A Hope Remembered (8 page)

Mr. Bagley moved about the shop with the agility of a much younger man, all the while shooting wide-eyed looks at Nora. She caught Colin watching them and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. He responded with a puzzled shake of his head. He’d never seen the grocer act so affable. As a child, Colin had been rather intimidated by the gruff man who scowled each time Colin came in to buy a piece of candy.

When they returned to the counter, Nora’s basket was nearly overflowing with items. Mr. Bagley rang up the purchases at the cash register, promising to order Nora a new windowpane tomorrow. “It should be here in a week,” he said as she handed him her money.

“Thank you for your help.”

“Do you sing, Miss Lewis?”

Nora appeared a bit taken back by the man’s sudden question, but she answered in the affirmative. “I very much enjoy singing.”

Mr. Bagley beamed. “I remember Eleanor’s beautiful soprano voice. Just what we need. I direct the church’s choir, you see, and we would love to have you join us. We practice Saturday mornings.”

“I’d like that, Mr. Bagley.”

Colin swallowed a groan. The more Nora became a part of life in the village, the less likely she was to want to leave.

“We could do with more male voices, as well.” Mr. Bagley shot a pointed look at Colin, acknowledging him for the first time since he and Nora had entered the shop.

“Do you sing?” Nora spun to face him.

“Not as well as I can fly.”

Mr. Bagley shook his head. “Don’t let him fool you, Miss Lewis. The Ashby boys have sung together since the cradle. Nary a Christmas passed that we didn’t hear them sing at the village celebration.”

Colin fixed his attention on the canned goods lining the shelves behind the man. Memories of singing with Christian flitted through his mind and cut through his heart. Mr. Bagley had failed to mention there was only one Ashby boy now. Colin hadn’t bothered attending the village’s Christmas celebration last year—it hadn’t seemed right without Christian.

He sensed Nora watching him. Did she perceive the pain he concealed behind his carefree demeanor?

“I’ll see if I can persuade him,” she told Mr. Bagley.

The grocer smiled with self-satisfaction at Colin. With great effort, he maintained a neutral expression, instead of the smug grin he wanted to shoot back at the man. Enchanting as Nora may be, she would never convince him to sing, let alone step foot inside a church.

Nora began gathering up her purchases. She clearly had more than she could carry, though she didn’t ask for his assistance.

“Allow me.” Colin removed an armful of items from her grip so she could pick up what was left on the counter. He stacked the loaf of bread on top of the pile and moved to the door. By shifting his load, he managed to free one hand to open the door for Nora.

Mr. Bagley’s cheerful “good day” followed them outside—a far cry from his tone of twenty minutes before. Colin shook his head, amazed and frustrated at both shopkeepers’ reactions to Nora. How was he supposed to convince her she needed to give up the sheep farm if everyone in Larksbeck continued welcoming her with open arms?

“Is there anything else you need?”

Nora glanced around the village. “Not this time.”

Colin called for Perseus as he and Nora set off toward the bridge. The dog scampered past them, eager to explore the road ahead. Colin almost envied the canine’s freedom.

Would he feel freer if he gave up trying to be something he wasn’t, to please his father? If he refused to marry someone like Lady Sophia and stood back while Elmthwaite Hall sank deeper into debt? The possibility was tantalizing, but not when he calculated the cost. His freedom in exchange for Christian’s eternal disappointment and the lost opportunity to make his father proud. No, he wouldn’t trade those.

“Something wrong?”

Nora’s question pulled Colin from his pensive thoughts. He rearranged his frown into a lazy smile. “What did you think of the village?” he asked, sidestepping her inquiry.

“I like it very much.”

“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen either shopkeeper so intent on making a customer happy.”

“Only because they think I look like Eleanor Lewis.” She frowned, her expression troubled. “What do you know about her?”

“She was Old Man Lewis’s daughter, which would make her your father’s cousin.”

“Anything else?” she pressed.

Colin searched his memory for what he’d heard about Eleanor over the years. “I believe she married a chap from the next village over. He died shortly before their daughter was born. Eleanor followed him not long afterward.”

“What happened to the baby?”

“I believe Henry gave her to some relatives to raise as their own.”

“Interesting.” She shivered as though cold, then seemed to brush off whatever had caused her chill. “My father rarely mentioned his relatives in England. He never visited them, though we did get a letter now and then. His father, my grandfather, moved to America as a young man.” Nora shifted her load. “How is Eleanor related to Auntie Bess?”

“Bess is Eleanor’s cousin. Their mothers were sisters.”

She gave a thoughtful nod. “I remember Bess saying something like that…among the other hundred and one things she told me this morning.”

Colin laughed outright at her joke. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity to tease her back, he stopped walking.

Nora continued a few paces more before she turned around. “What?”

“Was that a jest I heard from your lips, Miss Lewis?”

Her cheeks went pink, but she didn’t break eye contact. “Yes, Mr. Ashby, I believe it was.”

“Colin.”

“I’m sorry?”

“If I’m going to carry your groceries all the way home—a first for me, I might add.” He could tell she was trying not to smile. “I think you ought to drop the ‘Mr. Ashby’ and call me ‘Colin’ instead. Makes me feel less foolish,” he added in a feigned tone of annoyance. “If it weren’t for my pride as a gentleman…”

“Colin,” she said as if testing the word on her tongue. Colin instantly regretted his idea. Hearing her feminine and very American voice intone his name gave him more pleasure than he cared to admit. “Then call me Nora, please.”

“I will…Nora.”

Drat.
He liked saying her given name as much as he liked hearing her say his. A change of subject was definitely in order. “What were we discussing before we stopped?”

She shot him a mischievous look. “I believe it was how foolish you feel carrying my groceries.”

Dash it all but she was beautiful, especially with that impish look in her greenish-blue eyes as she spouted off her witty remarks. Why did he want to convince her to leave?

Reminding himself of his duty, his promise, Colin reined in his feelings of attraction and forged up the road. “I remember now. You were maligning poor Bess Tuttle.”

“I wasn’t doing no such—”

“Speaking of dear Auntie Bess. Here comes her oldest son.” The lanky frame of Jack Tuttle moved down the road in their direction. The young man’s timely appearance was both a blessing and a curse. Colin needed some distance from Nora to clear his head, and yet he loathed someone else disrupting their privacy.

“Hello there,” Jack said as the three of them met in the middle of the lane. “I reckon you must be Nora. Me mum told me all about you.” He swept off his woolen cap, revealing his copper hair, and ogled Nora. “I’m Jack Tuttle.”

“The one who’s been watching my sheep?” Nora extended her hand to him. “I certainly appreciate you’re stepping in like that, Mr. Tuttle.”

“Call me Jack,” he said, clasping her hand.

Colin’s jaw tightened when the younger man didn’t release Nora’s grip right away.

“I’m guessing you know Mr. Ashby.” Nora turned to Colin.

“Tuttle,” Colin said with a tip of his head.

“Ashby,” Jack ground out.

Colin suppressed a grin. The chap was still sore over the past, but the arrogant pup had gotten what he deserved. Jack had been entirely too cocky as a teenager. Probably still was, though Colin hadn’t seen much of him since they’d both returned from France. If the dark look in Jack’s blue eyes was any indication, the memories of a certain event were traipsing through his mind at the moment, just as they were through Colin’s.

It had been his and Christian’s last Christmas gathering in the village before leaving to fight. Sixteen-year-old Jack, four years Colin’s junior, had cornered Lizzie Smith beneath the mistletoe. The girl’s distressed look was evident from a distance. Christian would have typically been the one to intervene, but he’d been busy talking to the pastor. Colin couldn’t leave the girl defenseless against Jack’s awkward wooing, so he’d strode over and given Jack a dressing-down on how to win a lady’s affections.

Blustering and red in the face, Jack had stormed off, but he hadn’t retreated far. He still witnessed the rather passionate kiss of gratitude Lizzie bestowed on Colin. His and Jack’s clash that night, and Jack’s anger over not being old enough to fight right away, had sealed his contempt for Colin.

“Let me carry your things, Miss Lewis,” Jack said. All traces of animosity evaporated as he addressed Nora.

“Call me Nora.”

Jealousy tasted bitter on Colin’s tongue. She hadn’t asked him to call her by her first name until today, and yet she’d bestowed the honor on Jack after five minutes.

“Aren’t you headed into the village, though?” Nora asked Jack.

“It can wait. I’d much prefer escorting you back to your cottage.”

Clearly Jack had picked up a thing or two about how to treat a woman since Colin’s long-ago scolding. That knowledge should have impressed Colin, but instead he felt annoyed.

Nora threw him a questioning look. He schooled his irritation to smile rakishly at her and mouth, “A gentleman.” The corners of her lips rose at his teasing, revealing her dimple.

She relinquished her purchases to Jack and the two set off in the direction of her cottage. Colin stayed several paces behind them, though he remained close enough to listen and keep an eye on Jack. Nora plied the younger man with questions about her sheep, which he seemed more than willing to answer in great detail.

“Why don’t I take you up on the fell tomorrow?” Jack offered. “You can see your sheep and get a feel for the land.”

“I’d like that.”

Colin frowned at her exuberant tone. He’d never considered Jack Tuttle competition in any way. Until today.

Nora laughed at something Jack said, making Colin grind his teeth together. He was supposed to be the enigmatic one. And yet…Was it his charm or his title and estate that attracted the ladies more? Nora wasn’t impressed by his wealth or his position, so neither would help him in convincing her to give up her farm. Instead he’d have to get to know her as himself, as a friend. It was a terrifying and intriguing notion.

Nora half listened to Jack’s explanation of the different tasks associated with sheep farming and what time of year they took place. The words wouldn’t stick in her mind, though, because her thoughts were too fixed on Colin walking behind them. She kept remembering the way his dark eyes had watched her intently before Jack had shown up. Or how he’d removed the speck of gravy from her cheek earlier.

That look had the power to make her pulse trip a little faster, the power to make her feel things she’d buried deep. Nora crossed her arms, wishing she were holding her parcels instead of the two men. She wanted something to hold on to, something to keep at bay the vulnerability nibbling at her rational sensibilities.

Guilt accompanied her feelings of weakness. Colin had survived the Great War, thank goodness, but others, like Tom, weren’t so lucky. He was the man she’d promised to wait for, to love, even if she could no longer make good on that promise. She wouldn’t dishonor his memory or his death by harboring feelings for another man. Not yet, at least, and perhaps not ever.

Before she knew it, the three of them were standing in front of the Lewis cottage. Nora didn’t remember turning onto the lane or climbing the low hill. Shaking herself, she collected her things from Jack. She wanted Colin to leave as well, but she couldn’t very well carry everything alone.

“Thanks for your help, Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She was looking forward to climbing the mountain and seeing her sheep for the first time.

Jack shot Colin a guarded look, then nodded at Nora. “I’ll be by to collect you at five. Then we can go straight from the fell to my house for supper. You’re still coming, aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

With a tip of his cap to her and a frown for Colin, Jack tramped back down the lane.

“Let’s bring the groceries through the kitchen door.” Nora led Colin around the side of the cottage to the back. A glance over her shoulder showed his carefree manner had been replaced by a somber one. “Why doesn’t Jack like you?”

Colin stared up at the mountains looming before them. “So you noticed his affability or lack thereof.”

Nora gave him a pointed look, which elicited a chuckle from him. “What happened?”

“The simple story is this. Jack’s girl of six years ago preferred bestowing a Christmas kiss on me than giving one to him.” His shoulders rose and fell with another low laugh. “He’s despised me ever since.”

Nora couldn’t say she blamed the girl. Given a choice between kissing Jack or Colin, she’d pick Colin, too. Her face grew hot at the thought and she busied herself with opening the cottage’s back door to hide her reaction.

“It was entirely unsolicited, I assure you.” He stepped inside after her. “He’s also a bit touchy about not being able to enter the war until two years after Christian and I left, so I wouldn’t mention that one tomorrow either.”

“Just set everything there on the table,” Nora directed.

Colin obliged, then stood back, eyeing the pile on the table. Awkwardness filled the air between them, a first since their meeting the night before.

“I’m grateful—again—for your timely help…Colin.”

“My pleasure, Nora.” His dark eyes lit with a slow smile.

Perseus appeared in the open doorway. Relieved at the distraction, Nora walked over to rub his fur. She would greatly miss his company. “It was nice to have a dog here last night.”