Falling for the enermy

Newly returned Duke Caldwell is the son of her family’s enemy—and everyone knows a Caldwell can’t be trusted. Yet when Duke is thrown from his horse, Rose Bell puts her misgivings aside to help care for the handsome rancher. And soon there’s no denying that her childhood nemesis isn’t the scoundrel she thinks he is.

Duke keeps telling himself that his reasons for wanting to spend time with feisty Rose have to do only with ending their families’ feud—and not with how captivating he finds her. But though Rose might be willing to mend fences with the enemy, could she ever believe Duke worthy of her love?

Montana Marriages: Three sisters discover a legacy of love beneath the Western sky

“You’ve got a nasty gash on your forehead.”

“I can feel it clear to my toes.” Duke watched emotions flit across Rose’s face as she leaned closer to look at his head. First, concern, and then worry. Worry? Rose Bell worried about Duke Caldwell? It didn’t seem possible.

Her gaze returned to his and he caught a flash of something else he almost believed to be tenderness. For him? Hardly. The Bells were known for helping the sick and injured. That was all it was.

A tiny grin tugged at her lips and amusement filled her eyes. “Your handsome face will be forever marred.”

“I can live with that.”

“You’re fortunate to be alive.” Her eyes snapped in anger. “Why are you riding a wild horse around the country? Don’t you know you might have been killed?”

“Seems you should be happy about that. You haven’t exactly thrown out the welcome mat to me.”

Her expression slowly hardened, grew impassive.

He missed being able to read her emotions.

She sat back and pulled her hands to her lap. “That doesn’t mean I want to see you dead.”

“Good to know.”

LINDA FORD lives on a ranch in Alberta, Canada, near enough to the Rocky Mountains that she can enjoy them on a daily basis. She and her husband raised fourteen children—four homemade, ten adopted. She currently shares her home and life with her husband, a grown son, a live-in paraplegic client and a continual (and welcome) stream of kids, kids-in-law, grandkids, and assorted friends and relatives.

Big Sky Homecoming

Linda Ford

www.millsandboon.co.uk

I will praise thee;

for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

—Psalms 139:14

To mothers everywhere who bind the family together around the kitchen table with their meals, their treats, their advice and their love.

May your children arise and call you blessed for you turn houses into homes. God bless.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Bar Crossing, Montana January 1890

Rose Bell pushed back a scream of frustration. Even so, she spoke with more anger than sorrow. “The poor creatures. Pa, let me off here. You take Ma to the house and I’ll take care of these animals.” The sheep had been turned out of their pen and one of the older ewes was mired in a snowbank next to the shed. The others milled around, uncertain as to whether they should enjoy their freedom or panic because there were no fences to keep them safe.

At least they wouldn’t drown in the river today. It was frozen over. That was a mercy.

She hopped down before the wagon stopped moving and raced toward the ewe. “Come on, girl.” She pulled and tugged and cooed but the sheep had been there long enough her wool had frozen to the snow, anchoring her firmly.

“Can I help?”

With a startled squeak she turned around to stare at Douglas Caldwell, the golden-haired son and heir of the Caldwell family.

Everyone else called him by his nickname, “Duke,” but she couldn’t bring herself to. It sounded friendly and neighborly and the Caldwells were anything but that. Pa had bought this bit of land eight years ago and turned it into a productive farm. But it happened to encroach on the boundaries of the Caldwell Ranch. They learned later that the filing clerk had made a mistake. Despite that, the land belonged to the Bells—clear and legal.

To this day Mr. Caldwell refused to accept the facts. He had tried every means he could think of to get them to leave. He’d offered money. He’d talked; at first kindly then threateningly. When none of that worked he’d had his cowboys harass the Bells and their animals. The garden had been trampled a number of times. Caldwell cows had eaten or destroyed portions of the oat crop. Just a few months ago, one of the lambs had drowned when the animals had mysteriously escaped their pasture and found their way to the river. But the worst thing they’d done to date was stampede the cows through the yard as the Bells harvested the garden. Pa had been injured. He still had sore ribs. She knew by the way he moved and the number of naps he took that he felt poorly.

The cowboys always managed to make their activities look like accidents, so the sheriff couldn’t do anything.

It was on the tip of Rose’s tongue to tell young Mr. Caldwell she didn’t need his help but he’d already dismounted and come to her side. “It’s going to take a good pull to get her out of that.”

“I know.”

He grinned down at her. “Hello, Rose. How have you been?”

She pushed her hair back under her knit hat.

His gaze followed the movement of her hands. She half expected him to say something about her red hair as he’d done when they were in early grades at school. Instead his blue eyes darkened and he swallowed hard.

As if he liked what he saw.

She pressed her lips tight. The cold must be affecting her brain. Except she wasn’t cold. She’d worked up plenty of heat struggling with the ewe.

Surely she only imagined his look. She stole a glance at him. He still looked at what little of her hair showed from beneath her hat. He still had a bemused look about him.

Remembering his question, she said, “I’ve been just fine, Mr. Caldwell. Did Philadelphia survive your visit?”

He’d been gone a year, visiting his grandparents, and had returned a couple of weeks ago. In time to spend Christmas with his family.

“Philadelphia won’t even notice I’ve left.”

Odd way to put it. She hadn’t given it much mind but if she had, she would have expected him to sound regretful at having to leave the city. No, she hadn’t given it much mind, she silently mocked herself. Only thought of it maybe once or twice a day. She’d half expected to see him every time she went to town and every Sunday at church and even when she was out riding. That’s what happened when two people grew up in the same community. You got accustomed to seeing each other even if you weren’t on friendly terms.

The young man who seemed to be his new sidekick hurried over to the ewe and fell to his knees at her side. “You poor thing.” He wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Billy, this is our neighbor, Rose Bell.” Duke spoke softly, which brought Rose’s attention back to him so fast her neck creaked. She preferred to think of Duke as brash. Hearing him speak so gently, so tenderly—

Good grief, she was losing her mind.

“Rose, this is Billy Taylor.”

Billy got to his feet. “Hi, Rose. Pretty name. Just like your hair.” Billy stared at her hair.

Rose resisted an urge to push it more tightly under her hat. She felt again Duke’s study and forced herself to look directly at the young man he’d introduced. “Nice meeting you, Billy.”

Billy’s grin was wide and eager. He pressed a hand to his mouth and looked embarrassed.

It was hard to gauge his age but she guessed him to be in his early twenties. He didn’t seem the kind of companion she’d expect Duke to pick. But then, what sort did she expect?

She couldn’t rightly say. She’d done her best to avoid Duke all her life—partly because he teased her about her red hair but even more because he was a Caldwell. It had proved difficult to ignore him. They’d attended the same school. He was only a year older so they’d often ended up working together on some project. They’d gone to the same church. They’d even gone to the same gatherings where he’d often managed to become her partner at games.

Mostly, she assured herself, to annoy her and to tease her about her red hair.

Duke stepped into the deep snow beside the ewe. “What do you think, Billy? How are we going to get her out of this?” The ewe bleated at his arrival.

“You won’t hurt her, will ya?” Billy’s face wrinkled with concern. She realized he had the mind of a child, which confused her even more.

“Not if I can help it.” Duke tried to lift the edges of the ewe’s fleece. “She’s froze in.” He stood to his knees in snow, tipped his hat back and scratched his forehead. “I don’t know anything about sheep. Can we pull her out?” He turned to Rose.

She realized she’d been staring at him and jerked her attention back to the sheep. What was wrong with her? She sucked in a steadying breath. The same thing that had been wrong with her the year before he’d left. She’d struggled with reconciling the teasing boy he’d been with the handsome young man he had turned into. He was even more handsome now. His blue eyes drilled into her thoughts and sent them skittering back and forth like the sheep around her. Some running, glad to be free, but then stopping, uncertain what they wanted to do with that freedom.

Now she was thinking like a stupid sheep. She closed the door to such foolishness. She, Rose Bell, age eighteen, was a levelheaded, practical sort of person. One who dealt calmly with challenges.

She moved closer to the ewe, which brought her closer to Duke. She stumbled in the deep snow and he caught her by the arm.

“Steady there.” His voice deepened.

Her cheeks burned and she knew they would be almost as red as her hair. He dropped her arm. A warm spot remained where it had been. She forced her attention to the bleating sheep. “She wouldn’t feel it if we pulled her wool free from the ice. Though she’ll likely be frightened.”

Billy tipped his head down to meet the ewe’s eyes. “We’re going to help you so don’t be scared. Okay?” He patted her head.

Just as Lilly would do.

Rose missed her twin sister so much. And her older sister, Cora, too. Not that she didn’t see them almost every Sunday. She even visited Lilly most Saturdays, as well. But Cora had married Wyatt in the fall and Lilly had married Caleb in December. Rose, alone, remained at home. Likely she’d stay with her ma and pa until they passed.

She was happy for her sisters in their newly wedded state but she didn’t figure she’d ever marry. Too many people cared about the background of the Bell sisters—or rather, their lack of background.

Ma and Pa Bell had found the three of them on the prairie when Cora was five and the twins only three. The girls could remember their papa riding away in a wagon with a promise to return, but two days and a night later, he had not. The Bells had taken the girls home and when no birth parents could be located, they’d adopted them. Not everyone approved. Not everyone thought the girls belonged in the community.

When she was about eight, Rose was in the store with her sisters and Ma. She had wandered down the aisles, fascinated by the display of the many colors of embroidery threads. Two women were in there, as well, and one had said to the other, “I wonder what the Bells have gotten themselves into. Taking in orphans like those girls. Who knows what sort of family they came from? I tell you, there’s something wrong with people who would abandon their children, and goodness knows how those traits are passed down to their offspring. Mark my words, you’ll see that mental weakness come to light soon enough.”

Then a teacher in school had made a point of calling the girls “adopted” at every opportunity. As if it marked them in a special—but not good—way.

All of that she could have overlooked if it hadn’t been for her unhappy experience with George Olsen. She’d thought him kind; a gentleman who’d eagerly accompanied her on walks about town.

But his mother had put an end to that. “We know nothing of their background. It’s important to think about that when you court a girl. You never know what kind of family you are getting involved with in Rose’s case. What kind of bloodlines does she carry? No, it’s better that you know what you’re getting into.” Mrs. Olsen had been unaware that Rose had seen and heard every word.

Rose had turned and fled. Her sisters and parents had persuaded her to tell them why she’d been so upset. Ma had hugged her and assured her the only background she needed was to know she was loved. “You are my sweet Red Rose. A young woman with determination in her veins. Rose, my dear, you will someday thank God for giving you your strong nature.”

After that, Rose had forsaken any idea of finding a beau. But she had not thanked God for her strong nature. Or her red hair.

Cora and Lilly had found men who were willing to overlook their lack of background.

Rose did not expect to be so fortunate.

Especially with someone the likes of Duke Caldwell...

She pressed her hand to her forehead. Where did such foolish thoughts come from?

Duke watched her with steady eyes filled with concern. “We can’t leave her here.”

He’d mistaken her despair for concern for the sheep, not concern for her own security. She knew where caring about a man would lead. Especially a Caldwell.

Not that she cared about Duke. Not in the least. Never had. Never would.

She started to pull the wool from the snow, strand by strand.

Billy murmured comfort to the sheep and Duke worked by Rose’s side, following her example. His hands were sure and gentle. He seemed not a bit put out to be helping a sheep even though he was a cattleman and they hated sheep. How many times had she overheard remarks in town? “Woolies destroy the grass. They eat it to the roots. It never grows back.”

She could have told the cowboys they were wrong, but knew there was no point. People believed what they chose to believe.

But Duke acted as though the ewe was no different than a cow or a horse. Or maybe he didn’t care what others thought of sheep.

It must be sweet to be so sure of oneself.

“This is Lilly’s first ewe. She calls her Mammy. Mammy will come when Lilly calls her.” She couldn’t stop talking. “But she won’t come when I call her. You wouldn’t think it would make a difference, would you?”

“I hear Lilly is married now.”

“And Cora, too. Cora and Wyatt and his brother, Lonny, are on Jack Henry’s ranch. You remember Jack Henry?”

“Yup.” He continued loosening wool and she continued her endless chatter.

“Lilly married Caleb. He has a little son, Teddy. They’re in town for now, though Caleb says he’ll be getting his own ranch come spring. Right now they want to be in town so Teddy can go to school. He couldn’t walk for a while.”

“That so?”

“It is.” And as suddenly as the burst of words had come, they ended. She couldn’t think of a thing to say.

They had Mammy’s wool loosened on one side and together they moved to the other.

A couple of minutes later Duke straightened and stuck his hands on his hips.

She grinned to herself and ducked her head. His stance should look powerful but with snow up to his knees it only looked as if he might lose his balance.

“What next?” he asked.

She waded out of the snowbank and turned to call, “Mammy, come, Mammy.”

Mammy bleated but made no effort to move.

Rose jammed her hands into fists. “Why will you come when Lilly calls you and refuse to come when I do?”

Billy hugged the sheep around her neck. “It’s okay. She’s not mad at you.” He backed up. “Come on, Mammy. You don’t want to stay here. The snow is cold.” As he backed toward Rose, Mammy followed.

“Good job. How did you do that?” Rose asked Billy, so pleased to see Mammy out of the snowbank she could have hugged the young man.

Duke chuckled. “Billy gets along well with animals.”

Billy beamed at Duke’s praise, then turned to Rose. “Where do you want her?”

She led him to the sheep pen and Mammy followed, bleating happily to be back inside.

Rose turned to contemplate the other animals. “Now, if only they would come as easily.” Then realizing it sounded as though she meant to ask them to help, she smiled at Billy. “Thanks for your help.” She turned to Duke. Her breath stuck halfway up her throat at his wide smile and flashing eyes. Must he look so handsome? So happy? So appealing?

“Thanks for your help, as well.” She managed to squeak the words out.

“Thank me when we’re done.” He held her gaze a moment, then turned toward the other milling sheep. “Billy, do you suppose you could call them in?”

“I’ll try... Come, sheepie. Come.”

A couple trotted toward him but the rest acted as though they couldn’t hear.

“Stupid sheep,” Rose muttered as she marched around the furthest one—the headstrong ram—hoping to head it in the right direction. Of course it ran the opposite way.

Duke ran around the animal, waving his arms. “Shoo. Shoo.”

The sheep skidded to a halt and looked around for a way of escape.

“Shoo. I said shoo.” He jerked his hands toward the sheep.

The sheep baaed and lowered his head. Should she warn him about how the ram reacted to being chased?

But before she could, Duke jumped toward the ram. She stared at the way the animal backed up, still bleating his protest. He turned tail and trotted toward the pen, never once losing his voice.

Duke hurried after the ram. “Shoo. Shoo.”

A cowboy on foot chasing a sheep! Who would have thought she’d ever see the day? When she told Lilly, they would get a good laugh out of it.

Grub, their flop-eared, useless but well-loved dog, loped toward the sheep. Until now he’d been supervising Ma and Pa unloading the wagon, hoping for a handout.

He ran straight into the midst of the sheep, scattering them every which way.

Duke’s eyes grew wide. “Stop. Shoo. Shoo.” He waved his arms madly at the sheep.

Rose started to giggle.

Duke pulled to a halt at her side. “Share the joke.”

She shook her head, not because she didn’t want to but because she wondered if he might be offended.

He nudged her with his elbow. “No fair. I like a good joke.”

“Very well.” She fluttered her hands toward the sheep who’d decided to ignore Grub and follow the ram. “Shoo. Shoo.” She tossed her head like an annoyed sheep. “Baa. Baa.”

No doubt seeing in her actions how silly he looked, he grinned at her and then a chuckle rumbled from him. They held each other’s gaze as they laughed.

“They’re all in,” Billy called.

Rose pulled the gate closed and secured it firmly, as she did each and every time.

“How did they get the gate open?” Duke asked.

“Not by themselves, you can be sure.” She slowly came about to face him. “And I think you know it. This is another of the Caldwell tricks.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. His expression grew fierce. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Oh, come on. Since we moved here, the Caldwell cowboys have harassed us endlessly.” The injustice of it burned a hot path through her thoughts. “Cows stampeded over the garden. Sheep turned out.” She waved at the tracks through the snow. “This fall a lamb drowned.”

Billy gasped.

“And my pa was injured when cows were run through the yard this fall.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” Duke averred.

“You’re a Caldwell.” She faced him squarely, her eyes burning with her raw feelings.

He studied her for a moment. Shock gave way to indifference. “Come on, Billy. It’s time to go.”

Without another word, they returned to their horses.

“Thanks for your help,” she said, reluctant to end the afternoon on such a sour note. For a few minutes they had worked together and laughed together.

Too bad it couldn’t be like that more often. But the land feud put them at enmity. That fact burned up her throat.

“Tell your father that the Bells aren’t leaving.”

* * *

“Rose is a pretty lady,” Billy said.

“She sure is.” In the year he’d been away, she had blossomed from child to woman. Not that she’d ever been ugly. He’d known her most of his life, attended the same school and the same church. But ever since he’d turned eleven years old they’d been separated by a wide chasm.

His father had never, nor would he ever, accept the mistake that had allowed the Bells to start a farm jutting into the boundaries of the Caldwell Ranch. Father resented the Bells taking advantage of the clerical error. The honorable thing to do, he’d insisted throughout the years, would be to stick to the spirit of the law rather than the letter of it. Worse still was the fact that the intruders were sodbusters who broke the land and put up fences. But the worst of all was that the Bells refused to budge despite every offer to buy them out and numerous attempts to drive them from the land. The whole disagreement had grown over the years until it had become a feud that made no sense.

“I like her,” Billy continued.

“Me, too.” He always had, though he hadn’t been able to express it properly when they were kids so he’d teased her. She’d gotten all prickly but beneath the prickly thorns was a beautiful Rose. He’d always known it but it had never been more evident than today.

He sat back in his saddle, reliving every moment of the afternoon. Rose, her face flushed from her exertion. Rose, her green eyes flashing as she laughed at him chasing the sheep. He grinned. He didn’t normally chase things on foot, but it had been worth it for those few moments of shared laughter.

His pleasure was cut short. She held him at least partially responsible for the feud simply because he was a Caldwell.

This feud should have ended years ago. His father had no call to try to drive the Bells from their land. It had to stop before someone got seriously injured. He’d noticed Mr. Bell limping the few times he’d seen him in town. He’d put it down to age. His teeth clenched. Instead, Rose held the Caldwells responsible. He knew Father would say it was an accident. Not the Caldwells’ fault in the least. But Duke knew Rose was likely correct—Caldwell cowboys had done it. And next time it might not end so well.

He rode up to the ranch house and dismounted.

“Billy, can you take care of the horses?”

Billy grinned as he took the reins of both animals. “I’ll brush ’em really good, Boss.”

Duke chuckled. Normally he wouldn’t have been so eager to take care of the animals, except all the cowboys were away, so no one would tease him. He’d met Billy in Philadelphia and, when he realized the young man had no family, had brought him back with him. Billy hadn’t started calling him “boss” until they’d arrived at the ranch and Billy had realized Duke’s family owned the place.

Still chuckling, Duke entered through the kitchen door. Mrs. Humphrey slipped cookies from a baking sheet onto a cooling rack.

“Mmm. Cookies. Smells good.” He snagged up two as he passed and bit into one. “Hot.”

Mrs. Humphrey shook a towel at him. “They just came out of the oven. What did you expect?”

“I sure did miss your cooking while I was away.” He crossed toward the sitting-room door.

“Glad to have you back, Duke,” she called.

“Not half as glad as I am to be back.” He’d enjoyed meeting his grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins in Philadelphia but every day he’d missed Montana.

He stepped into the sitting room and stared at the traveling bags lined up. Mother laid a coat across a nearby chair.

“You going away?”

“Governor Toole has sent your father an invitation to attend some meetings. Your father thinks he might be asked to work on a committee.”

“I need to speak to him before he goes.”

“You’ll find him in the office.”

Duke crossed the room and stepped into his father’s office. Father gathered papers together and slipped them into a satchel.

“Can we talk?” Duke waited, hoping his father would give him his undivided attention. He didn’t.

“By all means. I’m leaving you in charge while I’m gone.”

Duke’s chest swelled with anticipation. Since his return, he’d wanted to take on more responsibility.

“Not that there’ll be anything requiring attention. Ebner has things under control.”

The foreman. Duke’s chest deflated. Would his father ever see him as capable? It was ironic. Father—the one person who should value him as a Caldwell—didn’t, while others couldn’t overlook it.

He’d experienced it many times over his life. Like the time when Duke was fourteen and a man befriended him. Duke soon learned it was only so he could approach “Mr. Caldwell” for a favor.

Then there was Jane Johnson, a gal he’d courted for a very short time before his trip to Philadelphia. She’d expected gifts and tokens, and when he’d failed to bring them she’d claimed surely a Caldwell could afford to win her affections that way. He wasn’t interested in her anymore.

In Philadelphia, being a Caldwell had brought the ladies flocking to his side. He’d thought they were truly interested in him. Especially Enid Elliot. She’d hung on his every word. Made him feel ten feet tall. They’d even discussed marriage. He’d been about to offer his hand when he’d overheard her talking to her friends.

“He’s a Caldwell. His name and money are worth overlooking the fact I find him a bit loutish. All he talks about is his horse and his ranch.” She’d made a dismissive noise. “I have no intention of living out west. He’ll soon come to see my point of view.”

He’d come to his senses rather quickly after that and the offer of marriage had never been made. In hindsight, he considered himself fortunate to have discovered the truth beforehand, but it hurt to know her attention had been for such a selfish reason.

To Enid, being a Caldwell meant she could benefit from his name.

To Rose, being a Caldwell meant he was her opponent.

He wished he could just be Duke and have someone care about him for his sake alone.

He sucked in a long breath and focused on what he meant to say to his father. “I’ll manage everything.” He sank into a chair in front of the big mahogany desk. How often had he tiptoed into this room when Father was away and sat in Father’s chair, taken up pen and paper and pretended he was in charge? He’d planned the things he’d wanted to do, the changes he’d like to make. He’d implement a new breeding program with imported bulls. He’d put up hay for the winter—

Now was not the time for dreaming. “Father, could you sit down a moment?”

His father gave him a distracted look, then sat. “I don’t have long. We’re planning to leave first thing in the morning.”

That would give Father plenty of time to listen to Duke’s request and to act on it. “Father, I happened to ride by the Bells on my way home and found their sheep had been let out of the pen.”

“They should have better fences.”

Father and son studied each other, measuring, assessing. Duke would not blink, would not show any sign of weakness in front of this powerful man who considered his word to be law.

“Their fences and gates are perfectly adequate and I think you know it. Someone opened the gate and let the sheep out. Just like someone purposely drove the cattle over their property and did a number of other destructive things. Father, the land is theirs. We have no right to harass them. It’s wrong.” Knowing his father meant to go to Helena to see the governor, Duke saw how he could use that to his advantage.

“Governor Toole would not view it as appropriate. Don’t you think it’s time to end this?”

Father tented his fingertips and looked thoughtful.

Duke pressed his point. “Inform the cowboys to end their harassment before you go, then you can go to Helena knowing you’ve done the honorable thing.”

“Son, I think you’d make a good politician.”

Duke would be happy being a good neighbor.

Father pushed back from the desk and got to his feet. “You have a point. I’ll deal with this before I leave.”

Duke got up, too, and offered his hand to Father. They shook.

The feud was over.

He’d tell Rose himself.

* * *

He’d fine-tuned his plans last night and rose Sunday morning eager to start the day. He knew the Bells didn’t work on Sunday, so that afternoon would be a perfect opportunity to pay them a visit.

His parents left early for Helena as he and Billy prepared for church. They rode their horses into town, many greeting him as he swung down and strode toward the church steps.

The Bells were already seated in their customary place. He studied the new husbands some. They looked like nice enough fellows.

The Caldwells always sat on the left side of the church, two pews from the front. But today he chose a spot across from the Bells, in a back a row where he could watch Rose without appearing to.

She wore her rich red hair braided and wound around her head in a fetching way. Strands of it had escaped to hang down in little curls that brushed her neck.

His hands curled with an urge to lean across the aisle, capture a strand and let it drift through his fingers.

She turned and caught him staring. Her eyes widened.

He jerked his attention to the front and pretended he hadn’t been looking at her.

But as soon as she turned forward again, his gaze returned to her. Why had he never before noticed her slender neck and her high cheekbones?

Pastor Rawley stepped up to the pulpit and called them to worship.

It took every ounce of Duke’s self-control to concentrate on the service. As soon as it ended, he stood and waited for Rose to acknowledge him.

The two Sundays he’d attended since his return he’d been with his parents and they’d always avoided the Bells. Duke had no intention of doing so today.

Lilly approached first, introducing her husband, Caleb, and the little boy, Teddy. Then Cora introduced her husband, Wyatt, and his brother Lonnie. Mrs. Bell welcomed him home.

Mr. Bell, moving slowly as if in pain, shook his hand and greeted him pleasantly enough.

Only Rose passed by him without a greeting. She met his eyes steadily, pink blushing her cheeks as if she saw him through the eyes of a woman and not the eyes of an adversary. He hugged the knowledge to him.

Wouldn’t she be pleased when he told her that the Bells need no longer fear being hurt or having their property damaged by the Caldwells?

Other worshippers stopped to greet him.

Pastor Rawley spoke to him and asked about his parents.

Slowly he made his way down the aisle and reached the yard in time to see the Bells leave in three wagons. It appeared the whole family gathered together after church.

He considered riding over later, so eager was he to see Rose’s response to his announcement. But no, he’d delay until the next day when he could see her alone.

The rest of Sunday passed slowly, though Billy enjoyed it. They rode into the hills, where Duke showed the other man some of his favorite places—a grove of trees where he’d camped out several times, the buffalo wallow where he’d found several buffalo bones, the pond where he used to swim.

It was good to be home. It would be even better when Rose knew the feud was over and done with. How would she show her gratitude? He realized he stared into space, lost in dreams of possibilities, and forced his attention back to the here and now...

Finally, Monday arrived. He decided to wait until early afternoon, when she’d have her chores done.

“Billy, how about we go pay Rose and her family a visit?”

“Oh, I’d like that.”

“Let’s go saddle up.”

Billy rushed ahead of him. The young man loved animals and the horses responded to his entrance into the barn with welcoming nickers.

A few minutes later they rode across the prairie toward the Bell place. Duke took in a deep breath, full of fresh air the likes of which he had not breathed the whole time he was in Philadelphia. He pulled his horse to a halt so he could drink in the surroundings. The mountains were draped in white. The pine and spruce were almost black in the distance. Nearer at hand, the snow-dusted hills rolled to the river where the willow and poplar had shed their leaves and stood like quiet skeletons waiting the renewal of spring.

His gaze returned to the mountains. “You never saw anything like that back in the city, did you, Billy?”

“No.” Billy stared at the mountains. “Can we go there someday?” His words were round with awe.

“We sure can. But maybe we’ll wait until spring.”

“Okay. Are we almost to where Rose lives?”

Duke chuckled. “Are you anxious to see her?”

Billy ducked his head. “She’s pretty and nice.”

“How can you tell she’s nice?”

“I could tell by her voice when she talked to me.”

“I suppose you could.” The young man likely had more experience than most with hearing different tones in voices. As Duke well knew, people often mocked him. A kind voice would be refreshingly different.

“We’re almost there.” They crested a hill and looked down on the Bell farm. There was a new barn since he’d seen the place last year. The fruit trees had grown some and, if he wasn’t mistaken, there were more of them.

Pigs grunted in one pen, sheep milled about in another. He smiled as he recalled helping Rose chase them in. She’d made him laugh. He liked that.

Three milk cows chewed their cuds in another pen and a horse drowsed in the afternoon sun. It jerked awake and neighed at their approach.

“This is where Rose and her sisters lived with their ma and pa,” he told Billy. “I guess only Rose lives with her parents now.”

“How many sisters she got?”

“Two. You met them yesterday. Both of them are married and moved to their own places.”

“Aww. So Rose is all alone.”

“She’s still got her ma and pa.” He’d never considered that she might feel alone with her sisters gone. “She and Lilly are twins.”

“I never knowed any twins before. It makes her extra special.” He hesitated a moment. “I guess she misses Lilly.”

“I suppose so.”

“She’ll be glad you’ve come to visit.”

“We’ll see.” They continued toward the buildings.

Rose stepped from the barn and shielded her eyes to watch them approach.

As they passed the pigpen, his horse, King, snorted and sidestepped. “Settle down.”

He rode up to Rose and she looked at King as he pranced nervously. “Your horse looks like it belongs on a closed racetrack, not out on the prairie.”

“He’s a great horse.” Though a little high-spirited. Duke gripped the reins firmly. “I can handle him.” He waited for her to invite him to step down but when she didn’t, he swung off his horse and landed in front of her.

“Rose, I have good news for you.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“The feud is over. You won’t be bothered again.”

Her look went on and on, unblinking, steady and full of doubts.

“Believe me. It’s over.”

She nodded once, quickly, as if she meant only to acknowledge his words, not agree with them. “I’ll believe it when I see the evidence.”

Chapter Two

Rose sighed as Grub, their not-so-fine watchdog, suddenly realized there was company and let out a woof. Johnny-come-lately, as Caleb described him.

At the doggie intrusion Duke’s horse reared and backed away, dragging Duke after him. “Whoa, there. Settle down.” Duke spoke firmly but the animal’s nostrils flared and he had his hands full controlling him.

Rose watched, amused and at the same time annoyed because he chose to ride a horse that was so headstrong.

Billy led his horse forward and caught her attention to him. He laughed as the floppy-eared dog trotted up, tripping over himself on the way. “What’s your doggie’s name?” He reached down to pat Grub and earned himself undying devotion.

She’d been so distracted by Duke’s presence the other day that she’d neglected to inform Billy. “Grub.”

Billy rubbed behind Grub’s ears. “You’re a good dog, ain’t ya? I can tell.” He straightened and sighed. “I wish I had a dog.”

Three cats wandered from the barn, curious as to the disturbance.

Billy cooed and scooped one up in his arms. “I wish I had a cat, too.”

“You’re welcome to play with ours anytime.” She’d suggest he take one of them home with him but she had no idea if the Caldwells would take kindly to the idea. She wouldn’t let a cat go where she couldn’t be sure it would be treated properly.

Billy studied Rose, his brown eyes wide. “You’re a nice person.”

She smiled. “Thank you.” It was nice to be appreciated. “How’d you get to be friends with Duke?” It puzzled her no end that Duke would pick Billy for a sidekick. She’d expect a Caldwell to choose someone big and brawny. Perhaps Billy had done the choosing.

Billy’s chest puffed out. “He saved me from drowning.”

Rose stared. “He did?” She squinted at Duke a few feet away, his horse now reasonably calm.

Billy hung his head. “I jumped in deep water.” He gulped. “On purpose.”

His comments didn’t make sense, unless— “Can you swim?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Then why did you jump in?”

Billy hung his head and kicked at a lump on the ground until it dislodged and skittered away. “I wanted to die,” he whispered. “People always call me bad names.”

“Oh, Billy.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry people say unkind things and I’m glad you’re okay.”

Billy’s eyes were awash with joy. “Me, too, ’cause now I get to meet you, and Duke is my best friend.”

Duke led his horse back to them and Rose studied him out of the corner of her eye. He’d saved Billy’s life, which made him a good man. So could she believe him when he said the feud was over? But no matter what, he was still a Caldwell. If she didn’t remain cautious and alert as to the goings-on of the Caldwell cowboys, someone might get hurt. Worse than last time. She wasn’t about to let down her guard.

Duke stood in front of her, his eyes watchful, as if he expected something from her.

Perhaps he expected her to greet his announcement with unbridled joy. She studied him, his strong features and his blue, blue eyes that seemed to see clear through her.

He smiled and his eyes danced with crystal light. “Have you decided you like what you see?”

Heat rushed up her neck and she jerked away to stare toward the river, hoping he wouldn’t see her cheeks coloring. Never would she admit she thought him handsome and considered the blue in his eyes as vivid as any sunny Montana day.

She shook her head. “I’m trying to decide if you truly believe the feud has ended or if you have some particular reason why you want me to believe it.” For years the Bells had hoped and prayed for this dispute to stop. She couldn’t believe it could end so easily—simply with his say-so. The doubts twisted through her thoughts.

“What do you hope to gain by saying it’s over?” she asked him. Would he make such a claim if he simply wanted to spend time with her?

Why would he?

All he had to do was ask. Would she agree if he did? Her head said no. He was a Caldwell and, as such, not to be trusted on the Bell farm. In fact—her eyes narrowed—it seemed likely he was looking for a weakness, an opportunity to drive them off.

But her heart pushed forward a protest. There was something about Duke that drew her like a moth to a flame. She’d always been attracted by his power, his energy, his happy spirit. Now, seeing Billy’s devotion, she was drawn even closer.

Moths got burned if they got too close to the flames, she reminded herself.

“Maybe I just want us to be friends and neighbors.” His voice carried a harsh note, as if her doubts offended him.

“We’ve been neighbors for eight years,” she pointed out. “But the Caldwells have never wanted to be friends.”

“Not all the Caldwells.” He spoke softly, but there was no mistaking the firmness in his words.

They considered each other, neither blinking. The air between them shifted and shimmered like a summer mirage. It seemed full of possibility.

With a great deal of effort she pulled her gaze away and stared into the distance. For the life of her she couldn’t explain what was happening between them. Nor could she pull a single word from her confused brain.

After a minute Duke turned with a muffled sound. “We better go.” He swung up into his saddle.

“Can I come and visit you again?” Billy asked.

Her voice returned, though somewhat croaky. “You’re welcome anytime, Billy.”

He cheered as if he’d won a goal as he trotted away on his horse.

She continued toward the house, which had been her initial intention before Duke and Billy had ridden into the yard.

He’d said the feud was over.

She hoped it was so, but she meant to wait and see. In the meantime she’d keep her emotions firmly under control.

She stepped inside to the welcome warmth, hung her coat on the nearest hook and turned to face her parents.

Pa was curled up on the cot across the room. She watched the covers rise and fall rhythmically. Her own breathing eased with relief.

“He’s fine,” Ma said. “I wish you’d stop worrying.”

But he hadn’t been fine since he’d caught a cold shortly after Lilly’s wedding. Ma figured his ribs had been hurt when the cows ran over him, which made it hard for him to cough and clear his lungs. Plumb wore him out, it did.

Rose crossed to the cupboard where Ma prepared vegetables to add to the pot of meat stewing on the stove. She draped her arm across Ma’s shoulders. “I’ll never stop worrying about both of you. After all, you’re all I’ve got.”

Ma patted Rose’s arm. “You’ve got Cora and Wyatt and Lilly and Caleb and a host of friends and neighbors.”

Rose gave a laugh, half teasing, half serious. “And yet here you are, stuck with me.”

“Not stuck, my dear. Blessed.” The look Ma gave her was so full of love that Rose had to blink back a sting of tears.

“Speaking of neighbors...” Ma continued. “Wasn’t that young Caldwell I saw you with?”

“It was.”

“His parents will no doubt be pleased to have him back.”

“Not so pleased they didn’t take the first train to Helena.”

Ma nodded. “I suppose they’re anxious to take part in some of the celebrations of Montana achieving statehood. Perhaps Mr. Caldwell will become a politician.”

Rose stared at her mother. “Would that mean he would live in Helena?” Her brain raced. Would he leave Duke in charge? Would that truly mean the feud was over? She could barely contain the hope bubbling inside her.

“Why, I don’t know. I suppose it would depend on the sort of position he fills.” Ma turned her attention back to the simmering pot. “But who knows? It’s pure speculation on my part.”

“It does seem the sort of thing Mr. Caldwell would do.” He could rule an even bigger portion of the world. Maybe thinking of it made him realize how small and petty a feud with the Bells was. If only it could be so.

“Who was the young man with Duke?”

“Billy Taylor. A sweet young man who seems a little simpleminded. He says Douglas saved his life.” She repeated Billy’s story.

“What did they want?”

“Just being neighborly.” She didn’t see any point in repeating Duke’s proclamation that the feud was over. Not until she could be sure.

Pa stirred at that moment and sat up. “Smells good in here.”

Ma hurried to fill the kettle. “I’ll make you some tea.”

Pa rose and stretched.

Rose took note of the fact his arms barely rose above shoulder height and that he clenched his teeth as if holding back a groan.

She turned her back to stare out the window. If the harassment from the Caldwells ended, she would be most grateful. Please, God, make it so. Perhaps Duke would take it a step further. Hadn’t he said he wanted them to be friends?

Her cheeks warmed. She tried to dismiss the idea but it had developed tenacious roots. Seeing him on that big horse, hearing Billy talk of being rescued by Duke, recalling the way he’d teased her when they were kids—

Enough. He was a Caldwell. Even without the feud between them, they were a whole universe apart. A rich rancher and an adopted daughter of dirt farmers—no one would ever imagine them together. But the idea dogged her as she helped serve the meal and later as she went to her room.

Two empty beds stood side by side next to hers. Cora and Lilly were married. She still found it hard to believe. For some reason, she thought they’d always be together.

Her earliest memory was of the three of them standing on the dusty prairie watching a wagon drive away and waving bye-bye to their papa. Then she and Lilly had each clutched one of Cora’s hands, their big sister who had promised to take care of them.

That’s where Ma Bell had found them. Lilly had gone eagerly into Ma’s outstretched arms but Cora had hung back. Rose had stuck firmly to Cora’s side.

“My papa is coming back. He said to wait,” Cora had insisted.

“Your little sisters are tired and hungry,” Ma had said. “Come with me and let me feed all of you. We’ll be in town. Your papa will know to look for you there when he comes back.”

Thinking of that day, Rose smiled as she prepared for bed.

“Ise not tired ’n’ hungry,” she’d stoutly insisted, standing bravely at Cora’s side and knowing that if Ma Bell had mentioned milk or bread or cheese, she would have faltered. Instead, Cora had nodded and allowed Ma Bell to lead them home.

Fifteen years later and their birth father had never returned. Rose could remember nothing more about her father and nothing at all about her birth mother. Cora had told her that their mother had died and Cora had promised to take care of the twins.

Rose wished her sisters were still there. They could have discussed what Duke had said. Though she knew they were likely to trust his words. Her sisters had certainly mellowed since meeting their husbands. Was that what love did to a person?

Rose hadn’t changed. Except to finally accept that they would never learn anything more about their birth parents. She was happy enough, but inside, a hole remained. A lack. She knew Ma and Pa loved her and she loved them and was happy they had adopted the three little girls abandoned on the prairie, yet somehow, when Rose looked within, a hungry emptiness clawed at her insides. It wasn’t a large hole but it went deep and persistently made itself known. She had no family history. No knowledge of her real background. No assurance there wasn’t something mighty strange about a man who’d abandoned three little girls in the middle of nowhere. The few times she’d let a boy escort her someplace, they had acted as though her lack of background allowed them to take liberties with her. She’d soon set them straight on that score.

She sat on the edge of her bed and, as was her practice, read a chapter in her Bible and then said her prayers, adding a special request. God, show me what to believe about Duke. I don’t want to trust his every word out of loneliness and weakness. Yet, if the feud is over, well, I’ll thank You wholeheartedly.

* * *

She wakened with a jolt the next morning, her heart pounding as she bolted from her bed. Something had startled her from her sleep. Hopping on the cold floor, she rushed to look out the kitchen window into the gray, predawn light. Cows, pigs, sheep and chickens milled across the yard. The cows mooed. The sheep baaed and ran around in crazy circles, making the chickens fly up with startled squawks. The pigs rooted through the spot where she occasionally emptied the slop bucket.

She hurried back to her room and donned warm clothes, then grabbed her coat and headed outside to again corral all the animals.

Only once did she stop to stare in the direction of the Caldwell buildings. So much for ending the feud.

Duke had not told her the truth. What else was false? His claim that he wanted to be her friend?

A cold wind whistled down the hill, stinging her eyes, causing them to water. There was no other reason for the tears she dashed from her eyes.

* * *

Duke’s emotions tangled as if they’d been caught in the wind. Disappointment, anger and helpless hope formed a rope that twisted tighter with every breath.

He’d ridden over to the Bells’ so certain Rose would be overjoyed at his announcement. Instead she had questioned his sincerity. She suspected his motives.

Come to think of it, she’d always been on the suspicious side. If he took her an apple, she’d check it for worms. If he found a pretty rock and gave it to her, she’d toss it aside wondering aloud if he meant to insult her.

Mrs. Humphrey had noted his distraction when he’d returned yesterday. “Who you mooning over, Duke?”

Duke had forced a boisterous laugh to his lips. “I’d never moon over anyone. You ought to know that.”

He tried to hold on to that sense of injustice this morning.

Over breakfast Mrs. Humphrey considered him in her motherly way.

He met her doubtful look without blinking as he had last night. “Good breakfast,” he said after a moment of measuring each other.

“Duke, I hope you can manage on your own a few days. I want to visit my son.”

“By all means.” It would be a relief not to have to endure her probing looks. “We can certainly manage.” He included Billy, who sat across from him at the table.

“You can always go to the cookhouse and eat with the men if you get hungry.”

Billy made a sound of distress. It hadn’t taken him long to discover how harsh the cowboys’ teasing could be.

“We’ll be fine.”

Not long after breakfast, when she was ready, he arranged for one of the men to take her to town in the wagon.

He wandered through the house; stood in his father’s office. He was in charge now, but it didn’t seem all that exciting. He returned to the kitchen where Billy sat with his papers and pencil.

“Billy, let’s go visit Rose.”

Billy cheered. “She said I could visit the cats anytime I wanted.” He gave Duke a sideways look. “I like cats.”

Was Billy asking to have a pet? Duke had no objection but would wait to check with Rose before he said anything.

They saddled up and were soon on their way.

It had grown colder in the past couple of days. Winter could not be avoided. Father was away and Duke wondered if there was something he needed to be taking care of. Though Father had assured him Ebner knew what to do.

Duke wanted to help. He wanted to work. But when he’d asked Ebner what to do, the foreman had waved him away.

“I got it under control. I always got it under control. I don’t need some young buck messin’ things up.”

Duke had stared after the man. Young buck? Is that how Ebner saw him? Duke shouldn’t be surprised. Ebner had never been all that friendly to him.

Forget Ebner. Sooner or later he’d learn to respect Duke.

His thoughts flitted ahead to this visit with Rose.

Perhaps if he’d been paying more attention he would have been prepared when a rabbit jumped out in front of King. The horse snorted, reared and got the bit. Knowing he was in control, King bucked.

Duke hung on through the first three bucks but he was off balance, unprepared for King’s behavior, and went flying, his arms windmilling. The ground rushed toward him and clouted him on the forehead. He closed his eyes and gasped for breath. Darkness pushed at the edges of his brain but he fought it off and sat up. The world tilted and spun. Something dripped into his eyes and he rubbed it away.

His hand came away bloody.

The black pushed closer.

“Billy.” He looked around for the man... Where was he? He lifted his head and squinted to focus his vision.

Billy galloped away, leaving Duke alone.

The blackness overwhelmed him.

Chapter Three

“Rose! Rose!”

She turned at the sound of her name. Her heart leaped to her throat as Billy raced toward her on horseback, bouncing as though he’d come unseated any moment.

As Billy reached her side, she grabbed the horse and steadied it. Her heart beat a frantic tattoo against her breastbone at the sight of his tearstained face. “Billy, are you hurt?”

“No. No.” He blubbered out the words.

“What’s wrong?”

Billy’s mouth worked and a few garbled words came out, but nothing she could make sense of.

The muscles in her neck started to spasm. She glanced around, searched the horizon for any sign of danger. It took only a few seconds to assure herself there were no cows racing toward them, no cowboys watching from the crest of the hill. At least with the skiff of snow the risk of fire had been dealt with. She shuddered. Fire was her biggest fear.

She helped Billy to the ground and patted his back, trying to calm him. One of the half-grown cats rubbed around her ankles, giving her an idea. She scooped it up and put it in Billy’s arms. The cat purred and pressed its face to his chest.

As she hoped, the animal calmed Billy and he sucked in a deep breath.

“Billy, what’s wrong?”

A shudder shook the man from head to toe. “Duke.” He choked and couldn’t continue.

“What’s he doing?” Did he have some kind of mischief planned and Billy meant to warn them?

“Hurt,” Billy said, his mouth working as he tried to explain. “Duke hurt.” He patted his head.

“He hurt his head?”

He nodded. “Fell.”

She stroked the cat, pulling Billy’s attention back to the animal.

Billy shuddered again but petting the cat helped him relax. “Duke fell off his horse. Hit his head.” A sob caught in the man’s throat. “Blood. Lots and lots of blood.”

Rose quickly analyzed the information. If Billy had come to the Bells, did that mean Duke was near? She again scanned the horizon, this time looking for either a wandering animal, though King had likely headed for the barn, or an unusual lump on the ground. She saw neither.

“Billy, where is Duke now?”

He turned and pointed.

“Do you remember where?”

He nodded, then his face wrinkled. “Maybe.”

“Wait here while I saddle Hope.” Never before had she clung to her horse’s name but now she did.

Ma stepped from the house wearing a warm jacket. “Is something the matter?”

Rose quickly explained. “Billy’s upset. Can you stay with him?” She introduced the pair and Ma spoke softly and soothingly to Billy.

He wouldn’t go anywhere as long as Ma was there to watch him.

She returned in a few minutes with her horse saddled.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

Her ma nodded. “Billy was telling me how much he likes cats. I asked if he’d like to own this one even if he has to leave it here.”

“I’ll call her Patches ’cause she’s all patchy with different colors.” He rubbed his cheek against her fur.

Patches purred and licked his face.

Grub sat nearby watching.

Billy put the cat down and patted the dog. “I like you, too.”

Relieved that Billy had calmed down, Rose led both horses to his side. “Why don’t you show me where Duke is?”

“Wait a moment.” Ma hurried back to the house and returned shortly with a small sack. “I’ve put in some bandaging and other things you might need.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

Rose indicated Billy should mount up and then swung into her own saddle.

Ma tsked and shook her head but didn’t say anything. She and Pa had long ago given up trying to make her ride sidesaddle.

For a few hundred yards Rose easily followed Billy’s back trail before it disappeared in a mess of cow tracks and trampled snow.

“What direction now?” she asked him.

He looked around, twisting in his saddle to glance back in the direction of the farm. “We just came that way, didn’t we?”

“Yes, Billy. That would take us back to my home.”

He nodded. “I rode there as fast as I could.” His whole body quaked. “I was so scared.”

“Yes, when you saw that Duke was hurt.” She gave him a moment to sort through his thoughts. “Where did Duke fall?”

“On the ground.”

She hid her grin. It was a stupid question. “Was he over there?” She pointed to the north.

“Maybe.”

Good. “Then let’s go find him.”

“Or maybe he was over there.” He pointed south.

“I see.” In other words, Billy didn’t know. Maybe he’d remember something else. “Where were you planning to go?”

“For a ride.”

“Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? Were you going to see someone?”

Billy grinned. “You.”

“Me?” Why would Duke want to visit her? She hadn’t been exactly welcoming yesterday and didn’t much care to see him again after she’d spent several hours sorting animals and getting them into their proper pens this morning. “Why?”

Billy ducked his head. “’Cause he likes you.”

She sputtered. Then forced herself to relax. This was Billy talking. He saw what he wanted to see. She sat back and considered her surroundings. The most direct route between the two places would be over that hill. She nudged her horse in that direction.

From the crest of the hill she could see no sign of Duke or his horse. “Did you come this way?”

“Maybe.” A cry choked off the word.

He didn’t know and couldn’t tell her. She’d have to figure it out herself. She took a deep breath. Think. This was Duke. Would he take the most direct route? No. Not anywhere near. He’d take the most dangerous, the most challenging. That meant he’d ride along the escarpment and cross the coulee that lay to the west.

She reined her horse in that direction. She had to confess it was one of her favorite places. From the top, she often observed deer feeding in the coulee and hawks circling overhead. There’d been a nest she’d looked down on in the early part of summer to watch the baby hawks.

She reached the coulee. Some vicious rocks lay scattered across the snow-crusted slopes. If Duke had hit his head of one of those—

She shuddered. She’d imagined finding him injured but perhaps his injuries were beyond help.

Her breath whooshed out when she didn’t see a body anywhere. Perhaps she’d been mistaken in thinking he’d come this way. “Do you remember this place?” she asked Billy.

He nodded. “Maybe.” Then his eyes focused. “Duke wasn’t with me.”

Rose tried to understand what Billy meant. Had they been on this route but Duke had fallen before they reached this place? Only one way to find out.

She made her way across the coulee and climbed the upward path. From there she could see several miles in every direction, clear to the trees filling the hollow toward the Caldwell buildings. And there was no sign of Duke.

Billy jumped to the ground. “He was here.” He pointed. “He’s gone.” He turned his face upward, his eyes wide. “He’s gone to Heaven.”

“No, Billy. I don’t think so.” At least not from this spot because there was no body.

She dismounted and bent to examine the ground where Billy stood. There was a rock and a large dark spot. Blood. Lots of blood. She shivered. Duke might be a Caldwell and a royal pain, but she had no wish to see him dead. She looked around.

Her heart clinging to the back of her throat, she went to the edge of the cliff and looked down. But there was no sign of Duke or his horse. Had the horse remained with him and Duke was now riding homeward?

She swung into the saddle, indicated Billy should do the same, and rode toward the Caldwell Ranch. She veered to the right of the trees.

A movement caught her eye. Something was in there among the stark branches and dark shadows. It could be a deer or even a bear. Or perhaps Duke’s horse. Should she check? She didn’t want to waste time but neither did she want to neglect caution. She reined in and peered into the shadows.

There it was again; something lurching from shadow to shadow. She blinked hard. “Duke?”

Billy hit the ground running. “Duke, you ain’t dead.”

The figure folded to the ground.

Rose dismounted and hurried after Billy.

By the time she caught up with him, he’d squatted beside Duke who was struggling to sit up.

Blood covered his face and soaked the front of his coat. He rubbed his eyes to clear the dripping blood and squinted up at them. But it was plain that he couldn’t bring them into focus.

She squatted in front of him and took his chin to bring his gaze to her. “Duke, do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

Which was more than she could say about his answer. He sounded as if his tongue had gone to sleep.

“Don’t die, Duke. Please don’t die.” Billy sobbed the words.

Duke pulled his legs up and tried to get to his feet. “Got to go home.”

Yes, she needed to get him back to the ranch where he could get warm and have his wound tended.

“Billy,” she said calmly, “can you bring the horses?”

He got started on the assignment without answering.

She turned back to Duke and gently pressed him back to the ground. “Relax. We’ll get you home.”

He nodded, groaned at the movement and grabbed his head. “Hurts.”

“I expect so.” She touched his forehead, trying to see the cut through the blood. It looked deep, deep enough to mar his handsome features. Could he handle knowing that?

Billy led the horses forward.

Rose considered her options. She’d like to put Duke on Billy’s horse and let Billy hold him on the ride to the Caldwell Ranch, but Billy was scrubbing tears from his face. She couldn’t count on him to know what to do.

She pulled Hope close. “Help me get Duke on my horse,” she instructed Billy.

Between them they pulled Duke upright. He wobbled so badly she staggered under his weight. “Grab the saddle horn,” she told him as she wrapped his fingers around it. “Hang on.” She and Billy boosted him into the saddle and she climbed up behind him. She sat back, reluctant to hold him as intimately as this ride would require.

He listed to the south. Billy grabbed him. “What if he falls again? I don’t want him to go to Heaven today.”

“He won’t.” She wrapped her arms around Duke and pressed tight to his back. “He won’t.” Though whether she meant fall or die, she wasn’t prepared to say.

He groaned and tried to reach his head but his arms were firmly pinned at his sides.

“You’re okay now,” she soothed. “I’ll soon have you home.”

He grunted and leaned into her hold as she urged Hope to move forward.

Billy followed on horseback. “Is this my fault?”

“Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“’Cause I’m stupid and do stupid things.”

“Oh, Billy, don’t you believe that. Besides, we all do stupid things at times.” Anger twisted inside her, both at the knowledge that this gentle man had been made to feel that way and because Duke had chosen to ride a horse that almost killed him. “Such as how smart is it to ride a horse you can’t control?”

Duke mumbled something but she couldn’t make sense of his ramblings.

“You’ll soon be home safe and sound,” she murmured.

He mumbled again and seemed to snuggle into her arms. It sounded as though he’d said, “Nice.”

Heat stole up her cheeks. Surely he didn’t mean having her arms around him. It was only to keep him from falling on his head again. She marginally relaxed her hold but he swayed and she fought his weight to keep him in the saddle. She had no choice but to hold tight.

The ranch buildings came into sight. She glanced around. Now would be a good time for that obnoxious foreman, Ebner, to show up and offer a hand. Or anybody.

But apart from the neigh of King who stood outside the corral wanting in, there wasn’t another living, moving being to be seen.

She rode up to the front of the house and stopped at the steps. This was only the second time she’d been this close to the house. Once, she and her sisters had come with Ma in the wagon. She and Lilly had been eleven or twelve, which would have made Cora fourteen at the time. Ma had heard Mrs. Caldwell was ill and had done the neighborly thing and brought over a hot dish.

Cora had protested. “Ma, do you think they’ll welcome us? Most likely they’ll chase us off with a shotgun.”

Lilly had clutched her hands in her lap. “They might be really mad.”

Rose smiled as she recalled how fiercely she’d reacted. “They don’t deserve Ma’s help.”

Ma had shushed the girls. “We will do what is right and good, and not let the actions of others determine our own.”

A woman who wasn’t Mrs. Caldwell had come in answer to Ma’s knock and, with a friendly smile, had thanked Ma for the dish. Rose learned later the woman was Mrs. Humphrey who worked for the Caldwells.

They’d been informed Mrs. Caldwell was indisposed, and no invitation had been offered for them to step inside.

Ma had smiled as if there had been no insult and said to tell Mrs. Caldwell they’d pray for her recovery.

Rose had been so impressed with her ma’s attitude that she promised herself to be more like her. All too often her anger dictated how she acted, but today would be one time she actually succeeded in doing what was right despite her feelings.

“Billy, help me get Duke off the horse.” She slipped to the ground as she and Billy steadied Duke, then he slid into Billy’s arms. Billy would have crashed under his weight if Rose hadn’t taken a portion of it.

Together they guided Duke up the steps. Billy pushed the door open.

Rose released Duke and stepped back. She’d never been in this house, knew she wouldn’t be welcome. Any more than she had welcomed Duke into the Bell house.

Billy staggered under Duke’s weight and glanced back at Rose. His expression drooped. “Rose, don’t go. Don’t leave us.”

Duke’s head came up. “Rose...” She understood that word well enough. “Help.” And that one, too.

She could not resist a call for help from anyone.

She stared at the door and swallowed hard. If anything symbolized the difference between the Bells and the Caldwells, this door did—big, heavy-looking paneled wood with a fine brass handle. The door to the Bells’ house was a plain slab of wood with a black knob.

Billy wobbled. She pushed aside any insecurities and grabbed Duke’s arm, lifted it over her shoulder and edged through the door.

They were in a kitchen about the size of the entire living quarters at home. A big wooden table, several inches thick, stood in the middle of the room. Half a dozen chairs were pushed up to it.

At one end of the room a fireplace lay with wood ready to light. A huge black stove occupied the opposite side of the room. Cupboards and shelves filled the walls.

“He needs to lie down,” she told Billy.

“Through there.” He pointed to one of the three doorways and they shuffled into a sitting room. Her eyes scanned a burgundy sofa and several armchairs, each with a table and lamp beside it. But she didn’t see anywhere she could rest a person dripping in blood.

“Is there a blanket or towel to cover the sofa with?”

Billy hurried to fetch something, leaving Rose to hold Duke up on her own. He turned unfocused eyes on her and grinned crookedly. “Hi.”

She laughed. “You wouldn’t sound so welcoming if your brain wasn’t scrambled.”

“Yes, I would.” He nodded, causing him to almost lose his balance.

“Whoa! Take it easy.” They sidestepped a bit before she got him steadied.

Billy trotted into the room with a heavy gray blanket.

“Spread it on the sofa.”

He did so, meticulously smoothing it into place.

She edged Duke to the sofa and eased him down. She stood over him, studying him. “About the best I can say for you at the moment is you’re alive.”

He wiped his eyes. “That’s not such a good feeling right now.”

“You’re not gonna let him die, are ya?” Billy wrung his hands.

Duke cracked open one eye. “Are ya?”

Why did his question bring such a rush of emotions? Regret, determination and wild wishes all tangled together.

“Of course not. I need to get some water.” She rushed from the room, pressing her cold hands to her hot cheeks. What was the matter with her? One glance around the room answered her question. She didn’t belong here and, should Duke be in his right mind, he’d be the first to tell her so.

And yet...

Didn’t it feel good to have him need her?

She shoved the thought away and concentrated on the task before her, dipping hot water from the reservoir on the stove, filling a bowl, opening drawers until she found towels. She searched through them, looking for a ragged one that would serve to clean up Duke’s blood. All she found was one towel that had a slight stain. She took it and a couple of others with her back to the other room.

She pulled a stool up to the sofa and carefully began to wash away the blood on Duke’s face. The wound continued to bleed. With barely a hesitation that she was about to ruin a beautiful tea towel, she pressed it to the wound and held it in place while she gently washed his face.

Once the blood was cleaned from his eyelids, he opened his eyes. Aware that his gaze locked on to her face, Rose avoided meeting his eyes. She dragged the towel over the blond whiskers along his jaw to his hairline. She couldn’t help noting how golden his hair was. Slowly she cleaned toward the wound and lifted the cloth. The bleeding had slowed enough she could see that it was deep, but thanks to the amount of blood he’d shed, it was clean.

“Billy, will you please get that sack of things Ma sent with me?”

He dashed away to do so.

Duke continued to stare at Rose and she tried to ignore him, keeping her eyes glued to the wound as if by doing so she might meld the edges together.

His hand wrapped around her wrist.

She jerked her attention to the hand, then slowly brought her gaze to his. Not for a moment did she doubt he was clear in his mind. So much so he threatened to mentally overwhelm her. She couldn’t pull away from his gaze, couldn’t talk reason to herself.

He smiled somewhat crookedly as if his mouth hurt. “I’m glad you’re here.” His hand fell to his chest and his eyes closed.

“Duke, wake up. Don’t you dare fall asleep.” Ma had taught her well. If he slept, he could easily slip into unconsciousness and from there to—

He was not going to Heaven today. Not if she had anything to say about it.

* * *

Cool fingers brushed his cheek. The touch pushed back the thick fog that threatened to enclose him.

“Duke, wake up. Stay awake.”

The voice seemed concerned. He tried to think about how to reassure the person. Who was it? Rose Bell. He smiled and fought his way to the surface.

“What are you doing here?” His tongue staggered under the weight of the words.

“Open your eyes.”

“Okay.” Easier said than done.

“Duke, open them.”

She sounded as though she cared. He must be dreaming. “I am.”

She chuckled. The sound tumbled through his brain. More evidence this was only a dream. “And yet they are still closed. Come on, I need to see your eyes.”

“They’re blue.” His voice sounded thick even to his own befuddled brain.

She chuckled again.

He had to see if this was a dream or if she was actually there, so he raised his eyebrows in an attempt to force his eyelids up. The simple movement hurt. “Ow.” His eyes opened and he stared into a beautiful, concerned face. “Hi.”

Her smile fled. Or had he only dreamed it in the first place?

“You’ve got a nasty gash on your forehead.”

“I can feel it clear to my toes.” He watched emotions flit across her face as she leaned closer to look at his head. First, concern and then worry. Worry? Rose Bell worried about Duke Caldwell? It didn’t seem possible. Her gaze returned to his and he caught a flash of something he almost believed to be tenderness. For him? Hardly. The Bells were known for helping the sick and injured. That’s all it was.

A tiny grin tugged at her lips and amusement filled her eyes. “Your handsome face will be forever marred.”

“I can live with that.”

“You’re fortunate to be alive.” Her eyes snapped with anger. “Why are you riding a wild horse around the country? Don’t you know you might have been killed?”

He was caught in the green flare from her eyes. “Seems you should be happy about that. You haven’t exactly thrown out the welcome mat to me.”

Her expression slowly hardened, grew impassive.

He missed being able to read her emotions.

She sat back and pulled her hands to her lap. “That doesn’t mean I want to see you dead.”

“Good to know.” His eyelids drifted closed.

“Duke, don’t you dare go to sleep.”

He answered without opening his eyes. “Doesn’t seem like I’m going to get a chance with you constantly calling my name.”

He heard footsteps and then a worried voice. “Here it is. Is he alive?”

Duke opened his eyes to see Billy hand Rose a sack. “I’m okay, Billy. Don’t you worry. It will take more than a skittish horse to kill me.”

Rose pursed her lips. Her disapproval of his horse was evident.

Billy patted Duke’s arm. “I prayed and prayed and prayed ever since you got hurt. God helped me.”

Duke’s mind cleared enough for him to remember trying to find his way home. “How did I get here? And what are you doing here?” he asked Rose.

“Billy came to the farm to get my help.”

It took a moment to digest this information. “You came?”

She pulled back. “I’d never refuse to help anyone in trouble.”

He held her gaze. “Anyone? Even a Caldwell?”

She nodded. “Even you.”

“Ouch. You make it sound as though that’s the worst possible thing ever.”

Her expression softened again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” She opened the sack and pulled out bandages and a tiny jar. “I’m going to fix your cut as best I can.” She considered it. “I suppose I could sew it up.”

He laughed but cut it off as pain ripped through his head. “Never mind sewing anything unless it involves fabric.”

The gust of air she released told him she was happy not to have that option. And yet she’d offered. What a strange woman she was.

She pulled the stool closer and gently stroked his hair back from his forehead.

He closed his eyes as a thousand sensations of pleasure and delight flooded his skin and tingled in his fingertips. This feeling was new. And not unwelcome. In fact—

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. But I need to pull the edges as close together as I can.”

“Don’t hurt him.” Billy sounded about ready to cry.

“It’s okay,” Duke assured him. “It hardly hurts at all. I just wasn’t prepared.”

“I should have warned you. Now I’m going to put a dressing in place to hold it.” She bent over him, her scent bringing to mind summer pastures filled with wildflowers. Her touch was gentle yet firm. Not unlike the lady herself.

“There. That will keep it for now.”

“Thanks.” His voice came from a long distance.

“Duke, you must stay awake.”

Why must I? “You’ll stay?” He pulled the words from the fog.

“Until I’m sure you’re okay.”

So long as she was there, he’d be safe. And he let the fog drift closer.

A faint breeze, a sense of aloneness, forced his eyes open. “Rose?”

She stood by the sofa. “Billy, stay with him while I clean up these things. And keep him awake.”

Billy perched on the stool that Rose had vacated and patted Duke’s hand. “You’ll be okay now. Rose fixed you up good. I knowed she would. That’s why I got her to help.”

Duke grunted a time or two to indicate he listened as Billy rattled on and on, but he barely heard a word the man said. His thoughts had followed Rose to the kitchen. Would she leave without saying goodbye? The thought of being alone except for the frightened Billy sent his pulse into a fury.

From the depths of his heart he prayed. God, please convince her to stay.

Chapter Four

Rose stood in the middle of the kitchen, her hand pressed to her throat. What was there about this place, this situation, about Duke, that unraveled her thoughts until she could hardly remember who she was?

She went to the stove and lifted the kettle. It was full of water. A cup of tea would set her to rights. She pushed wood into the stove and stirred up the fire. While she waited for the kettle to boil, she searched for tea. Every cupboard she opened increased the tightness in her head. Would she be accused of snooping? But Mrs. Caldwell was away, so she wouldn’t know. Still, Rose’s sense of intrusion increased.

As did her growing awareness of the vast difference between her as a Bell and Duke, a Caldwell.

She found a canister of tea and a fine china teapot and closed the cupboards firmly and with a sigh of relief.

She warmed the pot, then measured out a handful of tea leaves and added the boiling water.

A good look around the kitchen gave her cause to think that Duke didn’t cook for himself. The place was far too tidy. Did Billy cook for them? Did a housekeeper come in and prepare meals? Or did they go over to the long building down near the barn she took for the cookhouse?

Duke would never make it that far in his present condition.

She poured tea into three matching teacups, put them on a serving tray and carried it to the other room.

Billy jumped up as she entered the room. “I’d of helped if you called.”

“Thank you, Billy, but I managed fine.” She set the tray on the nearest table. “I thought tea might hit the spot.”

Duke pushed himself upright, grimacing.

She hurried to his side. “Lie back.”

“Can’t drink tea lying down.”

She could practically hear his teeth creak from the way he clenched them.

He swung his feet to the floor and gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m fine. Really.”

She stood in front of him, her hands planted on her hips. “About as fine as snow in July.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say being a Caldwell didn’t make him impervious, but the pain and determination in his face made her hold back her words. Instead she almost commended him for the strength he showed.

He lifted his face to her. “I believe I’ll have that tea now. Thank you.” His crooked smile made her grin.

“Yes, sir.” She carried a cup to him and hovered close as he took it. The tea sloshed so wildly, she caught his hands to steady them.

His eyes bored into hers.

A part of herself broke free and seemed to float above her as she looked into his eyes and held his hands. If only...

“You must find it hard to do this.”

“Do what?” His voice settled her wandering mind.

“Coddle me.”

“Am I doing that?” Her words came out soft and sweet, from a place within her she normally saved for family. “Seems to me all I’m doing is helping a neighbor in need.”

“It’s nice we can now be friendly neighbors.”

This was not the time to point out that friendly neighbors did not open gates and let animals out.

Duke lowered his gaze, freeing her from its silent hold. He sipped the tea. “You’re right. This is just what I needed. I’m feeling better already.” He indicated he wanted to put the cup and saucer on the stool at his knees. “I haven’t thanked you for rescuing me. Thank you.” He smiled.

She noticed his eyes looked clearer. He was feeling better. The tea had been a good idea.

“You’re welcome.” She could barely pull away from his gaze. Why did he have this power over her? It had to be the brightness of those blue eyes...

What was she doing? She had to stop this. Resolved to not be trapped by his look, she pulled her gaze away and managed to gather her wits about her. “Do you have a housekeeper coming in to make your meals?”

When he didn’t answer right away, she clarified, “I ask because if you’ve been taking your meals at the cookhouse, I don’t think you’ll make it tonight.”

Billy answered. “The cowboys eat at the cookhouse.” His voice lowered. “They stare at me.”

That didn’t exactly answer her question. What were they doing for meals?

Billy brightened. “I like it best when we go away and have a campfire. Duke knows how to cook lots of things over the fire.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Is that a fact?”

“Yup. He showed me how to do biscuits on a stick.”

Duke leaned his head back on the sofa. “Don’t look so surprised, Rose. I’m a lot handier than you think.”

She forced her expression into blandness when she looked at him. “I doubt you know what I think.”

“I’m guessing you think I’m a useless, spoiled rich kid.”

“Hmm.” Let him believe that. Far better than knowing the truth that she wished she could go camping with them to see him make biscuits on a stick.

His mouth tightened. He closed his eyes as if to hide his hurt from her.

She’d rubbed some ointment on the edges of the wound that should relieve some of the pain, but remnants always crept through. “You should take it easy.”

“What do you call what I’m doing?” His words were lazy but she didn’t miss the edge of pain.

She made up her mind. “There’s no way you are going to make it to the cookhouse. Nor are you in any shape to be cooking over a campfire. If you’ll allow me, I’ll prepare a meal for you.”

That brought his eyes open in a hurry.

“If you don’t object to me doing so,” she added.

“Object? I’d be forever grateful.”

Billy grinned from ear to ear. “Can we eat in the kitchen?” He slanted a look at Duke. “I kind of don’t like the dining room.”

Duke chuckled softly. “I’d enjoy eating in the kitchen, myself.”

“Then it’s decided.” Rose gathered up the teacups and tray and marched back to the kitchen to stare around. She didn’t know where anything was, or what sort of staples a place like this would have, but from peeking in the few cupboards she’d opened looking for the tea, she guessed anything she needed would be available. She’d make something simple that would be easy for Duke to eat.

Ma’s potato soup could never go wrong and Billy’s story of biscuits on a stick helped her decide on biscuits to accompany it.

She found a bin full of potatoes and was removing some when Duke, leaning on Billy’s shoulder, came into the room. She straightened and favored the man with a scolding look. “What happened to the part about taking it easy?”

He pulled out a chair from the table and sat. “There. I’m taking it easy.”

Billy sat beside him. “Duke wanted to watch you cooking. He said there’s nothing prettier than a gal in the kitchen.”

Duke rolled his eyes. “Billy, I didn’t mean for you to repeat that.”

Billy lowered his head. “I’m sorry. I’m stupid.”

Duke gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Billy, you aren’t stupid. And don’t you forget it.”

Billy sucked in a long breath. “If you say so.”

Rose turned away to hide her expression. Her admiration for the way Duke dealt with Billy left her struggling for equilibrium.

“Billy Boy,” he said, “I fear the horses are still tied at the rail. Would you take care of them, please?”

Billy set out on the task immediately.

“Billy seems an odd friend for you.” Rose kept her attention on peeling the potatoes as she spoke, but she couldn’t resist darting a glance at Duke to see his reaction.

He wiped a hand across his face. If she wasn’t mistaken, he tried to remove regret. Regret from Duke Caldwell? It didn’t seem possible.

“Billy said you saved his life. Sounds as though he tried to drown himself.”

“It was my fault.” The agony in Duke’s voice brought her attention to him.

Her heart twisted at the look on his face. “What did you do?” she whispered.

“I stood by while so-called friends teased him.”

The horror ground through her insides. “Let me guess. They called him stupid?”

“Among other things.” Each word seemed to scrape from inside him. “They were very cruel. To be fair, I was on my way to some silly play and I didn’t think I had time to stop and tell them to leave him be. I should have.”

“Oh, poor Billy.”

Duke wiped his hand across his face once more.

“He tried to drown himself because of what they said?”

Duke’s gaze clung to her, full of despair and sorrow.

She pressed her hand to her chest in a vain attempt to quench the same emotions rising within her. “You rescued him?”

Duke nodded.

“He saved me.” Neither of them had heard Billy reenter the room. He rushed to Duke’s side and hugged him. The movement caused Duke to flinch with pain but he patted Billy’s back and smiled.

Billy continued, “He almost drowned, too. You’re a good man, Duke.”

A silent communication passed between Rose and Duke. She understood what he hadn’t said. He saw only his failure in not intervening when he could have.

She wanted to grip his shoulder and say his good deed cancelled out his failure. Instead she turned her attention back to the meal preparations.

Who was he? Truly? A manipulator who said the feud was over when it obviously wasn’t. A hero who almost drowned rescuing someone weaker than him in every way.

He was a curious mixture of strength and vulnerability. Could he be both at the same time? What was she to believe?

Was he a feuding neighbor, the arrogant son of the rich rancher?

Or a kind, noble man?

She tried to dismiss the questions. What difference did it make to her? She had only come because he’d been injured and Ma had taught all the girls to never refuse to help a sick or injured person.

Apart from that, she was Rose Bell and he, Duke Caldwell. That was all she needed to know about him.

But her fierce admonitions did not stop the churning of her thoughts.

* * *

Duke had confessed his shame. She’d understandably been shocked and had turned away to prepare a pot of soup. Why had he let her see his weak side?

His only explanation was that his head hurt, making it hard to think straight.

Rose filled the soup pot and mixed up a batch of biscuits and popped them in the oven.

Putting aside his regret over confessing his sin of omission regarding Billy, he sat back and enjoyed watching Rose flit around the kitchen. His mother didn’t cook. Back east all the meals had come from the kitchen, prepared by a cook and served in a dining room. When Mrs. Humphrey prepared meals in this room he’d only been allowed to watch. Hence, cooking over the open fire had been learned by trial and error. Being able to share the kitchen with a young woman was a new experience. One, he decided, he quite enjoyed.

Rose brushed strands of hair out of her face. She wore her red hair in a braid down her back and it danced in sunshiny waves as she moved.

“Billy’s right,” he murmured half to himself. “Your hair is pretty.”

She ground to a halt and slowly came around to face him, her eyes narrow and challenging. She held the big stirring spoon like a weapon.

He held up both hands in a gesture of retreat. “Hey, it’s a compliment.”

Slowly the spoon was lowered. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

Billy went to her side. “How come you don’t like people saying your hair is nice?”

“Mostly because they don’t mean it.” She kept her back to both of them.

“I mean it.” Billy sounded hurt.

“I know you do.”

Duke waited, hoping and wishing she might turn to him and say the same thing. When she didn’t he couldn’t leave it alone. “I mean it, too.”

She stiffened. Then she slowly set the spoon on the cupboard and turned to face him. “‘Redhead redhead, fire in the woodshed.’ Remember that? I do.”

Her accusation ripped through him like a tornado, twisting, turning, filling him with tangled regret. He pushed to his feet, ignoring the dizziness, and crossed to her. He longed to touch her, to smooth her hair, to assure her in so many ways. “I was a foolish kid who didn’t know how to express his admiration.”

“Admiration?” Her eyes dripped disbelief. “For what?”

“Your hair is beautiful. You are beautiful.”

Her eyebrows reached for her hairline.

In for a penny, in for a dollar. He might as well say it all. “You are about the kindest, wisest woman I’ve met.”

She snorted. “Haven’t met many women, have you?”

He grinned. “Met some.” Indeed he’d met a lot of young women while back east. “None of whom would rescue an injured man. None who would likewise prepare him a meal. Rose Bell, you are something special.” He had the satisfaction of seeing pleasure flicker through her eyes before he returned to his seat.

Let her muse on that a while, he thought.

Billy chuckled. “Duke sure does like you, Rose.”

Rose jerked around and stirred the soup rather vigorously. “He hit his head too hard.”

A few minutes later she put two bowls on the table.

He caught her wrist. “Which one of us isn’t eating?”

She didn’t pull away but her face revealed a wealth of confusion. “I made the meal for you and Billy. I’ll ride on home.” She glanced out the window. “It will soon be dark.”

He looked out the window, too. “You have time to eat with us before you go. Billy and I will do the dishes so we don’t keep you.”

She glanced around as if seeking escape or excuse.

“Please eat with us, Rose.”

Not until she nodded did he release her wrist.

She scurried to the cupboard for another bowl. Put it on the table then ladled out soup and set out a plate of golden biscuits.

She hesitated only a moment before she sat in the chair opposite Duke. Only then did she lift her eyes to him.

He smiled at the expectant guardedness of her expression. “I’ll ask the blessing.”

She bowed her head and he did likewise. His heart was so filled with gratitude that his throat tightened and his words came out husky.

“God, bless this food. Bless those who share it at this meal. Thank You for Your many blessings. Amen.” Silently he added thanks for Billy, for Rose and for being safe at home with only a minor cut on his head. And for Rose being willing to share his table.

“Amen,” Rose and Billy echoed.

They were quiet a few moments as the biscuits were passed and the soup tested.

“That is so good.” Duke indicated the soup. “You’ll have to give me the recipe.”

Rose stared. “Why would I do that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe Billy and I will make it ourselves.”

Rose leaned closer. “I could tell you but then Ma would come after you with a fry pan and demand you forget you ever heard her secret ingredient.” She nodded with a hint of warning in her eyes. “So for your sake, I better not.”

He stared at her. Beside him, Billy shifted in his chair.

“Duke, you might get hurt.”

Duke knew she was joshing him but decided to play along. He widened his eyes in fake surprise. “But...but—” A sputter or two would help convince her that he bought her story. “I saw you prepare the soup. I saw what you put in.” He’d watched all right, but his attention had been on the cook, not the ingredients. He gave a shudder that he hoped seemed real. “I can hardly forget what I saw. Can I?”

Billy pushed his chair back and sat forward, preparing to run.

Duke rested a hand on Billy’s arm. “Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone is going to hurt us.” Time to end this farce. “In fact...” He leaned over the table and fixed Rose with a narrow-eyed look. “I remember your mother as a kind, gentle soul. I’m quite certain she’d never threaten to hurt me.”

Rose blinked and then amusement flooded her eyes. She leaned back and laughed. “I thought I had you worried but you were only teasing.”

Billy let out a gust of air. “You were teasing?” he asked Duke.

“We both were,” Rose said. “Sorry if we worried you, Billy.”

Billy looked from Duke to Rose and back again, confusion wreathing his features. Then his expression cleared and he nodded. “That’s how my friend, Andy, acted around his girl.”

Rose’s grin fled. “It’s not like that.”

Duke’s pride nose-dived at her quick denial. Then it rebounded. Had she responded too quickly, as if afraid, or surprised, at the truth in Billy’s words? He grinned at the idea but said nothing.

Instead he talked about how glad he was to be back in Montana. “I didn’t much care for city life.”

She nodded, though he wondered if she was even listening to him.

He tucked a secret smile inside. Perhaps even now she was wondering if there could be a hint of attraction between them.

A few minutes later, Rose glanced across the table. “Are you finished?” At his nod, she started to gather up the dishes.

He waved her away. “I said Billy and I would clean up.”

She nodded and sank back, her gaze on the dressing on his forehead. “You really should be resting.”

“I’ll be fine.” He didn’t get to his feet, knowing dizziness would assault him.

With an uncertain nod, she pushed away from the table and rose. “Then I’ll be on my way.” But she stood there watching him.

He lifted his gaze to hers and had to blink at the concern darkening her eyes. “Rose, I’m fine. Thank you for everything. Rescuing me. Taking care of me...” His throat tightened at all she’d done. Perhaps it was only out of duty and concern for mankind, but her touch, her concern, her smile all wound through his heart with the feel of a personal gift. “And for the delicious meal.” When he said the last words, a thought struck him and he laughed.

She blinked. “The meal was funny?”

He sobered but amusement made his words round and pleasant on his tongue. “Normally a guy takes a gal out for a special dinner. At least that’s been my experience. But this has been the nicest dinner I’ve ever shared with a gal.”

“And you expect me to believe that after you’ve spent a year in Philadelphia?”

“It’s true. Guess it’s the company that makes the difference.”

“More likely it’s the bang on your head that has scrambled your thoughts.”

He had never been more certain of anything despite the throbbing of his wound.

She slipped into her coat and stuffed her hair under a big hat.

Why did she cover her hair? He wanted to yank the hat from her head.

She turned. Something in his look made her hands grow still.

The air between them filled with a wealth of things that needed to be said.

“Rose—” But words were not adequate.

She turned her back and reached for the door handle. “I must go. Goodbye.” She fled the room. Billy had left her horse tied to the rail. Within seconds the thud of hooves rattled through his head.

He rubbed his chin. Why did she remain so prickly when he’d succeeded in getting Father to end the feud?

Did she find him unlikeable?

He considered how often she’d blushed while talking to him, how her eyes had locked on his and then skittered away.

He would not believe she found him unappealing.

Chapter Five

Rose sat in front of the mirror. She undid the braid that held her hair and let her locks fall across her shoulders. Waves of red dulled in the low lamplight. She began to brush her hair.

Billy admired the red color.

Duke said he did, too. She tended to believe him because of the way his eyes had flickered with admiration. But his words didn’t unknot the tension she felt every time her hair was mentioned. She hated her hair. People constantly made comments about it.

She brushed mindlessly, letting scenes from the day flit through her mind.

Billy’s loyalty to Duke.

The way Duke had clung to her as she’d tended his wound. She smiled at her reflection. Had she ever imagined she’d be needed or wanted by a Caldwell?

Her hands grew idle as she continued to stare at herself.

Okay, she’d at least tell herself the truth. There was something about Duke that intrigued her. Perhaps it was only a need to find out how sincere he was.

Or perhaps it went deeper than that. There was something in his probing gaze that touched a spot deep within her, like the gentle strumming of a guitar string. It sang soft and quiet in her heart. What would it be like to hear it wild and exuberant? Her pulse beat faster as if fueled by the beat of a drum.

She set her brush aside and braided her hair for the night. She was Rose, the practical sister who meant to stay home and care for her parents. Where did thoughts of wild and exuberant belong?

In someone else’s life, to be sure.

In bed, she picked up her Bible to read a chapter as she’d done since Ma and Pa had given the girls each a Bible of their own when they were twelve years old. On the flyleaf of each Bible, Ma had written a verse and blessing for each of the girls.

Rose looked at the well-worn page. The verse Ma had chosen for her was Psalm 139:14: “I will praise Thee: for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

She sighed at the words Ma had written.

Rose, my beautiful flower, I pray for you to continually walk in the joy of who God has made you to be.

Some days she rejoiced in who she was. She loved her family and her life on the farm. The work brought her deep satisfaction.

But she had to confess that she didn’t always experience that contentment. Sometimes she questioned why God had given her red hair, why He had allowed her to be born into a family that abandoned her. Still, she never ended that thought without a prayer of gratitude for Ma and Pa adopting them.

She read a chapter and turned out the light to say her prayers. God, keep my feet on a straight path. Guide me to make wise choices.

Duke simply did not belong in that prayer.

Her thoughts settled. Duke was a neighbor who’d needed help. Whether good neighbor or bad, it made no difference. She was foolish to think there could be more. She would not be so unwise as to let her emotions get involved.

* * *

“Morning, Ma. Morning, Pa,” she called as she hurried from the bedroom the next day. She tramped to the barn, shivering in the cold to feed the animals. She pulled the collar of her coat closer against the winter wind.

She sang as she did the chores, then returned to the house. No cows were milking now, but they had frozen milk to use throughout the winter. They had a good supply of butter stored in the garden shed, as well.

“You’re cheerful this morning,” Ma said as Rose joined them for breakfast.

“What’s not to be happy about?” She grinned at both parents, happy to see Pa sitting at the table. “I have two wonderful parents, a barn full of healthy animals, storerooms full of produce and the snow has held off.” It had snowed heavily after Christmas but only drifts remained. “God is good.”

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