The Coming Storm (43 page)
“For instance, a while back we heard that the Sioux and Cheyenne had amassed some two thousand warriors. That seems hard to believe, but because folks are being killed and property is being destroyed, we have to check into it.”
Luke began to fuss and Zane shifted the baby to his shoulder. Dianne smiled as her son calmed and nuzzled against her brother’s neck. “I hope it won’t lead to an all-out war,” she said quietly.
“We’re expecting it to, unfortunately.”
Dianne felt a hopelessness in his statement. She wanted so much to believe that war could be averted. “But can’t something else be done? Some other agreement?”
“Too many agreements have already passed between the government and the Indians. They don’t believe in our agreements anymore, and frankly, who can blame them?” He patted Luke gently on the back and added, “That’s not to say that the tribes haven’t been to blame for their share of conflicts. The Sioux are convinced if they fight hard enough, their enemy will be defeated. What they can’t see is that they are limited in their numbers, where our numbers are definitely superior. Our methods of war are superior as well.”
“So you will fight?” Koko asked.
Dianne remembered the horrors she’d heard Zane describe when he’d witnessed the massacre on the Marias River six years ago. She looked at her brother, seeing the conflict in his expression. He lowered his eyes and took Luke from his shoulder. After studying the baby for just a moment, Zane handed the boy to Dianne.
“I’ll do what I have to do—to keep him safe. To protect all of you.” He looked to his aunt. “I know you’ve always enjoyed safety because of your brother and the connection you have to your people, but it won’t stop what’s coming, and if the Sioux attack here, they won’t care if you are part Blackfoot. They’ll only want you to die.”
Dianne swallowed hard and pulled Luke close. The thought of the ranch being vulnerable to attack was not one she allowed herself to consider very often. It terrified her. Cole had even asked her to stop reading the newspaper accounts of conflicts across the West. He believed the stories to be sensationalized and exaggerated, but here Zane was telling her otherwise—telling her that her fears were very real.
“Do you believe we’ll be attacked here?” Dianne finally found the courage to ask.
Zane met her eyes and she could see the concern in his expression. “I think we all must be very careful—prepared for the worst. Hopefully I’ll have a chance to talk to Cole before I have to leave. You did say he was due back any day, right?”
Dianne nodded. “With new people coming all the time and the herd growing larger, roundup takes longer. I expect him, however, any day.”
“Good. I’ll stay on a bit—I can do that much. I’ll talk to Cole about precautions you can take—just in case.”
Dianne felt a chill run down her spine. Precautions—just in case. The words caused a deep dread to settle over her. It was as if the end of the world loomed just on the horizon.
“When will you have to leave?”
“I need to report by the twenty-eighth,” Zane admitted. “We’re waiting on some of Colonel Gibbon’s troops. Word has it they’re coming south from Helena. Should be at the fort within days if the wet weather doesn’t hold them up. I heard it was exceedingly muddy up that way.”
“Then what?” Dianne asked, almost afraid to know.
“Then we march out—hopefully on the first of April.”
“And where are you headed?”
“East,” Zane replied. “To find the Sioux and Cheyenne and force them back to their reservations.”
Cole washed his neck and face with water from the river. It was icy from the snowmelt but it felt wonderful.
“Sure glad you’re gettin’ the hang of this job,” Gus said as he walked up, leading his horse. “Not sure how many more years I’ll be good for this kind of thing.”
Cole laughed. “You’ll be out there riding the herd long after the rest of us are dead and gone.” He knew the older man had at least twenty years on him, maybe twenty-five.
“I seriously doubt that, my boy.”
The grizzled cowboy took off his hat and knelt down by the river’s edge. He splashed water all over his face and head, then plopped his hat back on his head, letting the water rivulets snake down his neck and into his shirt.
“So did you manage to get things straightened out with those cowboys from the Bar S?” Cole asked. There had been some trouble at the branding and a declaration from the smaller outfit that the Diamond V was stealing their cattle.
“I explained the situation and showed them the brands. They’re still convinced several calves were motherin’ up to our mama cows because their own mamas had been killed. I assured them it weren’t the case. Sometimes it’s hard to just take bad news like a man and leave well enough alone.”
“We could go have a talk with the owner of the outfit. I don’t know the fellow, but I’m willing to try and smooth ruffled feathers.”
“It’ll pass. Leave well enough alone,” Gus suggested. “Once they get back to their outfit, it’ll come clear to them.”
“I hope so. We have enough trouble around here from the Indians. Don’t need to be starting up bad relations with the neighbors.”
“There’s bound to be more trouble as time goes on. They fight over cows in Texas like drunks on a Saturday night. Down that way you have to worry about the Mexicans comin’ in to steal cattle and taking them back over the border. You think you got it bad here with folks tryin’ to change brands and make them over for their own—down south they get downright
loco
. They’ll add a bar or swirl, tack on a circle or horseshoe, all to change the brand. I pity the cow that has to wear a Mexican brand.”
Cole shook his head and wondered if they’d really have to start looking out for such things. The country had been so free of that kind of worry. Oh, the occasional head or two were taken, usually by Indians, but to imagine people going out of their way to steal heads of cattle for their own stock . . . well, it just wasn’t something Cole wanted to deal with at this point.
“There’s other problems too. I heard tell a big sheep outfit is moving in just south of us. Sheep are bad news. They’ll eat the grass out at the root. Leave us with nothing for range feed.” Gus shook his head. “I see the day comin’ when we’ll be fencing everything in as far as the eye can see.”
Cole couldn’t help but laugh at that thought. “It’ll take a whole heap of rail to fence in Montana.”
Gus wiped his wet face with the back of his shirt sleeve. “Yup, but some folks won’t have it any other way. Mark my words, the times are changin’. Sheep and fences, farmers and rustlers. It’s all come a-courtin’.”
C
OLE HAD STILL NOT RETURNED BY THE TWENTY-SIXTH,
and Zane felt it imperative he get back to the fort.
“Look,” he told Dianne as he mounted his horse, “stay close to the house. Don’t go off for long rides. Keep plenty of water and food close at hand and use a bell or something else you can clang to get everyone’s attention in case you need to bring everyone up to the main house. It couldn’t even hurt to have an outrider or two keeping watch. Someone on a fast horse with a keen eye for movement, in case the Indians decide to attack.”
“I’ll do my best,” she told Zane. She glanced over her shoulder to see Koko wipe away a tear. The tension of the Indian conflicts was causing her a great deal of concern about her brother.
“You may run into Cole,” Dianne said, meeting her brother’s serious expression. “If you do, share this information again—just in case I somehow forget.”
Zane nodded. “I’ll be in touch. Try not to worry.”
He pulled the reins hard to the right and kicked into the horse’s sides. “Haw!” he called, pushing the horse into an immediate gallop down the muddy drive.
It had rained off and on all night—much needed moisture, but not at the best of times. Rain would make it harder to move the cattle. Rain would delay Cole further.
The day after Zane had gone, Dianne felt a restlessness that she couldn’t explain. She thought about all the instructions Zane had left and considered what they might do to make themselves safe from attack. She had it in mind to call a meeting that night and have all of the remaining ranch hands and other residents join together for supper. She reasoned it would be easier to discuss the matter in full with everyone around the same table.
If only Cole were here to lead it. I’d much rather this be his decision,
she thought. But there simply wasn’t time to wait. Zane implied that the need was immediate—that danger could be just over the next ridge.
Thoughts like that caused Dianne to worry that perhaps Cole and the others had met with harm. After all, they would be out there all alone, well away from help or other people. Only those folks who shared in roundup would be present, and if a band of Indians could take on and destroy a wagon train with a few hundred people, they’d have no trouble with twenty or thirty cowhands.
Leaving Koko to watch over Lucas, Dianne decided to take a short walk around the immediate area and assess what needed to be done. She would heed Zane’s warning not to go far, but she felt the desperate need to do something other than merely wait for trouble to come to her. Taking up a rifle, Dianne walked out onto the front porch and gazed down the long lane toward her beloved hilltop perch. There was no one there to indicate any problem or the return of her men. She sighed and stepped from the porch, heading toward the first barn.
In the corral outside, there were two wild horses. One of the men had been working with them throughout the winter. They would soon be tame enough to begin breaking in earnest. They were good, strong ponies, and Dianne looked forward to seeing how they reacted to training. She felt confident they would make good cow horses.
In the distance beyond Faith and Malachi’s cabin, Dianne’s eye caught sight of movement. She froze in place, doing her best to listen first before she reacted. It might only be an animal—a deer or elk—even a grizzly. She put her hand to her forehead, hoping to shield the sun and give herself a better view.
The image of a man crouching in the brush startled her. She knew if she could see him, he could probably see her as well. Dianne pulled the rifle in front of her and wondered what she should do. She didn’t want to alarm the others, but neither did she want to leave them without warning. Just as she moved toward the house, however, the man got up and darted back into the trees.
“Indians,” she murmured. She began to tremble and her breathing quickened. Had the Sioux come to attack? The man was clearly an Indian, but she hadn’t gotten a good enough look to tell if he were Sioux or some other tribe.
She moved slowly backward, hoping she might get another glimpse of the man. By the time she made it to the porch, however, she’d seen nothing. Leaning against the post, her rifle still ready, Dianne pondered the situation. She couldn’t very well go out there to investigate, and if the woods were full of Sioux warriors, there was no time to warn anyone and get them into the house.
Then movement once again caught her eye. The wind picked up ever so slightly, rustling the trees and brush in the direction she’d seen the Indian. She held her breath and leaned forward. Much to her relief a somewhat familiar sight came to her eyes.
“Takes Many Horses,” she breathed and immediately relaxed her hold on the rifle. He waved from across the field. Dianne waved in return and watched as he turned to motion to someone.
From their hiding place, three other Blackfoot warriors emerged—one of them the man she’d seen just moments earlier. As they drew near, Dianne could see that they were all very dirty and they looked very tired. Takes Many Horses approached her first, smiling in his lazy manner as if they’d parted company only the day before.
He stopped about eight feet away. “Stands Tall Woman, your ears and eyes do you proud.”
“We’ve been very worried about you,” Dianne said in greeting. “You’re welcome here—you and your friends. Come around back where you can wash up, then I’ll feed you all.”
He watched her for a moment. “Where is your man?”
“Roundup. I figured you already knew that. You surely have watched the ranch and seen that most of the men are gone.”
“Yes. We saw, too, that the white soldier was here.”
“My brother Zane.”
Takes Many Horses nodded. “Is he looking for us?”
Dianne shook her head. “Not at all. He’s headed off to pursue the Sioux and Cheyenne and return them to their reservations.” She paused and bit her lip. There were a hundred questions she longed to ask him.
“We are renegades,” Takes Many Horses said matter-of-factly.
“The soldiers are after us—at least they were.”
“So you have left the reservation? Will you return?”
He shook his head and gave a pretense of dusting off his flannel shirt. “No. I will not live as a caged animal. I will die a free man.”
“George!” Koko declared as she came out the door, Lucas in her arms. She handed the fussy baby to Dianne and rushed to embrace her brother. “I’ve been so worried. Where have you been? Why haven’t you written me or come to see us?”
He held his sister for a moment, but his gaze was ever fixed on Dianne. “I’m sorry to have worried you, but there was much trouble.”