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