Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] (34 page)

He threw his clothes into a carpetbag without bothering to fold them. He grabbed what few toiletries and other articles belonged to him and shoved them in with the clothes. The last thing he reached for was his gun belt. He wrapped the holster around the revolver and tucked it in with the clothes.

“What’s going on?” his mother asked as she appeared in the door of his room. “What are you doing?”

“The boy downstairs brought me a telegram from Dianne.”

His mother harrumphed. “So you’re going to go running off to her, is that it?”

“It’s important. I don’t want to discuss it,” he said, working to close the bag. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t come out in tones of anger and frustration, as well as deep worry. His mother would no doubt have little sympathy, despite the death of her grandson.

“It’s always about her. She’s twisted your thoughts and manipulated your heart. She’s no doubt telling you lies. Lies about having another child and how necessary it is for you to return to Montana. Lies about—”

“What did you say?” Cole dropped his hold on the bag.

His mother seemed taken aback by his tone. “You heard me.

She’s a conniving little liar. She lied about me and your sisters, and now she’s lying to get you to rush home. But no doubt once you risk life and limb in these blizzards, she’ll simply laugh in your face and refuse you again.”

“She’s never refused me,” Cole said, barely able to keep his voice even. He felt a growing rage build within. He held up the telegram. “I never said anything about a baby. Why did you?”

Mary Selby paled and took a step back. “Perhaps now isn’t the best time to discuss this.”

He crossed his arms. “I think you’d better be honest with me, Mother. I’ve tolerated as much as I’m going to put up with.”

His mother’s anger appeared to overcome any fear she might have had. “I can’t believe after all I’ve done for you that you would go back to her. She doesn’t need you like I do.”

“She’s dying!” he roared. “How dare you tell me what she needs?”

“She’s lying! Just like everything else. She’s telling you these tales to get you back into her snare. How could a dying woman send a telegram?”

“She didn’t send this telegram,” he said, stuffing the paper into his pocket. “The man who sent it wouldn’t have lied about this or anything else. Unlike this family, there are still honorable people in the world.”

“Cole, you can’t mean that,” his mother said, moving to where he stood. “I’ve done nothing but try to protect you.”

He was unmoved by her pleading tone. “How did you know about the baby?”

“There’s no baby. I’m certain she was just saying that to entice you,” she replied firmly.

“I want to know right now how you knew about the baby.” He narrowed his eyes and leaned toward her. “Right now, Mother.”

She drew a deep breath. “Well, there was one letter. But only one, Cole. She never bothered to write again, and the letter was full of lies.”

“When did she write?”

“It came shortly after they arrived in Virginia City. She wanted to let you know they had arrived safely.”

Cole shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this out of your mouth. You’ve deceived me—not only with the letter, but in everything.”

“No! I’ve done only what was necessary.”

“To help yourself. Certainly not to be of help to me. You drove my family from here—in truth, you made it clear that you never wanted them here to begin with. Now my wife lies near death, and my children are without their father.”

“I’m confident that you’ll find it all a deception when you arrive.” She straightened from her cowering appearance. “Then you’ll see that I was right to keep the letter from you.”

“You lied to me,” he said, his voice void of emotion. The anger that had so clearly fueled him moments ago had abated in the wake of his fears. Dianne had been right all along. His mother and sisters were manipulating every situation to pit him and Dianne against each other. The excuses he’d made for his mother now soured in his stomach as he reflected on them. How betrayed Dianne must have felt, and now she might very well die with that on her heart and nothing more.

“You need to calm down and think this through,” Mary said. “You know very well the trains haven’t been running. The entire countryside is buried in snow and there is no chance you’ll be able to get far.”

“I’ll get a room at the hotel. Then at least I won’t have to stay here.” He picked up his bag. “I don’t know why you ever thought it acceptable to do what you did. If I’d only listened to my wife—if I’d only have returned to Montana with her—I’d be at her side now, where I belong.”

“Please don’t go, Cole. I need you here.”

“You don’t need anyone. You’ve made that abundantly clear.” He shook his head. “No, I take that back. You need to make a right stand with God. You need to clear out the hatred and bitterness that you have in your heart, and you need to seek the forgiveness of those whom you’ve wronged.”

She laughed bitterly. “I’ve done nothing that requires forgiveness. I tried to protect my child, out of a mother’s love. I don’t want to be forgiven for that.”

Cole pushed past her and headed to the door. “Ralph will contact you as soon as the snows melt enough to burn off the field. He owns this place now. I’ll send you money as he pays off the mortgage.”

“Don’t go,” she said, pulling at his coat sleeve.

Cole jerked away and stared at her hard. How could he have been so blinded by her schemes? “You have my lying sisters to consort with. Hopefully you’ll all get on your knees and pray to God that Dianne lives. There’s no hope for my dead son, but the least you could do is pray for her.”

There was no train out of Topeka that day or the next, but as soon as the tracks were cleared, Cole was headed home. He spent the days of travel in deep prayer and meditation on the Bible. He searched for Scripture passages of hope and restoration. He prayed for Dianne’s recovery and for his marriage.

I’ve made a mess of things, Lord. I got caught up in a problem that wasn’t even mine to worry about. If I’d listened to Dianne early on and if we’d prayed on this together and worked together, I might have been by her side. I might have kept her from illness—from the baby dying
.

He tortured himself with his thoughts, and no matter how hard he prayed for forgiveness, Cole felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

“You travelin’ far, son?” the conductor asked Cole as he came to check his ticket.

Cole produced the piece and handed it up. “Montana,” he said in a rather dejected voice.

“I’ll probably get you as far as Denver but won’t promise much more’n that. Snows are bad up Cheyenne way, and to the west it’s nigh onto impossible to get through. They’ve had some luck off and on, but no promises.” He handed the ticket back to Cole.

“Thanks.”

“’Course, you should’ve seen us last year in January. Snows so bad we put eleven engines on one locomotive and still couldn’t get it broke loose of the ice. That was around Salina way.” The man crossed his arms. “Ain’t never seen the likes of it, but sounds like the same thing’s hit up north and west. South ain’t farin’ good either. Last year was the start of the ‘big die-up,’ as they call it—with Texas losin’ lots of steers to the cold and snow. This year don’t look much better for them or anyone else.”

Cole was discouraged enough without the man’s help. “Guess I’ll have to pray for a miracle then,” he muttered.

The conductor laughed. “Prayin’s the only thing that’s got us this far. If you ain’t been prayin’, you’d best get to it.”

I haven’t been praying enough, that’s for sure. I let my life get overrun with worry and fears
. Cole remembered the time after the fire took the ranch. He had been consumed with the overwhelming amount of work necessary to put the ranch back in order. He had worried about every detail, until he did nothing at all for fear of doing the wrong thing.

I didn’t keep my eyes on you, did I, Father? Guess it’s time to stop thinking about myself and focus in on you. I’ve learned hard lessons about leading things. Forgive me for my pride—my doubt. Help me to move forward with my eyes on you—not on what I can do
.

“I’m sick of snow. I haven’t seen this much snow since … well … since never!” declared Elsa Lawrence.

Mara laughed. “At least we don’t have to be out in it much. Not like when we were ranching. Zane has provided a nice warm house.”

“I’m always cold, even with the fire blazing,” Elsa said as she rubbed her upper arms. “I’ve not been warm since last summer.”

“But you have been full of complaints,” Mara chided. “I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but honestly Elsa, you could show some gratitude.”

Elsa plopped down on a chair. She hadn’t even bothered to braid or pin up her long brown hair. Her icy blue eyes reminded Mara of their father. She tried not to think about it or let it unnerve her, but sometimes Elsa could sound exactly like him.

“I’m really sorry, Mara. I know I’ve been a bear to live with. It’s just … well … I miss the ranch.”

“Father’s ranch?”

Elsa rolled her gaze to the ceiling and laughed. “Goodness, no. I meant the Diamond V. Everybody there was so loving, so kind. I’ve never known folks like that. They loved each other and worked together. They were so nice to me.”

Mara nodded, knowing full well what her sister was talking about. “I never thought families could be like that. I’d never known anything but the anger and ugly tempers shown in our home. When I went to stay with Cole and Dianne, it wasn’t that they didn’t have their problems, but they always seemed willing to talk and work through things. I’ve never seen any two people more in love or more happy being parents than Cole and Dianne.”

“Do you suppose Cole will come home in time for the baby to be born?”

“It’s hard to say. With the weather the way it is, Zane says no one will be coming this direction until it all thaws. I wish it would thaw enough to get some letters through. At least then we’d know when the baby comes and how everyone is doing.”

“The thaw could take until next summer by the way it looks.” Elsa sighed and got to her feet. “I’m going upstairs to sew. I might as well do something productive.”

“Zane will be home for dinner soon,” Mara said, standing up as well, “so I’d best get some food warming for him.”

“Be sure and ask him if there’s any news. I’m positively wasting away for some word of how the rest of the world is doing. At least Father always had a newspaper or two in the house.” Elsa tramped up the stairs, muttering to herself about keeping informed or something along those lines.

Mara smiled to herself. The thing that was bothering Elsa the most wasn’t the snow or the lack of newspapers; it was Jamie Vandyke. The girl was positively smitten. Mara giggled and went to open the stove. Feeding in a few pieces of coal, she stirred up the embers and worked to get the stove nice and hot. Next she retrieved some of the roast they’d had from the night before. She had her own well-kept cooler on the back porch. It was better than any icehouse. With the temperatures well below zero most nights, truth be told, the food probably was kept much too cold. But at least there was no worry about spoilage.

Mara had thick slices of warmed bread and roast ready for her husband when he came stomping up the walk. She couldn’t help but smile at the way Zane had bundled himself against the sub-zero temperatures. She knew he was wearing several layers of shirts and trousers, but he’d also taken every knitted scarf she could find to wrap around his face and neck and to tuck down inside his coat.

She opened the door for him when he reached it. “Is Zane Chadwick to be found in there somewhere?” she teased.

“Nope, he froze to a freight wagon’ bout an hour ago.”

She laughed and helped him to shed his layers. It was rather like peeling an onion—only without the teary smell. “Let me put these by the stove in the front room,” she said, taking off with an armload of scarves and his coat. “That way they’ll be nice and warm when you have to go back out. You get out of your boots and I’ll put them in here too.”

“No sense getting your nice wood floor all wet,” he called to her.