A Different Shade of Blue, Shades of Blue, Book 2 Read online

  Hildie McQueen

  A Different Shade of Blue

  Pink Door Publishing, Augusta, Georgia 2013

  A Different Shade of Blue

  Shades of Blue Trilogy (Book 1)

  Hildie McQueen

  Pink Door Publishing

  Cover Artist: Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

  Editor: Tina Winograd

  Copyright Hildie McQueen 2013

  ISBN: 978-1-939356-09-3

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader.

  If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your retailer and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Other Works by Hildie McQueen

  (In reading order)

  Brides of Colter Valley

  The Widow's Choice

  Christmas in Colter Valley*

  Sunrise in Colter Valley*

  Sunset in Colter Valley*

  Twilight in Colter Valley*

  Nightfall in Colter Valley*

  Heading West Series, Western Historical

  Where the Four Winds Collide

  Westbound Awakening

  Where the River Flows*

  Historical Western, Shades of Blue Series

  Big Sky Blue

  A Different Shade of Blue

  The Darkest Blue

  Every Blue Moon

  Blue Horizon

  Montana Blue

  Midnight Blue

  The McDougalls, Highland Historical Novellas

  Highlander's Captive

  Seducing Her Laird

  Enticing Her Highlander

  Ravished by the Laird

  In the Warrior's Arms

  Moriag Series, Highland Historical Novellas

  Beauty and the Highlander

  The Lass and the Laird

  Lady and the Scot

  The Laird's Daughter

  *Not published as if the publication

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Tina Winograd, my editor, who not only edits my work, but also helps make them come to life. Tina, you took A Different Shade of Blue from good to amazing! You are invaluable to me.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Prologue

  Alder Gulch, Montana 1865

  Grayson's knees sunk into the fresh damp soil as he fell forward onto his hands with his head hanging between unsteady arms. The skies rained on his back, the soft drizzle mocking his tears. Sobs racked his lungs until he could not catch a breath, each wail followed by another. The pain that cut deep into his chest squeezed so hard he wondered if death would come and claim him too. It would be a welcome reprise to the agony of losing his Sophia, to the relentless presence of absolute sorrow that encompassed him for the last three days.

  Sophia was dead, he understood this on some level, but he could not stop the persistent expectation that she'd materialize, walk up to him and be puzzled by his sadness. Any minute, she'd arrive and in her sweet way tease him. "Whatever is the matter with you, dear? Look at me, I am fine."

  Impossible. He'd never hear the musical sound of her voice, nor feel her soft touch again. His wife of only two weeks was dead and it could not be changed.

  "Come on, son. Let's go back to the house, your mother will worry." His father's deep tones penetrated through the fog that circled his head, but Grayson did not budge. Instead he shrugged out from under the heavy palm on his shoulder.

  "No. Leave me. Please." His voice was hoarse from hours of grief. The fact his sorrow pained his parents did not matter to him in the least. If ever there was a time for him to be selfish, this was it.

  Hank Cole sank onto the dirt next to him and Grayson turned his tear-streaked face away. It proved unfortunate when a small bunch of wilted flowers caught his eye. Blue Astor, Sophia liked them, kept them in a cup on their night table.

  With a loud groan, Grayson threw himself onto the grave and began to pound his fists into the dirt. "No! No! Oh God. Why?"

  He didn't know how much time passed with him lying on the dirt crying, not accepting the truth, his face caked in the mud a mixture of earth and tears.

  The sun descended and temperatures cooled. Sophia did not care for the dark, and now she lay under the mound of dirt in the blackness. Every night she'd be out here alone.

  "I'll stay out here tonight, Pa," Grayson spoke for the first time in hours, his voice more like a croak.

  "No, you will not. Grayson get up. You have to let her rest." The angry edge to his father's voice snapped him out of the haze and he began to shake uncontrollably.

  "Too soon...I can't leave her out here alone. Don't you understand?"

  "You know I do," his father's quiet reply made him squeeze his swollen eyes shut.

  "I'm sorry, Pa."

  "Don't apologize. My mother was old and it was time for her to pass. I understand. This is different. Young people are not supposed to die. A young bride is not supposed to be snatched from her husband after only two weeks. It's not right."

  Grayson lifted his gaze to his father. "What am I going to do?" Pain tore a fiery path across his lungs and breathing became labored. Steady thick arms surrounded him and he allowed himself to collapse against his father's sturdy frame. Not able to stop them, once again the endless tears poured.

  "Just what you're doing. Son, mourn her loss and cry. A little less every day until you're done."

  The sun set below the horizon and his father remained until late into the night. Holding him while Grayson attempted to accept that his wife was gone. Torn from him by a careless, faceless death.

  Chapter One

  Five Years Later.

  The dark paneled walls of their dining room did little to help the dimness of the lanterns strategically placed on the sideboard and center of the table. The thick draperies allowed for a precious few rays of the outdoor light to trickle in. Nora Banks ate the flavorful stew attempting to ignore her mother's pointed look. Her father at the head of the table ate without looking up, while her brother Mitch sat at across from her, his spoon moving nonstop from his mouth to the bowl.

  The topic of conversation, most uncomfortable for everyone, except the matron who exhaled loudly and continued on with her familiar repertoire. "I'll never see the sweet face of my grandchildren. Much longer and I'll have one foot in the grave if ever they are to be born. Honestly I don't understand what you two have against marriage and family life
."

  Her father patted his wife's hand and attempted to change the topic. "There, there, dear. Did I tell you the yellow calico you've been waiting for finally arrived?" As always her father steered the conversation to their mercantile business.

  Ignoring her husband, Carolyn Banks continued unabated. "So it seems that Lily Peters is expecting her second child. Lord she's only been married a bit over two years. Her mother is proud as a peacock of course. It was all she spoke about at our quilting guild meeting. This is her third grandchild as you all know, her oldest boy and his wife have a beautiful little girl."

  Nora's older brother Mitch rolled his eyes before meeting hers and she bit back the urge to smile at him. Neither Mitch nor she had married as yet, much to their mother's mortification. "Nora, are you listening to me?"

  "Yes of course, Mother. Lily. Baby. Marriage."

  "Do not make light of this, Nora Elaine Banks. It's a most serious matter. Do you want to remain a single spinster living alone in that tiny cottage of yours? No, I don't think so, but at almost twenty-six, it's silly to wait any longer. Another couple of years and you won't be able to have children. Is that what you want?"

  Nora pulled at the bell sleeves of her simple blue calico schoolmarm frock. The lace on the end of the sleeve needed replacing, but she didn't dare bring it to her mother's attention, she'd be lectured about her preferring to teach, than to remain home and learn the finer arts needed of a wife.

  "No, Mother, it is not what I want. But I cannot force a man to marry me." Nora kept her voice even and peeked from under her lashes to see if her mother was convinced.

  Her mother's wide eyes took her in. "What? Goodness, of course you cannot force a man to marry you. However, you have options, young lady. For goodness sakes, if you'd just accept Bronson Cole's courtship. The boy has gone so far as to speak to your father and ask for permission to court you with intentions of marriage. Why won't you accept him?"

  Nora kept her eyes on her plate. Her mother's question was not an easy one to answer. The reason for her aversion to a courtship with Bronson Cole was something she could not explain. Not to her parents. And not to Bronson. No, she couldn't disclose the truth to anyone, ever.

  "This pie is delicious," Mitch spoke up and Nora shot him a thankful look. "Can I have another slice, Mother?"

  "No, Mitchell, you may not have any more pie. You too are almost past age to marry. What in the world is keeping you from seeking Olivia Dougherty as a wife? Her mother told me you've called on her more than once this week."

  A strangle noise rose from Mitch's throat followed by hard coughing. He turned a dreadful shade of red while his eyes bulged from the exertion. Nora jumped from her chair and rounded her brother. Her palm flat, she slapped his back in quick succession until he stopped hacking.

  Her father, ever patient, took his wife's hands in his and stood. "Let's go out for some air, dear, you're becoming very upset. Come, I'll sit with you on the front porch." The rustling of her mother's skirts followed by the scraping of the chair against the wooden floor preceded her father helping his wife up. Hand in hand they walked out, but not before their mother shot a look over her shoulder at them. The matter was definitely not over.

  Mitch reached for the pie plate and scooped the last slice onto his plate. "Perhaps you should consider Mother's advice, Nora."

  The light from the lantern on the table threw shadows at her brother's face when he leaned forward and speared a large piece of pie onto his fork and ate it. A smile curved her lips and she reached for his plate, slid it closer and plunged her fork into the crust. Lifting the trophy to her mouth, she watched Mitch follow his lost prize closely. "I cannot marry Bronson Cole, you know that better than anyone. I can never marry, not without having to divulge my secret." A sudden shudder went through her and she exhaled meeting Mitch's concerned-filled eyes.

  "I understand your hesitation, Nora, believe me. But a good man understands more than you think."

  "What man will want a woman like me, Mitch?"

  Pain etched Mitch's face at the reminder of the incident, which has haunted them both for years. He let out a breath and then looked away from her toward the front door.

  "I'm sorry, Mitch, please let's not talk about it. It was wrong of me to bring it up."

  "I failed you. I couldn't save you."

  Nora covered his hand with hers. "You tried, he caught us by surprise and was so much larger and stronger than you. Now stop it. I love you so much for what you did for me that night." A picture formed in her mind of the moonlit night and her brother bloodied and beaten lying on the ground. "Whenever I think of that night, it's not only the horror of the attack that gives me nightmares as much as the sight of you lying there lifeless, in the rain. I was sure he'd killed you."

  "Nevertheless it's time for you to move on. I want you to be happy." Mitch attempted a weak smile. "Bronson Cole is a good man."

  "Yes he is," Nora replied and pushed from the table. "But not the man for me, brother."

  "Nora..."

  "What about Olivia? You went out with her more than once this week?" She lifted an eyebrow at her brother. "Obviously her mother thinks you are courting her."

  Mitch shrugged. "I need to get settled first before marrying. Have a house, and some sort of life separate from the mercantile. Right now I don't have anything to call my own. I'm not prepared to offer for anyone's hand."

  "Bah!" Nora came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders pressing her cheek to his hair. "You are not willing to sacrifice your life of leisure. That is what the truth is." She kissed the top of his head. "One of these days one of the women you lead on will trap you and I'm going to dance a jig at your wedding."

  Mitch shook his head and laughed. "Not anytime soon, sister."

  Nora sighed. "Poor Mother, it seems she will be repeating today's lecture for many more nights. Dinner will not be complete without questions about our progress into marriage territory." She picked up the empty plates and carried them through the wide-open doorway to the kitchen.

  After scraping the food into a waste bucket, she put them into a small tub of hot soapy water. "I am not looking forward to the harvest picnic at the Cole's ranch next week. Mother will be in full matchmaker mode."

  "I, on the other hand, am looking forward to it," Mitch replied from the table. "So many beautiful women gathered in one place." He rubbed his hands together.

  "Ah, a wolf into a herd of unsuspecting sheep."

  "Not so unsuspecting, sister," he quipped.

  "Oh, and the pie-making starts. Mother is already getting the ingredients together." Nora made a face, wrinkling her nose. "I don't think it’s fair that you don't have to help Mother make all the pies, the number of pies she decides to bring grows larger every year."

  "Loading and unloading them is hard work as well. Plus I do help. I bring the sacks of flour from the store, pie tins..." Mitch placed his gun holster around his waist as he spoke and reaching for his hat, his handsome face scrunched in thought. "Come to think of it. I need to check in the shed out behind the store for the crate of pie tins." Standing over six feet, her brother resembled her so much that people often asked if they were twins. With chestnut hair, honey brown eyes and full lips, the only difference between them was his strong jawline compared to her softer, pointier chin. "I will see you tomorrow, sister."

  His spurs clanked onto the hardwood floors as he made his way to the door. Nora turned back to the dishes. "Mitch, you promised to help clean up."

  She swung around at the sound of the door closing behind him. "Scoundrel." Left alone, she made quick work of the cleanup. Her mind wandered to Bronson Cole. She'd find him and find a good excuse to explain her lack of interest in a relationship with him. With a final critical scan of the now clean kitchen, Nora pulled her shawl on over her shoulders.

  "Are you leaving so soon?" Her mother looked up from her rocker on the porch when she exited the house. "We haven't had our coffee yet."

  Nora ey
ed the sky, it would be dark soon and although her house was not far, less than a ten minute walk, she preferred not to be out after dark. "Sorry, Mother, I should head home. I have lesson plans to look over." Her mother accepted a hug goodbye and then she kissed her father's jaw. She was finally free to head to her cottage next to the town's schoolhouse.

  The tiny wooden dwelling welcomed her; the sweet fragrances of lavender and rosemary greeted once she entered the airy space. It turned out to be a great idea to dry herbs in her small kitchen; they kept the house smelling great.

  Nora removed the shawl from her shoulders and folded it before placing it over the back of a chair. It was early yet, too soon for her to go to bed, she went to the kitchen and placed a teakettle on the stove. The silence soothed the troubles of the day. The fatigue of tending to the classroom and helping at the mercantile faded in her quiet aromatic home.

  Although her mother had balked and even attempted to forbid her from moving out of the family's house, she was glad now to have stood her ground. The position of schoolteacher included the small yet attractive cottage and Nora seized the opportunity to realize her need for independence.

  As soon as she realized marriage was not in her future, Nora set about a new vision for what her life would be. This was part of her new dream. Attaining a career and not having to rely on her parents for her entire life was the perfect solution for a woman who would not marry. Besides the farther from her mother, the easier to keep her secret of why she couldn't accept Bronson's proposal. A husband and children, of course she longed for that, and maybe one day she'd meet a man willing to overlook her predicament. One day she'd have the courage to divulge it to the right person, but the thought of sharing what had happened to her made Nora sick to her stomach.