Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] (38 page)

The trip home was not going to be easy. The warm weather caused unmanageable roads and swollen streams. It also revealed something no one had been prepared for: hundreds of dead animals were scattered across the barren waterlogged valleys and hillsides. It was as if they had grouped together for warmth, then frozen in place with nowhere to go. The sheep and cattle hadn’t stood a chance with the blizzards coming upon them so quickly that many ranchers hadn’t had time to make provision.

“This is so awful,” Ardith said, her voice barely audible.

Death was everywhere, and Cole couldn’t help but wonder if it was a foretelling of things to come. He tried not to be discouraged, but after miles of mucky roadways and having to dig out the wagon more than once, he didn’t know that he had much courage left.

The land around them was eerily silent when they stopped that night on the trail. Cole couldn’t remember it ever being so still. The warmth of the day had caused the carcasses to begin rotting, and already the stench was building, adding to their restlessness.

The next morning the party moved in slow motion—at least it seemed so to Cole. Charity and Ardith fixed breakfast, but with the smell and sight of death around them, no one felt much like eating.

Ben led them in an abbreviated Sunday service, telling them that their strength would come from the Lord. Cole tried to get his mind around Ben’s words, but all around him were signs of hopelessness and destruction.

Yet Ben spoke of hope. “The word is given us in First Peter three, instructing that we should ‘always be ready to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.’ ” Ben held up the Bible and read on, “‘Having a good conscience; that, whereas they speak evil of you, as of evildoers, they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conversation in Christ.’

“We have hope in the Lord. It strengthens us when we have no physical reserves. It lights the darkness when we are discouraged. The hope is Jesus, and we’re to stand ready to tell others.”

Hope. Cole had abandoned the effort of even considering it until Ben forced his thoughts to focus once again.

“Looking around us today, it’s hard to have hope. Everything that could go wrong has seemed to do exactly that. Animals are dead. The land is struggling to recover from the elements. Our loved ones are hurting. It seems a right time to lie down and die.”

Ben’s words startled Cole. He looked up oddly at the old pastor. Ben smiled. “After all, don’t we know when we’re defeated? How can we hope to come back from this state of things? How can we have hope when we must bury our children? How can we have hope when we must bury our mates?”

Cole saw Ardith nod, tears trickling down her face.

“Hope is not found in ourselves, friends. It’s not found in our bank accounts or in our possessions. There is no hope in this world for us—for we are but strangers passing through.” He smiled and the compassion of his gaze began a healing in Cole’s weary heart.

“The answer comes in a simple truth—nothing so mysterious or difficult.” Ben closed his Bible and began to sing in his weak baritone voice. “‘My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly trust in Jesus’ name.’ ”

Charity joined in on the chorus. “‘On Christ the solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand; all other ground is sinking sand.’ ”

Cole listened as they continued together. He felt more bolstered in this simple act of worship than he had in all the months of church in Topeka—than in all his pleading and wrestling with God.

“ ‘When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace. In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.’ ”

The couple sang in such perfect harmony that Cole couldn’t help but miss Dianne more than ever. Darkness had seemed to hide God’s face. It was so very hard to understand why these things had to happen, but it seemed to Cole that Ben was suggesting that understanding wasn’t as important as hoping—trusting in Jesus.

Ben and Charity continued, and Cole found himself humming along. “ ‘His oath, His covenant, His blood, support me in the whelming flood. When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay. On Christ the solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand; all other ground is sinking sand.’ ” The words penetrated deep into Cole’s heart, through the fears of what might lie ahead and greet him at the ranch.
When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay
. Through the pain of the last few months.

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
.

The words were a balm—soothing, nurturing, healing. His hope was in Christ, and it should have always been there. How much time had he wasted in seeking other means of support?

How long had the answers to his fears been right in front him, only to be ignored?

The hope within was a hope that would never let him down. The hope within was Jesus.

Cole doused the campfire as Ardith and Charity finished loading the last of their things into the wagon. Straightening to face the sorry devastation around him, Cole looked at the land with new eyes. He felt rather like Noah must have after the flood. There was a lot of work to be done.

“Are you ready?” Ben questioned as he came to stand beside Cole.

“I wasn’t until just a few minutes ago,” Cole said, smiling. “But now I am. Now my footing is different. Now I’m back on solid ground.”

Ben smiled. There was nothing more to be said.

CHAPTER 25

T
HEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO REACH THE RANCH BY
noon, but instead it was nearly dark before the muddy wagon pulled into the ranch yard. Cole wished he could better see the place. Two cabins were built to stand about fifty yards apart, with a large barn behind one cabin. The land looked as barren here as it had elsewhere. The only trees to be seen were trunks that had been charred in the fire and small, immature saplings that had more recently been planted. At least there were no animal carcasses to deal with. Perhaps if there could be a blessing in the choices he’d made regarding the ranch, Cole could comfort himself in the fact that they had lost very little in the way of livestock.

Cole forced himself to look to where they’d buried Bram and Levi. He knew from what Dianne had told him that Gus was to be buried there as well. What he didn’t know was whether he’d find a fresh grave containing his wife’s body.

Cole drew a deep breath and held it while he looked for the graves and their markers. The ground seemed undisturbed. He let out his breath slowly. There were still only three graves.

But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. The ground has been
frozen solid. They might not have been able to bury her yet
. He grieved, longing to know the truth but terrified of it at the same time.

The door to the far cabin opened and George stepped out. He looked weary and much older than when Cole had last seen him. When he realized it was Cole and the others, he gave a whoop and jumped from the small porch. “It’s about time!” he declared good-naturedly.

Cole jumped down from the wagon and hugged the man tightly. “Dianne?” he questioned. He watched George’s expression sober and steadied himself for the worst.

“She’s all right. She’s still weak, but she’s alive,” George told him without hesitation. “She’s over at your cabin.” He pointed to the other place.

Cole started to leave, but George stopped him. “She’s been through a lot. She doesn’t understand why you didn’t come sooner, and I think she was afraid you might never come.”

“I never got her letter,” Cole told him. “My mother kept it from me. You have to believe me, George. I never knew about the baby. In fact, I never knew whether she made it home safely or not. I sent a telegram that was never answered, so I wasn’t sure she even wanted me back.”

George laughed. “You and Dianne are two of a kind. She’s been fretting all winter that you wouldn’t want her any longer—that you’d pick your ma over her and the children.”

“I could never do that. I know it seemed that way for a time, but George, I honestly felt the situation was impossible. I wanted to do the right thing by both of them, but then I found out my mother was just as manipulative as Dianne had been trying to tell me, and well … I realized I’d been a fool.”

“That isn’t an easy thing for a man to come to terms with.”

Cole shook his head. “Now I’m terrified of seeing her again. What if she tells me to leave and never come back?” He looked past George to the cabin where his wife and children were living.

George pushed him in the same direction. “She’d sooner cut off her arm,” he said before turning to greet the other travelers.

Cole didn’t bother to waste any time. He made a dash for the cabin and threw open the door without bothering to knock. The startled faces of his children greeted him in stunned wonder. Then as they recovered their shock, each of the children jumped up and ran to his embrace.

“Papa!” they cried in unison.

“I knew you would come,” Luke said, wrapping himself around Cole.

Cole fell to his knees and hugged them close, words failing him. How he had missed them. It seemed they had grown up in his absence. Even Lia was taller and so pretty. Just like her mother.

“Are you going to live with us again?” Lia asked as Cole lifted her into his arms.

“Yes,” he replied, ignoring the hurt it caused to have to face such a question.

“Only for a little while?” Micah asked. “Or is it forever?”

Cole felt his heart nearly burst with love and regret at the same moment. “Now and forever,” he said tearfully.

He glanced past the children to see Dianne standing in the doorway to one of the other rooms. He couldn’t take his gaze from her. He’d just pledged to his children that he would stay forever, but what if Dianne didn’t want him to stay? George might be wrong. It was a moment that Cole knew would decide his future.

“You children stay here and play. I need to talk to your Mama.”

“Mama’s been real sick,” Lia told him.

“Yes, I know.”

“Why weren’t you here?” John asked in an almost accusing tone. “Our brother died.”

Cole rubbed his son’s head. “I should have been here, but we’ll talk about it later. Right now, I need to be with your mama.”

John eyed him almost suspiciously. “She’s been real sick,” he repeated, as if a warning to his father.

Cole put Lia down and got to his feet. Walking to where Dianne stood, he pulled the hat from his head. “Please forgive me,” he said in greeting.

Dianne shook her head, and his heart nearly failed to beat. “Forgive me,” she murmured.

He tossed the hat aside and pulled her into his arms. Tears blinded him as he buried his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry. For everything. Sorry I couldn’t see what my mother was doing. Sorry about the baby. Sorry that you were alone.”

She cried softly in his arms. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I acted completely out of order. A Christian woman should never have left her husband’s side, no matter how ugly the situation.”

“Hush,” Cole said, pulling away enough to see her face. “You were right to go. It was the only thing that helped to clear my thinking. I couldn’t see what my mother and sisters were doing, but when you left it was as if the Lord opened my eyes to see the truth.”

“Why didn’t you come sooner?”

“Mother kept your letter from me. I never even knew you’d written. I never knew about the baby until George telegrammed me.”

“George sent a telegram? But until just a short time ago we were buried in snow and the storms were quite fierce. How could he have ever sent a telegram?” she questioned. “He would have had to …” Her voice fell silent.

“He would have had to risk his life in order to do so,” he finished for her. Once again George’s love for Dianne, and even for Cole, seemed clear. Cole felt shamed by the man’s unfailing loyalty to Dianne.
I couldn’t give her the same thing,
he thought, the sorrow of it binding his chest, making it hard to breathe.

“I came as soon as I heard,” Cole told her. “If I’d known about the baby, I would have come last fall.”

“Truly?” she asked him, her eyes searching his for the truth.

He thought only for a moment. “I would have come. I can’t bear it that you went through this alone. I’m so sorry about the baby.”

Dianne’s tears spilled again. “I was so sick, I didn’t even know he had died for a time. Then when Koko told me what had happened, I wanted to die too.” She pulled Cole into the bedroom and closed the door before continuing. The look on her face was one of grief mingled with guilt.

“I didn’t want the baby—not like I’d wanted the others. I thought you were gone for good and that this child would only be a reminder of sorrow and loss. I couldn’t bear to think about it. I just know that my lack of love caused him to die.” She walked away from Cole and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He could see her sorrow ran deep. She didn’t blame him for the baby’s death as he’d feared she would; she blamed herself. That was ten times worse as far as he was concerned. He sat down beside her on the bed.