Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (32 page)

“You seem like a young lady who knows a thing or two about books,” he said in as authoritative a manner as possible between occasional wheezes. “I think you might be just what this place needs.”

“Oh, well,” I stammered and felt the heat of a blush overtaking me. “I hope so, sir.”

“You sure are formal, wherever you come from,” he said. “My name’s Mr. Pickens, Mr. A. J. Pickens. I don’t care much for my name, so I go by A.J.”

I held out my hand, and replied, “I’m Clarissa Sullivan, sir, from Boston.”

“Wowee, Boston!” he said, wheezing so much he nearly fell over.

I think he might have tried to whistle, but I only heard the sound of rustling air. I looked around for a chair but failed to see anything.

He regained his balance. “What’s the city life like?” he asked. “It’s been years since I’ve seen a proper city.”

“Big. Busy. Bustling,” I replied.

“Hmm … Sounds to me like you’re a bit homesick.”

He furrowed his brow, and moved it up and down a few times, as though trying to see if I would agree with him or marvel at his intuition, I could not tell. I smiled, waiting for him to continue.

“Why in the world does a pretty girl like you come all the way out here?”

I blushed, shook my head slightly and did not answer.

“A story for another day. Come, let’s find me a chair and you can
pa-rooose
.” After noticing my smile, he said, “Ah, I see you like my fancy words. My Bessie was always tryin’ to teach me more high-society words.”

He tottered over to a pile of books on a low table that was really a chair. He knocked them to the floor and sat down heavily.

I rushed to where he was, picked up the books and began to put them in order. “Mr. Pickens,” I asked. “Is this really the way the books should be sorted?” I kept my voice gentle, trying not to criticize the dear departed Bessie.

“My Bessie thought people would like to have books by type,” he said. “That’s not the word she used. She used some fancy French word. But the meanin’s the same. Do you object?”

“It’s not that I object to the plan,” I said. “I believe that once you have them in an area by type or genre…”

“That’s the word!” he stated with glee.

“Yes, well, once they are in their area, they should be arranged some way for library patrons. Alphabetical by author or title. Something like that,” I suggested. I looked at a table of classical literature with a mixture of frustration and confusion.

“Well, Miss Sullivan,” he said, smiling fully, displaying his remaining teeth, “I am not the person to arrange, as you say.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, sir—” At his gentle nod, I continued, “Why are you here, if you don’t arrange the books?”

He wheezed again and then gave another bagpipelike laugh.

I smiled in response, realizing I had not smiled this much in months.

“Ah, if that ain’t what my Bessie asked me!” He laughed a little more, almost falling out of the chair.

I realized any height off of the floor posed a potential danger to him.

“She liked my company, see, and, now that she’s gone, I feel close to her here.”

“I am terribly sorry about your loss, Mr. Pickens,” I repeated. I knew the words were inadequate yet felt the need to say something.

“It’s A.J., missy. I knew she was dyin’, see, and there weren’t nothin’ I could do to stop it,” he said, looking away. “But we had fifty-three years together, and they were wonderful years. My Bessie ordered me, she said, ‘No sadness!’ So I’m tryin’.”

“I think you are doing a marvelous job. I haven’t smiled this much in weeks.”

“Now that’s a shame, a pretty girl like you,” he said, a twinkle back in his eyes. “Just be thankful I’m no younger.”

I laughed.

“I have a question for you, now, Miss Sullivan,” he said.

I looked toward him with an expectant expression.

“You asked me, when you arrived, if we needed a librarian. And, yes, we do. Would you like to arrange the books?”

“I would like to, sir, very much. Are you certain?”

“I know you like books,” he wheezed out. “You picked up the ones I threw to the floor as quick as could be. You have a look about you like you want to arrange things here. You seem a tidy sort, just the type we need ’round here.” He glanced at the haphazardly arranged books, the dusty corners.

I blushed at having been seen through so completely.

“The pay is terrible,” he continued. “Not enough to live on alone.”

“But there is pay,” I said. I turned toward him, with hope in my eyes.

He nodded, studying me.

“I would very much like to work here, but I need to earn some sort of salary. I live with my brother, and I want to contribute to our household.”

Mr. Pickens studied me, with a confused expression. “Most women don’t want to work, missy. You should allow your brother to take care of you,” he admonished.

“I know that is the normal way, sir,” I acknowledged. “However, I used to teach school in Boston. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I need to continue to maintain some sense of independence.”

He laughed, slapping his thigh with his hand. “Don’t you sound like my Bessie!” He continued to wheeze, which then turned into a rattling cough. He waved away my concerned expression. “No need to worry about me. The doctor assures me it’ll be a while afore I die.” He chortled some more, causing me to smile.

“Are you serious, Mr. Pickens, about me working here?” I asked.

“Very serious,” he said. “I’ll just need to speak later with a few of the ladies that come by.” He sighed. “Now don’t get worried. They tend to carry on some, but none of them have the time to work here like they should. Families and homes to run, you see.”

He winked at me. “They have a soft spot for this old gander,” he said, with a touch of pride. “Come back tomorrow around eleven, and we’ll see how things are.”

I nodded, my spirits uplifted at the thought of having a job. “Thank you, Mr. Pickens. I look forward to working here.”

CHAPTER 31

“READY, RISSA?” COLIN ASKED, as I stood nearly breathless. I nodded and Colin tapped on the door. It creaked opened, and I looked inside as I heard a small boy yelling.

“Nicholas Egan, you behave when our guests arrive,” I heard a woman command.

“Amelia, let me.”

I heard Gabriel’s deep baritone and then his gentle murmurings as I peered around the doorjamb to see Gabriel on his haunches in front of an irate toddler. Suddenly he scooped him up and held him upside down. The boy shrieked with joy.

“Put me down, put me down, put me down!” he yelled, holding onto Gabriel’s legs tightly. Gabriel turned him upright, holding Nicholas in his arms.

“No more fuss tonight, Nicholas,” Gabriel said as he brushed the boy’s russet-colored hair into a semblance of order.

“I won’t like her. You can’t make me,” Nicholas said.

“No, I can’t make you. But I would like you to be nice to my friends. Can you do that for me, little man?” Gabriel asked with a soft pat on his head.

“Maybe,” Nicholas mumbled.

“Good lad,” Gabriel said as he turned toward Amelia. He finally noticed the door was ajar. “Clarissa! Colin,” Gabriel said with a broad smile, his dimple flashing in his right cheek. “I want you to meet Amelia and her children.” Nicholas had attached himself to Gabriel’s leg like a third appendage, although Gabriel didn’t seem bothered by his antics.

Colin and I entered the tiny apartment. Near the front door was the living area with a small sofa and a rocking chair. A table with a worn cloth separated the living space from the kitchen along the far wall. One little window in the living room faced the street. There was a closed door off the living room, which I imagined to be the bedroom.

Gabriel reached to place his hand on the small of my back. I tensed involuntarily, before relaxing. I sensed Gabriel stiffen next to me, and I turned toward Amelia.

“Hello, Mrs. Egan,” I said, moving forward to shake her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

She moved with an innate grace, her honey-blond hair wispy, giving her a casual beauty rather than a harried look. A worn apron covered a tan shirtwaist. “Miss Sullivan. It’s very nice to meet you. That’s my Nicholas, and this is my Anne,” she said pointing to a small bundle in a well-made crib near the dining room table, a tightly swaddled bundle with only a patch of red hair visible.

“That’s one of yours, isn’t it, Gabriel?” I asked.

“The crib, yes,” Gabriel said as Colin chuckled behind him.

I turned to watch Gabriel elbow Colin.

“I gave it to Amelia and Liam for Christmas.”

At Liam’s name Amelia turned away, moving into the kitchen. “I hope you like stew. It’s only root vegetables tonight as it’s Friday,” she said.

“Of course,” I murmured. “It was very kind of you to invite us. Is there anything I can do?” I asked and then immediately wished the words away as I was a horrible cook.

“You could help me set the table.”

“Yes, yes, that I could do,” I said as I moved toward the small dining area.

“Nicholas, do you have marbles?” Colin asked. “I haven’t played them in far too long, and you have the look of a master about you.”

“Mama, Mama, Mama,” Nicholas said in his excitement, letting go of Gabriel’s leg, nearly bouncing up and down with excitement. “Can I…”

“
May
I,” Amelia interrupted.

“May I get my marbles ’n play?” Nicholas asked.

“Not now, Nicholas. Go wash for dinner. After dinner, if Mr. Sullivan still wants to play, then we’ll see.”

Nicholas ran to Colin. “Will you still want to play, Mister Sullie?” He grabbed Colin’s hand in his excitement.

“Of course, little man,” Colin said, ruffling his hair. “Now show me where to wash up for supper.” Nicholas held on to his hand, pulling him toward the sink area in the kitchen.

“He’s made a friend for life,” Gabriel murmured into my ear from behind. “Colin will have no peace now every time he visits.”

“I think Colin will enjoy it,” I whispered back, turning to smile at Gabriel. He watched me with an arrested look on his face. “What?”

He shook his head. “Amelia, the stew smells delicious,” he said as he moved away.

“I added plenty of pepper, Gabriel. I know how fond you are of it,” Amelia said with a grin.

I stood rooted to the side of the room, watching them interact, realizing all of the time I’d lost with Gabriel. He had much more of a history with Amelia than he had with me. Why should he prefer me to her?

“Clarissa?” Colin asked, and I noticed they were all seated for dinner. I sat in the vacant chair next to Colin.

“Sorry,” I murmured. I saw Gabriel and Amelia share a quick glance and wanted to scream. Instead, I took a taste of the stew. “This is delicious, Mrs. Egan.”

“Thank you.”

“You are a fine cook, ma’am,” Colin said. “Gabe, tell me about your and Clarissa’s visit to see your friend, Ronan.”

“I think he enjoyed meeting Clarissa,” Gabriel said with a smile in my direction. “He was surprised she was as beautiful as her picture.”

I blushed. “He seems a very nice man, though it’s a shame he has lost the use of his legs. Is there nothing to be done for him?”

“Very little. I’m still trying to think of some sort of work for him,” Gabriel said.

“How did you meet him?” Colin asked as he blew on a spoonful of stew to cool it before taking a bite.

“Through Matthew. They were friends back in Ohio. I met him on my first day in Butte,” Gabriel said. “He found work for Matthew with Liam, and soon we were a close-knit group of friends.” Gabriel paused, clearing his throat. “They told us he had died too. But, in reality, he had been only half buried in rubble. So he lived.”

“It’s just tragic he won’t walk again,” I said. I sat fidgeting with my spoon, not eating.

“Yes, it is. But it’s worse for those who emerge only for their funeral,” Gabriel murmured, reaching out to gently grip Amelia’s hand.

“I beg your pardon,” I said to Amelia. “I never meant to sound unfeeling.”

“Of course not, Miss Sullivan. You are not used to the ways of the mining camp.”

“Though we are no longer in one,” I said. “If you will excuse me, I am feeling unwell.” I rose and turned to leave with Colin on my heels. I heard him murmur something to Gabriel, but I was out the door with such alacrity, I failed to hear what he said.

“Rissa!” Colin called out. “Rissa!” he said as he gripped my arm and pulled me to him before I barged down Front Street alone. “What’s the matter with you?”

I continued to look away from him, staring at the mountains in the dim twilight. “Can’t you see, Colin? I’m too late. Gabriel wants Amelia.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Colin argued, spinning me to face him.

“Colin, I want to return to the hotel,” I whispered. I blinked rapidly as I fought tears.

He nodded, understanding my need for solitude. He offered me his elbow, and I leaned into him as we walked the short distance to the hotel.

CHAPTER 32

AMELIA SAT, CUDDLING a morose Nicholas. “Hush, love. Don’t carry on so. He’ll be back soon to play marbles with you,” she whispered with a gentle rub to his back. He nodded and pushed out of her arms.

“I’ll play on my own, all right, Mama?” he asked.

“Fine, Nicholas,” she said. She picked up her spoon to finish eating the stew. “Your Clarissa is … high-strung, Gabriel.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he said as he tapped his fingers on the dining room table. “She says she’s happy to be here with me, but she doesn’t want me to touch her and rarely looks at me with any joy.”

“Are you sure you remember how things were last year?” Amelia asked.

“Yes,” Gabriel said on a long sigh. “I know I didn’t imagine it. And she traveled all the way here with her brother.”

“Hmm…” Amelia said looking away.

“Amelia, tell me what you’re thinking,” Gabriel said in a low voice, watching her closely.

“You aren’t going to want to hear it, Gabriel.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Amelia paused as though trying to find the words. “Imagine the worst thing that could have befallen your Clarissa.” She paused sharing a long, intense stare with Gabriel. “How else would you expect her to act?”