Kicking at a pebble, Colin maintained his unhurried pace as he scowled at the road ahead. Why had he felt compelled to redeem himself yesterday? His comments to Jack Tuttle, while not exactly friendly, hadn’t been hostile either and certainly didn’t warrant having to attend choir rehearsal as penance. He’d only sought to put the younger chap into his place after learning how comfortable Jack was becoming in Nora’s company.
Guilt simmered within him at the thought. Jack wasn’t the only one getting too comfortable. The young farmer hadn’t been the one who’d nearly kissed Nora in the kitchen yesterday. At least Colin hoped Jack hadn’t. His glare deepened at the possibility, though he knew he had no right to be jealous. Unlike himself, Nora had the freedom to choose whom to love and marry.
He’d almost ruined his father’s plan to save the estate by confessing the whole thing to Nora yesterday. Then there’d been his other moment of weakness when he’d been caught up in contemplating her full lips and what they might feel like to the touch. She’d seemed willing to let him kiss her, at least at first.
Before either one of them could make that mistake, though, Nora had leapt away from him, her blue-green eyes full of unexplained panic. Not that it mattered. However attractive Colin found her, however much he was quickly coming to crave her company, she wouldn’t be staying. She would eventually leave and take his heart with her if he wasn’t careful.
Their walk around the lake after the near-incident in the kitchen had given him a chance to clear his head and get to know her better. They’d talked some more about her farm back in Iowa and her parents. Her account of life there was liberally peppered with references to her deceased fiancé.
If Colin had thought her constant talk of Tom Campbell would serve as a greater reminder that Nora wasn’t and never would be his, he’d been wrong. Each mention of her former beau stirred a flicker of disappointment and envy in his gut. It was almost a relief when their walk ended.
But now he had to see her again, and the problem was, he wanted to—very much.
Colin stabbed a hand through his hair. Life had been less complicated before the redheaded American had moved in down the lane. Flying his biplane and dodging his father’s expectations had been his main pursuits. Now, because of Nora, he’d be stepping into a church for the first time since Christian’s death.
Nerves drained his mouth of moisture. Why did he feel as if he were about to face an entire squadron of German planes single-handedly?
Well, not single-handedly. He lifted his head to see Nora waiting for him at the end of her lane. She raised a hand in greeting as he approached.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” Her tone was teasing.
“A gentleman never breaks his word, Nora.” His comment inspired the laugh he’d hoped for, though the words tasted bitter on his tongue. He wasn’t being gentlemanly by almost kissing her—not when he planned to persuade her to leave.
They started in the direction of Larksbeck. “If you hadn’t come soon, I was thinking of going up to the house and collecting you myself…” She threw him a small smile. “Though I suspected I might run into trouble with your butler again.”
Despite his anxious thoughts, Colin couldn’t help chuckling. “Martin can be a bit of a watch dog, but he’s also loyal.”
“What’s it like having all those servants around to do your bidding?” He sensed no judgment behind her question, only curiosity.
“Until I went to Oxford and later to France, I didn’t know any different.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and propelled another pebble forward with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll admit it was a bit odd at first, not to have Gibson or Martin around—Christian and I took a lot of ribbing for being the sons of a baronet. But we learned to manage. After a while, I found I rather liked being on my own.”
“Was it hard returning to that sort of life? After the war?”
Her perceptive question pleased him, but still he hesitated answering. Christian had always been the one who understood him growing up, the one he could truthfully confide in. Flying together in the war had meant having someone else to share every horrible experience, every guilt-filled moment. Colin had been able to cope because Christian was living through the same hell he was.
After Christian’s death, there was no longer someone who knew him so well to talk over things. Colin had yet to verbalize to another living soul how the war and the death of his brother had changed things for him. Could Nora possibly understand? He recalled what she’d told him regarding her parents and her fiancé. Unlike most, she might be able to comprehend how his life had been altered. Her own had been greatly transformed, too.
Nora frowned at his silence, her eyes downcast. “You don’t have to answer.”
Colin shook his head. “I don’t mind.” Still, he had to pause further to formulate his thoughts, thoughts left too long unspoken. “If Christian had lived, I believe I would have looked forward to returning here. I’d always been allowed a bit more freedom than him.”
“But his death changed that?”
“Yes…it did.” The grief squeezed at his throat, like a hand clamped around his neck, intent on strangling the life from him. He coughed to dislodge the emotion and drive it back to the recesses of his heart.
“I’m sorry, Colin.” Nora stopped him with a hand to his arm. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He instinctively knew she meant more than Christian’s death.
Fresh regret riddled his thoughts. He might not like the direction his life had taken since the war, but at least he had parents and a bevy of servants. Nora had no one.
As he peered into her blue-green eyes, full of sincere compassion, he vowed to keep his word to be her friend. He must still go along with his father’s plans for the hotel, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do all in his power to somehow help Nora.
Colin reached for her hand and studied the long, gloveless fingers. Tiny freckles dotted her skin. He ran his thumb over them. “Shall we get to it then?” he asked, lifting his head.
Nora’s gaze widened. “W-what do you mean?”
He bit back a smile. She might deny it all she wanted, but she wasn’t completely immune to his attentions. “To choir rehearsal.”
“Oh…right.” She slipped her hand from his and started walking—quickly.
With a low chuckle, Colin easily matched his stride with hers. They covered the remaining distance to the village in silence.
When the stone walls and bell tower of the church came into full view, Colin slowed his pace. Would he be mocked for stepping inside? Would the ancient rocks crumble around him in protest? He hadn’t entered the building since the Sunday before he and Christian had left for the war. Pastor Randolph had given a sermon that day on trusting in God. A subject Colin couldn’t claim expertise in, especially given that communication between him and the Lord had been relatively nonexistent for years.
Nora opened the door and waited. “You’re coming in, right?”
He swallowed to bring moisture to his dry mouth. His hands, inside his pockets, felt clammy, his stomach sick. He felt worse than he had his first day flying. If it were anyone else asking…But he couldn’t refuse the beautiful woman watching him with concern.
Forcing his feet to move once more, he gave her a deceivingly casual smile. “What have I said, Nora? Always a…”
“Gentleman,” she supplied with an amused shake of her head. “Then come along, Mr. Ashby. We don’t want to be late.”
He held the door for her and followed her inside. Warm air and the cheery glow of lamplight greeted him as he made his way down the aisle behind Nora.
Mr. Bagley, the grocer and choir director, stepped away from the knot of people gathered near the small pipe organ and greeted Nora with a smile. When the old man’s gaze alighted on Colin, his jaw sagged. “Mr. Ashby?”
“I’ve enlisted some help, Mr. Bagley.” Nora shot Colin a look that bordered on pride. Had she sensed how much he dreaded this?
The old man recovered his shock. “Welcome, young man. We’re pleased to have you.”
Colin wordlessly tipped his head in acknowledgment. The other singers from the village eyed him with blatant curiosity. Just as he was beginning to squirm under their scrutiny, Mr. Bagley passed out hymnals and announced it was time to start. He directed the singers to their different spots near the organ. Colin took his place on the bottom row, while Nora went to stand at his far right on the top row.
As Mrs. Smith, the apothecary’s wife and church organist, began playing the instrument with gusto, Colin shifted backward and peered over his shoulder at Nora. He caught her eye and raised his eyebrows, indicating the door at the opposite end of the church. Perhaps he could still make a run for it.
She lifted her hymnal and mouthed the words a gentleman. Colin threw her a feigned scowl. He’d rather be anywhere else at the moment. Nora returned her attention to the book in her hands, but Colin caught the trace of her dimple. She was trying not to laugh. Her amusement invoked his. He coughed to cover his own chuckle.
The notes of the song penetrated his thoughts. He recognized the tune, even before reading the title printed on the open page in front of him. “Nearer, My God, to Thee.” His mother’s—and Christian’s—favorite hymn. He gave another cough, not to disguise his humor this time but to ease the assault of memories. In his distraction, he missed the opening cue from Mr. Bagley.
Colin easily found his place in the song and joined his voice with the other four men standing beside him. Two of them looked to be middle-aged or older, while the other two had to be in their late teens. Colin couldn’t recall any of their names, though their faces all seemed familiar.
With his mind elsewhere, he struck a wrong note. He cringed inwardly with embarrassment. It had been such a long time since he’d sung, especially with others. He needed to concentrate. Doing his best to block out everything but the music, Colin kept his eyes focused on the words and notes of the second verse.
Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
darkness be over me, my rest a stone;
He could relate to this stanza. Since Christian’s death, he had often felt darkness clouding his days and his future. Like a wanderer, he struggled to find some purpose, some usefulness to his life, that wasn’t orchestrated or mandated by his father.
Yet in my dreams I'd be
nearer, my God, to Thee.
Only when he flew his plane did he feel any amount of freedom or hope. Might that be God manifesting Himself in his life?
Colin stopped singing to listen to the harmony around him. Though the mixture of singing voices blended well, he could still pick out a lovely soprano voice among the other parts. He twisted to glance up at Nora again. Her gaze was fastened on something across the church, her lips parted as she sang.
As he watched, she looked down at him. Her eyebrows rose in silent question. Colin shook his head in answer. He’d given his word; he wouldn’t bolt, even if he felt horribly out of place. She paused, in singing, to bestow a full smile on him. Flying wasn’t the only time he felt freedom. That was how he felt around Nora.
A look from Mr. Bagley drew his attention back to the song. Colin resumed his part, singing it with no trouble this time. The group worked their way through several more hymns before Mr. Bagley declared the rehearsal over.
After receiving a handshake and an expression of thanks from the old man, Colin exited the church with Nora. He blinked in the unexpected sunshine outside.
“What did you think?” she asked as they strolled through the village.
Colin pretended to frown. “It was every bit as horrible as I’d imagined.” He couldn’t show his enjoyment of the singing too easily.
“I see.” Nora gave a thoughtful nod. “So that was a look of horror I saw on your face earlier.”
Colin chuckled—she’d called his bluff. “Only a week here, and you’re already as mocking as a court jester. What will several months do to you?”
She blushed. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”
He stopped her with a hand to her elbow and a finger to her mouth. “I’m only teasing, Nora. I enjoy your ribbing…” Her lips felt warm and subtle beneath his touch, just as he’d imagined yesterday. “Quite a lot actually…” Would her mouth taste every bit as sweet as he hoped?
Her eyes widened as he continued to stare down at her. What had they been talking about?
“Morning, Mr. Ashby, Miss Lewis,” a feminine voice called out.
Colin released Nora straightaway and turned to see Mrs. Bagley hanging wash on her clothesline. “Morning, ma’am.” He tipped his head in politeness.
Had she observed the intimate moment between him and Nora? What had possessed him to touch her lips, and in the middle of Larksbeck?
He began walking again, Nora silently striding along beside him. If he meant to follow through with his father’s demands—and he did mean to—he must avoid physical contact with Nora. It was much too distracting…and enjoyable.
“What time is church tomorrow?” he asked, as much for the information as to end the strained quiet between them.
“Nine o’clock. Why?”
Colin kept his gaze focused straight ahead. “I suppose I ought to show up for the actual performance. Bagley will be furious if I don’t.”
Nora reached out as if to touch his sleeve, but she lowered her hand to her side again. Good, Colin thought. She needs to keep her distance, too. But he couldn’t completely ignore the slash of disappointment that cut through him at the absence of her feminine touch.
“That would be wonderful, Colin.”
“I’m not promising to make this a habit.”
“I understand.” She shot him a look from the corner of her eye. “Thank you for coming, and not just for the singing. I think everyone was so surprised to see you, they forgot all about comparing me to Eleanor Lewis.”
At last a topic he could discuss with ease. “Does that bother you?”
Nora lifted her shoulders in a shrug, but tension clouded her expression. “Sometimes it feels as though I ought to know her, since we’re clearly alike. But I knew so little about my relatives here in England.”
“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.