Linda Ford - Big Sky Homecoming

His father had never, nor would he ever, accept the mistake that had allowed the Bells to start a farm jutting into the boundaries of the Caldwell Ranch. Father resented the Bells taking advantage of the clerical error. The honorable thing to do, he’d insisted throughout the years, would be to stick to the spirit of the law rather than the letter of it. Worse still was the fact that the intruders were sodbusters who broke the land and put up fences. But the worst of all was that the Bells refused to budge despite every offer to buy them out and numerous attempts to drive them from the land. The whole disagreement had grown over the years until it had become a feud that made no sense.

“I like her,” Billy continued.

“Me, too.” He always had, though he hadn’t been able to express it properly when they were kids so he’d teased her. She’d gotten all prickly but beneath the prickly thorns was a beautiful Rose. He’d always known it but it had never been more evident than today.

He sat back in his saddle, reliving every moment of the afternoon. Rose, her face flushed from her exertion. Rose, her green eyes flashing as she laughed at him chasing the sheep. He grinned. He didn’t normally chase things on foot, but it had been worth it for those few moments of shared laughter.

His pleasure was cut short. She held him at least partially responsible for the feud simply because he was a Caldwell.

This feud should have ended years ago. His father had no call to try to drive the Bells from their land. It had to stop before someone got seriously injured. He’d noticed Mr. Bell limping the few times he’d seen him in town. He’d put it down to age. His teeth clenched. Instead, Rose held the Caldwells responsible. He knew Father would say it was an accident. Not the Caldwells’ fault in the least. But Duke knew Rose was likely correct—Caldwell cowboys had done it. And next time it might not end so well.

He rode up to the ranch house and dismounted.

“Billy, can you take care of the horses?”

Billy grinned as he took the reins of both animals. “I’ll brush ’em really good, Boss.”

Duke chuckled. Normally he wouldn’t have been so eager to take care of the animals, except all the cowboys were away, so no one would tease him. He’d met Billy in Philadelphia and, when he realized the young man had no family, had brought him back with him. Billy hadn’t started calling him “boss” until they’d arrived at the ranch and Billy had realized Duke’s family owned the place.

Still chuckling, Duke entered through the kitchen door. Mrs. Humphrey slipped cookies from a baking sheet onto a cooling rack.

“Mmm. Cookies. Smells good.” He snagged up two as he passed and bit into one. “Hot.”

Mrs. Humphrey shook a towel at him. “They just came out of the oven. What did you expect?”

“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.”