To Dream Anew (7 page)

Dianne couldn’t help but grin when she thought back to those first few days when Portia constantly complained about the need for a maid.

“I’ll just have some tea, thank you,” Portia said, moving off toward the kitchen.

“When all of this is settled,” Cole said softly, “I do think it would be wise to hire a cook and housekeeper.”

“We’ve been talking about doing that since Uncle Bram first built this house,” Dianne replied. “Koko and I really don’t feel the need. Sure, it’s a lot of work, but Faith is good to help with the cooking from time to time, and sometimes Charity comes over to help with the housework.”

“But the children are needing more and more attention. Koko has her hands full just trying to school Jamie and Susannah. One day it’ll be the same for you with Luke and—” he paused with a grin—“any other children we might have.”

Dianne felt her cheeks grow warm but said nothing. Cole came to her and pulled her close. Kissing her long and passionately, Dianne temporarily forgot about the Indians and other conflicts. This was the only place she truly felt safe.

“Please be careful,” she whispered as Cole pulled away.

“Stop worrying. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.” He left then, passing Portia as she came back into the dining room.

“They always say that,” the older woman murmured.

“Say what?” Dianne asked as she began picking up the dirty dishes.

“That everything will be all right. Every man I’ve ever known has always said the same thing. ‘Don’t worry, Portia, everything will be all right.’ But it never is,” she said sadly.

Dianne felt a chill run through her body. “We must have hope.”

“Hope doesn’t get you very far at the deathbed of someone you love.” Portia’s words were laced with a bitterness Dianne couldn’t begin to understand.

“I’ve lost many people I loved,” Dianne began slowly. “It’s never easy.”

“Now I may lose my father … and then what?” Portia questioned. “I have no one else. No one at all.”

“What about Ned’s folks? You mentioned when you first came here that they’re still living. Couldn’t you go back to them?”

The dark-haired beauty shook her head. “Hardly. They were never very kind to me. They felt Ned could have done better for himself. Imagine that. I was a rich widow. I certainly didn’t need the Langford money to see me through. Yet they still thought Ned had lowered himself to marry me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Portia. There’s no accounting for how some people feel. You simply have to face it and go forward.”

“If my father doesn’t return, I’ll have to figure out some way to go forward. I can’t remain here forever.”

Dianne got the distinct impression Portia was hoping she would contradict her. But where the widow was concerned, Dianne had always felt uneasy. She knew Trenton didn’t like Portia at all, and she respected his opinion—he had spent more time with Portia than anyone.

“Well, there’s no use in fretting,” Dianne said, gathering the last of the silver. “I need to go see to these. If you should get bored, we’ll be doing some canning today and later some laundry.”

“In this heat?”

Dianne smiled. “The vegetables won’t wait until it’s cooler. We’ve set everything up outside so as not to cause the house to grow too hot. You’re welcome to come and lend a hand.”

“I know nothing about it,” Portia said, focusing on her tea.

“Well, maybe it’s time to learn. Then when your father returns, you’ll be very useful to him.”

“I can hardly imagine he’ll see it that way.”

Dianne shrugged. “You can never tell what a person will think or feel until you give him a chance.”

Two days later the canning was nearly done, without any help from Portia. Dianne wiped the outside of a jar of tomatoes as she considered what was to be done about the very idle Mrs. Langford. It was one thing to be a guest staying only a few days, but the woman had been with them for nearly two months, and her inability to help around the house was taxing. Dianne supposed the only way to make a change was to simply assign Portia some duties.

“She won’t like it,” Dianne muttered.

“Who won’t like it?” Koko asked.

Dianne looked up at her aunt. The woman looked very much like her Blackfoot ancestors today. She had chosen to wear a simple dress of deerskin and her hair was plaited in two long black braids. “I was thinking that we should assign Portia some jobs around the place.”

Koko smiled. “You’re right. She won’t like it.”

“I’ve never met a woman who liked to sit around idle as much as that one. She doesn’t even read or sew. She just sits there staring out the window or rocking on the porch.”

“She gives a fair try at complaining,” Koko teased.

“No trying about it. That woman has complaining down to an exact form. She knows very well how to get under the skin of anyone around her.”

“Listen,” Koko said, cocking her head. “Riders.”

Dianne exchanged a glance with her aunt and fear gripped her heart. Riders these days weren’t always the welcome kind. Dianne moved for the shotgun that leaned against the house. “Go be with the children.”

Dianne edged to the corner of the house and immediately exclaimed, “Zane!”

She turned to Koko. “It’s Zane, and he has a young woman with him.”

Koko came and joined her. “Maybe he’s taken a wife.”

“I suppose that’s possible. Come on. Let’s go greet them.”

Dianne was so relieved to see her brother again that she completely forgot about the shotgun in her hands.

“I hope you aren’t intending to use that on me,” Zane said good-naturedly. “Especially since I brought you a wonderful surprise.” He slid from his horse and Dianne rushed into his arms.

“We’ve been so worried. We heard about the battle at Little Big Horn. We weren’t sure whether you were dead or alive.” She pushed away and studied Zane for a moment. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No. I’m just fine.” His expression was quite animated. “I have a surprise for you.”

“So you’ve said.” Dianne looked past Zane to the young woman who sat with head bowed atop the back of a sorrel mare. She wore a cradleboard on her back.

Zane left Dianne and helped the woman down from the horse. He brought her gently to where Dianne stood. “I hope this doesn’t come as too much of a fright, but God has given us back something very precious.”

The woman lifted her face and Dianne gasped. It was like staring into the face of her mother. She felt lightheaded and was afraid she might faint.

“It’s Ardith, Dianne. I found her. Or actually, God brought her to me.”

The two women locked their gazes. It was as if they searched each other’s eyes for answers to a decade’s worth of questions.

“I can’t believe it.” Dianne’s eyes filled with tears. “Ardith, is it really you?”

“Yes,” the woman whispered. “I’m not the same girl you used to know, but it’s me.”

Dianne pulled her sister into her arms and cried. “This is too wonderful.” A million questions circled around her thoughts of praise. This was truly too much to have even hoped for. She recalled the days after Ardith had fallen into the flood-swollen Platte River and was swept downstream. They had searched and searched but never found any sign of the girl.

Ardith had been ten years old, and the loss to their family had been acute. Dianne pushed such thoughts aside as she continued to hug her sister. How could it be that she was here after all these years? How could she have survived?

It took some time to compose herself again, but when Dianne pulled away, she could see that Ardith had been crying as well.

“Come on. You must be exhausted. I’ll set you up in our spare guest room. We have another guest in the room next to yours, but we have plenty of space, so never you mind.” Dianne knew she was rambling, but the words just seemed to bubble out. “Koko, will you help me get some bath water ready for Ardith?” She turned and looked to her aunt. “This is our aunt, Koko Vandyke.”

Ardith looked that direction as well and recoiled. She backed up, terror in her eyes. Dianne didn’t immediately notice, but Koko did.

“I’m your Uncle Bram’s widow,” Koko offered. “Didn’t Zane tell you about me?”

Ardith looked to Zane. “You said she lived as white.”

Dianne realized that Ardith was upset by the Blackfoot dress and style their aunt had chosen. “Koko is half Blackfoot. Sometimes she wears this manner of dress,” Dianne offered. “Especially when we’re doing hard work.”

Ardith shook her head. “I hate the Indians. I hate them all. I don’t care if she did marry Uncle Bram. I want nothing to do with her! Nothing!” She turned and hid her face in Zane’s chest.

Dianne looked to her brother. “It’s a long story,” he said softly. “I found her as a hostage among the Sioux. She’s suffered a great deal.”

Just then Dianne spotted the infant in the cradleboard. She had shocks of black hair and her skin was ruddy. There was no doubting that the baby was Indian—probably Sioux. Dianne looked back to Koko, but found that the woman was gone.

“I’m so sorry, Ardith. I didn’t know. Come on. Let’s get you upstairs and let you rest. Can I help you with the baby? I have a little one myself. Did Zane tell you?”

Ardith lifted her head. “He said you had a boy.”

Dianne smiled. “That’s right. His name is Luke. What’s your baby’s name?”

“Winona. Her name means ‘giving.”’

“What an unusual and beautiful name,” Dianne said, looking over Ardith’s once again bowed head to meet her brother’s eyes. She saw a hint of understanding there. Ardith had come back to them, but she was very fragile and extremely wounded.

That night Dianne lovingly dressed her niece in a flannel gown—probably the first the child had ever worn. She then wrapped the baby snuggly in a warm blanket. Winona was very small but seemed healthy. Ardith had told them that she was born nearly a month early by her accounts.

“The constant travel and battle brought it on,” Ardith said, watching Dianne from the bed. “I’d already lost another baby that way.”

Dianne looked up, unable to hide her frown. “You had another child?”

“It wasn’t born alive,” she said, looking away. “It was sometime last year. I didn’t want it anyway.”

Dianne was shocked by her sister’s words. “What of Winona?”

“She’s the only thing I’m living for. She gave me a will to live; that’s why I called her ‘giving.”’

Coming to the bed with the baby in her arms, Dianne tried to figure out what to say next. “Can you talk about your time since leaving us?”

Ardith reached up and took her daughter. “There are some things I will never speak of. They would serve no purpose.”

Dianne sat down on the bed beside her sister. “I came after you that night in the camp, when you had gotten so upset. I knew you felt abandoned.”

“I was selfish. I didn’t want Mama to have another baby. After I fell in the river, all I wanted was to find you all again. I prayed so hard. I told God I didn’t care how many babies Mama had, I just wanted to go home.” Ardith fell silent for several moments, then continued.

“The Pawnee found me. They were kind to me. I was sick for some time, but they nursed me back to health. I couldn’t tell them where I belonged. I wasn’t even sure where we were. As time went on, I couldn’t even remember much about where we were supposed to be traveling. I remembered some things, but others were just clouded memories. Bits and pieces of people and places.

“Among the Pawnee, I stayed with a man and woman who had three daughters, and together we helped each other. I taught them English and they taught me the Pawnee language, as well as skills for staying alive. As my memories faded and my understanding of where I might find you completely slipped away, I learned to be content with my Pawnee family.”

“What happened to put you with the Sioux?”

Ardith shook her head, her brows knitting together. “There was a raid. Many of the Pawnee were killed. My adopted family was murdered. The Sioux held this band a grudge. Apparently there was some sort of war between the two tribes, and we were caught up in it. Several of the women and children were taken to be slaves. I was one of them.”

“How old were you?”

“Fourteen. As best as I can tell. Zane told me I’m now twenty-two.”