by Linda Ford
Perhaps Aunt Hilda cared for orphaned children. That would explain why he’d had to leave as he got bigger. Rose sadly acknowledged the fact that children in their own home with their own parents were also often forced to leave as they got older. Some were even abandoned at a young age. Why? The question wailed through her thoughts. She pushed it back to the depths of the dark cave within her.
Billy shook his head so hard his hair flung across his face. “I did not like that man. He did not like me. He hurt me.” Billy’s face wrinkled up as if the pain still existed.
“Oh, Billy. I’m so sorry.” She rubbed his shoulder until he smiled.
“It’s okay ’cause now I got you and Duke for friends. I like you.”
“You’re a good man, Billy Boy,” Duke said with a gentle smack to Billy’s back that made Billy’s smile widen.
“You’re a good man, Duke.” Billy gave a manly pat to Duke’s shoulder. “Now I’ll do the dishes while you—” He looked around as if searching for something for Duke and Rose to do.
“Why don’t you show Rose the house? That’s a good thing to do.” Billy carried the dirty dishes to the cupboard. “When you get back you’ll see how good I do.”
“Rose, can I show you around?” Duke stood at the side of the table awaiting her answer.
She hung back. “Billy, don’t you want some help?”
His face creased. “Do I need it? Maybe I do.”
She hadn’t meant to make him think he couldn’t manage on his own. “I don’t expect you need any help whatsoever.” Glad to see the smile return to Billy’s face, she turned to Duke. “Lead the way, Mr. Caldwell.” She hoped she sounded teasing but she meant the words to remind her of who she was and how much separated them.
Duke waited for her to fall in at his side and led her from the room to the one she’d been in the day before. He pulled back heavy drapes on the windows.
Light flooded the room and Rose’s eyes grew wide. She’d expected heavy furniture and—
She wasn’t sure what, but she surely hadn’t expected this.
A bright room full of books and inviting nooks. A fire crackled in the fireplace.
Duke stood with his hands crossed over his chest, watching her reaction. “This is my favorite room in the house.”
She turned full circle, pleasure growing at every detail she took in. “I can see why.” She moved to his side and looked out the window. The view allowed them to see anyone approaching the ranch but also the trees to the right of the trail, their bare branches now frosted with snow. To the left, the rise and fall of the land led to the river though from here only a dark shadow indicated its place. “It’s a beautiful view.”
“You haven’t seen the best. Come along.” He led her through an archway on the far side of the room and she gasped.
“Oh, my.”
He chuckled. “Nice, isn’t it?”
They had entered a library. Or was it a sun porch? Though—despite all the windows—it lacked the wintery chill of a porch because of the potbellied stove to one side.
Rose couldn’t resist walking along the bountiful bookshelves, reading the titles. “Have you read all these?”
“Would you believe me if I said I had?”
She studied him, unable to tell if he was serious or mocking. “I don’t know. It’s a lot of books.” Wouldn’t Pa enjoy something new to read?
“Feel free to borrow one. Or as many as you like.” He tipped his head and grinned, which had a rather unsettling affect on her breathing. “I have only read a handful of them myself.”
“Thank you. Pa would really enjoy a book.” Should she accept this offer or did it cross one more line that she should be avoiding? Her heart called out a warning. Too often she trusted people only to discover they could as easily forget her as the snow of last winter.
She rubbed her palms along her thighs. “Maybe later.”
“Don’t forget.” He crossed the room and again pulled aside the drapes. “Come and see the view.”
Rose had been about to exit the room, not because she wasn’t interested in seeing more but because she found it so incredibly appealing. She had not once thought the Caldwells would have such a beautiful home. From the dark green wood floor to the wide, wooden book shelves to the wicker chairs and blue cushions to the scattered afghans—there wasn’t a thing about this room that failed to please her senses.
She couldn’t resist his invitation and joined him at the window. “Oh, my.” She pressed her hand to her chest.
“I agree.”
It was a perfect view of snow-covered mountains and white pastures dotted with trees and cows placidly grazing.
“It’s like a picture postcard.”
“It’s nice all right.” He leaned against the window frame, watching her.
She could barely tear her gaze from the sight but neither could she stand there forever with Duke grinning at her. She knew an incredible sense of peace and contentment, which was at such odds with the tension and annoyance she normally felt around Duke. She should be alarmed. But at the moment she wasn’t.
“There’s more to the house.” His voice rang with teasing but not in a way that stole from the moment.
She reluctantly left behind the view and followed him to a door that led to a dark hallway. To her right were wide doors to the outside—no doubt the main entry. She’d been coming in the kitchen entry, apparently.
Across the hall a door opened to the ranch office with a big mahogany desk and leather furniture. This room was what she’d expected from the house—dark, forbidding and full of shadows.
Duke didn’t invite her into the room but led her down the hall and pushed open double pocket doors. “The dining room.” He stepped aside to let her enter.
She wasn’t sure what to make of this room. In the center was a large table of gleaming, dark wood on which someone had placed a white runner with a pattern of intricate cutwork and a basket of bright red and silver balls. Leftovers from Christmas perhaps? A huge sideboard held a silver tea service. Windows looked out on the same mountain scene from the other room, though most of the view was obscured by heavy drapes partially drawn. This room provided another reminder of the difference between the Caldwells and the Bells. She would do well to sear the picture into her brain.
A narrow door beside the sideboard revealed a tiny pantry with a door she knew would connect to the kitchen. She crossed to stand in the pantry. Safe in the servants’ quarters. She had half a mind to slip through the connecting door, back to the kitchen. A sigh passed her teeth. Had she forgotten Duke offered to show her the house? She was a guest. She had every right to be here.
Determination and resolve in place, she turned and considered the dining room again, trying to assess her feeling. It was large and formal yet not unfriendly.
Duke stood in front of her, looking into her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But I can’t decide what to think of this room. I loved the— Do you call those first rooms a library?”
“Library or sitting room.”
She nodded. “They are beautiful and welcoming. The office is...well, it’s not.”
He laughed. “My father doesn’t intend it to be welcoming. I think he wants people who meet him there to be intimidated.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure it works.” She glanced around. “But this room is not like either of those. It’s...” She shrugged again.
“Well, let me tell you, it can be very cheerful on the right occasion. Or intimidating on others.”
“I believe it.” She returned to the hall.
He stopped at her side. “Rose, is the house what you expected?”
She considered her reactions. “I have to say it isn’t.”
They faced each other, so close she fell into the intensity of h
is gaze as he searched beyond her words to the depths of her heart.
“What did you expect?” His words seemed to ask for assurance.
She tried to make herself realize how foolish such a notion was. But his gaze was so demanding it burned the backs of her eyes. It made her heart stick to her ribs and forget to work. It caused her tongue to seize so she couldn’t speak even if she’d been able to pull a word from her befuddled brain.
He repeated his question.
“I—” She would not stammer. “I expected it to be more like your father’s office than the sitting room.” Words suddenly burst from her mouth. “You are rich and powerful.” She meant the Caldwells in general. “Your house is big. I thought it would be like its owners. Cold and forbidding. I guess I just never thought it would have appealing aspects.”
His expression flattened. The blue of his eyes grew icy and he shifted his gaze away.
“I’m sorry. I spoke hastily.”
“You judge us Caldwells rather harshly.”
The truth could not be avoided. “I’ve had cause, wouldn’t you say?”
“Perhaps you did.” He emphasized the final word, then moved down the hall toward a flight of stairs leading upward. His hand rested on the ornately carved baluster as he turned to confront her. “Rose, is it possible that we can forget about the feud between our fathers and just be friends?”
The idea enticed her. She would like a friend who lived close by. Someone she could enjoy visiting with. But was it possible? Especially if he continued to insist the feud had ended when she saw no evidence to support his belief. To the contrary, she had seen plenty to make her certain it wasn’t over. She shivered. Even now the Caldwell cowboys could be up to mischief. If Pa saw them, he’d try to stop them and with his injured ribs... Please, God, protect Ma and Pa.
“Never mind.” Duke took a step upward but before he got further, Billy dashed into the hallway.
“Come and see. Come and see.” He waved them to follow and trotted away.
“What’s wrong?” Rose called, but Billy disappeared down the hall and back to the kitchen without answering. She pressed a hand to her throat. “Did he sound frightened?” She wasn’t sure.
“We better go find out.” Duke caught her elbow and together they rushed after Billy.
* * *
Duke restricted his grasp on Rose’s elbow to a mere touch when he wanted nothing more than to drag her around to face him and demand why she couldn’t accept his offer of friendship.
Was she unwilling to forgive the things done in the past to the Bells by the Caldwell cowboys? He’d have to ask her what she thought about forgiveness.
Right now, though, he had to find out what had upset Billy.
They reached the kitchen where Billy stood in front of the west-facing window. “Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.” Each word caught in his throat.
They rushed to his side to see what upset him.
“Oh!” Rose gasped. “Billy, don’t look.”
A wounded deer.
Blood leaked from a wound in its shoulder where someone had shot it.
Bile burned up Duke’s throat. “Whoever did this should have finished the job.” He strode toward the door and reached for the rifle.
Billy spun around. “You’re going to shoot her?”
“Billy, I have no choice. The animal is seriously wounded.”
“No, don’t. You can’t. She’s just a poor little deer.” He flung around to Rose. “You can fix her, can’t you? Like you fixed Duke.”
Rose caught Billy’s shoulders. “She’s suffering, Billy.”
Billy flung away. “I’ll help her.” He darted past Duke and out the door without bothering to take a coat.
Rose rushed after Billy. “We better stop him.”
Duke grabbed his jacket and handed Rose hers.
They barely made it to the step before a shot rang out.
Rose gasped. “Who’s shooting? What if Billy—” She didn’t finish but lifted her skirts and ran.
Duke’s heart kicked into a gallop and so did his feet as he raced around the side of the house at Rose’s heels. His pulse thundered in the cut on his forehead.
Side by side, they rounded the corner.
“Billy.” Rose’s cry filled the air.
Billy lay across the animal, now lying quietly in the snow, relieved of its suffering.
Not ten feet away Ebner stood, a rifle at his shoulder.
Duke ground to a halt and grabbed Rose as she made to pass him. He wasn’t about to run blindly into the sights of a loaded gun.
“Billy!” Rose shrieked.
“What’s going on here?” Duke spoke calmly although his insides boiled.
Ebner slowly lowered the gun. “Just putting the creature out of its misery.”
For a moment Duke thought he meant Billy and his hands balled into fists.
“I didn’t see your stupid friend until he burst around the corner. Coulda got hisself shot.”
“Could have?” Rose tore loose from Duke’s grasp and rushed to Billy. She shook him and called his name. When Billy turned his tear-streaked face toward Rose, Duke released pent-up air.
“She’s dead,” Billy wailed.
“I know. Come, let’s go inside.” Rose tried to pull him to his feet.
Seeing her efforts, Duke went to assist her. “Come, Billy. There’s nothing we can do for her.”
Together they managed to get Billy standing and turned him toward the house.
Duke glanced over his shoulder at Ebner. “See that you move that right away.” He could just imagine Billy watching out the window, crying over the poor animal’s death.
Ebner signaled to a cowboy in the corrals to bring a horse.
At the house Billy paused. “Is she in Heaven now?”
“She could be, all right,” Duke said.
Billy shuddered. “Then she’ll be happy.”
They guided him inside.
“Why, look at the time.” Rose glanced at the clock. “I need to start dinner. Billy, would you help me? My. Look at how clean the kitchen is.”
Billy beamed. “Did I do a good job?”
“It’s as clean as brand new.”
Duke filled a glass with water and downed it, giving himself an opportunity to glance out the window. Already the carcass was gone, leaving only a faint pink color in the snow.
He turned, caught Rose’s questioning glance and nodded. She flashed a smile so full of gratitude that his lungs momentarily forgot to work.
“What are you going to make?” Billy asked.
She shifted her gaze to him. “What would you like?”
“I liked your soup yesterday.” He grew thoughtful. “But Duke really likes potatoes and gravy. Maybe we should make that.”
“That’s a fine idea. Is that the pantry?” She indicated the door past the stove.
Duke pulled it open. “Mrs. Humphrey is very efficient. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need.”
“Billy, can you get half a dozen potatoes?” She dove into the pantry and began examining jars. “Ah, here we go.” She chose canned beef Mrs. Humphrey had done in the fall.
Duke leaned against the cupboards watching her scurry around. Her assessment of the Caldwells—of him—still stung his insides, but watching her work in the Caldwell kitchen, seemingly at home, eased the burn of her words. If only they could corral the moment. Them together. No animosity between them. His insides coiled. How long would it last before she’d remember he was a Caldwell and remind him of the fact? Seems she couldn’t look past that.
She stepped back into the kitchen. “Billy, what’s wrong?” He stood over the potato bin without moving.
“How many is half a dozen? I forget.”
; “Six.”
Billy carefully counted them out and began to wash them.
Rose opened the jar of meat and emptied it into a pot.
“What can I do to help?” Duke asked.
Rose’s head jerked up, her eyes round, her mouth agape.
Her surprise scratched at his innards. “When will you stop treating me like I’m useless?” Did she think being a Caldwell meant he was unable to do anything practical?
If he wasn’t mistaken, she looked confused.
“Duke, somehow I don’t think you belong in a kitchen.”
He moved closer so he could enjoy her scent. “Rose, I’m a cowboy at heart. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Being a Caldwell was only where he’d been born.
She nodded. Opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again and turned back to the stove.
His heart ached. How he longed for her to see him for who he was.
“Rose, give me a chance.” He didn’t care that his words revealed the depth of his need.
Billy looked from one to the other, his face twisted with worry. “Rose, you gotta tell him he’s not stupid.”
She slowly straightened. Took her time about setting the big spoon aside and even more time to face Duke.
His breath caught in the back of his throat and lodged there as he waited for her to speak.
Her expression shifted from guardedness to resignation in slow degrees and then she smiled, and his lungs remembered to do their job.
“Duke Caldwell.”
Did she have to emphasize his surname as if to remind them both of how much lay between them?
“You aren’t stupid.” Her gaze darted to the bandage around his head. “Well, maybe with one exception. Riding a horse you can’t control.”
He laughed with both delight and resignation. “You’ll never let me forget that, will you?”
Her smile widened. “I think you’ll get plenty of reminding every time you look in the mirror.”
“Really?” He crossed to the little mirror above the cupboard and rolled back the bandage.
Rose gasped. “You’ll start it bleeding again.”
Indeed he had, but he didn’t for one moment regret it.