Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (31 page)

“Oh, which one?”

“The National American Woman Suffrage Association Annual Convention.”

“And your family approved?” Aidan asked.

“Yes, though I believe Da and my stepmother would have preferred me to remain in Boston.”

“Though they didn’t have much say as Rissa was already living with Uncle Martin when she made the decision to go to Minneapolis,” Colin said.

“You left your da’s house?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes. I had to. I needed more freedom than they were willing to allow me.”

Gabriel chuckled. “That’s my Clarissa.”

He moved toward me, and I inadvertently jerked away from him.

I saw him share a surprised glance with Aidan. Gabriel paused his movement for a moment, before continuing, reaching down to clasp my hand. “Would you like me to show you the workspace and the loft overhead?”

In an instant, I had the sensation I was in a long dark tunnel and knew I needed to escape as soon as possible. “No, not today,” I murmured. I threw an alarmed glance toward Colin.

“Clarissa and I were just discussing our lack of employment. We have limited savings and need to begin our search,” Colin said. “Perhaps some other day you can show us around?”

“Of course,” Gabriel said as he released my hand and moved away from me.

I tried not to gasp for air, but my panic at this moment would not abate.

“I will see you soon, Gabriel,” I whispered as I turned to flee outside.

When I was in the full sun, I tilted my head up to its warming rays, wishing the sun would warm me all the way to my icy core.

Colin emerged from the workshop, gripped my elbow and propelled me into motion. “What was that?” he demanded in a harsh whisper. “I thought you wanted to see Gabe.”

“I do … I did,” I said on a shudder. “Just stop, Col. Please, give me a minute.” I paused to look into one of the shop-front windows, happy to see it was a store filled with knickknacks that a woman would be interested in and not a barber shop or saloon. “I’m sorry I panicked.”

“Why did you?”

“It reminded me too much of Boston. Of Cameron.” My voice broke, and I blinked furiously to ward off tears.

Colin swore. “This isn’t fair to Gabe. You have to tell him. How do you think he feels?”

“I have no idea,” I whispered. “I can’t tell him yet. I don’t know how.”

“Well, too many scenes like this and you may no longer have a chance,” Colin muttered as we continued our walk toward the hotel.

CHAPTER 29

“SO, SHE’S HERE,” Ronan said from the bed in his room. He lay propped up on two pillows on a single bed, his features becoming more gaunt every day. Beneath the light sheet that covered him, Gabriel noted Ronan’s legs growing more spindly and weak.

The second-floor room was a brightly lit corner room with two windows, a closet, washstand, one chair and the small bed Ronan remained confined to. A gentle breeze riffled the red-and-white checkered curtains.

“Yes,” Gabriel said as he paced. He moved from the chair to the washstand in two strides, his movements jerky.

“What are you going to do about Amelia?”

“I don’t know. She needs me,” Gabriel said as he sat in the chair by Ronan’s bed. He clenched his jaw as Ronan rolled his eyes.

“Maybe not you. But I agree, she needs help. No need to engender any more talk, especially now that your woman is here.”

“What do you mean, Ronan?”

“Why do you think that you must somehow make everything better for Amelia? Or for me? You can’t, Gabe. You need to go on as you mean to live. With your Clarissa.”

“Amelia’s my friend, as was Liam.”

“But Clarissa is the woman you love,” Ronan argued, pushing himself higher onto his bed with his knuckles. “Your first loyalty should be to her.” At this, Gabriel lowered his head as though in pain. “What is it, Gabe?”

“I don’t know what happened in Boston. Clarissa flinches every time I approach her. It’s as though she doesn’t trust me. That she fears I’ll hurt her.” He rubbed his face. “The only time she showed any joy at seeing me was when she arrived, but since then…”

“Maybe she’s just a skittish female.”

Gabriel snorted. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew Clarissa. I think she regrets coming here. To me.”

“Or it could be what happened in Boston was damn awful.”

Gabriel looked up sharply to share a long, tortured look with Ronan.

“And I know whatever befell her is my fault,” Gabriel whispered.

“How? You didn’t hurt her.”

“I left her.”

“Then find some way to let her know, no matter what, you want her. But you have to believe it too, Gabe,” Ronan said. “Show her, now that she’s here, why you’re the man she should still choose.”

Gabriel nodded. “Are you improving, Ronan?” Gabriel asked, turning his attention away from his concerns. “I know the journey here was too much so soon after your injury.”

Ronan grimaced as he again shifted his upper body against the pillows. “Slowly, though the doctor is certain I’ll never walk again.”

“Ronan,” Gabriel said, unable to hide his anguish for his friend. “There’s no hope?”

“I could be dead, Gabe,” Ronan said. “At least the blast threw me far enough that I wasn’t crushed.”

“Are you doing anything to keep up your arm strength?” Gabriel asked. “You know I saw men, wounded from the War, crippled like you, but who were able to do things because they were strong. You must stay strong.”

Ronan closed his eyes, letting his arms slump down in the bed. “I’m as strong as I’ll ever need to be, Gabe.”

“I doubt that, Ronan. Your life shouldn’t be wasted, feeling miserable and sorry for yourself simply because—”

“Because I’m crippled. Just like you were so kind to say.”

Gabriel glared at him as he rose to pace the few steps in front of the window. “Ronan, you can’t give up. You aren’t eating. It’s like you don’t care.” He moved toward Ronan and gripped his shoulder. “I know the nurse we hired brings in food in the morning, and I bring in your supper at night, but we can’t force you to eat it. Please try, Ronan.”

“My life is over, Gabriel. I’ve accepted it. You need to also.”

“Never,” Gabriel rasped. “I lost Liam and Matthew. But, dammit, you still live. There’s more left for your life than laying in this bed.” Gabriel kicked one leg of the bed and continued pacing.

After a tense silence, Ronan said, “Do you think I don’t want more from my life? To not be a shell of a man?” He shook his head slowly. “I have nothing to offer her, you see.” At Gabriel’s quizzical stare, he said, “Amelia. If I were whole, I’d marry her. Protect her and the little ones. But who would want me?”

“Ronan, you’ll heal. You’ll find work.” Rather than emerge as a command, the words sounded more a prayer.

“So you say. At this point, I don’t know how I’ll survive.”

“You know I’ll find a way to help you,” Gabriel said.

“Gabe, you need to look to yourself and Clarissa. And if there is any left over, to Amelia and her babes. I realize now it was foolish of me to leave Butte. And I know I told you that it would be all right if you said ‘I told you so.’ But if you do, I’ll belt you.” He paused for a moment. “If I had remained there, the miners would have seen to me, helped me through this.” He waved at his immobile legs as he spoke. “They might have even found me a job at the surface. But now?” He stilled, his despair overwhelming him. “Now I’m stuck in a second-floor apartment on Pine Street in Missoula with few visitors. No one will miss me when I’m gone.”

“Dammit, don’t even think it, Ronan,” Gabriel snapped. He sighed and paced toward the window. “I understood your desire for a new place, a new start.”

“It’s too bad you didn’t leave me behind, Gabe, and ignore my wishes. That would have been more charitable.”

Gabriel remained silent.

“What am I good for in this town? I can barely see to my own needs without help,” Ronan growled.

“We’ll find something, Ronan. I promise,” Gabriel said.

“I’m sorry, Gabe.”

“For what?”

“You have enough to worry about with Clarissa without having to concern yourself with me.”

“Now you’re talking nonsense,” Gabriel said with a half smile. “I’ll be by again to visit you later today.”

“Bring your fancy lady. I’d like to meet her.”

“I will,” Gabriel promised with a smile. He gripped Ronan’s shoulder and left.

***

“HELLO, UNCLE,” GABRIEL SAID as he entered the billiards room on the first floor of the Florence next to the saloon. “I thought I’d find you here.” Stale cigar smoke scented the air of the dark paneled room. Wooden shutters covered the lower part of the windows, allowing for privacy while slivers of light played across the cobalt-blue carpets. Two billiards tables upholstered in red stood in the room with pool-cue racks hanging on the walls.

“I often do some of my best thinking when I’m focusing on something else,” Aidan said with a smile. “Care to join me?” His hair was disheveled as though he had run his hands through it a few times. He bent over the table, eyeing the perfect shot, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“If you don’t mind a novice,” Gabriel said with a grin. He took off his jacket, unbuttoned the buttons at his wrists and rolled up his sleeves, mimicking his uncle. They began to play, silently harmonious for a while.

“What happened to Clarissa, Gabriel?” Aidan asked.

Gabriel’s head jerked up, and his pool cue flew off the intended ball, causing it to careen haphazardly around the table. “I don’t know, Uncle. She just arrived, and we haven’t spoken much.”

“What do you know?”

“Little more than what she told us today,” Gabriel said. “And now she’s here and doesn’t want me near her.”

“I think she wants you near her, Gabriel. It’s simply that she needs to become accustomed to you again. From the sounds of it, for a woman to leave her father’s home, she was poorly treated by many of those in her life and now may be afraid of trusting you.”

“I would never hurt her.”

“I know that. And at some level, I am sure she knows that, or she never would have traveled here. But some fears make us irrational. You must understand that.”

“I hate that she flinches from me. That she would ever fear
me
.”

“Be patient, kind and gentle with her, Gabriel, and I am sure your patience will be rewarded by her love in the future.”

“What do you think happened to her, Uncle?”

Aidan shook his head. “Let’s just say that I hope I’m terribly mistaken.” He cleared his voice that had grown hoarse. “Do you want to continue to play?”

“No, I don’t. Let’s go to the saloon and get a drink,” Gabriel said.

CHAPTER 30

I SOON CAME TO REALIZE that finding a job would be much harder than I had expected. All the teaching posts were already filled in Missoula, although the school board seemed genuinely disappointed to have nothing to offer me other than an unpaid position as an aide. I had heard there were open teaching positions outside of Missoula in towns called Florence or St. Ignatius, yet I did not want to live alone away from Gabriel and Colin. Colin had suggested advertising in
The Daily Missoulian
as a tutor. However, even with a finely worded advertisement, there had been no interest. My spirits drooped as each day passed, and I continued with no prospect of having an occupation.

I finally wandered into the Book Depository one afternoon on a hot, still day in late June. As I entered the business on the second floor of a two-story brick building above the Allenstein and Company’s Grocers store, I began to relax due to the presence of so many books. I had missed my mama’s extensive collection in Boston and the easy access to any book I wanted at the Boston Public Library. I scanned the room to see piles of books on tables in no apparent order. It was a medium-size long rectangular room with bare brick walls and plank floors that creaked as I walked. The front of the building had three large rectangular windows. There was a doorway at the rear of the room that appeared to lead to a small room or office. I noted no desk for a librarian.

I perused the front room, empty save for tables piled high with books, self-conscious of the noise I made on the creaky floors. I tried to walk soundlessly but found that impossible. There was a faint musty smell to the area, and I sneezed a few times. I longed to open the windows to let the warm, dry air flow in. However, the front windows were draped in drab puce curtains and firmly shut, allowing very little natural light into the room. Two overhead chandeliers emitted a dim light. I wandered the low tables of books, attempting to find a method to their placement, finally realizing they were arranged haphazardly by genre, although no further attempt at organizing the books appeared to be in use.

An elderly man tottered out of the back room, wheezing slightly with each breath. A loud
thunk
punctuated every step as his cane struck the ground. I glanced up, smiling as I remembered Aunt Betsy and her cane. He stopped, swaying near a stack of books, placing one hand on the books to stabilize himself, then smiled fully with an almost toothless grin. “How may I help you, dear?” he asked in a whistlinglike voice.

“Good afternoon, sir. This is my first time here, and I am finding my way around,” I said, in an attempt to explain my confusion as to the book placement. “Are you the librarian, sir?”

He laughed, sounding like a bagpipe filling with air, screechingly harmonious. “Oh, no. I don’t know enough ’bout books to be a librarian.”

“Do you need a librarian? I’m looking for work and would be interested in working with these books. Although I’m uncertain as to how they are arranged.”

“Ah, if you figure out how old Bessie left this lot, explain it to me,” he said, winking at me. “I don’t know much about books myself, but Bessie, God rest her, did. She passed on last month, and I haven’t had the heart to find a replacement for her.” He stopped talking, as though lost in thought.

“I’m sorry for your loss, sir. Were you close to Miss Bessie?”

“Ah, you ain’t from around these parts then,” he said. “My Bessie and I were married fifty-three years. Yes, indeed.” He nodded. “Her great love was books, you see. So this book depository was started.” He closed his eyes, holding out his hand as though in acknowledgment of his next statement. “She and the other ladies hate the word
depository
, and I know I should call it a library. But it ain’t yet,” he said, a twinkle of defiance in his eyes. He sighed a long rattling noise as he continued to speak. “I know it weren’t hers, but it sure felt like it. She was so dedicated to it, spent more time here than at home.” He opened his eyes to peer at me, nodding. “Now there are other women who come in to help, but none like my Bessie.” He seemed wistful for a moment, then focused on me with keen dark brown eyes that appeared almost black.