Introduction
I want to start off by saying that I got the idea for Brother in Blue from a story called, "Letters from Home" by Jwhaler82. I just wanted to write a special note to the author. My story is meant in no way to copy yours. Letters From Home is a great story and it inspired me. Please know I respect your story and its plot. I worked hard to Made Brother in Blue as different as possible from your story. I hope you accept this as a high form of respect and flattery. Your story was great and very heart-warming. Please do not take offense.
Chapter One-Fall
"He loves the fall," Mae thought, sitting near the lake on a few ancient rocks.
"Well…he used to. I'm not so sure if he likes it now."
She laughed silently.
"I guess we're never sure what goes on inside Miles' head."
The lake glistened and shone with a delicate grace that was as old as the hills. Even though the sky was clouding up, it still looked like sun danced on the surface of the gentle, yet stubborn lake.
"What was it that he liked so much?" she asked herself.
"Mamma! Don't you just love it? Look at all the pumpkins!" an eight year-old Miles exclaimed excitedly as he pulled his mother gently down all the rows of pumpkins Tuck had grown that year.
"Oh come on, Jesse! Hurry up! I want you show you my pumpkin, come on!" he cried, tugging his four year-old brother down the rows of plants.
Jesse stumbled and tripped, yelping out of surprise here and there, but he was determined to keep up with Miles.
The mother gasped. "Oh! Miles be gentle!" Mae called after him.
"They'll be all right Mae. Don't worry, Miles is turning out to be a fine older brother," Tuck said as he draped his arm over her shoulders.
Was all he liked the pumpkins?
Or was there something else?
Mae couldn't seem to remember…but she did ask him once.
When he was twelve.
So young, so much more to learn, and he gave such a brilliant answer, at least in Mae's mind he did.
It had been a chilly November day and Mae and Miles were sitting by the lake. Once she asked him what he liked so much about the fall, he shrugged, wiggling a twig between his toes.
"I guess I like it for a few reasons…It's not too hot and it's not too cold. Things change, sure things die, but that's the way things are supposed to be, so they can make room for brand new life…and autumn is the perfect way to open up Christmas. Plus…orange and black look good together."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a pad and a pen.
Blinking tears out of her eyes, she opened up her letter to Miles who was fighting in some distant far off country.
She wrote him about what was going on here, which wasn't a lot.
Tuck's small business was taking off…they might move into a house further into the woods of Treegap.
He was making a Nativity Set for a small family outside of Treegap and he was doing a fantastic job.
She thought about telling Miles about Jesse's prom, but decided she'd let that stay between brothers. It was better that way.
Simpler.
The younger Tuck brother had asked Winnie to go with him yesterday.
Mae smiled.
They made such a wonderful couple.
Mae could see it in Winnie's eyes she loved Jesse more than anything she possessed and she would remind anyone who wanted to hear it twice.
Even though Mae thought, Winnie had made the wrong choice sometimes, drinking from the spring, she let it go because they were both truly happy.
When Winnie and Jesse had first met, Mae could tell Miles had been extremely jealous of what his little brother had.
Jesse had someone who would drink from the spring out of pure love and devotion to him.
Whilst Miles wife had called him a freak, took his children, and left.
Ever since then, there had been no sparkle in Miles' eyes, he didn't find anything interesting.
He was getting too rough around the edges, too tough for his own good.
They all tried to pry him out of that shell in their own way: Mae's comforting reassurance, Jesse's joking around and playing, and Tuck's long knowledgeable lectures, but nothing seemed to work.
Miles went about his life the next eighty or so years as a hardheaded widower who didn't have any beliefs and was convinced that he hated the world, but that was when he met her.
Mae smiled to herself, nearly finishing her letter.
She had to admit it the girl was sweet, sensible, and gorgeous.
The mother looked at the letter in dismay, she was about to close it, but she hadn't said half the things she wanted to.
Like, be careful.
He did need to be careful.
After all…it had happened.
Mae shuttered.
Reminding him about the times at the lake.
Asking him if he missed Mary, though she knew the answer to that.
And that she loved him.
She had said it so much in the past two hundred or so years, she assumed that it was planted in his head as strong as that mop on top of his head.
She soon heard Tuck groan and then there was a crash.
She rolled her eyes.
Her husband probably threw out his back, again.
"Key word being, again," thought Mae solemnly as she climbed off the rock and sealed the letter in an envelope.
Before tucking it back into her pocket, she pulled out the music box from her skirt.
Mae put the blue hat over her head and as she began the slow walk home, she started to sing a melody from her music box.