Noah (2 page)

Oregon

Noah Deardon pulled the hat from his head as he
set a handful of wildflowers he’d clumsily tied with a ribbon down at the base
of the stone marker where Persephone’s body had been laid to rest. He stood
back and smiled his hello. Today made five years since his sickly bride had
been consumed with the fever and had passed into her unearthly rest.

They’d only been married three short days, but
he’d known the woman nearly his whole life. Persephone Whittaker had been one
of his best friends, and while he’d never felt more than friendship for her, he
hadn’t been able to say no when she’d pleaded with him to not let her die a
spinster.

He hung his head.

“You’d like this place, Seph.” He looked up and
out over the countryside with its wide river and abundant trees surrounding the
meadow where they’d played as children, and watched as the swirling clouds took
on darkening hues of purple and grey.

A crack of lightning split the sky. Apollo
whinnied and pranced in place.

Noah returned his hat to his head and with one
last nod at the grave, sprinted over to his growingly anxious mount.

“I know, boy. We’re leaving.”

He made it back to the ranch just as the storm
cloud sitting above the homestead broke and fat pellets of rain began to fall.
He hurried to the barn and dismounted, heaved open the doors, and led Apollo
inside. Though it was still early evening, the sky had grown dark and menacing.

Noah heaved the saddle from his horse’s back
and hung the tack on its appropriate nail. Normally, the methodic pounding of
the rain against the barn roof offered soothing relief from his troubles. But tonight,
a feeling of unease grew in the pit of his belly. As he brushed Apollo’s
beautiful black mane, he chuckled to himself at how far his family had come in
the last ten years. After their eldest brother, Henry, died unexpectedly after
being thrown from the wild stallion he’d been attempting to break, they’d
nearly lost everything. But now, things were different.

Their once struggling horse ranch had
transformed into one of the most successful cattle ranches in the Northwest.
His smile slowly faded as he reached into the bushel at the far edge of the
work table and pulled out an apple, holding it out for the horse.

When Apollo greedily lapped it up, Noah laughed
out loud, then reached into the bushel to retrieve one for himself. After a few
attempts at finding one that wasn’t covered in bruises, he tossed it up into
the air, caught it, and stepped out into the growing cold. He shoved the doors
shut, water streaming from the brim of his hat, and strode toward the house.

He paused as he looked up into the warm scene
framed neatly by the square kitchen window. His brother, sister-in-law, and
their four little ones gathered around the dinner table, aglow with the
flickering lights of several lanterns they had fashioned as a chandelier that
dangled from the ceiling.

Jonah, his older brother and benefactor of the
ranch, stood just below the lights with a grin spread wide across his face as
he pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her smack on the mouth. The
children’s giggles seeped through the walls of the house and a smile returned
to Noah’s face.

It’s time.

He dipped his head in confirmation.

What he would do next with his life escaped
him, but change hung thick in the air. He’d already been at the ranch too
long—even though there was no question he would always be welcome. He itched
for something more. Something…someone he could call his own.

Noah shook his head and with a whistle on his
lips started up the front porch stairs, no idea how he would break the news to
his brother and the rest of the family. Whistling seemed to help him sort
things out.

Clank.

He froze. His eyes darted back to the kitchen window
where he could still see Jonah and his young family busily working on setting
the table for supper. Gabe, his father, wasn’t due back from Montana for
another month, so who would have need of the smaller carriage? There were only
a couple of stalls in there, generally used by Jonah’s and Emma’s mounts. He
glanced at the bunkhouse where all the hands would be holed up for the night.
Several of them had been talking about a game of cards when he’d left for the
meadow, but nothing stirred or appeared out of place.

It was just the horses
, he dismissed his
concern and turned back for the house.

Clank.

There was no mistaking it this time. Someone lurked
in the carriage stable across the yard. He eyed the outbuilding that sat just a
few yards from the house as he held his breath in an attempt to listen more
closely. The low murmur of a man’s voice carried indistinctly on the evening’s
light breeze, barely audible through the clatter of raindrops striking various
surfaces around the yard.

Rustlers had been running rampant in the last
few months and getting bolder with their attacks. By the sound of it, there was
just one person moving around in there, but if he was wrong, the consequences
could be disastrous. If he could get a jump on the thief, he’d be able to handle
the situation without incident. He knew he should go get Jonah, but by the time
they returned, the miscreant could be gone with at least a pony or two.

One of the horses whinnied from inside the
stable and Noah reached for the pistol at his hip.

No gun.

Blast!

Noah padded across the yard, through the rain
and puddles, toward the noise. He gingerly wrapped his fingers around the wooden
handle of a shovel leaning against the outside wall of the stable. Grateful it
hadn’t been put away, he stepped toward the open door and waited, his shoulder
nudged up against the frame and his back all but touching the wood.

Footsteps crunched against the gravelly dirt.

Noah raised the shovel in the air. When a dark figure
appeared in the doorway, he swung, but the culprit ducked before the large
spade tool found its mark.

Clang!

The metal blade glanced off of the iron strips
that secured the door. Before he could recover, the man had grabbed a hold of
the handle and pulled hard, throwing an unrelenting Noah in a circle, sending
him spinning through the mud as he stumbled, refusing to release his grip on
the spade.

Once he’d regained his footing, Noah wrapped
both hands around the wooden stick and yanked back on the tool. He hadn’t expected
it to be relinquished so easily and the overabundant force of his pull caused
it to slip from his grasp and land near the base of the porch steps.

“Blast it all!” he cursed the sliver now
embedded in his palm. He shook off the momentary discomfort, his eyes affixed
on his opponent.

The intruder had fallen onto one knee, likely thrown
off balance by Noah’s unexpected pull. Growling, Noah tackled him from behind,
slamming him face down into the mud, sending his hat flying.

“Noah!” the man yelled, lifting his head, his voice
familiar. “It’s me.”

The hat that had been stripped off the man’s
head caught Noah’s attention as it dangled from the tip of one of Emma’s new
spruce saplings. He recognized the big, black Stetson immediately. In the next
moment, Noah found himself lying on his back, staring up at an unexpected face.

“Levi? What in tarnation are you doing lurking
about in the stable? Come to think of it, what are you doing in Oregon?”

Grunting, his cousin pushed away from him, got
to his feet, and offered his hand. Noah reached up to take it, struggling to stand
upright. Halfway up, his foot slipped out from beneath him, knocking into
Levi’s legs, and while they both scrambled to catch their footholds, they ended
up falling backward into the mud.

After a brief moment, Levi guffawed loudly and
Noah couldn’t help but join in the laughter. A light appeared at the top of the
porch steps and Jonah stepped out onto the veranda with little Auggie in tow.

“Noah? Is that you?”

“Yes,” he called, nearly choking on his
water-drenched amusement. He sputtered at the wet clumps of mud that had
splashed around his mouth.

“And me,” Levi said with a breathy chuckle as
he sat up.

“Who’s ‘Me?’” Jonah asked.

“Me, Levi.”

One look at his cousin, mud splattered all over
his face and his clothes doused in thick layers of the grimy earth, and Noah
starting laughing again. He crawled up onto his knees, then climbed to his feet,
then extended his hand to Levi, who chuckled, gladly accepting the help.

Jonah shook his head and turned back into the
house.

The soaked and muddy men both glanced at each
other and laughed even harder.

“Come on,” Noah said as he slung his arm over
Levi’s shoulders. His cousin mimicked the action, so their arms were woven
behind their heads.

“Oh, wait.” Levi leaned down, slipping their
knot as he reached down to retrieve his hat from the branch of the little tree,
then tightened up again.

Together, they stomped up the stairs only to be
greeted by Emma, whose arms were folded across her chest, one eyebrow
raised—though it was easy to see her struggle to maintain her stern expression or
allow the smile that threatened to break through.

The two men dropped their arms to their sides
and Noah quickly wiped the grin from his face, opened his eyes wide, and
grimaced along with his apology for the filthy state of their clothes. One
glance at Levi and he saw that his cousin had done the same.

After a few moments, the smile won and she
stepped sideways with a sweep of her hand.

“Levi, did you get your horse all taken care
of?” she asked kindly.

He nodded.

“You can barely call that thing a horse. I’m
surprised you made it this far with that mule.” Jonah laughed.

“Never mind him, Levi. I’ve put your things in
the bedroom behind the kitchen.”

“Thank you, Emma.”

“Wait,” Noah stopped at the threshold, “you
knew he was coming and didn’t tell me?”

Emma raised a hand with the smile of hers that
said she was up to something. “Talk to your brother about this one.”

Jonah, what have you done now?

“Levi?” he called after his cousin who was
already halfway to the wash room.

“I’ll bring around some fresh towels.”

“Uncle Noah. Uncle Noah. You’re back,” the
young twins, Maxwell and Gilbert, ran to the doorway, followed closely by their
little brother, Owen, but one look from their mother quelled their enthusiasm.

“Not until he’s all cleaned up,” she said with
an amused shake of her head.

Each of the boys looked appropriately dejected.
Noah shrugged his shoulders. Then, he held up a finger as if remembering
something. He reached into his back pocket and retrieved a small cloth-wrapped
package. The boys’ eyes grew wider as he crouched down and pulled back each
flap of cloth one at a time. He was grateful that the treats he’d purchased in
town hadn’t been smashed to bits in his tousle with Levi. When the last fold revealed
several small sticks of hard candy and a few lollipops, the children squealed
with delight. It turned out that only a few of them had cracked.

“Noah Deardon,” Emma scolded, not quite able to
conceal the smile that tempted her lips. “You’ll spoil their supper.”

He stood up, thrusting them behind his back and
the children all turned to their mother with eyes exaggeratedly wide, their
heads tilted, and tiny hands clasped in front of them.

Emma looked down at them, shaking her head, but
alas, they were graced with another of her smiles as she sighed in defeat. “Oh,
all right. Just this once.”

“Yeah!” they all yelled in unison.

Noah pulled the treats back out from behind him
and fanned them out for the children to see.

“You’re incorrigible.” Emma giggled. Once the
boys had their chosen treat, she turned back into the house, shepherding the children
indoors. She stood at the door and looked back at Noah meaningfully. “Well, get
on with ya, then” she said as she swatted at Noah’s shoulder, then instantly pulled
her hand away, rubbing her fingers together and exhaling sharply with her nose
upturned. “There’s extra soap in the cupboard under the window,” she called
after him.