"You gonna play or stare out the window all day?" Glenn Walters, his gambling associate, grumbled. "Maybe you hopin' someone come help you with ya game?" He placed two pairs, queens high on the table. "'spose they didn't make it." The man chuckled when Mitch threw his cards down. It was a mistake not to pay attention when playing Walters, the man cheated any chance he got.
"What's got you so interested in what's going on out there?" Matthew Corson, his childhood friend, asked looking past him through the window. His eyes slid to Walters. "You might as well not play unless you just want to give more money away."
Before cards were dealt, Mitch stood and moved closer to the bar. He leaned over and watched the bartender pour whiskey into two glasses. An old gold miner picked up one of the glasses and swallowed greedily. The bartender slid the other one to Mitch.
Watching the bleary eyed miner put the glass down and his head to fall forward until it rested on his chest, Mitch wondered if that would be him in the next few years. After all, he spent more time in the saloon than anywhere else.
Most mornings he spent helping his father at the mercantile, in the afternoons he had little to do. Some days he'd clean the store and take inventory, most of the time, his parents took care of everything. Too much time, most would not complain of such a thing, but the last thing he needed was idle time. His mind would inevitably go to his sister's attack the night, ten years earlier, when he'd insisted Nora go to a barn dance with him and they'd met the stranger on the ride home.
The stranger, a man who was about his age now, had stood by the side of the road. When they'd stopped to inquire if he needed help, he'd seen that both were young and too dumb to suspect he was dangerous. If only he'd paid more heed to the tingle at the back of his neck when the man's gaze lingered on Nora. Instead when the man asked for him to help him see about his horse's leg, he readily dismounted. A quick hit with the butt of his gun and Mitch had fallen like a log. He didn't remember the hits that came after, Nora said he attempted to fight back, but he'd barely held on before blacking out.
And Nora, instead of running had remained, too scared to leave him. When he'd come to, he'd found his poor sister a few yards away in the woods.
"Another one, Mitch?" The bartender was already pouring a fresh drink, which he picked up and carried towards the window.
When Olivia emerged from the hotel, he locked on the sight of her. If ever there was a woman he'd gladly spend his life with, it was Olivia Dougherty. Time flew whenever he'd taken her on rides. Lost in her husky voice and soft laughter, he could spend endless hours listening to her talk. If only he could allow himself the luxury of a relationship. No, not until Nora was settled, would he consider a separate life of his own. His sister needed someone to look out of her. He'd failed her once and that was more than enough to propel him to watch over her, even if it was a lifetime.
Perhaps if things worked out between Grayson Cole and Nora, then he could think about courting Olivia. Just then movement caught his eye, and his gut clenched. Grayson Cole neared Olivia's group and they began to talk. Ire filled Mitch at seeing Olivia throw her head back and laugh at something the cad said. Mitch moved to the door to get a closer look. Grayson's hand reached for Olivia, he seemed to be offering to walk with her.
How dare the man not only openly flirt with Olivia, but at the same time disrespect his sister in such a manner? He must have growled out loud because Matthew came up beside him. "Somethin' wrong?"
Husky laughter sounded again and without thought Mitch threw himself through the swinging doors and sprinted across the street. Everything turned red; one person came into focus at the end of his tunneled vision. Grayson.
Mitch grabbed Grayson's shoulder and swung the man around while at the same time he swung and punched his face. Grayson had no time to react and fell backward onto the sidewalk. Olivia and her party shrieked and scattered.
Mitch stood over the fallen man. "Get up, Grayson."
"Damn right I will." Grayson rushed to his feet and tackled him around the waist, both fell onto the dirt road and began to wrestle. Mitch ignored the sound of footsteps and hollering, he lifted an arm to deflect Grayson's fist and rolled to his side managing to get to his feet. Grayson swung again connecting with his midsection and doubling him over with a loud "Umphf."
"Get 'em up," Grayson growled.
Matthew landed on his butt at Mitch's feet, his friend winked at him before jumping to his feet and swinging at Bronson Cole, who'd come to help his brother. The sound of more scrambling caught his attention; Glenn Walters and Ashley Cole were now trading punches like two prizefighters. Mitch swung and connected with the side of Grayson's face. He went to swing again only to receive a hard punch to his own.
A gunshot boomed, the startling sound made them stop.
The town sheriff, Miles Dawson, neared, his face a storm of anger. "One more swing and I'm taking you all to jail." The tall lanky man came to stand next to Mitch. "All of you go on now and get out of here." He looked at Grayson and his brothers "Get on home, boys, I'll speak to you later."
The twins went to leave, then as one they turned and went toward Ashley who'd not moved away from Glenn Walters. Both men stared at each other, animosity straining between them. Even after the twins grabbed Ashley, the male did not break eye contact. "This isn't over, Walters." His deep voice soft, but loud enough everyone heard it.
Finally the brothers left and Mitch turned to find Sheriff Dawson studying him with a closed expression. "I'm not going to ask what that was all about. But I am going to tell you that I don't abide drunks picking fights in my town."
A drunk. Was that what he was now? Mitch held his handkerchief to his brow in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing into his eyes. "I apologize, sheriff, it won't happen again."
"See to it. Next time you're going to jail." The man stuck out his chest when Olivia and her friend neared.
Eyes narrowed, Olivia's eyes roamed over him, her mouth pursed with disapproval. "Well, Mitch Banks, whatever has come over you? I don't know why you hit Grayson, but I assure you we did nothing more than speak of the weather." She shook her head and took a breath. "I am not sure what to think of your behavior."
"Ladies." Sheriff Dawson tipped his hat and interrupted before Mitch could answer. "Miss Dougherty, I believe it's best if Mitch sees your father. The cut over his eye is quite large, it may need a few stitches."
"I'll take care of it myself," Mitch replied, the last thing he needed right now was to go to Olivia's father's office. Doctor Dougherty, although mild mannered, was also overprotective of his daughter.
"Of course, sheriff, you're right." Olivia slid him another disapproving look then looked to Walter and Matthew who'd moved against the building as if hoping to become invisible. "Both of you need looked at too, come along, bring him to father's," she turned on her heel and walked toward Doc Dougherty's office, which was a block away. Like sheep the men followed without a word. Although young and beautiful, Olivia was also well known for her vibrant temper, doctoring abilities, and remarkable marksmanship.
Both Walter and Matthew were quickly patched up and dismissed, leaving Mitch last to be seen. He sat on a long padded table and watched the doctor wash his hands. Olivia stood alongside where he sat, her nose raised just a hair higher than usual. She'd not spoken to him the entire time, instead kept busy assisting her father.
"Olivia rinse out the gash before I stitch it up." Doc Dougherty nodded at a bowl of clean water. Mitch closed his eyes when she leaned closer and removed the cloth from his brow. The scent of fresh flowers surrounded him and he inhaled for more of it. Her hands were not gentle when she held his head and used a wet cloth to clean the wound, quite the opposite.
Mitch drew in breath sharply when she rubbed the wet cloth across it a fourth time. "Ouch."
"I think you require a bit of antiseptic," Olivia purred, her voice sweet. Mitch opened one eye and looked at her, but she turned his head so he could not see her. "Keep still."
The strong scent of the antiseptic should have warned him of what came next, but the sting of the foul liquid caught him unawares. He groaned through clenched teeth and attempted to jerk his head out of her hold, yet she managed to dab another bit of the painful treatment to a small cut on his lip. "Ouch." Mitch lowered one leg from the table when the doctor stepped in and pushed him back to sit.
"Olivia, you didn't have to use quite that much. No wonder Mitch was squealing." The doctor shook his head. "Are you all right, Mitch?"
His pride stung almost as much as the antiseptic. "Yes, sir, I'm fine."
Doctor Dougherty chuckled. "At least we don't have to worry about an infection. Now close your eyes so I can get this cut stitched, it won't be but a bit."
Perhaps to distract him, the doc began to talk. "Yep, in my day, we fought over most anything. I remember once the older sheriff threw my brothers and me in jail when we got into a fistfight during a town festival. Ended up in there ‘til our Pa paid for all the damage we did 'cause we tore up the sheriff's wife's display of pottery." The man shook his head. "I don't know what you and those boys fought about, but I will tell ya, those Cole brothers are good fighters and it looks like you held your own."
A few minutes later, his head throbbing, Mitch made his way out of the doctor's office. Olivia was nowhere in sight. He wasn't sure when, but sometime while her father stitched him up, she'd left. He wanted to be relieved at her absence, but disappointment nudged it out of the way.
Now to face his sister and find out if she already heard what happened.
Chapter Seven
"Ouch, Ma," Grayson groaned when the needle poked through his skin. "That stings."
"It should teach you not to get into fights. My goodness at your age this makes two incredibly stupid things you've done in the last couple weeks," his mother admonished while glaring around the room at his brothers. "All of you know better than to make a spectacle of yourselves in town, in the middle of the day no less."
"Mitch Banks attacked Grayson, we simply stepped in when his two friends went after him too," Ashley explained shocking everyone in the room with the longest remark he'd made in a long time.
"Why did Mitch hit you?" his mother asked. "It doesn't sound like him."
"I don't know, I was talking to Olivia Dougherty and next thing I know he swung me around and hit me." Grayson grimaced when the needle poked again.
"If he's sweet on Olivia, I'm sure he suspected you were attempting to seduce the girl, or being disrespectful of his sister."
"It was neither," Grayson grumbled. "The man was drunk."
Finally his mother finished and he remained sitting, a mug of coffee in his hands. Ashley followed her out while Bronson remained, his eyes on the doorway as if he, too, wanted to leave, but was forced to stay since his mother told him to stay and keep an eye on her stew. Grayson looked up at his brother. "Why have you been so quiet? You barely speak to me. Am I offending everyone these days?"
"Why her?" The question meant nothing to him, but seeing the darkness of Bronson's expression, Grayson decided it was best to wait before answering.
Darkened blue eyes met his. "You can have any woman in Alder Gulch. Have had half of them. Why Nora Banks?"
"Why Nora Banks what?" His already pounding head pulsed. "I didn't ask for any of this. What the heck are you asking me?"
"Nora," Bronson replied as if that answered anything. "She deserves more. Someone who actually cares for her. Not you, who sees her as a bother."
"I don't see her as a bother," Grayson snapped. "And just so you know neither of us are thrilled with the current circumstances."
Bronson lowered so his face was right in front of Grayson's, almost nose-to-nose. "Are you sure about that?" He straightened and ran his fingers through his short hair. "Watch Ma's stew, I need to get away from you."
Confused and aching, Grayson let his head fall back. "What the hell just happened?" he muttered.
"Mind your mouth, boy," his father walked into the kitchen. Hank Cole went to the stove and poked a spoon into the pot giving it a quick stir before picking up the coffee pot and pouring some dark liquid into a cup. "Who you talking to anyway?"
"Bronson's mad at me, Ma's not too pleased with me either and for some reason Mitch Banks found it necessary to redecorate my face with his fists. I am not sure what I did but I've got everyone riled up and angry."
His father sat down at the table and took a drink of coffee before he looked to him. "Your Ma is upset that her baby got hurt, she's not mad at you. As for Mitch Banks well only he knows what spurred him to do this. You and your brother, now that one you need to work out. Talk to him."
It took him a bit to stand from the chair, the ache now a dull throb was easier to ignore, so Grayson went in search of Bronson. After wandering through the house, Grayson found his twin in the barn. Brushing his horse down, Bronson visibly tensed at his presence, but ignored him.
"Why are you mad about Nora?"
Bronson shrugged. "You don't know."
His stomach sunk at realizing that perhaps Nora and Bronson were courting and he wasn't aware. "Was Nora waiting for you in the hayloft?"
There was no expression in Bronson's face when he turned to look at him. "No."
"Then what?"
"I'd asked her father for permission to court her just before the festival." Bronson threw down the brush and walked past him out of the barn toward the house.
Grayson could only gawk at his brother's back. Past Bronson, a buggy pulled up at the house. Nora.
Not good timing.
The entire ride out Nora practiced what she'd say to Grayson. If the man was already making a fool out of her by continuing his attempts to dally with other women, then she wanted no part of continuing the farce of their relationship. Her plan was set. Go straight to him and tell him she never wanted to see him again. No need for conversation or any type of apology.
She climbed down from the buggy and glanced toward the house, it would be bad etiquette not to speak to Elizabeth Cole first. Footsteps neared and she turned to see Bronson nearing. Nora steeled herself against softening. Right now she needed to stay angry.
"Good afternoon, Nora," Bronson looked at her then over to the house. "Grayson’s not home, he's in the barn."
"I'm sorry," Nora blurted. "I know you spoke to my father. I planned to talk to you. Should have spoken to you about all this." She motioned to the barn. "You intended on courting me and I..."
"I did." His statement was even and his eyes flat. "But looks like things worked out differently."
"I wouldn't have accepted," Nora couldn't believe how blunt her words sounded, but she'd come planning to get things straight between her and the Cole brothers.
Finally Bronson showed emotion, his brows drawing together. "Why?"
Not the time to pull any punches. "I admire you, Bronson, I really do. You are definitely the better choice. But you look too much..."
"I look just like him, after all we are twins." He finished through clenched teeth and looked over his shoulder towards the barn. "Does he know how you feel?"
Her heart thumped against her breastbone. "No. Not sure it matters anyway. I came to make sure the farce of our relationship ends."
Bronson's shoulders fell, his entire countenance softened. "He's not a bad man, Nora. Just afraid." Without another word, he went past her to the house and entered closing the door behind him.
Picking up her skirts to keep them from dragging, Nora made her way to the barn. Of course, Bronson would defend his twin, but he knew as much as she did, Grayson was not the settling kind.
Once inside the barn, it took a few minutes for her eyes to accustom to the dimness of the interior. When she could see, her first instinct was to look up to the hayloft. Her cheeks warmed at remembering what happened only two weeks earlier. Instantly in her mind, the feel of the warmth and hardness of Grayson's body when he'd fallen on top of her. Annoyed at the direction her thoughts went, Nora stalked from the fr
ont of the building and continued past empty stalls only to realize Grayson was nowhere inside.
Once past the last stall, she ventured through to the other side of the barn where the corrals stood. Several large beautiful horses grazed lazily in the late afternoon sun while others pranced as if putting on a show.
On the side of the building sitting on an upside down bucket, was Grayson. He'd not heard her. Shoulders slumped and hands with fingers entwined on his lap, Grayson sat with his chin resting on his chest. Even though obviously upset and with his guard down, his muscular physique was a thing of beauty. His shoulder length hair shielded his face, and Nora vacillated whether to go to him or leave.
She approached and placed her hand on his wide shoulder. He did not move or acknowledge her presence. "Grayson?"
His next action took her by surprise. His calloused hand covered hers. "Don't say whatever you plan to say. You're probably mad at me too, just like everyone else. Let me just apologize for everything that I've ever done to you and everyone." Finally he lifted his face to her. Bewilderment displayed in his eyes when they met hers. His brows drawn together, he attempted to smile, but failed. An angry swollen gash above his left eye had been stitched and his split bottom lip was now purpled and healing. Nora stepped away not sure she could keep from wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Comforting him.
Grayson stood and began to pace, head still down; he rammed his fingers through his hair combing it from his face. Jaw hard, he looked at her for a moment before speaking. "I am not sure what I did today that upset your brother. It seems that no matter what I do, everyone assumes the worst of me. I suppose that's why no one believed us about the hayloft incident. Imma try to figure out how to get out of this, Nora. Without you being affected."
He took a breath and went back to the bucket and sat. "Now my brother's mad at me, not sure what to do about that yet. Guess I'll figure that out too."
A Different Shade of Blue, Shades of Blue, Book 2 Page 5