Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (27 page)

“I’m amazed you can’t see the bond that has formed between you and Mrs. Egan, Gabriel,” Aidan insisted.

“It’s one forged of loss and pain,” Gabriel said. “You know what it is to lose those you love. But, through it all, I’ve never stopped loving Clarissa.”

“This sounds like a lengthy story. Why don’t we cool off by the river, rather than remain indoors on this nice afternoon?” He pulled on Gabriel’s arm, ushering him out of the workspace.

Gabriel locked up, and they walked toward the Missoula River. He nodded occasionally to passersby, smiling that the number of people he knew continued to grow daily. They walked down Main Street passing various shops including a chemist, a small grocer and a lady’s apparel shop until reaching Higgins. As they walked on the boardwalk along Higgins, Gabriel noted that the Missoula Mercantile—a large two-level redbrick building filling half a block—continued to do a roaring business. They made their way past the old Missoula mills and his competitor’s shop, crossed the wooden Higgins Street Bridge and walked alongside the river on the other side of town.

“If Clarissa were truly traveling toward me, why hasn’t she arrived? It’s mid-June.” He attempted to hide the anguish and fear from his voice, but knew he had failed. “I read the papers each day, ensuring there’s been no train derailment. And every day there is no word from her.”

“What were her last letters to you like, Gabriel?”

“Sad. Mournful. As though something precious had been lost. And yet she seemed happy when she wrote of traveling to me. I worry that I read what I wanted to see, not what she was truly feeling.”

“That’s nonsense, Gabriel. If she were planning to travel to you, then I believe you were both feeling the same emotions.”

“Then where is she?”

“She knew you moved here?”

“I wrote her, and Richard always delivered my letters.”

“Well, then, I would suspect she will arrive at any time,” Aidan said. “You’ll hold her in your arms again soon, Gabriel.”

CHAPTER 24

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, he doesn’t live here anymore?” I looked toward Colin with horrified eyes.

I turned my attention back to the boardinghouse manager as he spoke. His left cheek bulged with chewing tobacco; his shirt had spit stains down the front; and his yellow decaying teeth looked as though they’d crumble at any moment.

“That’s right, miss. He paid up an’ moved out a few weeks ago now, maybe e’en a month ago. Can’t rightly say when. But he’s not here now. Good day to you.” He nodded with no real measure of regard in my direction.

“Wait!” I grabbed his dirty coat sleeve. “Do you have any idea where he went, sir?”

“No, miss. They don’t tell us nothin’. An’ as long as they pay up’s all I care ’bout.” He freed his shirt from my grasp and turned away, spitting into a spittoon with amazing accuracy as he left the room.

I would have collapsed had there been a chair available. I remained standing, although I swayed like a tree about to be felled. “Say something, please, Col,” I entreated as I looked toward him. “What are you thinking?”

“Let’s go to the post office, see if there’s a forwarding address,” he said with a weak smile. “It’s a start, at least.”

I nodded, feeling a stirring of hope. I knew that Colin would help me find Gabriel. After a few inquiries about the location of the post office, we made our way from Centerville toward Butte’s main post office on East Broadway in Uptown Butte.

Upon entering the post office, I waited with veiled impatience for my turn to speak with the postmaster. “Excuse me, sir. We are looking for a forwarding address of a man who used to live here.”

He glanced at me over his spectacles, nodding a few times. “Good mornin’ to you, miss,” he replied, making me feel churlish. “Did he know you would be comin’ to look for him?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, flushing.

“Did he leave you a message ’bout where he was movin’ to?” the postmaster asked, looking me up and down, then glancing at Colin with an amused expression over his spectacles.

I blushed a rosier red, straightening my shoulders. “Sir, I expected to meet my fiancée here, yet have found that he has moved on. I’m inquiring to determine if you know where he went.” Colin placed his hand on my arm, as though to calm me.

“Well, miss, it appears he don’t want you to know where he went. If there ain’t no letter here for you, there ain’t no way of knowin’ where he went, and there ain’t no way I can help you,” the postmaster replied, in a condescending manner. “Out of pure curiosity, what is the man’s name?”

Colin squeezed my arm, and spoke up in his deep, authoritative voice, “Gabriel McLeod.”

The postmaster shook his head. “I don’t have nothin’ for you ’bout him. Sorry, miss, sir.” He nodded and looked past me toward the other customers in line waiting their turn.

I turned away, dazed, unsure what to do. We went outside into the bright sunshine. “Where is he, Col? He knew I was traveling to him. Why wouldn’t he leave me word?”

“Well, we can ask around, see if anyone knew him. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll send Richard a telegram,” Colin replied, deep in thought.

“I don’t want to use the meager amount of money we have on a telegram,” I said.

“Don’t be foolish, Rissa. It’s better spent on a telegram than nights at an expensive hotel.”

I nodded, blinking away tears. “What if he has decided he doesn’t want me here?”

Colin brushed the tears off of my cheeks. “He’ll be over the moon to see you at last, Rissa. Never doubt that.” He glanced around the city for a moment. “For my part, I’m hungry. Let’s find a decent café before we continue our search.”

I stared out at the barren hills of Butte, wondering where we would be headed next.

***

“COLIN, QUIT GRUMBLING about sitting in the ladies’ section,” I hissed. I gave him a gentle kick under the table, and, rather than glaring at me, he winked.

“At least it served a purpose,” he said.

“How can you, being grumpy, serve a purpose?”

“It made you think of something other than Gabriel’s whereabouts,” Colin said. “Besides, you looked so morose, it were as if I were leading you to the gallows in the morning. I don’t care to garner any more interested stares than necessary.”

“I do not look that miserable!” I protested.

“Finally a flash of color on your cheeks,” Colin said as he stared around the room. Booths lined the wall with tables along the middle of the room and in front of the windows. Cream-colored walls reflected the light streaming in through the tall windows. An oak sidebar stood in one corner of the room. He smiled openly at the other patrons. “At least we arrived early enough to receive a booth. I like the privacy.”

“I like the tall windows letting in the sun. It’s almost seven, and there’s still so much light.”

“Maybe it’s because we’re a mile high and that much closer to the sun?” Colin mused.

“Maybe it’s a sign we are truly insane to be in such a city.”

“Rissa, it’s not that bad, once you get past the aesthetic.”

“The soot and dirt and overwhelming brownness? I never thought I’d long for trees and green the way I do after one day here, Col. What would a year be like?”

“Could you ever have envisioned a mining city so grand, Rissa? One with opera houses, electric streetcars and women dressed fancily enough to impress even Mrs. Smythe?”

“No, Col, I couldn’t. And the brawls in the middle of the night are entertaining too.”

“Oh, so you heard that?”

“Yes, and you calling out encouragement to Iron Fists Flanagan! You should have been rooting for Poor Jimmy Slims,” I said. “I’m just thankful I didn’t hear you placing a bet.”

Colin laughed. “Ah, what an introduction to Butte. I think it would take close to a year to visit each saloon if I went to one a day. Isn’t that extraordinary? And they never close. How is that possible?” He shook his head in wonder.

“You’ve never been one for the saloons.”

“No, I haven’t. But imagine all the tales you would hear if you spent time there. Well, it worked for a few moments at least,” Colin murmured as he glanced at the menu. At my quizzical stare he said, “Distracted you for a few minutes.”

I nodded, looking at the menu but not seeing it. “How could Gabriel have moved without informing me?”

“Focus on the fact that you’re here now. We will find him. You’ll have your adventure with Gabe.”

“Pardon me, are you ready?” a nasally voice interrupted the conversation.

I jerked, glancing up at the waitress. I glanced at Colin to order, as I had not even looked at the menu. Colin quickly ordered two sirloin steaks, with coffee and tea.

“Rissa, I’m going to telegram Richard, see what he has to say,” Colin said in a hushed, determined voice. Then in a lower voice, “I want to see you with Gabriel, and I worry about Cameron.”

“I can’t see him, Col.”

“And you won’t,” Colin agreed.

“Please, can we try one other place before sending the telegram?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I remember that Gabriel found work at a new hotel under construction,” I said, thinking aloud. “Could we find the foreman?”

“Clarissa,” Coin said, sighing and leaning away from the table. “You know he’ll have as little information as everyone else. And be as unwilling to help.”

“I know. I just want one more day without resorting to a telegram,” I said in a firm, resolute tone. “I don’t want to have to admit defeat to anyone yet.”

“I wouldn’t call sitting in a café with its booths for ladies in Butte, Montana,
defeat
, Rissa,” Colin said, glancing around him.

The waitress returned with our dinners. “All this?” I stared at the two plates each piled high with potatoes smothered in butter and a huge steak.

Colin winked at me as he devoured his meal. “Miner’s portions, Rissa.”

After dinner, we wandered toward our hotel. I looped my arm through Colin’s, enjoying the short walk in the long summer evening. Our hotel was a few blocks over from the restaurant but still on Broadway, and we did not have to traverse the steep hill to return to our rooms. The majority of the brick buildings were two and three stories tall with businesses such as grocers, saloons and bakeries on the street level with private residences above. Men mingled outside some of the bars, enjoying the pleasant evening.

“Can you believe how light it still is?” Colin marveled, tilting his head up to the sky.

“I never would have imagined such a thing,” I said. As we neared our hotel, we walked past a crowd of men loitering in front of the California Saloon, relaxing in the cool evening breeze.

“Ahem,” cleared a deep voice behind us. Colin turned to address the man while I peered around Colin’s shoulder. It was a man we had just passed, in worn clothes with patches on the elbows of his jacket with no tie, waistcoat or collar in sight.

“Yes?” Colin asked, raising one eyebrow.

“I heard you were asking about Gabriel McLeod,” the man said.

I dug my fingers into Colin’s arm, and I felt him grimace in pain. He reached up to my hand on his arm as though to pat it but, in reality, was prying my fingers from it.

“And if we were?” Colin asked, waiting to see what the man offered.

“I’m not sure where he went, but Mr. Jeffers might. I’m Larry Ferguson, and these are Niall and Morgan,” he said with an engaging smile, pointing to two of his companions who sat on the steps of the saloon. “We used to work with him, and we’d come here every once in a while for a pint.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Ferguson,” Colin said with a grin. After a short pause, Colin asked, “And if I were to look for this Mr. Jeffers, where would I go?”

“If he’s not at the Thornton ordering us around, I’d go to the M&M on Main Street. He tends to spend most of his time there.” He pointed down the hill as he spoke. “The Thornton’s kitty-corner to the McDermott.”

Colin nodded, appearing to think through what he had just heard. He reached out his hand to Larry, shaking it with a firm grip. “You say you worked with him?” At Larry’s nod, Colin asked, “And yet you don’t know where he went?”

“He always was a private man. Never liked discussing himself much.” Larry glanced toward me and smiled. “Kept a picture of that woman there on his nightstand and never told us why. Seems a shame you’ve come all this way and can’t find him now.”

Colin nodded, releasing his hand as he nodded toward Morgan and Niall. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Ferguson.” Larry smiled, turned and walked back to his friends at the pub in a long lope.

Colin and I continued our slow walk toward the hotel. “Just think, tomorrow we’ll be able to speak with Mr. Jeffers and determine where Gabriel is,” I said as I squeezed his arm in excitement.

Colin continued our sedate pace, shaking his head and laughing. “No, Rissa.
We
won’t do anything of the sort. You most assuredly should not go into a saloon,” he said, turning his head to watch me with raised eyebrows.

I blushed yet refused to be swayed. “But, Col…”

“No, Rissa,” he said in a firm voice that brooked no argument. “I will speak with him tomorrow, and then we will determine what should be done.”

“Fine, but I refuse to wait in the hotel. I’ll wait in a place acceptable for ladies. Like the café we were just in.”

***

THE NEXT MORNING, we went to the same café where we had eaten dinner, and I ordered breakfast. Colin left me after only finishing his coffee to search out Mr. Jeffers. I waited impatiently, biding my time by writing a letter home I knew I would not post until I had my reunion with Gabriel.

After finishing a second cup of tea, I began to worry that Colin had been unsuccessful in meeting with Mr. Jeffers. I itched to leave the café and wander to the nearby M&M but knew Colin would be furious with me.

Finally after another fifteen minutes Colin returned, seeming flustered and out of sorts. He scanned the room before sitting down with me in my booth. He signaled for the check, pulling coins from his pocket to pay.

“Col?” I asked. “Are you all right?”

“Not now, Clarissa,” he whispered in a low, angry voice. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”

“Colin, talk to me,” I begged, fear stealing inside me at his actions and tone.