Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (20 page)

“Jeremy,” I whispered, reaching out to take his hand.

“Forgive me. I should never have said that.” He opened haunted eyes, unable to hide his anguish.

“You need to share it with someone. And I like to think we are friends.”

“I can see why Gabriel loves you, Miss Sullivan,” Jeremy said with a faint smile.

“I miss him,” I whispered. “I fear he is never to return to Boston.”

“If he doesn’t, what are you to do?”

“I do not envision living my life alone, away from the man I love.”

He smiled, squeezed my hand and rose to move toward the workbench.

“What are you building?”

“I am practicing carving,” Jeremy said. “I just wish Gabe were here to help me.”

“Did you spend time here with Gabriel before you joined the army?”

“I would come here on afternoons when I had nothing better to do and pester him into teaching me things. I would razz him, saying that what he did was boring, but I was fascinated that he could make beautiful things from pieces of wood.”

“How much did he teach you?”

“Just the basics. I was restless, didn’t want to spend the time on an apprenticeship to become a Master like him, and I wanted to do something different than my brothers.”

“You succeeded.”

“All too well,” Jeremy murmured. “Now I wish I had stayed, with my greatest worry suffering a splinter. Forgive me my impertinence, Miss Sullivan, but I believe I have earned it after answering your questions.” At my quick nod he continued. “If you don’t like being separated from Gabriel, why don’t you do something about it?”

“Things are never as simple as we would like, Mr. McLeod.”

“And never as complicated either. Don’t go twisting things around until you’ve entered the world of the imponderables, as my da would say. Just do the thing that’s in your heart.”

I glanced up to find him studying me the way Gabriel used to. “What really worries you, Miss Sullivan?”

“What if I were to travel there and he no longer wanted me?” At his continued silence, I forged on. “What if … things have happened to change his feelings toward me?”

Jeremy cocked his head to the side, his intense stare nearly unnerving me. “I think you are allowing fear to dictate your actions. And that’s a shame. I’ve never seen Gabe around you. I’ve only read his letters about you. But Rich has, and he told me that he’d never seen our composed, controlled brother as miserable as when he’d thought he’d lost you. And then he’d never seen him as happy as when he was allowed to court you. And I can think of nothing, not even you marrying another man, that would stop him loving you.”

I blinked back tears, flushing at his words. “Thank you.” I fingered the ends of my scarf absently.

“What happened to your neck, Miss Sullivan?” he asked as he moved toward a bench near the rocking chair.

I stopped rocking, watching him with wide eyes. I gripped both sides of the scarf, wrapping it tightly around my neck. “Nothing. Nothing. I should go,” I said, refusing to meet Jeremy’s eyes.

He reached out, steadying me in the chair by holding onto my arms, but also not allowing me to rise. “Are you well, Miss Sullivan?”

“As well as is possible,” I choked out.

“Are you safe, Miss Sullivan?”

“Yes, I am … now.”

“May Richard and I call on you soon?”

“Yes, please,” I rasped as I gripped his hand. “I am now with my aunt and uncle at Russell’s in the South End. Richard knows where it is.”

Jeremy nodded as he continued to watch me. He caressed my arm a moment as though to calm me before helping me to a standing position.

“I hope you call again, Miss Sullivan.”

***

“YOU LOOK TERRIBLE, my girl,” Sophronia intoned as she relaxed on a comfortable lady’s chair in cream-colored damask in her soothing yellow parlor overlooking the Boston Common. I sat on a matching camelback settee gazing into the scene of the mountain glen illuminated by a soft light.

“I’m fine,” I whispered.

“Save that useless twaddle for someone who barely pays you any mind. Like you aunt or stepmother,” Sophie snapped. “I was very disappointed to hear you had left your father’s house last week.”

I jerked to meet her serious gaze, her aquamarine eyes filled with censure. “Sophie, I had to.”

“Of course you did. But what I will never understand is why you didn’t come to me.” She
harrumphed
her displeasure. “I had to learn of your flight during an exceedingly dull tea with your grandmother and Mrs. Wright yesterday.”

I paled at the mention of Mrs. Wright.

Sophie continued to speak. “They seemed to be under the impression that a very important announcement was soon to be pronounced.” She speared me with an even more severe glare. “I thought you were more intrepid than to become caught in their snare, my girl.”

I closed my eyes as I fought memories of that afternoon. “Some snares are impossible to escape.” I met her eyes, for a moment allowing her to see my devastation and despair.

Sophie squinted at me for a moment, and, as she sighed, it was as though her anger evaporated. In its place, I saw a tremendous sorrow. For a moment, the weight of her sadness stripped her of her essential vitality causing her to appear old and helpless. “I see. I see, my girl.” She rose, and I feared she was going to ask me to leave.

“Please, Sophie. Let me explain.”

“There is nothing to explain, Clarissa.” She looked at me with a defiant tilt to her chin, the action banishing the image of an old woman. She strode toward the door and flung it open.

I stood and bowed my head. “I’m sorry, Sophie,” I whispered as I moved to walk past her.

“Where do you think you are going?” She gripped my hand and prevented me from slinking past her. “Sit down this instant.” She put her finger under my chin and made me meet her worried gaze. “Let someone who loves you take care of you.”

I blinked away tears as I nodded. I moved toward the settee and collapsed onto it. I heard Sophie muttering something to her maid, but I could not make out the words. After a few moments Sophie rejoined me, sitting next to me on the settee. The parlor door had been firmly shut behind her.

She leaned toward me, speaking in hushed tones to the point I had to lean in or not hear her. “I fear you have been treated very poorly by some in your life, Clarissa.”

“Yes.”

“And that you now fear there may be an … unfortunate event.” She met my shocked gaze with frankness.

“Yes,” I whispered as tears escaped and trailed down my cheeks.

“From what I understand, from what I have been able to piece together from the few clues you have given me, you still desire a future with your Gabriel. Is this correct?”

I nodded, failing to meet her eyes.

“It is still possible to have a good relationship with a man even after … unfortunate events have occurred.” She took a deep breath before clasping my hand and prying open my fingers. She placed a small sachet into my palm.

“What is this, Sophie?”

“A tea. A potentially potent tea called pennyroyal. One that you must decide if you want to drink. I may be wrong in what I believe was done to you, my girl, but I don’t believe I am. If you desire to go to your Gabriel with piece of mind, I would drink a cup of this tea every morning until your monthly comes.”

I gaped at her, as tears flowed unheeded. “How—?”

“I was married to a physician. Not all aspects of life are savory, my dear. When I began to suspect what had occurred, I badgered one of his old colleagues until he gave me the information I requested. He was none pleased with me, but that is immaterial.” She met my sorrowful gaze with a determined one. “I know what it is to have those around us believe they can take away our choices for us. I want you to continue to have the ability to live the life you want.”

I sobbed, and Sophie enveloped me in her embrace. “You are not alone, my girl. And those of us who truly care for you will not turn away from you.”

“It’s my fault, Sophie.”

“Did you encourage him?”

“No!”

“Then how could this be your fault?”

“I didn’t fight hard enough,” I said.

“How are you to fight off a grown man, my girl? No woman could. Men made up those mythical Amazonians to make themselves feel better as they carry out just such actions as this against us.” Her aquamarine eyes held a fiery glint. “To ensure you feel guilty for their irredeemable behavior.”

“What will Gabriel do?”

“If he loves you, he will treat you with respect and compassion. As any man worthy of you would.”

“I’m so afraid, Sophie.” I gripped the sachet of tea tightly in my hand.

“Don’t let fear dictate your actions. Always know what you desire and do what you must to obtain it. If you don’t know what it is you want, you must not want it very badly.”

CHAPTER 17

GABRIEL WORKED AT HIS BENCH in the Thornton Block, sanding wood. The walls for the individual rooms were up, and he, along with Larry, Morgan and Niall, worked at a feverish pace to complete the carving and finish work. The elaborately carved bar for the saloon was only a quarter completed, and, with every day that passed, the foreman Jeffers became more agitated. However, today Gabriel knew that he did not have the ability to concentrate on carving. His mind was full of the letter he had received yesterday from Jeremy.

I saw Clarissa recently, and she did not look well. She has lost the sparkle that seemed to light her from within, and I worry for her. Has she written you recently about any troubles in Boston?

“Mr. McLeod, you must come quickly. Mrs. Egan has sent for you!” A young man in faded blue overalls with windblown brown hair gasped as he bent over to lean on his knees, exhausted from his run across town.

“Mrs. Egan?” Gabriel asked as he glanced at the clock. Three o’clock. “What is the matter?”

“Sir, I think it best if she explains,” the boy said.

Gabriel looked toward Morgan, Niall and Larry, noticing their interest. “I will be back as soon as possible.”

“We’ll cover for you as long as we can with Jeffers,” Morgan said, his shoulders tensing at the prospect. He raked his hands through his dull blond hair, shaking out wood dust.

“Thanks.”

Gabriel left, striding down Broadway toward a streetcar stop on Main Street that would take him to Centerville. After a ride that lasted only minutes, but which seemed like an hour, Gabriel alit at Platte Street. He could not remember any of the passing scenery as the brick buildings, storefronts and homes blurred together in his agitation.

“Amelia!” he called out as he knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he eased the door open. “Amelia?”

Gabriel entered the house, noting the pile of dishes on the dining room table. He poked his head into the kitchen, finding numerous dirty pots on the stove. Gabriel frowned at the mess as Amelia always kept a tidy house. Just then Nicholas bolted from the back room, throwing himself against Gabriel’s legs.

“Hey there,” Gabriel said as he squatted down to meet Nicholas’s eyes, taking his arms gently into his hands. “Where’s your mother?”

“The mine,” he mumbled out.

“Why’d she leave you behind?”

“I won’t go there! You can’t make me!” He started to scream, trying to break from Gabriel’s now firm grip.

“I will not force you to do anything, Nicholas,” Gabriel soothed. “I need to know why your mother is there.”

“My da is not dead,” he sniffled with a defiant lift of his chin.

All breath left Gabriel in a
whoosh
, and he sat back on his heels for a moment. “God, I hope not,” he breathed, pulling Nicholas in for a tight hug. “Please, God, no.”

He broke the hug to rub away the tears from Nicholas’s cheeks. “I need to be there with your mother. She needs our support, Nicholas.” At Nicholas’s nod, Gabriel scooped him into his arms and walked toward the mine.

A group of women and children stood huddled near the gates. The large gallows frame of the Mountain Consolidated mine gleamed in the late afternoon sun while the small smokestack pumped ash in the sky. A light breeze blew, and the distant mountains were visible through a thin haze of smoke. The gates to the mine yard were closed, and, every time a man inside was visible, a woman yelled at him for information.

Gabriel scanned the crowd, looking for Amelia, finding her sitting on a nearby boulder with baby Anne in her arms, rocking in place. She wore a tattered brown cotton shawl around her shoulders against the chill of a spring breeze, and she had not removed her apron before racing out of the house. The gray cotton covered most of her everyday sky-blue shirtwaist.

“Amelia!” he called out as he rushed toward her. “Amelia, what have they told you?” He reached for her hand as he sat next to her, hoping to impart comfort. Nicholas squirmed to the ground and huddled against his mother’s skirts.

“Only that there has been a collapse, deep in the mine. And some of the men are trapped. They don’t know, or won’t say, who,” she said on a sob, turning her face into his shoulder for comfort.

“Then there is hope,” Gabriel said.

“The men who could escape, did escape, Gabriel. And Liam wasn’t among them.”

“And Matthew? Ronan?”

“I haven’t seen them,” she said.

“Could they all be trapped?”

At her nod, Gabriel groaned and leaned forward, trying to calm his fears.

As the hours passed, Gabriel alternated from sitting to standing to pacing. He found the most solace in pacing, and Nicholas clung to him like a bur as he walked back and forth in front of Amelia. He wished he had thought to bring a few marbles to keep Nicholas entertained. Finally as dusk approached, Gabriel crouched in front of Amelia. She sat pillarlike, not having moved for hours.

“Amelia,” Gabriel coaxed. “We should bring the children home.” Nicholas was a dead weight in his arms.

“No, I will not leave here,” Amelia said. “If I leave, I am admitting that I think they are lost.”

“You are not,” Gabriel countered. “You are being sensible and continuing to care for your family as Liam would want you to.”

“Of course,” she whispered. “I … I can’t … I …” She broke off unable to finish her sentence.