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Authors: Stacy Henrie

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Historical, #Sagas, #General

A Hope Remembered (12 page)

BOOK: A Hope Remembered
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“Have you asked Bess?”

“Not outright.” Nora folded her arms against her sweater, though the sun still shone. “She’ll start to talk about Eleanor, then suddenly go silent. I know she’s hiding something, but I can’t figure out what or why.”

Her distress brought an anxious feeling to Colin’s gut. He didn’t like seeing her so troubled. While the comparisons to Eleanor might be a way to divide Nora from the villagers, he wouldn’t use them against her. Not when he’d vowed to be her friend. He would find some other way to persuade her to move from the sheep farm.

“Have you searched the cottage for some kind of journal or diary?” he offered. “Perhaps Eleanor kept one.”

“That’s an excellent idea.” A smile graced her face once more. “The bookcase in the parlor is full of books. I might find something there.”

They crossed the bridge and headed up the road toward Nora’s lane. Colin placed his hands inside his pockets. If he could pretend for a moment his father’s plans for the hotel didn’t exist, he could admit to being closer to happiness than he’d been in a very long time. The sun cheerfully lit up the green fields, the trees, and the lake, evidence that the world refused to let melancholy have its way today. He began to whistle Christian’s favorite hymn, the one they’d practiced first in rehearsal.

“Shall I pretend I don’t hear you?” Nora asked, her tone playful.

“Hear what?” he countered with feigned innocence.

She laughed and turned to look at the lake. Colin whistled a few more bars as he studied her profile openly. What would Christian think of Nora Lewis? He certainly would have agreed with Colin about her being pretty. He would have also liked her kindness, her strength, her humor, but most of all, her faith. That was a quality she and Christian shared.

The time in the church had clearly affected more than his mood because he felt compelled to suddenly ask, “Do you believe the words of that song?”

“What?” Nora pulled her gaze from the lake to look at him.

“The song we sang first. All those ideals about God being near, even in darkness and sorrow?”

Her nod held conviction. “Don’t you?”

Colin kicked at a rock. “My brother certainly did. Up to the day he and his plane were shot up by some German pilot.”

Silence met his embittered words. He’d shocked her. Colin cleared his throat to apologize, but Nora spoke first.

“You think his faith did him little good?”

Once again her uncanny ability to strike at the heart of his thoughts caught him off guard. He trained his eyes on the road ahead, instead of on her earnest face. “Perhaps.”

“Was he happy, up until his death?”

He considered the question. Christian had always been more serious and reserved than Colin, but he’d seemed happy. “I believe so.”

“Do you think any of that came from his faith?” she gently prodded.

Colin frowned. Was she trapping him into an answer? He thought back to the war. Christian had often read his Bible when they weren’t flying, and before they’d left for France, he’d enjoyed discussing spiritual things with the Larksbeck pastor. But had it made him happier? Colin wasn’t sure. There had always been a quiet confidence about Christian, despite the expectations and pressure of being baronet someday—something Colin envied, then and now. Was his brother’s confidence born of his faith?

“I’ll concede his faith
may
have had something to do with his happiness.” She wouldn’t get more of an agreement than that.

Her silence implied acceptance of his answer.

“Do you think it was God’s will he died?” The question, one Colin had wrestled with since Christian’s death, was out before he could jerk it back.

Would Nora give him a trite response, as others had? Colin tensed, his hands curling into fists within his pockets, as he waited for her answer. Quiet stretched between them. Perhaps no answer would be better than a hackneyed one.

Nora motioned to the blue sky filled with wispy white clouds. “When you are up there, in your aeroplane, how different is your perspective from being on the ground?”

“There’s no comparison.” He eyed the sky, thinking of his last flight over the Lake District the day before. Elmthwaite Hall, which seemed so large and monumental from the ground, faded to the size of a doll’s house when he was high above the valleys and mountains.

“I don’t believe it was God’s will for any of those soldiers to die in the war.” Nora stopped walking and turned to face him. Colin stilled to a stop as well. Unshed tears glittered in her blue-green eyes. Was she thinking of Tom Campbell again? “War is not something God condones, Colin, but men must be allowed to choose what they will make of their lives—good or evil. He cannot rob them of that.”

She brushed at the corners of her eyes, then lifted her chin. “While I don’t believe God wanted Tom or Christian to die, I do believe He has greater perspective than I do. Just like a pilot in his plane, who sees a much different picture than what we can from the ground.”

Her gaze fixed intently on his, penetrating past his usual defenses of apathy and bitterness, straight to his heart. “When we go through heartache and loss, it’s our right and challenge to discover what God wants us to do and become from those experiences.” The resolve shining on her face only enhanced her beauty. “
That
is His will. To help us catch a glimpse of the wider, bigger perspective. To recognize and rejoice in those moments when He reaches down and compensates our losses.”

The heartfelt words struck Colin with the force of a bullet, cutting through his doubt and anger and stunning him to silence. Was this what Christian had understood and lived? Had his faith given him greater courage?

“I didn’t mean to offend.” Nora glanced away. “I suppose I feel strongly about understanding God’s will because I’ve dealt with losing three people I love very dearly.”

Colin waited until she looked his way again before he spoke. “You didn’t offend, Nora.” On the contrary, she’d voiced her thoughts with compassion and sincerity. A desire to reach out and cup her face nearly overpowered him. To stop himself, he faced forward, away from her. “So is that how you see your sheep farm? As a compensation from God?”

He caught sight of the smile that creased her lips. “He’s given me a chance for a new start here, and I’m grateful for it.”

Renewed guilt rendered him unable to respond. How could he rob her of that new start? Was his father’s plan worth such a price?

Colin fell into step beside her as they continued up the road. A memory from his childhood, one he hadn’t recalled in years, pushed its way to the front of his mind.

He and Christian had been out hunting. Christian had bagged a nice-sized bird, but Colin hadn’t shot a thing. Before returning to the house, he stopped to pick his mother a bouquet of wildflowers, so he would have something to show for all the time spent sloshing through the mud and trees.

Near the stables, he found Sir Edward exclaiming over Christian and the “fine bird.” Colin hurried up to show them his own gift, but his father’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“When are you going to get your head out of the clouds, boy? Picking flowers instead of shooting?” Sir Edward shook his head in disgust. “It’s a good thing your brother here is going to inherit or you’d surely bring Elmthwaite to its knees with all your foolish ideas.”

Colin stalked away, throwing the silly flowers in the rubbish bin as he passed it. Later his father had muttered a quick apology, likely the result of Christian’s explanation. But the hurt had already embedded itself inside Colin. He would never live up to his father’s expectations because he would never be Christian.

“Are you all right?”

Nora’s voice broke through the painful recollection. Colin blew out a breath, attempting to ease the tension radiating through him.

“Splendid,” he said with an air of nonchalance. Years of practice had made it easy to disguise his true feelings. “Just thinking how I shall stay awake during the services tomorrow. Maybe a jab to the ribs?”

Nora studied his face for a moment, as though trying to perceive his real thoughts. Colin kept his expression neutral. “If you come,” she said at last, “I promise to wake you, but only when it’s our turn to sing.”

He cracked a smile. The weight of the past didn’t feel quite as heavy when he was with Nora. Too bad he would have to sacrifice her friendship to save his home and keep his promise to Christian. That didn’t mean, however, he couldn’t enjoy every minute he spent getting to know her. And he planned to do just that.

N
ora brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes with the back of her gloved hand, then hoisted the next rock onto the stone wall. Patching the barbed wire fences back home in Iowa now seemed a simple task by comparison.

After much persuasion on Nora’s part, Jack had finally given up insisting he mend the walls himself and showed her how to fix the few crumbling spots. Nora appreciated his help and advice these last six weeks since she’d come to Larksbeck, but she still chaffed at his desire to do everything for her.

She positioned the outer-facing rock into place and stepped back to eye her work. This spot was beginning to look as straight and even as the rest of the dry-stone wall. Shading her eyes, she glanced up at the sun. The July morning was proving to be pleasant and only a few white clouds dotted the sky. Still, she was grateful she’d put on her rubber boots—or “wellies” as Bess had said they were called. Hopefully the sunshine would dry out the mud from the last heavy rainstorm.

Her gaze wandered to the few ewes and their twin lambs grazing on the other side of the green field. In less than two weeks, the farmers would gather their sheep from the fell for shearing. Nora was counting down the days until the event. Though the villagers continued to be friendly to her, she still didn’t feel as though she belonged yet. Surely after the shearing, though, she’d be accepted as one of them and not feel so much like a guest, playacting at being a sheep farmer.

A movement near the gate drew her attention. She looked over to see Jack striding across the field toward her. He, too, had on work gloves and wellies.

“Morning,” she called as he came closer.

He nodded in greeting and studied the stone fence. Nora had a sudden urge to block her work from his scrutinizing gaze. He may be an expert at walling, as he’d informed her, but she didn’t think her efforts paltry either.

“What brings you out here today?” she asked in a friendlier tone than she felt. “Does Bess need something?”

“No. I’m here to help you.”

“Help me?” Nora raised her eyebrows in doubt. Didn’t he really mean do it
for
her?

Jack rolled his eyes as though he could read her thoughts. “I’ve learned my lesson not to do it for you, though you might want to reconsider. Take these stones here…” To Nora’s disbelief, he stepped around her and removed two of the rocks she’d carefully set into place. “They aren’t going to work this way.”

Nora forced a long breath through her nose as he repositioned the stones and reached down for a third.

“Well, come on,” Jack said, an uncharacteristic note of teasing in his voice. “I told you I’m not going to do it for you. Pick up a rock, lass.”

Nora shook her head with equal amusement and annoyance, but she bent down and hoisted another stone. Jack indicated where to place it. Though she wished she was doing the task alone, she wouldn’t begrudge the extra set of hands—or expertise. Things would go much faster with both of them walling.

After a few minutes of getting in each other’s way, Nora had the idea to form a brigade of sorts. She would pass the stones to Jack and he would situate them properly on the wall. At first he balked at the plan, insisting on doing the lifting. But Nora reminded him that, unlike her, he knew better how and where to place the rocks. Besides, she pointed out, the stones weren’t too heavy. At last, he relented.

They spoke little as they worked, which suited Nora fine. Conversation didn’t come as easily with Jack as it did with Colin. She concentrated on lifting the rocks, placing them into Jack’s hands, then stooping for the next. After a time, her arms and neck grew warm from the exercise. She paused long enough to remove her sweater and place it on another section of the wall. When she turned, she caught Jack staring at her. A blush filled her cheeks and she hurried to hide it by picking up another rock. She wasn’t blind to his lingering gazes, but she felt nothing more than friendship for him. She could only pray he wouldn’t be hurt by her lack of romantic interest in him.

By the time the sun had climbed higher, they were well over halfway done. Nora offered to get them something to eat. While Jack continued to work, she went inside and gathered food for a lunch outdoors. When she returned to the field, they took their seats on the grass, their backs against the stone wall.

“It’s a lovely day,” Nora said, shutting her eyes and turning her face toward the sun’s rays. She actually felt warmed through today, something she hadn’t experienced in weeks. The cool, wet weather always seemed to penetrate straight through her clothes, chilling her even during the day.

Jack grunted in agreement. So much for starting a conversation.

“Tell me more about the shearing.” Nora opened her eyes and took another bite of her sandwich.

“All of the farmers around Larksbeck spend the week going to each other’s farms to shear the sheep. There’ll be a competition for the fastest shearer. I won last year and two years in a row before I left for France.” His blue eyes lit up as he spoke. “All the mums and daughters cook up a real nice spread of food at each farm. Then when all the sheep have been sheared, there’s a dance in the village. If the weather holds, it’ll be outside. If it rains, we’ll squeeze into the Blea Crown.”

“It sounds exciting. I’m very much looking forward to it.”

Jack studied his sandwich. “Will you save me a dance that night?”

The morsel of food in Nora’s mouth felt suddenly too large. She swallowed hard. Though she didn’t wish to give him false hope, she could at least accept his offer of a dance. “I’d be honored to dance with the reigning shearing champion.”

“I’m a wrestling champion, too, mind you,” he added before digging into his sandwich again.

Nora nearly choked with laughter. Jack was a hard worker but not very modest about his skills. Once they’d finished their meal, she took the leftover lunch things into the kitchen, then returned to the field to help Jack. The sun began slipping behind gray clouds by the late afternoon and soon disappeared altogether. Nora put on her sweater once more.

She guessed the time to be three or four o’clock when Jack secured the last rock into place. Together they stood back to view their handiwork. A deep feeling of pride filled Nora at seeing the tidy, perfectly flush stone wall.

“Now that’s walling done right.” Jack removed his cap and ran a hand through his wavy red hair.

“It looks perfect.” She smiled up at him.

“Glad I came to help you then?”

“Very much.” And she meant it. “Why don’t you come in and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.”

“You’re sounding more British every day.”

Nora laughed at the compliment and did her best to ignore the appraising look on Jack’s face. They headed across the field at the same time a familiar figure walked around the corner of the cottage.

“Colin.” Nora lifted her hand to catch his attention. She sensed more than saw Jack stiffen beside her. The two men had barely acknowledged each other in public since the awkward moment weeks ago when Jack had entered her kitchen to find Colin standing there without his shirt on.

Colin waved back, though he remained by the cottage instead of entering the field. Nora noticed he carried something brown and moving in his arms. He’d been coming over several times a week with Perseus so the three of them could go for walks, but to her disappointment, she didn’t see the dog around today. Even if Perseus wasn’t hers exactly, she felt as if she still owned a dog with how much she saw of him.

Opening the gate, she let herself and Jack out of the field. “Where’s Perseus?” she asked as she secured the gate.

“I left him home,” Colin answered, “but I brought another friend along.” He hoisted the wriggling bundle in his arms. It was a puppy.

“What a darling.” Nora removed her gloves and hurried over to rub the puppy’s head and ears. It playfully licked her hand. “Where did you get it?”

“Mr. Green’s dog had pups a couple of months ago.” Colin leaned over the puppy to add in a low voice, “I believe our Perseus is the sire.”

Nora chuckled. “Is that so?” She ruffled the puppy’s ears. “That’s a lot to live up to, little one, when you have a father like that.”

“I’m sure you’ll teach her all she needs to know.” Colin transferred the puppy into Nora’s arms. The little dog began covering her chin with slobbery kisses.

“What do you mean?”

A mischievous smile lifted the corners of Colin’s mouth, making Nora’s stomach flutter despite the many times she’d told herself they were only friends. “She’s yours, Nora.” He tucked his hands into their customary spot inside his pockets. “I know you miss Oscar, so when I heard Green was ready to find homes for the puppies, I picked one out for you.”

Nora stared into the big brown eyes of the dog. The puppy was hers to keep? So many nights she’d woken up and reached out to rub Oscar’s fur, only to remember he was back in Iowa with Tom’s family.

Colin shifted his weight. “If you’d rather pick one out yourself…”

On impulse, she went up on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his cheek. His bristled jaw smelled nicely of soap and spice. “She’s perfect, Colin. Thank you…thank you so much.”

Embarrassed to meet his eye, she hid her face by nuzzling the puppy’s soft fur with her nose. “Let’s take her inside. You can come, too, Jack,” she called over her shoulder. “I did promise tea.”

Colin moved beside her as she carried the puppy through the back door of the cottage. “We’ll get you some water and us some tea,” she informed the dog as she set down her gloves and pulled a bowl from the cupboard. She filled the dish with water from the sink and placed it on the floor.

Upon release, the puppy lapped up the water with its tiny pink tongue. Memories of Oscar as a puppy filled Nora’s mind and brought the sting of happy tears to her eyes.

“Green said his wife has already house-trained the dogs, so the pup shouldn’t be any trouble in that regard.” Colin took a seat at the table. “You might want to keep her on a leash, though, or tied up when you go outside, to keep her from wandering off. At least for a few more weeks.” He leaned back in his chair. “Now what will you call her?”

Nora considered the possibilities as she filled a kettle and placed it on the stove. The puppy had finished drinking and was now sniffing at Colin’s shoes beneath the table. “I doubt I’m as knowledgeable about Greek mythology as your brother, but I recall hearing a story once about a female warrior named
Phoebe
.”

As though she understood her namesake, Phoebe dropped her head to the floor, stuck her bottom in the air, and began growling at the broom. Colin chuckled. “I think for a daughter of Perseus, Phoebe will do nicely.”

“Phoebe it is then.” Nora went to the cupboard and pulled out three teacups. “Do you still want tea, Ja—” She twisted around, realizing Jack hadn’t followed her and Colin inside. She peered out the window, but the yard stood empty. “I wonder where Jack went.”

“Probably home. What were the two of you working on?”

“Walling.” She put the extra cup away and removed two saucers. “Without his help, I wouldn’t have finished it today. I need to thank him when I see him again.”

“Did he happen to mention he’s our current shearing champion?” The innocent question held a note of concealed laughter.

Nora was grateful she had her back to Colin so he couldn’t see the smile he provoked. Schooling her expression, she carried the dishes to the table and sat down. “Be nice.”

Colin lifted his hands in mock surrender. “It’s the honest truth. Everyone around here knows it, most of all Jack. He’s a shearing and wrestling champion.” He grinned at her, as though he’d somehow overheard Jack’s boasting.

“And what are you the champion of, Colin?” she shot back in Jack’s defense.

The merriment on his face faded at once, making Nora wish she’d hadn’t asked the question. “Ah.” He picked at a knot in the table, his brow furrowed. “That is the real tragedy. Unlike Jack or Christian, I am not a champion of anything.”

Compassion for him tugged at Nora’s heart. Unable to resist its pull, she reached out and covered his hand with hers. “You’re wrong, Colin. You’re a champion of thoughtfulness.” She motioned to Phoebe, who’d curled up by the back door. “Also in laughter, in manners, and in making me feel more at home here than almost anyone else—even on that first day.”

The black of Colin’s eyes had deepened as he listened. Nora’s cheeks warmed under his silent examination of her face, and unseen energy filled the room. She’d felt this same electrifying feeling, seen that same look of desire on Tom’s face, when he’d kissed her on her sixteenth birthday under the oak tree.

Was it wrong of her to feel this pull of attraction toward Colin, even when Tom had been dead for more than two years? She still felt as though she were dishonoring his memory and the love they’d shared from their youth by her friendship with Colin.

Besides, how well did she even know this man seated across from her? During their time together—on walks, at choir rehearsal, or after church services—she most often encountered the good-humored, carefree Colin. The one who hid his true self behind a ready grin or cynical rhetoric. There were times, though, when he allowed her glimpses into his heart. She cherished those moments, and yet she feared peering too closely, afraid of what she might find about herself there.

Colin could never pursue a romantic attachment with her, not as an heir to Elmthwaite Hall and his father’s title. Opening her heart to him would only land her right back where she’d been when she lost Tom—heartbroken and alone.

The hiss of the kettle rescued her from her convoluted thoughts and kept her from dwelling on what Colin’s intense gaze might mean or why the touch of his hand under hers felt so right and comforting. Nora jumped up, nearly upsetting her chair in her hurry. Ignoring a chuckle from Colin, she busied herself with pouring the steaming liquid and placing a single tea bag into each cup.

By the time the tea was ready, Colin was well into describing his most recent flight in his aeroplane, and the atmosphere in the warm kitchen had returned to normal. Nora sipped her tea as she listened, her glance continually wandering to Phoebe where she slept by the back door. How wonderful to have a dog nearby again. A feeling of contentment washed over her, and for the first time since coming to Larksbeck, she felt a sense of home.

BOOK: A Hope Remembered
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