The teakettle whistled and she poured the steaming water into a sturdy mug. She settled into an oversized chair in the front room and drank the tea while reading a book on English history. A shadow crossed the window and she looked across the room following the movement. Her heart skipped when a thump sounded against the door. Clutching the book to her chest, she sat frozen, her eyes glued to the door.
"Nora?" Mitch called from the other side. "Open the door, I brought the pie tins."
Nora jumped to her feet and unlocked the door to a tower of pie tins in Mitch's arms. "Why in the world did you bring them here? We'll only have to take them over to the house in the next couple of days."
Mitch struggled to find a place to set the tins down so Nora took pity on him and lifted some from the top to place on her small kitchen table. When her brother attempted to lower the rest, half of them fell to the floor with a clatter of bangs and pings.
"Why did you bring them here?" Nora asked again. "Mitch?" She tapped her foot not moving to pick up any of the tins. "Answer me."
"I thought I should take care of it now. That's all."
A bark of laughter erupted and Nora shook her head. "You're hiding from someone aren't you?"
At least he had the decency to look chagrined. "Yeah, Olivia. I sent her a note that I could not call tonight, too busy helping with these." He picked up a pie pan and placed it on the stack on the table. "Walking here, I had to cross in front of their house. I'll take them to the house tomorrow."
"Come sit, I'll make you some tea." Nora pushed him toward the front room. "You have to tell me how you plan to fend off Mother when she asks about it. Because I guarantee you, Olivia's mother will report this."
"Darn it, you're right," Mitch said before slumping against the doorjamb. "I don't need any tea, thank you."
Fists on her hips, Nora leaned forward, her eyes meeting Mitch's. "You're going to the saloon aren't you? Mitch, I worry about you, I really do."
"And I'll consider it while I drink a whiskey." He tapped the brim of his hat and sauntered through the doorway. "Good night, sister." The door closed firmly behind him.
With a huff Nora wandered back to the front room; she picked up the book again, but could not bring herself to read. Mitch drank too much, she'd actually been glad to hear that he was distracted from the saloon by visiting with Olivia Dougherty, but now it seemed he was avoiding the poor girl and back to drinking with his friends.
Since the night they’d both rather forget, he'd been different. Although still the caring brother she'd always loved, his nature seemed darker almost self-destructive at times. If only she could take away the guilt he felt at not being able to stop the man from hurting her.
Chapter Two
From the front port of their expansive two-story cabin, Elizabeth Cole had the perfect view of the entire area planned for the fall festival activities. "Grayson, place more chairs around those two tables on the end," his mother commanded using a broomstick to point with. She looked to his older brother. "Ashley, help your brother."
A chair in each hand, Grayson hurried toward the tables to place them where his mother instructed. With an additional set of chairs, Ashley caught up with him grumbling, "I think my sergeant could have taken lessons from Ma."
"The cavalry could use Ma that's for sure," Grayson replied with a smile. One of the chairs collided with his shin and he grunted. "Seems to me this shindig gets bigger every year."
"Yeah," Ashley replied and rushed back to get another set of chairs.
Grayson followed him only to stop when his twin brother, Bronson, let out a loud yowl and jumped to his feet to hop in a circle with his left hand cradled against his stomach. "Dang nab it!" He and their father Hank were to the left of the house, hammering planks of wood to form what would be a stand for the musicians.
Their father watched Bronson for a moment and then got up from where he was hammering and went to him. "Let me see, son."
Bronson held out his hand. "I busted my thumb. It'll be all right just need to wait a few minutes so I can see straight."
They'd been working on the stage since dawn. Grayson neared and waited for Bronson to look his way. "I can finish up, why don't you go see about gettin' that finger wrapped. Looks pretty bad."
Matching blue eyes met his for a moment, with dirt streaked across his flushed face, he reminded Grayson of the twelve-year-old version of his now twenty-eight-year-old brother Bronson. "Yeah, I suppose I better go and see if Ma will wrap it for me."
"Bronson!" their mother called from the porch. "Get over here and let me look at that finger."
"How does she do that?" Grayson asked no one in particular. "It's amazing that she can see this far."
"Grayson, stop talking and let your brother come here. Hank, drink some water, it's too hot for you to be out there for this long without drinking."
With a chuckle his father went to do as she bid and Grayson picked up the hammer.
He'd finished nailing the last of the planks of wood when his father returned from drinking water and whatever other things his mother had him do. "Good job, son. Looks like we're done and ready for the festivities tomorrow brings."
"I heard several families from Roswell County are coming. You sure we'll have enough seating?" Grayson took a mug of water his father offered and drank deeply. "It's a lot of people."
"They can picnic, plenty of land here for that. Your mother is hoping some young lady catches you or one of your brothers’ attention. She's ready for you boys to settle down." He sat next to him on the newly built deck and looked back toward the open land. "Got to start building another house for when Bronson decides to start a family of his own. Your house is still in good condition, waiting for a family too."
Heaviness pressed at his chest and Grayson pushed it away. It was easier to do now, although it was hard to picture anyone in that kitchen other than Sophia. At Grayson's stoic expression, his father nudged his shoulder. "It's time to move on, Gray, time to live your life. Bronson too, not sure why that boy hasn't married yet?"
"Yeah, he's probably got his heart set on someone in particular knowing him."
They did not bring up Ashley. No woman in the neighboring towns would be interested in the loner. There were too many rumors circulating about the mostly silent man, which made people nervous.
Since he'd returned after being discharged from the cavalry for undisclosed reasons, speculation about what actually happened spread throughout Alder Gulch. There was talk he'd lost his mind in battle and killed a fellow soldier. Gossip abounded about Ashley being unstable and it held since his brother refused to talk to anyone outside the family.
Yes he'd returned changed and although he refused to speak of what happened to him, around the family he was relatively the same. The biggest changes were a scar across his jawline and Ashley's nightmares, which came often. In his terror, his screams woke the entire family until one day he moved to the bunkhouse where he now lived.
His father let out a breath and pointed toward the porch where his mother was pulling Bronson into a chair and wrapping a cloth around his neck and shoulders. "Hair cuttin' time."
"I don't need a haircut," Grayson raked his fingers through long wavy hair and got to his feet. "I'll be in the barn, Pa. Tell Ma I don't want a haircut."
"Right."
Half an hour later, Grayson sat in the chair on the porch. "Ow, Ma, that hurts, you don't have to pull the comb so hard though my hair." Feeling like a child, he grimaced in silence when she yanked the offensive item through again.
"If you quit fidgeting, it wouldn't have gotten so darn tangled. Honestly, Gray, your hair is down to here." She pushed a finger into the center of his shoulder blades. "How did we ever let it get so long?"
She continued combing through it, not one snip of her scissors sounded. "It's so beautiful, the color of chestnuts."
He looked over his shoulder and smiled up at her. "You say that every time and then don't cut but a bit." He drew his brows toget
her. " Why do you cut Bronson's hair short and not mine?"
"For a long time, because it was easier to tell you two apart from a distance." She chuckled. "Your father used to get so mad at me. He said I was trying to make you a girl since we didn't have one. Was always threatening to take you to the barber shop in town." She ran her fingers through his hair and Grayson smiled at her hesitation to cut his too long mane. "Now I suppose it's because I just got used to you always having longer hair."
"I'm all right with it being long, Ma. I don't mind."
Her wide smile lightened his heart. "I'm glad to hear it, son. I'll trim it just a little then."
That evening Ashley strummed the guitar on the front porch, while Grayson and Bronson took turns throwing a lasso around a pole they'd planted in the ground. Bronson's newly sheared hair fell across his brow when he leaned forward to pull his rope from around the beam. "I hear there are some pretty girls over in Roswell County." He gave Grayson an expectant look. "Maybe you and ol' Ashley will get motivated and find a wife."
Ashley stopped strumming and glowered at Bronson's back. "What?"
"What about you?" Grayson replied ignoring Ashley. "You have someone in mind?"
Bronson slid his eyes to the left, a sure sign he was about to lie. "Nope, keeping my options open."
"Well I for one am not planning on getting tied down any time soon. Tried it once. Lookin' forward to the pretty women comin' though."
"You are one step ahead of us then," Bronson replied and tossed the rope without even looking at the stump. He missed.
"I think you got someone in mind," Grayson told his twin and watched for a reaction.
"I don't," Bronson replied after sliding his eyes to the side. " I'm not interested in marrying any time soon either, so Ma’s going to be mad at us."
Grayson wrapped the rope around his elbow. "I'm going inside, we got an early day tomorrow."
"What about you, Ashley?" Bronson’s the only one who dared asked the sullen brother such a question. Ashley pointedly ignored him.
"Ashley, I'm talkin' to you," Bronson repeated and threw the rope at his older brother's boot and then pulled on his leg.
Ashley frowned and yanked his leg back. "Women avoid me like the plague, so you figure it out."
"Maybe if you let your hair grow like Gray, then they'll chase you like they do him."
Scowl in place, Ashley studied Grayson. "Yeah, right. They probably think he's a woman in disguise."
Grayson laughed. "Only 'til they catch me."
"Boys!" their mother called from the kitchen. "Anyone want coffeecake?"
"Yes, ma'am," they replied in unison.
Chapter Three
It was hard to ignore the lush expanse of the open ranch lands framed by a backdrop of the mountains and a clear blue sky. Their over-laden wagon rocked in a steady rhythm as the horses traversed the smooth trail. The day was bright, still early morning yet it felt late to Nora. Up since dawn to bake the last of the pies, exhaustion settled into her shoulders. Even the short nap on the ride from town out to the edge of the Cole's ranch lands did little to help.
"Oh goodness, look at all the people." Her mother bounced in the backbench seat with excitement. "I can't wait to hear the new fiddler you've been talking so much about," she told her husband who smiled in return at her enthusiasm.
Nora glanced to Mitch who sat on the bench next to her, guiding the horses. "It's a perfect day for the festival, sunny, but not too warm." She looked across the expanse of Cole's ranch and inhaled the fresh air. Several chestnut horses grazed in the corrals, their tails swishing back and forth. Farther across, she spotted a large herd of brown spotted cows, some grazing, some laying in the shade, seeming to enjoy the fresh morning.
People milled about the already set up picnic area and she admired the huge farmhouse; the two story proud structure was remarkable. With rounded archways a long front porch held several rocking chairs, most had people sitting in them. The log home's enormous front door was open giving the impression everyone was welcome to enter.
Nora had only been inside the Cole's home once, when Elizabeth Cole, the matron, invited the townswomen for an afternoon tea. Nora had been invited several times after, but could never attend since she taught class every day until late afternoon.
A tall muscular man appeared at the doorway and leaned against the jamb. Hat in hand, he looked at ease. His head turned from side to side as he scanned the area, overlooking his family's land. Grayson Cole.
Nora squinted to get a better look at him. His hair was shorter than the last time she'd spotted him in town, but still longer than most men's. Touching his shoulders, the burnished waves blew away from his face. From this distance, she could not make out his eyes, but she knew them to be bright blue, an eye color she'd never seen until meeting the Cole twins. Although Grayson and Bronson were almost identical, it was Grayson who stole her breath every time she saw him. Just a bit broader at the shoulders than his twin, he was also the more easy-going of the two. Unlike his brothers, Grayson was a ladies man. Every time she'd seen him in town, a different woman hung on his arm. Although known for his rakish ways, he never suffered for companionship, one woman after another hoping to be the one to tame the handsome male.
Her brother brought the wagon closer to where a large tent was erected under which long picnic tables were set, some already brimming with offerings. Nora continued to watch Grayson soaking in the rare moment of him standing still and rarer yet alone.
As if sensing her regard, his sharp gaze met hers, and Nora felt her cheeks heat. He lifted his hand in greeting towards them and Mitch waved in return.
"Hello, Bronson," her mother's breathless voice tore Nora's attention from Grayson to notice that Bronson approached the wagon. He looked up at her and offered his hand to assist her down.
The warmth in Bronson's brilliant blue eyes was hard to ignore, Nora forced a soft smile and accepted his help. "Nice to see you, Nora." Bronson's deep voice and heated regard made her flush. "You look very nice today."
"Thank you," she murmured turning to grab her small satchel. When she looked again, Bronson had gone to the back of the wagon to help unload the pies.
Nora waited until they headed toward the tent with the first large tray before she went to the back of the wagon to get a couple pies to carry. When she turned and took a step, she ran into Grayson's firm chest almost dropping a pie. "Oh! I apologize, Grayson, I didn't see you."
Deep blue eyes regarded her, he didn't reply and Nora lifted her eyebrows. "It's customary to accept an apology."
"It is, isn't it," Grayson replied, a corner of his lips lifted in mocking. "It's also customary to look where you're going before walking, to make sure you are not about to trample someone."
"What?" Nora could only gawk at the rude man. "I did not come close to trampling you."
He shrugged and leaned over back of the wagon. His wide back strained when he lifted an entire tray of pies. Nora gritted her teeth together in frustration of not being able to tear her eyes from admiring him.
"Blasted man."
"Who are you talking about, dear?" Her mother touched her elbow, her sharp gaze taking in Grayson. "Ah yes, he can be bothersome. It's a wonder they were able to get him married off the one time."
At the mention of Grayson's disastrous marriage, Nora's eyes flew back to him. Hopefully he didn't hear her mother. "Mother, keep your voice down."
"I ensured no one heard me," her mother whispered and pulled her forward. "Let me take one of these. The men can get the rest." Her mother took one of the pies from her and prompted her to walk with her.
"Whatever happened to his wife?" Nora asked following her mother away from the food tent a few minutes later.
"Oh goodness, the poor thing." Her mother looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was close. "It was horrible, seems her horse was spooked and she fell off, but her foot got caught in the stirrup. The horse dragged her to death. Only two weeks after getting married."
Her mother shook her head. "That boy was heartbroken, hasn't been the same since."
Nora stopped walking. Too stunned, she held her hand over her mouth. She could only imagine the horror the poor woman went through. Her heart broke for Grayson at losing his young wife so soon after marrying.
"Are you all right?” Bronson came up behind her and she inhaled sharply.
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you. Just a bit tired from the ride out here. Mother and I were up late baking." She slipped her hand through his proffered arm. "Your mother has outdone herself, everything looks perfect."
The handsome man chuckled. "Yes, she has kept us busy for the last two weeks in preparation." His eyes met hers and she fought not to look away at seeing the matching shade of blue to Grayson's. "Save me a dance later, please." His quiet request made her soften and she could only nod.
"Well, I better go see about the newcomers," Bronson told her turning to head toward two wagonloads of people who arrived.
Her father found a free area under a small tree and the family spread a blanket and settled for the day. Her mother, always prepared, brought two thick pillows and her sewing basket. Nora leaned on one of the pillows, her elbow sinking into it and soaked in the atmosphere, it was definitely a well-attended event.
She caught sight of Hank and Elizabeth Cole who walked from table to table, welcoming guests. Tall and broad shouldered like his sons, with grey intermingling through his light brown hair, Hank Cole remained an attractive man. His wife murmured something to him and his lips curved in response, his warm gaze taking her in. Elizabeth Cole was of medium build with golden brown hair that she wore in a long braid down her back. Together they made a stunning couple.
A Different Shade of Blue, Shades of Blue, Book 2 Page 2
