The Coming Storm (2 page)

Dianne couldn’t help but remember the little sisters she’d lost on the wagon trail coming west. Ardith was only ten when she was swept away in a flood-swollen river. Betsy was six when a mule kicked her in the head, killing her instantly. The losses were hard for Dianne to bear. Hard, too, for their pregnant mother, who died later that same year, taking the unborn Chadwick sibling with her. That left Dianne only her older brothers: Trenton, whom she hadn’t heard from in years, and the twins, Morgan and Zane. Zane was nearby, living the life of a frontier army soldier, while Morgan remained at the ranch.

Dianne made her way to the house, lost in thought. Morgan wouldn’t stay on for long. Over the last few months he’d taken to going off for days, sometimes weeks, by himself. He’d heard about some caves to the northwest and had gone to explore them. Before that, he’d traveled to the Yellowstone River country, anxious to see some of the wonders he’d heard about. He’d been turned back by hostile Indians, barely escaping death at one point. No, it wouldn’t be long before Morgan left for good.

The cabin was deathly quiet. Dianne threw off her coat and gloves and made her way quickly to her aunt and uncle’s room. “Koko?”

Dimly lit by a single lamp, the room portrayed ominous shadows as Dianne moved to Koko’s bedside.

“The baby’s coming . . . early,” Koko said, her upper lip beaded with sweat in spite of the chill in the house. She said no more, as a wracking cough overtook her. Dianne went to her and helped Koko sit up until the cough subsided. Pain marred the pretty woman’s features, but Dianne wasn’t sure if it was from the contractions or the pneumonia.

Regaining her ability to speak, Koko leaned back wearily. “It started a couple hours ago, but I thought it would pass. Now I know it’s too late. I can feel the baby coming.”

“I’ll get the fire going.” Dianne looked around the room. “Where’s Jamie?” “Morgan took him to help get the milk cows into the barn.”

“Good. That will keep him occupied for at least a short time,” Dianne said as she went about the room gathering some of the things they’d need for the delivery. “You just rest as well as you can. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Dianne remembered from when Jamie had come into the world that birthing generally took hours. She calmed her hurried steps, reminding herself that her anxiety would do nothing to help Koko.

“How is she?” Bram asked as he burst into the house. “She’s feverish and seems very weak,” Dianne admitted. “She hasn’t slept well in days. The sickness, you know.” “I know. She was telling me that just yesterday.” Dianne held back from saying anything more. She didn’t want to unduly worry her uncle. Koko’s failure to improve had concerned Dianne so much she’d thought of riding to Virginia City or Ennis for a doctor—but she wasn’t sure anyone would make the trip for a woman who was part Indian.

Koko gave an uncharacteristic scream, sending both Dianne and Bram rushing to the bedroom.

“It’s the baby—now!” Koko cried. Coughing again overwhelmed her. She doubled up on her side and made a gasping, wheezing sound as she tried to clear her lungs.

Dianne turned to Bram. “This is much quicker than expected. Bring me some of the heated water from the stove.” She then turned to Koko. “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.”

Dianne rolled up her sleeves and checked on the baby’s progress. Sure enough, the head was already crowning. A few pushes and this baby would be born.

There was no time for panic or worry. Dianne gently guided the infant’s small head as Koko bore down to push the baby from her body. A tiny, squalling girl emerged. Dianne thought the baby seemed quite mad about the interruption to her warm, quiet existence.

Laughing, Dianne cut the cord just as Bram returned with the water. “Congratulations, Papa. It’s a girl.”

“Sounds like a girl,” Bram teased. “She’s already caterwauling about something.”

Dianne laughed and worked quickly to clean the baby and get her wrapped warmly. The little girl was half the size Jamie had been at birth. She probably weighed no more than three or four pounds.

Bram remained at his wife’s side. “You did a fine job, Koko. I’m so very proud.”

Dianne glanced up to see Koko offer a hint of a smile. “She’s our little Susannah,” Koko replied.

Dianne started at this. “You’re naming her after Mother?”

Bram nodded. “We decided if it was a girl, we’d name her after my sister and Koko’s mother. The baby will be called Susannah Sinopa.”

Dianne brought the baby to her mother. “What a pretty name. Sinopa means
fox,
right? Perhaps she’ll be wily and graceful like a fox.” She placed the infant in Koko’s arms and pushed back a strand of hair that had come undone from Koko’s braid.

“Susannah seems much too long for such a little one.” She gently touched her finger to the baby’s cheek.

“I’m bettin’ she’ll grow into it,” Bram said, smiling.

“You could always call her Suzy,” Dianne suggested. “At least while she’s little. Jamie and Suzy sound good together.” She smiled in admiration for the little family.

After tending to Koko, Dianne built a fire in the bedroom fireplace. The baby seemed unable to maintain her body temperature, so Bram suggested they heat the room well and move the bed closer to the fire. Morgan arrived to help with the move, and Jamie got his first view of his new baby sister.

“She’s too little,” he said firmly. “I want a bigger one.” Jamie, who’d spoken with a great vocabulary since his first words, was not shy about sharing his opinion. Nearing three years of age, he appeared to be quite the authority on such matters.

They all laughed as Bram scooped up his son. “She’s just the right size. If she were bigger, you wouldn’t be able to look out for her as well. We’re going to need you to help us keep little Susannah safe from harm. You’ll help, won’t you, son?”

Jamie nodded solemnly. “I help.”

“Good boy. I knew we could count on you.’

‘If she . . . if she . . . gets bigger,” Jamie chanted, “we can play.”

“That’s true,” his father agreed. “But this is how God sent her to us, and God always knows best, right?”

Jamie looked at his sister and then at his father. “I talk . . . I talk to God. He can . . . make her bigger.”

They all laughed at this. Dianne moved across the room to ruffle her nephew’s hair. “I think it would be just fine to pray that, Jamie. We want Susannah to grow bigger and stronger every day. I think it would be perfect if you would pray for your sister and ask God to make her bigger.”

Jamie seemed delighted by this news and despite Koko’s illness and the early delivery, the household in general was joyous in the celebration of this new life.

As evening came on, however, the wind picked up with a ferocity that surprised everyone. The howling sound was enough to put everyone’s nerves on edge, but as the temperature continued to drop, Dianne worried about the baby’s ability to stay warm.

She worried, too, about Koko, who showed no signs of recovery. Every time Koko tried to put Susannah to her breast, the poor baby was interrupted by the coughing. She’d had far too little nourishment today. If she wasn’t able to adequately feed the baby soon, Dianne feared the child wouldn’t thrive.

Dianne glanced out the kitchen window, praying it wouldn’t snow. There was just so much to worry about all at once. Uncle Bram had been confident the storm wouldn’t be that bad. Still, Dianne knew he worried about his stock. Would they be all right? Would a sudden blizzard come up and threaten them all?

Bram had already arranged for some of the hands to bring in extra firewood. Dianne knew they’d have to conserve fuel in case things remained unusually harsh. She had the fire in Koko’s bedroom stoked but otherwise had limited the rest of the house. She had a nice blaze going in the kitchen stove, which was why she hadn’t yet retired to her own bedroom. No doubt it would be very cold in that part of the house, but Koko had made her a fine buffalo cover. Dianne knew once she was buried under its warmth she’d sleep quite comfortably no matter how low the temperature dropped.

She yawned and pulled away from the window. It was times like these when she really missed Cole. She worried because she couldn’t remember the sound of his voice. Did that mean she didn’t love him as deeply as she believed? Wouldn’t true love always remember the tiniest of details?

She could still see his face—every line and feature. She imagined his windblown hair and his lopsided grin.

Dianne felt despair wash over her. “So why can’t I remember his voice?”

Just then Bram came in from checking on the livestock. “Everything out there seems to be just fine. How about in here?” he asked, stuffing his gloves into his coat pockets.

“They’re both sleeping. I gave Koko some tea mixed with the herbs she suggested. It eased her cough and allowed her to nurse Susannah just a bit.” She hesitated but knew she couldn’t lie to her uncle. “I’m worried about them both. Susannah won’t thrive if Koko can’t nurse her. And Koko’s sickness continues to weaken her.”

Bram nodded solemnly. “I know.”

Dianne saw the worry in his expression. “I’m doing all I can, but I wish we had a doctor.”

“It’s not likely one would come in the dead of winter—much less for a woman who’s half Blackfoot.”

“Yes, I already figured that. Maybe if the weather gets better, you could . . . well, this may sound crazy, but what about trying to locate her mother’s people? Perhaps a tribal doctor could help.”

Bram shook his head. “No, they’re too far away. Hundreds of miles. No, what we need is a miracle. An honest-to-goodness miracle.”

Dianne knew the truth of it. “Then that’s what we’ll pray for.”

The next day the winds died down and the skies were a clear icy blue. They had received only a dusting of snow, much to everyone’s relief. Koko seemed no better, however. Her fever refused to abate, and the cough was still relentless. Susannah seemed weak, and although Dianne tried to spoon fresh milk into her mouth a few drops at a time, it just wasn’t enough. Feelings of helplessness overwhelmed Dianne at times.

“I brought you two pails of milk,” Morgan announced, coming in from the back porch. “Oh, and we spotted a couple folks walking this way—maybe a mile or more off. I can’t imagine what would bring anyone out in this cold, but there they were. Uncle Bram spotted them first.”

Dianne checked the coffee pot. “There’s plenty of hot coffee to thaw them out. Who do you suppose it is?” She went to the woodbox, realizing she’d better get the morning meal cooking if they were to have guests.

“I couldn’t say. They were still a ways off. Uncle Bram decided to drive out and fetch them back.”

Dianne nodded. “They must be very cold.” She threw extra wood in the stove. “Hungry, too, I’d imagine. I’ll get breakfast on and make enough for them as well.”

She hurried to cut thick slabs of ham. The meat had hung on the back porch all night and was frozen clear through. Nevertheless, Morgan had given all of her knives a fine edge, and the one she used sliced the meat as though it were nothing more difficult than bread. With the meat cut, Dianne pulled two castiron skillets from the wall and began heating them atop the stove. She tossed the ham in to begin cooking, then directed her attention to the rest of their meal.

The biscuits were already prepared and sat in a covered basket on the table. Dianne hadn’t planned on making gravy but decided with visitors coming she’d whip some together as well.

“Would you take this pitcher and bring me back some milk?” she asked Morgan.

“It hasn’t been separated yet.”

“That’s all right,” Dianne replied, turning the ham so it wouldn’t burn. “We’ve got plenty of butter, and a rich gravy will stick to the bones. Just bring me the milk as is.”

Morgan did as she asked, and soon Dianne had the ham steaks stacked on the platter and the gravy bubbling in the skillet. She’d no sooner added salt and pepper than the back door opened to reveal Uncle Bram.

“Ummm, smells mighty good in here.” He pushed the door back and stepped aside. “I’ve brought you a surprise, Dianne.”

“Me?” she asked, turning to see what he could possibly mean.

As the two frozen figures unwrapped their faces and pulled away thick knitted scarves, Dianne could see exactly what her uncle was talking about.

“Faith! Malachi!” It was the two former slaves she’d met on the wagon train. Going to her dear friend Faith, Dianne embraced her. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t either. We prayed we’d find you,” Faith said between chattering teeth. “Been asking all over the valley.” Her skin, generally a beautiful coffee color, had grown pale, almost ashen.

“Come warm up by the stove. We haven’t had our breakfast yet, so I made extra when I heard we had company coming.” Dianne stood back as Malachi joined his wife. “I’m so happy to see you both.”

Malachi nodded. “Thank ya kindly, Miz Dianne.”

Dianne waited until they’d had a few moments to warm by the fire before making introductions and taking their coats. Faith and Malachi remembered Morgan from the wagon train, and they squatted down to greet Jamie.

“We’ll get some hot food and coffee into you, and that will warm you up to be sure,” Dianne said as she hurried to hang up their things on the pegs by the back porch door. “Everyone sit down, and I’ll bring the food.”