There was only one day that could qualify as worse than this one, Nora sighed and waited, but her mother refused to look at her.
In a way she was grateful to get away from her mother, she didn't have anything left to give. Besides the women would take care of her. Right now she needed to find Mitch. She hurried to her room and removed holster and gun then headed to her parent's bedroom.
Mitch sat in a chair beside their father's bed. With his forehead resting on his palms, he did not look up when she entered. Unable to stop herself, a sob escaped at seeing her father. The man who'd just yesterday helped customers at the store, even carrying bundles out for them, now lay in the bed, all semblance of health gone. It was strange to see frailty in the man who, although never large, remained quick and robust her entire life.
Mitch looked up and stood. "Nora, I've been worried. I couldn't leave to look for you..." His eyes flew to her waistline. "Have you been injured? There's blood on your clothes."
It struck her to be thankful then that their mother was so overcome she'd not noticed it was blood. Nora shook her head. "I'm fine. It was Grayson who was shot. I was there, it's his blood on my clothing."
"Is he well?"
"He's being seen to by the doctor now, but yes, it seems he will recover, least an infection sets in." She closed the distance between them and fell into Mitch's broad chest. "I'm sorry I wasn't here with you and Mother. Did you speak to him before he died."
Mitch hugged her, and tensed at her question. "No, I did not speak to him. It was only after Ma told me he'd been unwell last night that I came to check on him. When I found him here in bed, he was alive, but barely. He died shortly after I fetched the doctor."
The tears she'd been holding burst from her and Nora cried while holding on to her brother. Sobs racked her as sorrow for the loss of their endearing gentle father washed through her. Mitch patted her back, his chest shuddering as he cried with her.
This was a day of endings. She'd killed the cause of many nightmares. The one consolation in what she did was that her brother was free to live his life without worrying of the man harming her again. But what a price to pay. She'd killed, taken a human life. Was that why God took her father's? Sobs racked through her so hard, it hurt and yet she continued not able to stop.
"What will happen to mother, Mitch? Who will see to her every whim?" Nora brushed tears away.
"Don't worry about that now, we'll wait and see what she wishes to do."
That evening, after Carolyn Banks was tucked in the guest bedroom after taking a sedative and Mitch slept in the family room, Nora left the house and went to check on Grayson. She'd bathed and changed her clothes, yet the stench of the man's touch seemed to remain. Somehow she'd have to broach the subject of her shooting the stranger with Mitch. He'd hear about it sooner or later from a townsperson and would confront her. She'd rather he learn about it from her.
Doctor Dougherty looked up as she walked in, his lips curved into a polite smile. "How are you, Nora? Did your mother take the sedative I left?"
"Yes," Nora replied and motioned past him. "Can I see Grayson?"
"Of course. He's been sleeping, but doing well so far. His brother plans to take him home tomorrow. He went to get Bronson and a cart."
Grayson lay in the darkened room, a soft snore told he slept and she smiled at the sound. Closing the distance, she leaned over him and checked his coloring. As if sensing her regard, he took a deep breath and turned his face towards her. Unable to stop herself, she pressed a kiss to his mouth, enjoying the softness of his lips.
"You have to get well, Grayson. I need you."
A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away. "As stubborn as you are, I know you prefer not to be lying about like this."
His lips twitched, but he remained asleep and she sat to watch over him for a few minutes.
Chapter Fifteen
Ashley returned to town on the cart with Bronson beside him. His brother was unusually somber keeping his eyes straight ahead, his brow furrowed.
"He's going to be all right," Ashley said, in an attempt to reassure Grayson's twin. "Doc said the only thing to watch for is fever."
Bronson nodded and took a breath. "I know, it's just that he could've died, I should have come to see about him, to help out with your situation."
"You're here now." Ashley placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Let's get our brother home and take care of him."
The sheriff waved them over and Ashley considered not paying heed. Instead he pulled the horse to a stop and handed the reins to Bronson. "Go on to Doc's, I will meet you there in a few minutes."
"Are you sure?"
He ignored Bronson's concern and motioned with both hands for him to go. "I'll be there shortly. Don't move him until I get there."
Sheriff Dawson watched Bronson leave before speaking. "After talking with Nora Banks and investigating all this mess, I've decided you had nothing to do with Walter’s murder."
Instead of saying something that would get him in more trouble Ashley remained silent.
"But there is the matter of your treatment of Grace. She claims not to be hurt, but I've seen her favor that right arm." His narrowed eyes looked over Ashley. "You're lucky I'm not going to do anything about it right now with what's going on with your brother and all. But you watch yourself, Ashley Cole, walk a straight line. I got my eye on you."
"One day I'll figure out why you hate me so much, Uncle Miles."
The sheriff turned and went back into his office without replying.
It was three blocks to the doctor's office; Ashley went past the mercantile and saw a 'Closed due to death in the family' sign on the door. He wondered when it would be a good time to tell Grayson that Nora's father had passed. Perhaps it would be something better handled by their parents.
Once inside the doctor's office he found Bronson sitting right inside the door, his eyes slid toward the back room and Ashley stalked back past the doctor who remained at his desk, his head bent over a book.
Grayson was asleep, his hand held by Nora whose head lay on the side of the bed and she too slept. Ashley neared and touched her shoulder.
Her eyes flew open and she looked first to Grayson and then up to Ashley. "Oh goodness, I must have dozed off." The beautiful woman stood and stretched her neck side to side. "I came last night after mother finally fell asleep. I didn't plan to say all night." Her eyes went back to Grayson. "He's got a slight fever, but Doc doesn't seem too worried about it."
"Ma will take care of him, she's chomping at the bit to get him home."
Nora wiped her hands down her black skirts. "Yes, of course. Take care of him, Ashley." After patting Grayson's shoulder and kissing his brother's forehead, Nora went toward the door.
"I know you have the funeral and all to see to, but it would do Grayson good to see you, so please come out as soon as you can."
Nora kept her back to him. "Grayson and I are no longer engaged, Ashley, I'm sure he'll recover well enough without me visiting." She continued moving, seconds later the sound of the front door closing was followed by Bronson and the doctor coming into the back room.
Two weeks later.
"Ma, I really can't eat another bite." Grayson hated that he sounded more like a boy than a man, but his mother was relentless in feeding him constantly. She'd just shown up with cake and coffee even though he'd just eaten an hour earlier. He took the coffee to appease her and drank unable to refuse her at noting the worry marks on both sides of her tight lips. "Can you take the stitches out? They're itching."
"Doctor Dougherty insists on coming out here tomorrow to check you before removing the stitches. I think it's best. The wounds, especially the one on your side was deep."
Grayson attempted to sit straighter and grimaced, the pain was still unbearable at times, but he was tired of remaining flat on his back. Bronson who'd walked in a minute earlier helped by pushing an extra pillow behind his back and sat on a chair watching him.
"I'll
be back to check on you later." Their mother placed the cake on the bedside table and left.
Grayson looked up at the ceiling and let out a breath. "I wish she wouldn't worry so much."
"You're lucky, Gray, the man could've killed you. We're all aware of that." Bronson's pained expression brought guilt over what his family went through because of him. He should've been more careful. "I know, but I'd do it again for Ashley."
"Nora hasn't been by to see you, it's been two weeks since you were shot."
He studied his brother's face for signs of anger or resentment, but all he saw was curiosity. "She's got enough to worry about with her father's passing and all. Besides I'm not sure where we stand, her father broke off the engagement."
"Yeah, he came here and talked to Pa. It was obvious his wife put the man up to it by the way he kept apologizing. Pa told him it should be up to you and Nora, but Mister Arthur was insistent."
Grayson nodded. "It's what I told Nora when she told me." He stopped talking realizing his brother would be pained to hear more.
"She cares for you, Grayson," Bronson said looking him straight in the eye. "I'm resigned that she'll never have deep feelings for anyone but you."
"Where do you get that idea from?" Surely Bronson was trying to make him feel better because he'd been shot.
His brother pressed on. "I spoke to her, that day Nora came out here and found you at the barn. I asked her why she'd not accepted me and she replied it was because I would constantly remind her of you."
"I don't know about that, I know she doesn't trust me, and I'm not sure I blame her. I've told her several times I don't plan to ever marry again." Regardless of the words, the thought of not seeing her brought emptiness he'd not felt before.
Although Bronson's admission was good to hear, Grayson wondered if he could ever gain Nora's trust. And if he did, what would it matter. Each time he considered the fact that Nora was someone he could picture himself with long-term, fear rose its ugly head and constricted his chest until he couldn't breathe.
Case in point the stranger holding a gun to her temple was proof of how fate could step in at any minute and snatch a loved one away.
Bronson got his attention by clearing his throat. "I have no idea how you felt when Sophia died, but I know it affected you a lot. If I could take that pain for you I would, Gray, just to see you happy again. The skirt chasin' and swagger about town is an act, a protection for your heart. We know it, the family. Nora's a good, beautiful woman and if you give it half a chance you can be happy again. Don't let fear steal everything from you."
Grayson was speechless for a few minutes. Although he and Bronson had the uncommon bond of twins and could talk for hours about anything, for the first time he realized his brother was a wise man, someone he loved and admired, but had not given enough credit. "When did you get so smart?"
Bronson's lips lifted into his signature lazy smile, his face colored in a light blush. "Shut up, Gray."
"Come 'ere, brother," Grayson said holding out his left arm. Bronson sat on the edge of the bed and they half-hugged, his brother careful not to hurt him.
"I love you." Bronson nudged his shoulder. "You scared the hell out of me, getting shot up like that."
"I love you too and believe me, it scared the hell out of me too."
The brothers chuckled and Bronson lay back on the bed next to him, his arms behind his head. "Remember when we used to pretend to get shot and make all those noises and motions before falling over?"
"Yeah, we were quite the actors," Grayson replied and shook his head. "I don't know if I made any noises when I got shot. Probably screamed like a woman."
"Nah, your voice is too deep, I'm sure you sounded more like a boar in heat." Bronson laughed at his own joke and grunted like a pig.
"Just remember we got the same voice, so that's what you'd sound like too."
Once again his brother became somber. "Grayson, think about what I've said. You may lose Nora if you don't act. And that would be a tragedy."
The aromatic smell of coffee wafted through the door, his parent's nightly ritual of sitting at the dining room table to discuss the day over a cup of coffee. He pondered if he'd ever have that. Without warning his heart began to pound and his breathing became erratic.
His twin watched with a solemn face, possibly able to understand what he went through, as they'd often deduced each other's feelings. "Take a deep breath, Gray, slow it down." Bronson's calmness helped and he clung to the words his brother repeated.
"You know," Bronson began once Grayson slumped back onto his pillow, breathing under control. "There will come a time when you'll fear living without someone, more than this irrational fear of hurting again. Once that happens, you will no longer allow fear to win."
They remained in the room, in a comfortable silence, Grayson deep in thought and Bronson at a small table, looking over the ranch's ledgers. His love for mathematics a welcome gift since Ashley and their father preferred the outdoors to being cooped up in a room looking over the books.
Grayson's eyelids began to drop and he allowed sleep to take over. Later through the haze the bed moved and the pillows behind him were drawn away, blankets were pulled over him and the lamplight went out. Although comforted by his caring family, a dull ache remained and his last coherent contemplation was if Nora thought about him this night.
Did she miss him?
The next day the doctor arrived as expected. Grayson suffered through his mother's interrogation of the poor man asking about each and every detail of what needed to be done to ensure he healed well. Just as his mother went to ask another question, he interrupted. "Ma, between my brothers and me, we've had more than enough broken bones, scrapes that needed stitches and remember that time Ashley got knocked out when he fell out of a tree? Why are you asking so many questions this time?"
Elizabeth Cole frowned at him. "None of you have been shot." Her hand reached up to her hair and she smoothed it back from her face. While he hated to stop her, at the same time he wondered about her overprotection. His mother was never one to pamper them.
"Should we proceed?" Doctor Dougherty looked to his mother. "Elizabeth, if you could assist me with..." They got busy with removing the stitches while Grayson concentrated on staring at the ceiling, breathing evenly to keep from jerking when the stitches were removed and the press of the doctor's fingers on his wounds sent cutting pains.
When the doctor moved away and began to pack up his bag, he looked to Grayson over his spectacles. "You can return to normal activities, but I advise you wait a couple weeks before riding." With an understanding smile, he looked to Elizabeth. "He's going to recover fully, I don't expect any complications whatsoever."
"I will see you out, doctor." Elizabeth Cole ushered him out and Grayson sat up gingerly, his side still tender. He pulled his shirt closed when his mother returned, her eyes downcast in thought.
"Grayson," she said, stopped to take a deep breath. "I need to tell you about something you probably don't remember." Her pretty face pinched, a grimace that made him wonder if she was in pain. When he went to stand, she held her hand out motioning him to stay. "Please, just let me talk."
"Ma, what's wrong."
Her half smile failed to reassure him. "I know I've been overly protective and smothering you half to death. I'm sorry, honey. But you see this is the second time I've almost lost you and I've been so afraid that having cheated fate once, it would come back for you."
"What do you mean?"
"When you and Bronson were but two years old, we lost you. We'd gone to Virginia City to take the three of you boys to the fair. I was holding your hand and suddenly you were gone."
Grayson searched his memory but could not remember the event. In silence he waited for his mother to continue.
"Finally I saw you, a ways down the road. Your beautiful golden curls stood out in the distance, I was never so glad to have let your hair grow long in my life. I raced toward you after ensuring your father held
on to your brothers." She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "It was a woman, she picked you up and tucked you into a buggy, leaving before I could get to you. Just as she rode off you turned and saw me. Started screaming and crying. Tore my heart to pieces, I collapsed on the ground screaming as loud as you."
Grayson took her hand and she continued. "Thankfully several people got a good look at her. Your father and I searched nonstop, formed posses and traveled throughout the area until we found you two days later. She lived not too far from here. The woman was mad with grief; she'd lost her little daughter to typhoid and took you thinking you were a girl."
Elizabeth Cole cupped his jaw. "It was a long time before you trusted me to leave you alone."
He finally understood his mother's doting on him and why she had such a problem cutting his hair. It was a security for her. Grayson took her hand. "Thank you, Ma. If it makes you feel any better, I promise to follow the doctor's instructions to the letter. It's comforting to know that you and Pa went to such lengths to find me."
Later that day, Grayson sat in front of the fireplace and watched the rhythmic dance of the flames, the occasional crackle soothing.
His father and Bronson returned from outdoors and hung their gun belts and hats on pegs inside the doorway.
"Feeling better, son?" His father placed a large hand on Grayson's shoulder. "Stitches came out today, right?"
"Yes, I was going to come out to the barn, but Ma..."
"She'd not allow it," his father told him, understanding. "Yeah, well there'll be plenty of time for that."
A Different Shade of Blue, Shades of Blue, Book 2 Page 11