Big Sky Homecoming. Linda Ford
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“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