Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] (11 page)

Dianne dressed for bed, pulling a lightweight sleeping gown over her head. She sat down to brush out her long hair and ponder the situation. She needed to speak to Cole—to convince him to return immediately to Montana. Winter would soon be coming to that part of the country, and they needed to arrange to move back to the ranch.

With each brush stroke Dianne tried to imagine how she might approach the subject. She was still angry with Cole’s mother and knew it would never do to try and confront Cole with what had happened. In fact, she was beginning to doubt he’d even believe her.

She finished with her hair and still Cole hadn’t come to join her. Deciding to sit up and wait for him, Dianne picked up her Bible and slipped into bed. She leaned over and turned up the lamp in order to read, then opened the Bible to the Psalms.

By ten o’clock Cole was still nowhere to be found. It wasn’t like him to be up so late, and it worried Dianne. Getting out of bed, she pulled on her robe and decided to go in search of him. He might be sitting alone, wondering what to do. He very well might need her. At least Dianne hoped he still needed her.

She went down the back stairs, thinking he might be in the kitchen, but he wasn’t. Dianne slipped through the house, investigating each room, but found them all dark and silent. She was about to give up when she caught the sound of voices coming from outside. Apparently Cole and his mother were talking on the front porch.

Dianne went to the open door, thinking she might join them. But she halted as Cole’s voice seemed to fill the quiet night.

“Dianne won’t be happy with my decision,” he began.

“She’s your wife,” Mary Selby countered. “It’s time she learned her place, son. A wife should go where her husband leads, not the other way around.”

Dianne seethed. Cole had made a decision—obviously to stay—without so much as discussing it with her. She held herself in check, longing to burst out the door and declare them both insane. How could he do this to her?

She hurried back through the house and up the stairs. Her heart was racing, pounding in a fury of anger. She hugged her arms close.
I won’t stay. I won’t stay here on the farm. I’ll take my children and go back home. I’ll do it tomorrow if need be
.

She paced her room for what seemed to be hours before Cole finally appeared. She said nothing, hoping maybe she’d misunderstood the entire scene.

“I’m surprised you’re still up,” Cole said as he began to unbutton his shirt.

“I thought it might be important for us to talk,” Dianne replied. She plopped into the only chair in the room and watched her husband carefully.

“Yes, I need to talk to you about the farm and about being here,” he admitted. “I was just speaking with Mother about it.”

“I thought husbands and wives were supposed to discuss things first. I thought we were supposed to make these decisions together.”

Cole frowned. “Sometimes a man has to make decisions alone, Dianne. Sometimes it’s difficult to include too many other people in some plans.”

“But you could include your mother, is that it?” she said as she stood up and started pacing across the small room.

He took off his socks. “You need to hear me out.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to finally bother speaking to me. I suppose I should be grateful,” she said sarcastically.

“Dianne, you’re acting childish. You need to stop it now.” Cole’s tone was the same one he used when getting after one of their disobedient children. Dianne resented being treated this way and was about to stress that fact, but Cole held her in check.

“Just listen for a minute and keep silent. I’m tired of your anger and bitterness. I can hardly stand to be in the same room with you for ten minutes because of it.”

Dianne was shocked by this revelation. Shocked and wounded. She stepped back as if he’d slapped her.

“I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you with my words, but honestly I don’t know how to cope with this anymore. My family is in need—my mother is alone. I can’t simply leave her to fend for herself.”

She remained speechless. She was still trying to understand Cole’s comments about her bitterness. Never had she felt so empty and lonely.

“When your family was in need, I was there for them. Now I’m asking you to do the same for mine. My father is dead and my mother is trying as best she can to endure. The farm needs attention that she cannot give it.”

Cole came to within a foot of where she stood. His eyes seemed to implore her to understand. Dianne knew to say anything against his mother would be insensitive. She could see that he was torn—even hurting.

“Dianne, please help me in this. I can’t bear your anger anymore. This isn’t some trick to keep you from the ranch and your beloved mountains. It isn’t a husband asserting his authority in order to establish control over his wife. It’s a simple plea for help—for assistance.”

She had never heard him like this—he was very nearly begging. “What do you plan to do?” she asked softly. “What are you asking of me?”

“I’ve told Mother that we’ll stay,” he replied.

She felt an iron band tighten around her chest. She could scarcely draw a breath. Feeling lightheaded, she reached for the chair and dropped into it. Cole came to her, kneeling at her feet. He took hold of her hand, but she barely felt his touch. He meant to keep her here—a prisoner far from all she loved. There were no words.

“Dianne, it’s only for a time—just through winter. By spring I’ll convince my mother that selling the farm is the prudent and wise thing to do. Hopefully she’ll see that she can move with us to Montana or live with my sisters and still be happy. Right now, nothing seems suitable to her, because of my father’s passing. She feels lost and has told me so. The thought of the long winter months alone frighten her.”

Dianne shook her head as sorrow washed over her. She couldn’t even look at him. He had betrayed her. He had chosen his mother’s manipulation over her needs. Nothing would ever be the same between them.

“Dianne?”

She got to her feet, nearly knocking him aside. In a manner borne out of routine, she slipped the robe from her shoulders. She carefully placed it across the foot of the bed, then climbed into bed. Leaning over, she blew out the lamp, leaving only the lamp on Cole’s side of the bed to light her husband’s way.

“Dianne, talk to me.” He came to her and added, “Please.”

She lifted her head, finally meeting his eyes. She recognized the longing there—longing for her communication and understanding, but she didn’t have any to give. “There’s nothing to say,” she finally murmured. “You’ve already made your choice … and it wasn’t me.”

CHAPTER 8

Butte, Montana Territory
September

“Z
ANE
C
HADWICK
, I’
D LIKE YOU TO MEET
M
R.
T
HEODORE
Roosevelt of New York City and lately of the Dakota Territory,” Morgan introduced. “He’s the man I mentioned back in Virginia City.”

Zane extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Roosevelt.”

“And I you, Mr. Chadwick. This is quite the territory. Yes, sir, quite the territory.”

The man’s squeaky voice detracted from his otherwise rugged look. He’d dressed in hunting clothes, obviously ready to give chase at a moment’s notice. His eyes seemed ever searching, almost as if he were trying to analyze everything at once.

“My brother tells me you’ve come to hunt mountain goat,” Zane began. “I wish you the best. Goats are not easy to take down. They have a way about them. Just when you think them cornered with no place to go, they defy gravity and all that is normal and head straight up rock walls and granite cliffs.”

“Sounds like a New York politician,” Roosevelt countered with a great guffaw. “Of course, I know firsthand about such matters.”

Zane grinned. “Nevertheless, you’re in for the hunt of your life.”

“So I’ve heard,” he said. “The goats intrigue me greatly, and I look forward to the hunt.”

“Mr. Roosevelt,” Morgan offered, “is running for mayor of New York City.”

“That sounds like a daunting job.”

Roosevelt laughed. “That doesn’t even begin to describe it. Corruption runs rampant and must be stopped. There are criminal types who believe themselves immortal and above the law. You show them the error of their thinking—show them the very laws they’ve broken—and they simply throw the book out the window and ignore you. I intend to see that changed.”

“Well, I wish you the best in that hunt also,” Zane replied. He liked this man, Roosevelt. He didn’t act pretentious or put on airs. He simply seemed to be the kind of man who saw a problem and set about to resolve it.

“We thought you might join us for supper. It’s nearly that time, you know,” Morgan said, pulling out his pocket watch. “Actually, it’s well past. It’s already six-thirty.”

Zane nodded. “Supper sounds good. There’s a great restaurant nearby.”

“Wonderful,” Roosevelt said. “Lead us.”

Zane enjoyed his evening very much. The supper was more than satisfactory with thick beefsteaks so tender they could nearly be cut with a fork. Zane couldn’t remember food this good since leaving the Diamond V.

“My own ranch in the Dakota Territory produces beef every bit as flavorful,” Roosevelt declared, “but I dare not say as tender.”

“My sister’s ranch produced quality beef as well,” Zane responded. “I was just remembering how hard it was to strike out on my own and leave those wonderful meals behind.”

“And where is your sister’s ranch?”

Zane glanced at Morgan. “It’s in the Madison Valley—or was. A fire some years back destroyed most of it. She and her family live in Virginia City as they prepare to return to the ranch. I hope it will once again become a great ranch.”

“Have they stock?”

“Not much,” Zane told him. “They sold off a good number prior to moving to town. They’ve invested the money, taking some of it to create a freighting business. They have done quite well in this and have put money aside to replace the stock when they move back to the ranch this fall.”

“I could make arrangements to sell them several hundred head.” Roosevelt reached for his coffee. “Put them in touch with me.”

“I will,” Zane promised, then turned to Morgan. “You’ve been very quiet this evening.”

Morgan laughed. “Mr. Roosevelt has already heard most of my stories. We figured you’d be our entertainment tonight.”

Grinning, Zane picked up his own coffee cup. “I don’t know how entertaining I can be, but talking has never been a problem.”

“Tell me about the copper industry,” Roosevelt requested. “Tell me about the troubles you’re facing here in Butte.”

Zane put down the cup. “It’s not good. The prices have dropped dramatically due to the large quantity of ore being mined. In turn, some of the best mines have had to let workers go and close. Digging copper is not without its expense. Not only do you need workers, but you must have machinery to pump water from the mine and transport the ore in and out, along with the men. There’s also the lumber situation. Mines use a great deal of lumber.”

“And how is this resolved? Your landscape has been quite defoliated.”

Zane nodded at Roosevelt’s comment. “Marcus Daly is a good friend of mine and very successful in the copper industry. He has struggled with this issue as well. He made a pact with the Northern Pacific Railroad, which holds vast tracts of forested areas. He’s also managed to make agreements with western lumber barons. Still, he keeps searching. He sent me earlier this summer to arrange additional possibilities for lumber.”

“Seems a pity to destroy forests for copper,” Roosevelt said thoughtfully. “I’m a strong believer in protecting the land. I’ve been most impressed with this part of the country. I’d like to see it remain as wondrous for the generations to come. This town must surely have held beauty at one time. Mismanagement has destroyed its appearance.”

“I agree,” Morgan threw in. “I hate seeing the destruction. This area was once quite lovely and now it’s hardly fit for man or beast.”

“Unfortunately, if the copper prices don’t recover, we may see this town suffer great loss and it won’t matter what kind of lumber we can lay our hands on or how lovely it is or isn’t.” Zane tossed back the last of his coffee. “Already we’ve lost several hundred people. They’ve moved on, afraid that the job losses will never be recovered. I don’t believe that personally, but it’s hard to convince a man who has hungry mouths to feed that he should be patient.”

“True enough,” Roosevelt agreed.

Zane had no desire to continue focusing on the sad state of the town. “So, Mr. Roosevelt, what made you decide to run for mayor?”

“I’ve been involved in politics since I was twenty-three years old. In fact, it was a great interest when I was in attendance at Harvard College. Honest men cannot stand by and allow for corruption and destruction of all that is good. They must take a stand.”

Morgan nodded solemnly, toying with his cup. “Honest men should do what they can, but at times it isn’t enough.”

“He’s right, you know,” Zane said. “I consider myself an honest man, but when faced with the ugliness and corruption of my superior officers while serving in the army, it seemed a hopeless battle. I eventually resigned, unable to make a difference for the good.”

“The battle isn’t simple or easy, to be sure,” Roosevelt admitted. “But much like hunting mountain goat, the task cannot be forsaken based solely on difficulty. I intend to see New York changed. I intend to see the world changed and not simply in my dreams. No, sir, I will see this reality.”

Zane smiled. No doubt this man could make that happen.