Bram instructed and positioned himself between Morgan and Zane. “Have you been in town for long?” he asked, his gaze once again going to Dianne.
“No. We just pulled in. Needed to come for a few more supplies and to find some men who might like to work for me.”
“I’d like to be considered for that job,” Cole said, surprising Dianne so much that she gave the tiniest gasp.
Everyone looked to her as if she were choking. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say. “That was rude, but I must say I was surprised.”
“I am too,” Bram declared. “I always told you I’d hire you back on in a heartbeat, so what made you stay here in Virginia City, knowing I’d give you a job?”
Cole looked to the table and shook his head. “I haven’t always been right here in Virginia City. But either way, I guess I figured you would have forgotten about that by now or else had enough men to help.”
They paused the conversation long enough for Cole to put in his order for food and coffee, and then Bram immediately started in again. “Do you have any friends who might like a job? They’d need to be dependable and not given to just hanging on until the next strike.”
“I might know some,” Cole said, his expression thoughtful. “I figure there might be three or four who could give you an honest day’s work.”
“I’d like to meet them. Could you bring them by here tomorrow morning?”
Cole nodded. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”
A small man who reminded Dianne of Percy Showalter served Cole his supper, then offered more coffee to Bram and the boys. Dianne thought about asking for tea but decided against it. She didn’t want Cole to think she was less than capable of bucking up under the circumstances. She didn’t know why his good opinion mattered to her, but it did.
As they ate, she thought of all the time that had passed since she’d last seen Cole. How often she had watched the horizon, hoping he might return to the Vandyke ranch. She’d even prayed he might come back, but to no avail. Yet here he was now. Sitting there eating and talking as if no more than a day had passed.
“So what news have you heard?” Bram asked Cole.
“Well, there’s Indian troubles aplenty on the plains. A company called the Union Pacific is trying to put in a railroad from Omaha—it’s going to be part of the rail system that goes all the way to the Pacific. When it’s finished it will allow travel from the East Coast to the West.”
“That will be a wondrous thing,” Bram said, shaking his head. “I remember how tedious and long the trip can be.”
“Well, the tribes aren’t taking kindly to their land being infringed upon. They’re afraid the railroad will drive the buffalo away, as well as any other food source. They also understand the rails will bring a permanency to the relocation of whites to the territories and states involved. They’re causing no end to problems. They’ve been murdering surveyors and wreaking havoc with supplies.”
“I’m sure it’s hard to face the coming changes,” Bram replied sadly. “We knew it was coming, though. Koko’s father and I talked about it on many an occasion years ago. I suppose I’m just as guilty with my ranch and cattle, but the changes will come with or without me. I might as well benefit if I can and benefit those I love.” He smiled at Dianne in particular.
Cole looked again at Dianne, searching her face as if trying to learn something from her expression. She met his gaze, holding it for a moment before her uncle broke the spell.
“What of the Indian problems here in the territory? Have you heard anything new on those?”
Cole nodded. “Had you heard about John Bozeman getting killed?”
Bram shook his head. “No, I’d not heard a thing about him since he got that town started east of the Madison Range.”
“Rumor has it that he and his companion were attacked by five Peigan. Mr. Bozeman was murdered and his friend shot.”
Dianne looked at her uncle, remembering Koko’s brother, Takes-Many-Horses. No one had heard from the young man in two years. Not since he’d shown up at the ranch after he and his friends had killed a group of woodcutters on the Marias. She couldn’t help but wonder if Takes-Many-Horses was also responsible for the attack on Bozeman.
“Folks are clamoring for a real fort instead of that local militia post Governor Meagher set up. They don’t feel safe. Rumor has it the Blackfoot will make an alliance with the Sioux and Cheyenne and begin a large-scale war.”
“I thought maybe we’d have some peace since they closed down Bozeman’s trail.”
Zane had perked up considerably at the talk of the fort. “Has word come as to whether they’ll get approval for the fort?”
Cole shook his head. “No. As I hear it, President Johnson doesn’t take Governor Meagher seriously. Apparently our governor is always firing off telegrams to the president. Explaining the impending doom. But no one believes him.”
“But what about the Fetterman Massacre?” Zane questioned. “Captain Fetterman and his entire command were killed last December by Red Cloud and his Sioux. Surely that proves a threat.”
Cole shook his head and pushed back his bowl. “They don’t see it that way, as I hear tell. The Fetterman Massacre took place near Fort Phil Kearny, hundreds of miles away. Bozeman was killed just east of Livingston, but the circumstances are suspect.”
“Why do you say that?” Bram questioned.
Dianne could still not get past the idea that Koko’s brother, with his dark brooding eyes and casual admittance of murder, might very well have had something to do with this attack.
“Bozeman’s friend Thomas Cover stated that they were come upon by several Indians whom Bozeman at first believed to be friendly Crow.”
Dianne finally spoke. “But I thought the Crow were hostile to whites.”
“Actually, some of the Crow have settled down to a friendly, even helpful, relationship with the whites. Since they have essentially closed down Bozeman Trail, they seem to feel the white man capable of goodness. However, that may not last long. I’ve heard there are plans to put all of the Indians on reservations—Crow included.”
Dianne looked to Bram, wondering what it might mean for their family. Surely Koko and little Jamie wouldn’t be forced away from them. Koko was half white and Jamie was three-quarters. Would it matter to the government that they had lived as whites? Or would it be no better than the way the blacks were treated with their rule of a single drop of Negro blood constituting them to be black? Koko and Bram’s marriage wasn’t legitimate in the eyes of the law. What would happen to them?
T
HE YEARS HAD HARDENED TRENTON CHADWICK. HE’D LIVED
A fast and furious life, gambling to keep himself well fed and clothed, avoiding confrontation wherever possible to keep himself alive.
Thoughts of his life in New Madrid were little more than hazy memories as the months away became years. With the war over, a sense of euphoria was spreading. People were daring to dream again—to hope in the future. The influx of wagons moving west brought more and more settlers to the lonely plains, while progress on the transcontinental railroad promised them a means of rapid travel for the future.
Coming back to Omaha hadn’t really been Trenton’s plan, but it suited his needs well enough. He rode down the dusty street that Fourth of July morning remembering his previous times here. Grimacing, Trenton couldn’t help but remember the beating he’d taken on account of Annabelle, the saloon girl. He’d thought to look her up at the Looloo Saloon, then decided against it. Why bother? She probably wasn’t even working there anymore—girls like Annabelle had a penchant for moving around.