Big Sky Homecoming

Ma and Pa Bell had found the three of them on the prairie when Cora was five and the twins only three. The girls could remember their papa riding away in a wagon with a promise to return, but two days and a night later, he had not. The Bells had taken the girls home and when no birth parents could be located, they’d adopted them. Not everyone approved. Not everyone thought the girls belonged in the community.

When she was about eight, Rose was in the store with her sisters and Ma. She had wandered down the aisles, fascinated by the display of the many colors of embroidery threads. Two women were in there, as well, and one had said to the other, “I wonder what the Bells have gotten themselves into. Taking in orphans like those girls. Who knows what sort of family they came from? I tell you, there’s something wrong with people who would abandon their children, and goodness knows how those traits are passed down to their offspring. Mark my words, you’ll see that mental weakness come to light soon enough.”

Then a teacher in school had made a point of calling the girls “adopted” at every opportunity. As if it marked them in a special—but not good—way.

All of that she could have overlooked if it hadn’t been for her unhappy experience with George Olsen. She’d thought him kind; a gentleman who’d eagerly accompanied her on walks about town.

But his mother had put an end to that. “We know nothing of their background. It’s important to think about that when you court a girl. You never know what kind of family you are getting involved with in Rose’s case. What kind of bloodlines does she carry? No, it’s better that you know what you’re getting into.” Mrs. Olsen had been unaware that Rose had seen and heard every word.

Rose had turned and fled. Her sisters and parents had persuaded her to tell them why she’d been so upset. Ma had hugged her and assured her the only background she needed was to know she was loved. “You are my sweet Red Rose. A young woman with determination in her veins. Rose, my dear, you will someday thank God for giving you your strong nature.”

After that, Rose had forsaken any idea of finding a beau. But she had not thanked God for her strong nature. Or her red hair.

Cora and Lilly had found men who were willing to overlook their lack of background.

Rose did not expect to be so fortunate.

Especially with someone the likes of Duke Caldwell...

She pressed her hand to her forehead. Where did such foolish thoughts come from?

Duke watched her with steady eyes filled with concern. “We can’t leave her here.”

He’d mistaken her despair for concern for the sheep, not concern for her own security. She knew where caring about a man would lead. Especially a Caldwell.

Not that she cared about Duke. Not in the least. Never had. Never would.

She started to pull the wool from the snow, strand by strand.

Billy murmured comfort to the sheep and Duke worked by Rose’s side, following her example. His hands were sure and gentle. He seemed not a bit put out to be helping a sheep even though he was a cattleman and they hated sheep. How many times had she overheard remarks in town? “Woolies destroy the grass. They eat it to the roots. It never grows back.”

She could have told the cowboys they were wrong, but knew there was no point. People believed what they chose to believe.

But Duke acted as though the ewe was no different than a cow or a horse. Or maybe he didn’t care what others thought of sheep.

It must be sweet to be so sure of oneself.

“This is Lilly’s first ewe. She calls her Mammy. Mammy will come when Lilly calls her.” She couldn’t stop talking. “But she won’t come when I call her. You wouldn’t think it would make a difference, would you?”

“I hear Lilly is married now.”

“And Cora, too. Cora and Wyatt and his brother, Lonny, are on Jack Henry’s ranch. You remember Jack Henry?”

“Yup.” He continued loosening wool and she continued her endless chatter.

“Lilly married Caleb. He has a little son, Teddy. They’re in town for now, though Caleb says he’ll be getting his own ranch come spring. Right now they want to be in town so Teddy can go to school. He couldn’t walk for a while.”

“That so?”

“It is.” And as suddenly as the burst of words had come, they ended. She couldn’t think of a thing to say.

They had Mammy’s wool loosened on one side and together they moved to the other.

A couple of minutes later Duke straightened and stuck his hands on his hips.

She grinned to herself and ducked her head. His stance should look powerful but with snow up to his knees it only looked as if he might lose his balance.

“What next?” he asked.

She waded out of the snowbank and turned to call, “Mammy, come, Mammy.”

Mammy bleated but made no effort to move.

Rose jammed her hands into fists. “Why will you come when Lilly calls you and refuse to come when I do?”

Billy hugged the sheep around her neck. “It’s okay. She’s not mad at you.” He backed up. “Come on, Mammy. You don’t want to stay here. The snow is cold.” As he backed toward Rose, Mammy followed.

“Good job. How did you do that?” Rose asked Billy, so pleased to see Mammy out of the snowbank she could have hugged the young man.

Duke chuckled. “Billy gets along well with animals.”

Billy beamed at Duke’s praise, then turned to Rose. “Where do you want her?”

She led him to the sheep pen and Mammy followed, bleating happily to be back inside.

Rose turned to contemplate the other animals. “Now, if only they would come as easily.” Then realizing it sounded as though she meant to ask them to help, she smiled at Billy. “Thanks for your help.” She turned to Duke. Her breath stuck halfway up her throat at his wide smile and flashing eyes. Must he look so handsome? So happy? So appealing?

“Thanks for your help, as well.” She managed to squeak the words out.

“Thank me when we’re done.” He held her gaze a moment, then turned toward the other milling sheep. “Billy, do you suppose you could call them in?”

“I’ll try... Come, sheepie. Come.”

A couple trotted toward him but the rest acted as though they couldn’t hear.

“Stupid sheep,” Rose muttered as she marched around the furthest one—the headstrong ram—hoping to head it in the right direction. Of course it ran the opposite way.

Duke ran around the animal, waving his arms. “Shoo. Shoo.”

The sheep skidded to a halt and looked around for a way of escape.

“Shoo. I said shoo.” He jerked his hands toward the sheep.

The sheep baaed and lowered his head. Should she warn him about how the ram reacted to being chased?

But before she could, Duke jumped toward the ram. She stared at the way the animal backed up, still bleating his protest. He turned tail and trotted toward the pen, never once losing his voice.

Duke hurried after the ram. “Shoo. Shoo.”