Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (21 page)

“I will keep vigil with you tonight if you want,” he said. She looked up at him with grateful eyes.

“Thank you, Gabriel. I can’t imagine being alone. Not yet,” she said in a small voice.

“Give me a moment,” Gabriel said. He wandered over toward a man who had appeared at the mine’s gate. Gabriel spoke with him for a moment before returning to Amelia.

“What did you give him?” Amelia asked.

“I asked him to inform us whenever there is any news and gave him a little something to ensure he didn’t forget,” Gabriel admitted. At Amelia’s weary nod, Gabriel helped her from her seated position, and they started the short walk to her home on Platte Street. Amelia stared straight ahead, whereas Gabriel nodded toward the neighbors sitting on their front porches or steps.

Gabriel helped put Nicholas to bed and left the room so that Amelia could feed and settle Anne. He entered the kitchen, took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, gathered the plates and began to clean out the sink.

“Gabriel, you shouldn’t be doing that,” Amelia admonished him when she entered the kitchen a short time later.

“I wanted something to do, and washing a few dishes is good for the soul,” Gabriel said with a quick smile. “Sit before you collapse, Amelia. Tea is about ready. Do you want anything to eat?”

“No, I couldn’t,” she said.

“I didn’t think so, but here’s some soda bread. You need to eat to keep up your strength,” Gabriel said as he placed a small plate of bread on the table. He found mugs, filled them with tea and handed one to Amelia.

“Thank you, Gabriel,” she said. When he watched her questioningly, she clarified, “For coming when I asked you to. For being so good to Nicholas. For doing the dishes.” She waved around the house. “I can’t be alone when…”

“Enough of that talk,” Gabriel said as he set down his mug with a
thunk
. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of his friends, lying hurt in a mineshaft deep below him. He tapped out a nervous rhythm with his fingertips on the tabletop. “We’ll wait for news before making any judgments.”

Amelia finally went to bed. Gabriel roamed the small sitting area, perusing the bookshelf. He decided to read
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court
because it reminded him of Clarissa. When he read it, he heard her animated voice reading passages to him and saw her sitting in the rocking chair he had made her in his workshop in Boston.

As dawn approached, Gabriel fell asleep, the book open on his chest. He bolted awake at the harsh pounding on the front door at a little past eight. He wiped his face for a moment, disoriented as to his surroundings. As he rushed to the door, he hastily rolled down his shirtsleeves.

“Yes?” Gabriel said as the door opened with a loud creak.

“I have news for a Mrs. Egan,” a young man in a dark formal suit said.

Gabriel tensed.

“I am Timothy Flynn.”

“Please come in. I will wake her,” Gabriel said. He approached the back room, knocking gently on the door. “Amelia? There is a man to see you.”

“I’ll be there in a moment. I’m tending to Anne,” she called out.

“She has a baby,” Gabriel said by way of explanation to the young man. “Would you like coffee?” he asked as he headed to the kitchen to put on the kettle.

“No thank you, sir.” Mr. Flynn remained, standing stiffly by the door.

“No one is going to attack you, man,” Gabriel said as he moved back into the dining room area. “We have a good idea why you’re here.”

“Doesn’t mean it makes the job any easier,” Mr. Flynn murmured, his eyes turning mournful.

“Do you have news of Ronan O’Bara or Matthew Donovan? They were good friends of mine. Of the Egans,” Gabriel said. He gripped the back of a chair as Timothy Flynn flipped open a small notebook he carried.

Timothy cleared his throat, shuffling his feet before finally meeting Gabriel’s eyes. “I, ah, I, no,” he said.

“No, what?” Gabriel said. “I am afraid I am going to need you to speak plainly to me.”

“They didn’t make it,” Timothy said.

Gabriel bent over to his waist, feeling as though he had received a crushing body blow. Only this attack was to his spirit, and he had no way to prevent the overwhelming pain from seeping in. He looked up to see Amelia studying him, her pale face becoming ashen as she braced herself for the news.

“Amelia,” he murmured.

“Tell me,” she said in a hard voice, turning to Timothy Flynn. “Tell me so that you can continue with your day.”

“Mrs. Egan,” Timothy Flynn said as he cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “We are sorry to inform you that there has been a minor accident at the level of the mine where your husband worked. He died there yesterday.”

“A minor accident? And yet he died?” Amelia said. “How?” At Timothy’s blank face. “Tell me how he died,” Amelia demanded. “Was he crushed? Did he suffer an injury?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Timothy said as he cleared his throat. “The area that he and a few other men worked in collapsed, crushing some of the workers. I was told they died instantly. They didn’t suffer much.”

“Shut up, man!” Gabriel said as he took a swaying Amelia into his arms. He glared at Timothy Flynn while he held Amelia as she slowly crumpled to the ground, Gabriel following her down.

“Gabriel,” she whispered. “Ronan? Matthew?”

“They were together,” Gabriel said. “At least they weren’t alone.”

Her harsh sobs shook his body as he held her while she keened. “Is there a body?” Amelia asked. “I need to see him again.”

Gabriel glanced up at Timothy. “Well, is there? Is there a body? Can we bury him properly?”

“Yes, yes, of course. It will be delivered to the undertaker. To Duggan today. You can make arrangements as you please for the wake,” he said. “And since you were good friends of the other two, will you want to wake them also? We weren’t sure what to, ah—”

“Yes, we will see to them,” Gabriel hissed. “They were members of the AOH. All arrangements will be covered for them by the group. Please be on your way. I am sure you have plenty of other important duties to attend to.” He glowered at the young man’s relief at being able to escape their misery.

CHAPTER 18

April 24, 1901

My darling daughter,

I hope you are settled at your uncle’s, and I have every faith that you are well cared for. I have waited the last weeks for you to come home. I am surprised you have remained away for so long.

Clarissa, darling, you are my daughter, and I want you home. Safe in my house. I want to see you at my dining room table, hear about your day, listen to you and Colin arguing in the sitting room. I do not like having my family separated.

Your continued silence has shown me how much I have hurt you, Clarissa. I see the error in my ways. Please, come home.

Your Da

As I swiped away a tear, I glanced up to see Florence hovering at the Russells’ parlor door. “Florence, I am surprised to see you.” Her untamable, curly black hair defied being tamed by its pins, and her lavender shirtwaist had a large ink stain at the left cuff.

“Why?”

“I thought you were spending most of your free time with Richard.”

“I do. But I want to see my good friend who hasn’t been writing me as frequently as before.” She sat on a chair next to my settee. “I was surprised when Jeremy told us you had moved here.” Her gray eyes roamed over the dimly lit room, the gaslights already on in midafternoon. Faint hammering and men’s voices yelling at each other could be heard from outside as the elevated streetcar construction occurred farther down the street from Russell’s.

“I needed a change of scenery.”

Florence raised an eyebrow at that. “Evidently. You look dreadful.”

“I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

I shook my head but reached out to grip her hand. “I can’t … I can’t talk about it. But…” I broke off, releasing her hand to brush at the tears that streamed down my cheeks. My eyes burned as I attempted to hold back more.

“Does Gabriel know?”

“I have written what I can. Some things must be discussed in person,” I whispered.

“Gabriel loves you, Rissa.”

“How is Richard?”

She flushed, unable to hide a contented smile. “Wonderful. As I remembered him from before our … misunderstanding. I can’t tell you how extraordinary it is, Clarissa, that he is again a part of my life.”

“I am very happy for you, Florence. You deserve happiness.” At my words, she seemed to pale and to pleat her skirts. “Florence?”

“Oh, Clarissa, the worst has happened all over again!”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve lost my teaching post,” Florence whispered in a tear-thickened voice.

“What?”

“I swear we weren’t indiscreet!” She swiped at the tears that escaped. “We met for tea, talked. It was wonderful. I saw Jeremy again.” She paused, clearing her throat.

I waited.

“A few days ago, Mr. Carney called me into his office to inform me that he couldn’t abide having a teacher of loose morals instructing the impressionable minds of Boston’s youth and that I should be ashamed of myself.” She paused on a stuttering sigh. “I should have known better. I know that. After they did the same thing to Ursula last year, but I couldn’t help myself, Clarissa. I had to see Richard.”

“What does Richard say?” I asked in a gentle murmur.

“I haven’t told him.”

“Florence,” I said, shaking my head as she interrupted me. “Your misunderstanding years ago began because you did not talk to each other. You must speak with him now. Explain to him what has happened.”

“I don’t want him to offer for me because he has to. I want him to propose because he
wants
to.”

“Well, as Sophie would say, sometimes we don’t always get what we want in life. And sometimes, dearest Florence, sometimes when we are doing what we have to do, it transforms itself into our heart’s desire.”

Florence nodded but seemed unconvinced.

“If you believe that, what are you doing to attain your heart’s desire?”

“I’m working toward it, Flo.”

“Well, I hope it’s not too long in coming and that soon you are your healthy self again. You’re too pale by half.” She reached out to clasp my hand.

“As for you, you need to speak with Richard. Tell him the truth. And if he is anything like his brother, he will do what is right. What is proper.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” Florence choked out. “Teaching was to be my way to independence.”

“Flo, you need to tell Richard.”

“Tell Richard what?” a deep voice asked from the doorway. The two tall McLeod brothers, nearly the same height, filled the doorway. Richard gripped the doorjamb, the blue of his eyes startling for their coldness. Jeremy stood a step behind Richard, his pose more relaxed but alert.

“Richard!” Florence gasped.

I smiled toward both him and Jeremy.

“Hello, Florence,” he said, watching her closely, a guarded expression flitting across his face. “Miss Sullivan.” He nodded in my direction.

“Richard, please join us,” I said, waving him into the room.

“I am sorry to interrupt,” he said in a voice tinged with bitterness. “I hate to think I’m interrupting the sharing of any secrets.” At this he cast a sharp glance toward an ashen Florence. He turned toward me. “I have a letter for you from Gabriel. It came a few days ago. I’m sorry I haven’t delivered it until now.”

“Oh, thank you, Richard,” I said as I fingered the envelope. I wanted to rip it open and read it, but, more than anything, I knew I needed to focus on Richard and Florence. Jeremy entered the room, sitting next to me on the settee. He no longer needed a cane and moved with the silence of a cat.

Richard turned toward Florence and focused on her. “Flo, any news? How was school today?”

Florence threw a baleful glance in my direction, although I only smiled encouragingly. She shook her head as though mute, her eyes filling with tears.

“Florence?” Richard asked. He moved toward her chair, crouching by her side, taking one of her hands into his. “Please tell me. I’ve suspected for some time that something was wrong.”

“Richard, I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Why, darling?”

“I haven’t taught in nearly two weeks. I have no way to pay my boarding fees. And no one in Boston will hire me as a private tutor or as a teacher again because my reputation has been ruined.”

“How?”

“I spent time with a man not of my family. The school board does not want a woman of such loose morals to influence the minds of the next generation.”

“What rubbish,” Richard said. “And who told the school board?”

Florence whistled in a breath, shaking her head. “One of the teachers who wanted a promotion. But it’s my fault, Richard. I knew the rules. I knew I needed to guard my reputation.” She paused, taking another stuttering breath. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what, darling?”

“I needed to see you again. Dream again,” Florence whispered.

“There is only one solution,” Richard said as he cupped her cheek with one hand.

“No, Richard,” Florence wailed.

“Florence, you know I love you. We were working our way toward this before you were forced out of your job. It will simply be sooner than I had thought. The apartment is small, but I imagine it’s better than a boardinghouse. Jeremy will enjoy having a sister, won’t you, Jer?”

“I can imagine no better woman for Richard than you, Florence,” Jeremy said with deep sincerity.

“Marry me, Florence. Marry me and let me keep you safe,” Richard coaxed.

“I don’t want you to marry me out of duty,” Florence said through her tears.

“Well, it is a duty. To you, because you are the woman I love. But to me as well. I’m not happy without you. Surely you understand that?” He smiled, raising her hand to kiss her palm. “Ah, it is a duty, but seeing as this is my greatest desire, it will be no hardship.” At her continued silence, Richard said, “Marry me, Flo. Have children with me. Give me a daughter with curly black hair like yours.” He reached out to touch one of her curls.