Big Sky Homecoming
Page 10
He jammed the fork down hard enough to send a shudder up his arm.
An ordinary cowboy with hopes and dreams of his own. Someday people would see it.
He finished cleaning the barn, saddled King and a horse for Billy and returned to the house. “Are you ready to go?”
Billy grabbed his coat. “I can’t wait. Mrs. Bell said I could have Patches for my own.”
“Patches?”
“My cat. She’s so nice. I love her and she loves me.”
As they rode toward the Bells, Duke heard a lot more about Patches than he could hope to remember. The wind caught them as they passed the grove of trees and he pulled up the collar of his coat. January could produce nasty storms or unexpected warm spells as they’d had for the past few days. This cold wind reminded him this was a Montana winter.
They crested the last hill and he came to a halt. The Bell farm looked calm and peaceful. No sign of the Caldwell cowboys anywhere. He let out a relieved sigh.
Rose would soon see the feud was over.
Would she be glad to see him?
In his mind things had shifted between them since she rescued him and tended his wounds, but it could be the feeling was one-sided.
“You gonna change your mind?” Billy asked. “’Cause if you are, I’m going anyway. I want to see Patches and Rose and her ma and pa.”
“I haven’t changed my mind.”
He rode down the hill.
She would no doubt hear their approach. Would she run out to ask them to leave or open the door and invite them in?
He reached the front of the house and dismounted before the door opened.
Rose stepped out, a coat hanging crookedly from her shoulders and unbuttoned as if she’d donned it hastily.
“Are you okay?” she asked. At the look of concern in her face, Duke felt a little smug. Her gaze went to the bandage on his forehead.
He touched it. “I’m fine. But you forgot to get books. I brought you some.”
Air whooshed from her in one long exhalation. “Books? You rode all the way over here just for books?”
“He misses you,” Billy said. “Can I see Patches?”
Rose’s eyes widened. “You missed me?” Her gaze held his like a vise.
He hadn’t said so but realized it was absolutely true. The house had seemed empty and silent after she’d left. “Winter days tend to be long.”
Only the way the corners of her eyes crinkled gave him an indication that she was pleased at his admission.
Billy shifted from foot to foot and sighed deeply, calling Rose’s attention to him.
“Come along. I’ll take you to see Patches.” She pulled her coat closed and tramped toward the barn. Their dog, Grub, followed on her heels.
Duke stood rooted to the spot. Was he invited?
She glanced over her shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Sure am.” He tied up the horses and caught up to her.
At the barn Rose called, “Kitty, kitty.” And the place exploded with half a dozen cats. She squatted and let them rub against her.
Billy plopped to the floor and pulled a motley-colored cat into his lap.
Duke leaned against the nearest stall and glanced around. Though much smaller than the one on his ranch, the barn was new enough the boards were still yellow. Cows chewed their cuds contentedly, while a horse neighed a greeting. In one corner he spied a tack room that was orderly and neat as the rest of the barn. The place was warm and welcoming—not a thought he normally entertained in a barn. It was like drinking sweet hot cocoa.
Rose eyed him, her eyes flashing. “You don’t like cats?”
Billy’s head came up, shock widening his eyes. “You don’t?”
“I like cats just fine.” To prove it, he hunkered down to the floor and scooped up a black-and-white cat. It rumbled a greeting and pressed its face to his chest. “Friendly, aren’t they?” The cats at the ranch were wild things. Once when he was younger he’d found a batch of kittens and spent time playing with them. When his father discovered what he was up to, the batch of kittens was moved.
“You’re spoiling them,” Father had said by way of explanation. “The cats have a job to do.”
Duke had not petted a cat since. But now he found it a pleasant experience.
Billy smiled his approval but Rose continued to study him in a challenging way.
“What?” he asked.
She shifted her attention to the cat she held. “Nothing.” A beat of waiting silence. “It’s just that I’m having a hard time thinking of you with a cat as a pet.”
Her words, though gently spoken, stung. “Again, the poor opinion of me. Can’t you see me as just Duke?” He couldn’t say if it was anticipation or dread causing him to hold his breath. Or both.
She continued to stroke the cat, as if it demanded her complete attention.
Billy followed Patches into the tack room and found a length of leather to pull across the floor for the cat to chase.
Prepared to have his question ignored, Duke released his breath slowly and quietly.
Perhaps not as quietly as he thought for she looked at him and at the uncertainty in her face his hands grew still.
She rocked her head back and forth slowly. “It’s impossible to forget you’re a Caldwell.”
She pushed her hat from her head.
He kept his gaze riveted to hers even though the fall of red hair enticed him.
“You’re a Caldwell,” she repeated. “You have a picture of a Caldwell home that was built in the thirteenth century. You know who you are.” Her forehead wrinkled, making him want to reach out and smooth it. Smooth away her worries at the same time. “I don’t know who I am.”
“You’re Rose Bell.”
“But who is that? A child found on the prairie. That’s all I know about me.” She pressed her open palm to her chest.
“I don’t think that’s completely true. Rose, I’ve known you most of my life. And there is so much more to you than that.”
Her hungry eyes begged to be fed with evidence.
“I don’t even know where to begin. First, you are a loving, loyal, protective sister and daughter.” A memory made him chuckle. “Remember the time young Morty stole Lilly’s lunch pail and wouldn’t give it back? He had Lilly in tears. Your eyes flashed like hard green rocks. I almost warned Morty he better be careful but I figured he needed to be taught a lesson and you were the one to do it.”
She waited, her eyes wide, letting him tell the story as he remembered it.
“You marched up to him, your fists bunched at your sides, until you were practically eyeball to eyeball with him. Poor Morty didn’t know what to do. He raised the pail as if he meant to hit you with it but you yanked it from his hand.” Duke chuckled. “He backed away but you kept pressing forward until he ran into the schoolyard fence. I’ll never forget what you said. ‘You leave my sister alone or I’ll rearrange your face so even your own mother won’t recognize you.’”
Duke tipped his head back and roared. When his amusement was under control, he grinned at her. “I’ll never forget the look on your face.” He pretended to shudder.
She shrugged one shoulder as if to say it didn’t matter. “All I remember is how angry I was and how afraid Ma and Pa would be upset with me.”
“Were they?”
“I don’t think they ever knew.” Her shoulders sagged.
“There’s more.” He had to convince her to see herself as others did. “You’re a good neighbor. Why, you’d even help someone you didn’t care for.” He couldn’t put his name in the “someone” category even though he knew that’s how she viewed him—not a friend, not a good neighbor, just a person who needed help. One she didn’t much care for. How he wanted to change that.
Her eyes widened.
Had he gone too far? It was true and he wouldn’t retract the words.
Another memory—this one less welcome—surfaced. “Say, weren’t you and George Olsen seeing each other when I left? Has he asked for your hand yet?”
“No.” She lowered her head.
Relief rushed through his veins, though why it should be, he wasn’t prepared to say.
“Why not? Is the man stalling?”
“We aren’t seeing each other any longer.” So much pain and disappointment filled her words that Duke squeezed his fists until the knuckles whitened.
He sought for a way to ask for an explanation but before he found one, she lifted her head and her eyes bored into his. He held his breath at her intensity.
“His mother convinced him I was not a good prospect.”
He didn’t move a muscle for fear of ending this moment that felt as fragile as a freshly fallen snowflake on warm ground.
“After all,” she continued, each word strained. “I quote, ‘What does anyone know about who she is? No one can vouch for her background.’”
He understood how the words had seared her heart. “Oh, Rose.” He touched her cheek. “People say cruel things that have no truth in them. I used to tease you and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to notice me. I wanted to be seen for who I was and not just a Caldwell.” He cupped her face with his hands. “Your hair is beautiful. You are beautiful—inside and out. You shouldn’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.”
Did she realize she leaned ever so slightly into his hand as she clung to his gaze? The air between them filled with expectation and—
Hope?
He couldn’t say what sort of hope, nor what it would look like if fulfilled, but it overflowed his heart.
The cat on his lap demanded attention and the moment ended. He almost wondered if it had ever happened.
Rose pressed her face to the cat in her lap and looked at him through the curtain of her eyelashes.
If he wasn’t mistaken, she wore a pleased expression.
Was it possible his words had encouraged her? He could ask for nothing better.
It didn’t matter that she was a Bell and he a Caldwell. All that mattered was that she believed him when he said she was a beautiful woman—both inside and out.
Did she see him as Duke, an ordinary cowboy, or did the Caldwell image still cloud her thoughts?
Chapter Eight
Rose pressed her face to the cat’s soft fur. Duke’s words caressed her insides every bit as much as the cat’s fur did her skin.
He considered her strong. Beautiful.
It didn’t matter that he had teased her when they were younger. Today he’d given her something no one before had. A blessing.
Billy ran by, chasing Patches and laughing. Grub loped after them, woofing enjoyment at the game.
Rose laughed, too. As much from her inner joy as amusement at watching Billy.
Her gaze slipped unbidden to Duke and stalled there as he smiled. The air between them shimmered with the thought that he liked her. Even more, he approved of her. Saw her with strengths and abilities.
Then Billy ran by again and her cat took off after the cord Billy dragged.
Duke’s cat escaped, too.
Duke got to his feet and held out a hand to help her up.
His hand enfolded hers. He didn’t release her even after she gained her feet but smiled down at her in a way that claimed her heart.
He might be a Caldwell, might even be part of an ongoing land feud between their families, but at the moment she wanted only to cling to his hand, to drink in his look of appreciation and—
Whoa. If she wasn’t careful she’d be throwing caution to the wind and hugging the man hard enough to make him protest.
“Rose.” Ma’s voice came from the house, the distance reducing it to a mere whisper on the wind. “Dinnertime. Bring your guests.”
Rose slipped her hand away and put a good six feet of distance between them, her cheeks burning. Ma hadn’t seen her, but Rose’s conscience always caused her to imagine that Ma or Pa or both sat on her shoulder watching. What would they think of her being so captivated by Duke’s few simple, kind words when they’d offered those same sentiments time and time again and they hadn’t impacted her so profoundly?
“You heard my ma. Join us for the meal.”
Billy scooped up Patches. “Can I bring her?” He obviously took Duke’s acceptance of the invitation for granted.
Ma didn’t much care for cats in the house, though she would likely allow an exception for Billy. But—
“Patches might not like it. She’s never been in the house. The barn is her home.”
“Okay.” He put the cat on the floor. “I’ll be back.”
Rose’s cheeks had cooled. Her thoughts were under control and she let her gaze go to Duke. “You will come in?” She really wanted him to and not just out of neighborliness. Nor because Ma would scold her if she let them leave when a meal waited for them. Not even because he’d brought a book or two.
She wanted to cling to the gift he’d given—a feeling of being seen as Rose. It might well be a temporary feeling and only words from a gilded tongue, but for now she basked in the glow.
Duke glanced toward the door then let his gaze roam the interior of the barn. “It’s nice in here.”
She laughed. “Are you afraid of my folks? Besides, it’s even nicer in the house.” Doubts assailed her. The house was simple. Why, the whole thing would fit into the Caldwell kitchen. Would he find the house small and confining, their lives simple and awkward? “It won’t be fancy but Ma is a good cook and you’ll get a hot meal before you return home.”
Billy waited at the door, anxiety on his face.
Duke’s gaze didn’t quite meet Rose’s but rested on something over her shoulder. “Do they know your guest is a Caldwell?”
Her heart tipped sideways at his question and she recalled how he had on more than one occasion wished to be seen as Duke—not a Caldwell. Could she return the generous gift of approval he’d given her?
“Duke, it would make no difference to my parents. Their hospitality is always generous.” She would have added that the strain between the Bells and Caldwells was not due to Ma and Pa. Ma, especially, thought bad feelings between neighbors was wrong. But Duke slowly brought his gaze to hers. The uncertainty in his eyes pinched the back of her heart and she couldn’t bring herself to say or to do anything to deepen the doubt in his gaze.
She took two steps toward him and patted his arm. “She’ll be hurt if you refuse her invitation.” So would Rose. Though for the life of her she couldn’t explain how and when she’d stopped seeing him as a Caldwell whom she should avoid.
“Very well.” But he sounded anything but certain.
Billy pushed open the barn door and let in a blast of cold air. The sky was heavy with gray clouds.
Rose escorted them across the yard.
A succulent aroma made them all sniff the air before they reached the house.
“Smells yummy,” Billy said.
“Ma’s split-pea soup.”
Duke stopped at his horse to remove a sack.
Sure looked like more than two books, she thought. Wouldn’t Pa be pleased?
They stepped into the house.
“Ma, Pa, you remember Duke?” They’d already met Billy.
“Of course, welcome to our home.” Ma wiped her hands on her apron and held them out to welcome the guests.
Pa got up slowly from his chair.
Rose held her breath as h
e straightened. If only his ribs would heal. Ma assured her they would in time.
His steps firmer than she’d seen in some time, Pa crossed the floor to shake hands with Duke and Billy. “Good to see you.” He waved them to chairs on one side of the table as Ma dished out the soup.
Rose took a seat across from Duke and glanced around the table. She took in the well-worn wooden table, simple bowls, mismatched pieces of silverware, and the brown teapot. Everything was simple and plain but cheeriness filled the room. At least in her mind.
What did Duke think of it?
She studied him openly, perhaps a bit challengingly.
He met her look with a mirror image of her own. “This is very nice. Thank you for inviting us to share your meal.” He spoke to Ma then brought his gaze back to Rose, his eyebrow slightly arched.
Her eyes stung and she ducked her head. She was doing exactly as he accused others of doing—judging him on the basis of being a Caldwell. How unfair of her. She faced him and smiled, hoping he would understand and accept her silent apology.
He tipped his head slightly and gave a narrow smile.
“I’ll ask the blessing,” Pa said.
Rose reached for her parents’ hands on either side as Pa reached for Duke’s. Ma and Billy already held hands and Billy grinned as if he’d received a great gift.
Rose sensed Duke’s hesitation. Would Pa forgo the hand-holding this time? No. He waited until Duke lifted his hand to the table and let Pa squeeze it.
Duke’s eyes widened and turned a paler blue.
She ducked her head and smiled. Pa’s acceptance of Duke had clearly surprised him.
Pa asked a blessing on the food and on their guests. “May they be filled with the bounty of our table and may we be blessed by each other’s company. Amen.”
Rose glanced up in time to catch a look of wonder on Duke’s face. See? she wanted to shout. The Bells aren’t bad people. You might learn to welcome them as neighbors. Wouldn’t that be great?
The thick, satisfying soup and freshly baked bread occupied everyone for a few minutes, then Ma brought forward an apple pie.
“These are apples from our own trees,” Rose said after Duke had taken a bite and closed his eyes in delight.