“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
