Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] (30 page)

“You need to let him know, Dianne.”

By this time George had come to join them. “You have to let him know.”

Dianne felt a sense of embarrassment that George had overheard their conversation. But that was the trouble with a cabin like this. Its one main commons area where everyone lived and ate and passed the evening was not designed for privacy.

“I can’t very well let him know now,” Dianne said firmly.

“You could send a letter back with the freighters. Or even with Zane and Mara. You need to at least let him know about the baby and your safe arrival. You owe him that much.”

Dianne felt exhaustion settle over her like a wet blanket. “I suppose you’re right. What time are the freighters heading back?”

“Early. They’ll probably leave at first light.”

Dianne suppressed a yawn. “If you have some writing materials, I’ll pen a quick letter. I didn’t think to purchase any for myself in Virginia City.”

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

“T
HE 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.