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 high cheekbones?
Pastor Rawley stepped up to the pulpit and called them to worship.
It took every ounce of Duke’s self-control to concentrate on the service. As soon as it ended, he stood and waited for Rose to acknowledge him.
The two Sundays he’d attended since his return he’d been with his parents and they’d always avoided the Bells. Duke had no intention of doing so today.
Lilly approached first, introducing her husband, Caleb, and the little boy, Teddy. Then Cora introduced her husband, Wyatt, and his brother Lonnie. Mrs. Bell welcomed him home.
Mr. Bell, moving slowly as if in pain, shook his hand and greeted him pleasantly enough.
Only Rose passed by him without a greeting. She met his eyes steadily, pink blushing her cheeks as if she saw him through the eyes of a woman and not the eyes of an adversary. He hugged the knowledge to him.
Wouldn’t she be pleased when he told her that the Bells need no longer fear being hurt or having their property damaged by the Caldwells?
Other worshippers stopped to greet him.
Pastor Rawley spoke to him and asked about his parents.
Slowly he made his way down the aisle and reached the yard in time to see the Bells leave in three wagons. It appeared the whole family gathered together after church.
He considered riding over later, so eager was he to see Rose’s response to his announcement. But no, he’d delay until the next day when he could see her alone.
The rest of Sunday passed slowly, though Billy enjoyed it. They rode into the hills, where Duke showed the other man some of his favorite places—a grove of trees where he’d camped out several times, the buffalo wallow where he’d found several buffalo bones, the pond where he used to swim.
It was good to be home. It would be even better when Rose knew the feud was over and done with. How would she show her gratitude? He realized he stared into space, lost in dreams of possibilities, and forced his attention back to the here and now...
Finally, Monday arrived. He decided to wait until early afternoon, when she’d have her chores done.
“Billy, how about we go pay Rose and her family a visit?”
“Oh, I’d like that.”
“Let’s go saddle up.”
Billy rushed ahead of him. The young man loved animals and the horses responded to his entrance into the barn with welcoming nickers.
A few minutes later they rode across the prairie toward the Bell place. Duke took in a deep breath, full of fresh air the likes of which he had not breathed the whole time he was in Philadelphia. He pulled his horse to a halt so he could drink in the surroundings. The mountains were draped in white. The pine and spruce were almost black in the distance. Nearer at hand, the snow-dusted hills rolled to the river where the willow and poplar had shed their leaves and stood like quiet skeletons waiting the renewal of spring.
His gaze returned to the mountains. “You never saw anything like that back in the city, did you, Billy?”
“No.” Billy stared at the mountains. “Can we go there someday?” His words were round with awe.
“We sure can. But maybe we’ll wait until spring.”
“Okay. Are we almost to where Rose lives?”
Duke chuckled. “Are you anxious to see her?”
Billy ducked his head. “She’s pretty and nice.”
“How can you tell she’s nice?”
“I could tell by her voice when she talked to me.”
“I suppose you could.” The young man likely had more experience than most with hearing different tones in voices. As Duke well knew, people often mocked him. A kind voice would be refreshingly different.
“We’re almost there.” They crested a hill and looked down on the Bell farm. There was a new barn since he’d seen the place last year. The fruit trees had grown some and, if he wasn’t mistaken, there were more of them.
Pigs grunted in one pen, sheep milled about in another. He smiled as he recalled helping Rose chase them in. She’d made him laugh. He liked that.
Three milk cows chewed their cuds in another pen and a horse drowsed in the afternoon sun. It jerked awake and neighed at their approach.
“This