by Linda Ford
He’d done something completely new and out of his realm of experience, and it pleased him no end. Come to think of it, this was not the first time he and Rose had done something together that had been a little challenging.
“Remember when we were on the same team at church?” Their class had been divided into three groups and each group had been given a challenge. Theirs was to memorize fifty Bible verses, do a group project to help someone and prepare a presentation for the whole class.
“You didn’t learn the verses.”
“I always had trouble with memorization.” He waited for her to meet his eyes. “You helped me.”
“I couldn’t have our group failing because of one weak link.” She grinned in a teasing way that took away any sting from her words. “I wanted to be able to go on the picnic Mr. Benson promised.”
“Thanks to you, we didn’t miss out.” She’d made a game out of memorizing the verses. Showed him how to find connections between the words and phrases.
“You’re a good teacher,” he said.
“You’re a good learner.” She didn’t even reveal surprise. She tipped her head to consider him. “You taught a good lesson to the others, too.”
He ducked his head. “I think I was a little forceful.”
She chuckled. “You made your point.”
“Really?” He studied her, liking the way her eyes sparkled. “Exactly what point did I make?” He raised his eyebrows and silently challenged her.
“You think I don’t truly remember, don’t you? But you’re wrong. You spoke from one of our memory verses. James, chapter 1, verse 27. “‘Pure religion...’”
He joined her in quoting the verse and earned a smile of approval.
She continued. “‘To visit the fatherless and widows.’ You told the class about our project of gathering toys and books and taking them to the widow Willa Simmons and her four children.”
“The kids were so pleased.”
“Mrs. Simmons was even more thrilled when you fellas fixed her broken door and chopped a bunch of wood.”
“It was a good day.”
“I think the whole class was encouraged to find more people to help. You spoke very powerfully.”
They studied each other silently and in that moment something sweet and eternal filled a corner of his heart.
“Can I have a cookie?” Billy asked.
She jerked her attention away from Duke. “Of course.” She tasted a cookie. He did, too.
“Delicious,” they said in unison and grinned openly at each other.
She’d given him a gift. Not just the fresh cookies. But...
He sorted through his feelings until he found the word he wanted. Friendship. Friendship and acceptance.
The storm continued to roar outside but inside was warm and cozy.
He glanced around. The Bells had opened their home to him even though he was a Caldwell. They were good and generous people.
Duke took in the interior of the house. Everywhere he looked he saw evidence of their hard work. The jars of preserves on the shelf; the pantry with rows and rows of homegrown and home-canned produce. The fruit trees Mr. Bell was so proud of. No wonder they didn’t want to leave even when Father had offered them a generous amount of money to buy the place.
He turned back to his cookie making. Rose would soon learn she no longer had anything to fear from the Caldwells. The two of them could continue to be friends. And maybe more? He smiled at the thought.
Chapter Ten
Rose had not enjoyed baking cookies so much since the first time Ma had helped her make them herself. No, she amended. This was even more fun. No offense to Ma but Duke’s company was a lot more enjoyable than that of a parent.
The last batch of cookies cooled.
“You aren’t done yet,” she warned Duke as he stood with his hands on his hips, his chest puffed out as he admired his work.
He ran a finger around the edge of the bowl. “The dough is gone.”
“The dirty dishes have to be cleaned up.”
His eyes widened. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. “I have to wash dishes?”
Billy giggled, then covered his mouth lest Duke object.
Rose had no such qualms and chuckled. “That’s how it works.” At least at the Bell household. No doubt Mrs. Humphrey did any cleaning up required at the Caldwells’.
But he was at the Bells’ and she meant to treat him as she would any friend. Though when had she ever entertained anyone who made the hours fly by with a confusing mixture of pleasure and caution?
He’d reminded her of the time in church when they’d been on the same team. How had it happened that they’d been placed together? Perhaps deliberately. Mr. Benson taught about friendship, forgiveness and acceptance. No doubt he meant for Rose and Duke to apply the lessons in a practical way. Rose remembered that she had objected on principle but had found satisfaction in discovering something she was better at than Duke. And in helping him learn the verses. Her selfish satisfaction had changed to a sense of accomplishment when he quickly learned from her suggestions.
Duke held up a hand, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “I’m not objecting. I’m just...well, I guess it makes me feel less like a guest and more like a friend.” The look he gave her warmed her clear to the marrow of her bones. He rubbed his hands together. “Show me the way.”
She turned to the cupboard and filled the wash basin with hot water. She gathered the dirty utensils but Duke caught her wrists before she could dip her hands into the water.
“I’ll do it.”
She stepped back to let him tackle the washing up. Then she grabbed a towel and dried.
Why did it feel so intimate to do dishes together? George had visited a few times, of course. But he’d always sat at the table and watched whatever work had to be done. As if it was beneath him to help. And yet, a Caldwell with a thirteenth-century castle in Scotland worked at her side.
Just like Wyatt and Caleb!
The realization burned a hot trail through her thoughts. It had been part of her brothers-in-laws’ courting routine as they’d spent time with her sisters. And now Wyatt and Cora were married and so were Caleb and Lilly.
Whoa! She slammed the door on her runaway thoughts. There was absolutely no similarity. Duke was here simply because of the storm.
A contrary argument rattled inside her head. What had brought her sisters’ husbands to the farm?
Wyatt had stopped because he’d had a horse too heavy in foal to continue.
Caleb had only come by to get help with an injured pup.
Neither had come calling to start with.
She gave herself a mental shake as she put away the dried mixing bowl. Just because he wanted to be friends, wanted to do dishes, wanted to end the feud, did not mean he wanted to court her.
Duke wiped the table clean. “There. Am I done?”
“You are and a fine job you’ve done.”
He grinned at her praise.
Ma set aside the sock she’d been darning and pushed to her feet. “I best start supper.”
Pa glanced up. “Duke, you’re welcome to look through my books. Perhaps there’s one you care to read.”
“Thank you.”
Rose watched him kneel at their meager bookcase. What would he think of the poor selection?
He pulled out a well-worn book, one of Pa’s favorites, and stroked the cover.
Her throat tightened though she was at a loss to understand the clog of tears. It was only a book, for goodness’ sake. But something about his reverent gesture and his lack of criticism at Pa’s few titles plucked at her tears.
He sat in Ma’s chair and opened the book. His head dipped as he began to read.
As she helped Ma
with supper preparations, the storm continued to batter the house. Duke and Billy would have to remain as guests for the meal and perhaps even longer. For now, the outside world, the feud, even the Caldwell family history and her own lack of history could be ignored.
Billy hovered at Ma’s side. “I can help cook.”
Ma moved over and indicated he should join her. She quietly instructed him when he needed it.
As Rose worked at the cupboard, she glanced toward Duke. When he watched her, she quickly returned her attention to her task. But time and again her gaze darted toward him. Did he even read the book on his lap? Every time she glanced his way his gaze was on her, intent and full of—
She swallowed hard. She must be mistaken. Why would he look at her with longing?
Difficult as it was, she didn’t look at him again. But she remained aware of his eyes on her.
Why was he watching her so intently?
Perhaps he wanted a cooking lesson. She stifled a giggle at the idea. Having a Caldwell in their kitchen still seemed like a far-fetched dream. But wouldn’t it be fun to prepare a meal together here?
Thankfully, Ma wanted her to make the gravy and she focused her attention on something more solid than silly flights of imagination.
Billy set the table, each plate and piece of cutlery placed with precision.
“Excellent job,” Ma said, and Billy’s chest swelled three sizes.
When the meal was ready, they gathered around the table and formed a circle of clasped hands as Pa offered a grateful prayer for safety and plenty. Then they shared a comforting meal. How amazing that Duke fit so easily into their small quarters and informal ways. Her thoughts stung at how judgmental she sounded. Mr. Benson would be disappointed that Rose didn’t do more than learn the verse “Judge not, that ye be not judged.” God’s word was meant to be lived. Forgive me, God. I’m only trying to guard my heart. Guard it for me. I don’t want to have it ripped to shreds again.
When everyone had finished eating, Pa reached for his Bible. He turned to explain to Duke. “I read a portion every night. It’s been my habit since the day I married Mrs. Bell.”
Duke’s gaze caught Rose’s. She read his approval but caught a hint of something else that she again interpreted as longing. There was that word again. Why did she keep sensing it? Or was it her imagination run amok?
Pa opened the Bible. He often chose passages that he’d thought of during the day. She thought he might read about being hidden in the cleft of the rock, protected while the storm passed by.
“I’ve chosen Psalms, chapter 46. ‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.’” He read to the end of the chapter but Rose’s thoughts had stalled at that verse.
Did Pa sense that friendship with Duke would lead to trouble? Trouble so bad they’d have nowhere to go but God’s arms? A shiver snaked up her spine. Could he see an oncoming emotional storm with the same accuracy with which he’d forecast the snowstorm?
She dismissed the thought. Yet she knew Duke’s parents might not be as welcoming of a friendship with one of the Bell girls as Duke was. They, with their long line of history, and she with only the memory of that day on the prairie.
Pa held out his hands and the circle again formed as he prayed for safety for one and all in the storm. “And guide us safely through the storms of life, as well.”
Again Rose shivered. Was she blindly walking into a storm? Was it too late to stop the direction of her choice?
Her thoughts were cut short by Ma pushing her chair back from the table.
“Ma, you go sit down. I’ll do the dishes.” Rose quickly gathered up the dishes. When she reached for Duke’s, he waved her aside.
“I’ll help.”
She jerked back. Her heart skittered right past all her good intentions.
“Unless you object?” He wore a guarded look.
She realized that he might have interpreted her reaction as less than friendly—the reaction of a Bell toward a Caldwell. Enemies. But she didn’t see him as a foe. Not today. The knowledge made her nerves twitch. “I never refuse help with washing up.”
“Good to know.” His face lit up.
She knew her grin was wide and likely a little silly but she didn’t care. Being successful in erasing his wariness made her giddy.
“I’ll help, too. Or I could do them by myself,” Billy said, waiting at the cupboard.
Rose chuckled. “Billy, you’re so eager, someone might take advantage of you and let you do all the work.”
“I like doing dishes.”
Ma had retired to her chair. She watched the three in the kitchen. “Billy, I believe it’s because you know you do a good job.”
Billy nodded. “Nobody calls me stupid when I do dishes.”
His words silenced the room. The only sound came from the fire crackling in the stove and the storm rattling against the walls outside.
Ma broke the stunned stillness. “You are capable of doing many things well.”
Billy shook his head. “No, I’m not.”
Rose and Duke exchanged helpless looks. They both knew Billy had heard far too many cruel comments about his limitations.
“I believe otherwise,” Ma insisted. “So much so that I invite you to visit any time you can and I’ll teach you how to do different things. That’s all you need—someone to teach you. Once you’ve been shown how, you’ll see you are an excellent worker with a keen eye to detail.”
A plate hung from Billy’s hand. His jaw worked as if he fought tears and confusion.
Ma continued. “Look at how well you do the dishes and set the table. That’s how you’ll do every job you’re taught to do.”
“You’ll teach me?” The words sounded small, as if his throat had grown too tight.
“It would be my pleasure.”
“Mine, too,” Pa said.
Rose prepared the water and started washing dishes. She handed the first plate to Billy and he dried it.
“Your ma and pa don’t think I’m stupid.”
Rose wiped her hand on a towel and patted Billy’s arm. “Neither do I.”
Duke draped an arm across Billy’s shoulders and squeezed him close. “You’re just right the way you are.”
Billy beamed at all of them.
Rose ducked her head as a flood of emotions washed over her. Billy had found something here he needed. The same thing Rose and her sisters had found. Acceptance, encouragement and love.
Duke nudged her.
She sniffed before she lifted her eyes to him. At the answering emotion in his eyes, a great hand seemed to reach into her heart and squeeze it near to bursting.
In that moment she realized how much she liked him—Caldwell or not.
But Pa’s prayer at the end of the meal lingered in her mind. Guide us safely through the storms of life.
She would be foolish to walk out into the snowstorm and equally foolish to purposely create a storm in her life—in the life of the Bells.
Oh, God, give me wisdom and caution that I might not do anything foolish.
* * *
Duke would have gladly let the storm rage so he could stay sheltered with this family for the rest of the winter. He found Rose an enjoyable companion and her parents interesting and, at the same time, comforting. The way they’d taken Billy under their wings said so much about them.
If only his own parents had taken the time to get to know the Bells, this feud might never have happened.
In a few minutes the dishes were washed and put away.
Rose hung the damp towels and stood by the table, looking around as if uncertain what to do.
Duke’s jaw tensed. His presence put these people in an awkward position. Their house wasn’t big enough to accommodate two guests. He turned to stare
out the window. The darkness had deepened in the past hour but he didn’t need sight to know the storm persisted. The wind roared around the house. Wisps of snow blew in under the door.
He walked to the table. Couldn’t think why and returned to the window.
“Son, you won’t be going anywhere. The storm hasn’t let up and dark has descended.” Mr. Bell called him “son” in an affectionate tone.
Not “Douglas.” Not even “Duke.” Son. Duke didn’t dare look at anyone, not wanting them to see his surprise and pleasure.
Mr. Bell continued. “We haven’t much to offer but please stay for the duration of the storm.”
Duke studied the wood floor at his feet. Painted brown, it showed signs of wear in front of the cupboard. Signs of home and belonging.
Rose had turned to him but he kept his head down.
It wasn’t as though anyone would notice if he and Billy didn’t return to the ranch. Slowly he raised his head and encountered Rose’s fiery look. She’d misunderstood his hesitation.
He gave a weak smile hoping she’d let the imagined slight pass without accusing him of wanting to avoid the Bells. Especially when the truth was so different.
He turned to Mr. Bell. “Your hospitality is most generous and I accept. I hope you don’t find me an awkward houseguest.” He meant the last for Rose as much as anyone.
Both Mr. and Mrs. Bell waved away his protests.
“Not in the least, but you’ll have to make the best of it.” Mrs. Bell nodded toward the narrow cot along the wall. “That’s all we have for guests.”
“That’s fine.”
“Me and Duke sometimes sleep outside,” Billy said. “On the ground.”
Duke chuckled. Seemed Billy felt the necessity of pointing out Duke did not require a down-filled mattress and silk sheets to be comfortable.
“The cot will be warmer than sleeping outside on the ground,” Rose said.
Duke couldn’t tell if she was relieved he knew how to rough it or if she meant to point out the advantages of sharing the Bell quarters. He fixed her with unblinking consideration. “We’ll be warm and safe and comfortable, thanks to the Bells.”
Their gazes silently dueled for three seconds, then she relented. “Yes, you will.” She went to the cupboard next to the cot and moved several items. She set aside a leather-bound notebook.
