The Darkest Blue
Hildie McQueen
Pink Door Publishing, Augusta, Georgia 2013
The Darkest Blue
Shades of Blue Series
Copyright © Hildie McQueen 2013
Pink Door Publishing
Second Edition, February 2016
Cover Artist: Robin Ludwig Design Inc.
Editor: Scott Moreland
ISBN: 978-1-939356-11-6
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)
Single Titles
The Widow’s Choice
Beneath a Silver Sky
Under a Silver Moon
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 Gentrys of Montana
The Rancher
The Marshal
The Outlaw
Moriag Series, Highland Historical Novellas
Beauty and the Highlander
The Lass and the Laird
Lady and the Scot
The Laird’s Daughter
Find all of Hildie McQueen’s books at
http://www.hildiemcqueen.com
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my faithful friend and reader, Susie Donnelly, who reads every book I write and claims to love them! Thank you for being such a great friend. I hope you enjoy The Darkest Blue.
Chapter One
Alder Gulch, Montana 1870
“It’s time for you to consider marrying and settling down, Ash.” His mother passed the potato-laden platter for Ashley to hold while spooning some onto his plate. Her sparkling green eyes met his. “Now that Grayson is settled and Nora’s expecting their first child, I would love to see you and Bronson starting your own families.” She regarded him and then his brother, who coughed to cover a snicker.
Any hope of his father diverting the conversation was gone when Hank Cole chuckled. “I agree with your mother.” He looked first to Bronson, Grayson’s twin, and then to Ashley. “It’s time both of you begin thinking about continuing the Cole name and making your portion of the lands prosperous.”
The family, joined by ranch hand Josiah McClintock, the newest subject of Elizabeth Cole’s doting, surrounded the long, sturdy, pine table in the dining room.
Bronson, ever the wily one, cleared his throat and his eyes slid to Ashley. “I hear you walked about town with Grace Dawson not too long ago. Even carried her packages.”
The vivid vision of choking the life out of his brother helped Ashley keep calm. “I only assisted the woman because she threatened to kick me when I blocked her from exiting the seamstress shop. One would think she owned the walkway.”
“I like Grace. She’s a spirited girl, which I think would be more than suitable in a wife for you, darling.” Elizabeth Cole’s lips curved at his discomfort. “I love you so much, Ash. I need to see you happy and know that someone recognizes that huge heart you possess.”
“Ma, I am not sure any woman would get past my reputation for killing people and eating young children.” He attempted to joke, but it fell flat at his mother’s gasp.
“Hank Ashley Cole that is not something to laugh at. Yes, you have a dark reputation. But a large part of it is of your own doing. The terrible habit you have of not talking outside the family and then there’s that whole nasty rumor about what happened to you while serving with the 2nd Montana Territory Cavalry regiment. You’d think they’d have better things to talk about.”
The reminder of his time with the cavalry caused the food on his plate to lose its appeal.
This time, his brother managed to take the focus away without making him angry. “You know, Ma, there aren’t many women in town. Not sure anyone’s left for us.”
“Nonsense.” Thankfully, his mother turned her attention to Bronson. “What about Millie Jensen, the seamstress’ daughter? She’s of age, I believe she’s seventeen. Oh, I almost forgot.” She turned back to Ashley. “Clara Bixby, the new schoolteacher, inquired about you when I was in town the other day. I found it interesting. She is nice don’t you think?”
He attempted to remember the woman, but failed. Instead of upsetting his mother further, he nodded. “That was nice, although I don’t know that I’ve ever met her.”
“She’s a bit older than you, but pleasant.” His mother touched her finger to her chin. “Now why would she ask about you if you’ve never met?”
Josiah’s chair slid across the floor but his attempt to leave the conversation was thwarted when Elizabeth pinned him with a look. “What about you, Josiah? With no family to speak of, you should consider starting one of your own, as well.”
It was comical to see the usually stoic man blush. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You need to go to town more often.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Josiah managed a convincing sincere expression.
Satisfied by his reply, Elizabeth turned back to Bronson. “You know Olivia Dougherty is single and about your age.”
Ashley almost laughed out loud when Bronson’s eyes bulged at the suggestion. “Ma, she’s engaged to Matt Corson.”
“Not engaged yet and from what I gather, it’s not a love match, so anything can happen.”
When Elizabeth looked across the table at her husband, Ashley’s chest warmed at the obvious love between them. From infancy, one thing he knew for certain was that his parents loved and were devoted to each other. There was rarely a day they did not show affection. It made him yearn for that type of a relationship. But at the same time, it also saddened him to realize he’d never have it.
“Thank you for dinner.” Josiah stood and left with swift speed that made them all watch.
Hank Cole stretched and yawned. “I’m going outside for a bit. Care to join me, Ash?” He bent to kiss his wife’s cheek. “I’ll let you keep Bronson for a bit longer. He’s not suffered enough.” After a playful push at her husband’s chest, Elizabeth Cole shook her head and laughed.
The night breeze was a welcome respite from the heated kitchen. Ashley walked past the porch to stand on the grassy ground and look across to the horizon where the sun was well into its descent. As was his father’s habit, he went to a short stool with guitar in hand, his blue eyes somber when regarding Ashley.
“I haven’t told your mother that your house is almost complete. Mostly because I’ve been waiting for you to tell me what that’s all about.” His father picked at the guitar strings and strummed absently. “Do you plan to move in to it soon, son?”
Ashley climbed the porch steps and stood with his back against one of the thick columns supporting
the porch. “In one way Ma is right, Pa. I have to start my own life. I am thirty-two years old and need to. And before you ask, no I don’t plan to get married. You, more than anyone, know about my nightmares, the times when I’m better left alone, when my temperament gets the best of me. I keep remembering the time I hurt Grayson when he tried to wake me from a bad dream. I could hurt a wife, I could possible even ki—”
“Don’t have so little faith in yourself, son,” his father interrupted. “When you love someone and are responsible for their well-being, you’d be amazed at the changes that kind of responsibility brings out in a man.”
“Maybe.” He looked up at the star-filled sky for a few moments then diverted the conversation back to his house. “Since the ranch hands were not doing much after the harvesting and selling of cattle, I offered them work to help me finish my cabin. I planned to bring you and Ma to see it once it’s done.”
“But?”
“I am not sure how to bring Ma around to the idea that I plan to move out there and live alone.”
“She’ll not be too happy, I suppose.” His father’s frown must have mirrored his own. None of the Cole men liked to upset Elizabeth. In their eyes, her love and devotion to them was unparalleled. In exchange for their doting, she repaid them a hundredfold with the loving sustenance most people could only dream about.
“It’s not so far I can’t come to dinner just as often as I do now from the bunkhouse. And Ma can come during the day, since the cabin is on our lands. She can’t really say I’ve moved away, in a sense.”
His father smiled at him in the familiar calming way that made it hard to believe the description his mother often used of Hank when they’d first met. She described him as proud, arrogant, and quite forward. “I’ll let you tell her when you feel the time is right. In the meantime, I’ll remind her that men, unlike women, are not on a timetable to marry.”
“Thanks, Pa.” He inhaled the fragrance of night and watched as Bronson walked past the threshold towards the larger family room with his mother behind him. She looked to be enjoying the younger Cole’s suffering
*****
“Kill him.” Captain Ford’s frosty gaze bore into Ashley’s, giving no room for argument. To disobey would result in a court martial.
“Sir, Private Smith’s got a wife and child. He could survive.” Ashley Cole looked away from the captain, his eyes now on the injured soldier who’d passed out from his injuries. “I will carry him myself if I have to.”
“You’re still recovering from the flesh wound you got yesterday, Cole. I wonder if you can make it back to camp yourself.” Captain Ford’s glacial expression did not change.
Before Ashley could react, Corporal Roberts, more the captain’s puppet than soldier, shoved him aside. The corporal drew his weapon and pointed it at the unconscious Smith and pulled back the hammer.
“No!” Ashley rushed the man, throwing all his weight into him. But Ashley was at a disadvantage against the much thicker and uninjured Roberts.
The gunshot went off, but did not strike Smith. Both Ashley and Roberts tumbled backward onto the parched earth, volumes of dust lifting in blinding clouds. Ashley landed a punch to the stout man’s midsection, his fist sinking into flesh eliciting a loud grunt from Roberts. Taking advantage of the man’s distraction, Ashley snatched and tossed the weapon away from Roberts’ reach.
“You’re not going to win this, Cole.” Roberts lunged for Ashley’s sidearm still in the holster, sending them to roll over each other, fighting to gain control of the remaining weapon.
Using his heavier weight, Roberts overpowered him, his fist connecting with the side of Ashley’s face. Although it was hard to clear his vision, Ashley managed to hold on to the butt of the gun, his body shaking from effort.
The searing pain of the wound in his left shoulder grew worse the longer he struggled and Roberts managed to finally disarm him.
Ashley gripped the man’s stocky arm with both hands. His entire body protested as he struggled, eyes trained on the revolver that, inch-by-inch, the corporal turned toward Smith.
The gun’s blast echoed in his ears and Smith’s lifeless face lulled to the side.
“No! Stop!” Ashley jumped from his bed and swung around, flaying blindly in the darkness. It was a dream. Just a dream. He stumbled back to the bunk and pulled the blankets around his shivering body.
How could he even consider the possibility of a wife when barely a night passed without the damn nightmares? No, he would never subject a woman to this hell.
Staring into the black night, eyes wide, he remained awake for hours, too scared to sleep.
Chapter Two
For the last hour, cavalry Captain Erwin Ford stared directly at Grace Dawson while speaking to her parents in their parlor. Although the color of his eyes was appealing, a clear blue, they held coldness that reminded her of death. A shiver traveled up her spine at the thought.
His continued close scrutiny forced her to remain attentive to Ford while looking anywhere but at him. She glanced at her parents who didn’t seem to pay any notice to his intense regard of her and then looked back to the captain. It did not sit well that this gentleman was overly focused on her while in the presence of her father and mother.
If she were to be honest, Grace didn’t find his appearance appealing in any way. She supposed with his golden appearance, most women would find his attention flattering, but Grace found the man annoying. She gave her mother a pointed look in hopes she’d be sent from the room to gather refreshments or, better yet, outside to plow behind an ox.
After a long dinner over which her father’s guest told endless stories of his prowess in battle, Captain Ford none too gently suggested they retire back to the parlor for brandy. Her relief at the men going off without the women was short lived when her mother, enamored with the visitor’s single status and admittedly handsome features, insisted she and Grace join them.
They settled into the parlor, with the captain in a chair next to hers and her parents sharing a settee across from them. The muscles in her cheeks ached from maintaining a polite smile.
Captain Ford cleared his throat. “It was not an easy life, out on the plains, my troops and I constantly surrounded by savages who cared little for their own lives…”
A weak stomach would be a blessing. Why couldn’t she be one of those women who could convincingly profess an illness?
“Grace?” Her mother’s high pitch startled her.
“Yes, Mother?” Grace noticed everyone watched her as if expecting some sort of reply. “I’m sorry, I was about to offer coffee if anyone would like it.”
Beatrice Dawson’s eyes narrowed and her lips formed a straight line. “Captain Ford just asked if you’d accompany him for a drive tomorrow afternoon.”
Alone with him, a second shiver ran through her at the idea of being alone with the man who made it quite obvious he was interested in getting to know her on a more personal level. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been positively cloudy today. It may storm tomorrow,” she replied, looking towards the window willing thunderclouds to form. The captain’s eyebrows rose. Of course, he was not used to any type of rebuff by the look of surprise at her reply. No doubt, women flocked to him vying for notice.
Over six feet tall with golden hair and clear blue eyes, he was striking. Grace would concede that much. But for some reason, he made her uncomfortable. Although admittedly, she was slow to warm to strangers and, in this instance, his overly heated observations didn’t make it easy for her to like the man.
“If it rains, of course we’ll postpone, Grace,” he told her, his eyes locked to hers as if challenging her to look away first. “Would early afternoon be acceptable?”
She eyed her parents who looked on with opposing forms of interest. Her mother leaned forward, her hands clenched together urging Grace to accept, while her father’s brow was lowered and he looked at the captain as if assessing his intentions. How she loved her papa. “Yes, of course that is accept
able.”
“Good, that’s settled,” her mother stated with a wide grin. “I am delighted at the opportunity to see you again tomorrow, Captain Ford.”
Grace couldn’t help but smile at seeing the flush on her mother’s cheeks when the visitor gifted her with a smile. It seemed Captain Ford had gained another admirer in town.
“Maybe you’d like to join us, Mother?” Grace gave her best attempt at an innocent expression.
Her mother blushed and laughed. “Don’t be silly, Grace. The captain wishes to spend time with you.”
Damn.
Thankfully, he left shortly after and Grace headed to her bedroom only to be stopped by her mother. “I don’t know if your ploy to act uninterested was agreeable to me, but it worked. Seems Captain Ford is more taken by you. Bravo, dear girl.” She clapped and then continued talking without waiting for a response. “Wouldn’t it be lovely to have him as a husband? I can imagine it seems unbelievable to you. Such a handsome man and a hero, too.”
“I wasn’t acting, Mother. I do not want to go for a drive with that man.” Grace hesitated when her mother’s mouth fell open and her hand went to her chest. “He may be attractive, but I find he’s also arrogant and a bore. I detest men who have to sell themselves. A true man doesn’t have to do so. People automatically know his virtues.”
“Grace Dawson, are you insane? He is a handsome, attentive, well-mannered and wealthy bachelor. You cannot hope to do better in this town.”
“For goodness sakes, Mother. It’s not like I need any money or to be rescued. I can do well on my own.”
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