He sighed and kissed the top of her head. “Every time I hold you, every time I get to whisper my worries to you and have you soothe my concerns, I feel guilty.” He met her eyes, luminous with unshed tears. He leaned into her palms that now cupped his cheeks.
“You know I do too, my love,” she whispered. “But I know Savannah would want us to be happy. Just as I know she would want Jeremy to find love and to be happy again too.” She looked into his eyes, shining a brilliant blue with a mixture of love and anguish. “I think Nickie should speak with Jeremy.” She dropped her hands and held onto Gabriel’s shoulders as he tensed underneath her.
“No. Not now.” He shook his head to punctuate his disagreement in an emphatic manner. “He had a hard-enough time before Nickie left for the War. And he had Savannah’s support then. I don’t know what he’d do now.”
Tears coursed down Clarissa’s cheeks, a silent testimonial to her beloved cousin who had died and for the man who continued to mourn her. “Only they know what it is to suffer as they have,” she said. “Only Jeremy can relate to what Nickie’s seen and done.”
Gabriel’s gaze beseeched her to stop her attempts at persuasion. “I can’t hurt Jeremy by asking this of him. Not now. Don’t ask me to hurt my brother.”
Clarissa sniffled and nodded. “You know I’d never ask you to harm Jeremy. I love him too. I understand your desire to protect him, as he has already suffered so much.” She took a deep breath, and she met his imploring gaze. “I believe you will discover that, when Jeremy and Nickie confront their demons, both will find peace.” She kissed her husband and then settled against his chest. “Hold me, my darling. I know one of the children will be up soon, and they will be ecstatic Nickie is here.”
Gabriel relaxed into the bed and sighed as though with pleasure when she snuggled into him. “Will school be canceled tomorrow?”
She shrugged, tracing circles on his chest. “I imagine it will be. It’s well below zero, and it doesn’t seem like the storm will end anytime soon.” She kissed his chin and moved to her side, where he settled behind her, an arm wrapped around her waist. “I love you, Gabe. I know you’ll always do what is best for all of us.”
He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, darling. I always need your faith in me.”
* * *
Nicholas woke in stages. For the first time in months he was warm all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. He had a soft pillow under his head and a quilted blanket over him. He clung to sleep, to blissful oblivion, to a space where he had no memories. He knew when he woke, he’d be in a barracks or a poor soldiers’ hotel, dreaming of home. Of friendship. Of kinship.
He burrowed under his blanket at the sound of the wind howling outside and wondered how many men had died from the recent attack. Although he hadn’t heard their screams, nor the horrible thud as the bomb landed, he knew the destruction would be immense. When a soft hand touched his head, he jerked and sat upright, bashing his head into the owner of the soft hand.
“Ow!” a female yowled in a low voice. “Don’t make a fuss, or you’ll wake everyone.”
He peered out from under his cocoon of blankets to see an attractive young woman with black hair and blue eyes the color of a robin’s egg staring at him. “Who are you? Why are you at the Front?” he gasped.
She giggled and shook her head. “You’re home.” When she saw him gape at her, her smile faded. “In Missoula. With us.” She sat back on her haunches and frowned. “You are Nickie, aren’t you?”
“Geraldine?” he croaked, as he looked at the girl he’d always considered a cousin. “I’m at Uncle Gabe’s house?” When she nodded, his eyes filled with tears, and he covered his face with a hand. “It wasn’t a dream,” he breathed.
When he uncovered his eyes, she sat cross-legged on the floor, watching him with quiet understanding.
“It’s so good to have you home.” Her breath caught on the word home. “I … We’ve been so worried about you. Mama thought you would never come back to us.”
Nicholas flushed and looked away. “I … It’s taken me a while to return.” He looked at Geraldine, her hair in girlish pigtails, a shawl covering her flannel nightgown, and thick wool socks covering her feet. “I should have been home months ago.”
Geraldine shrugged. “What’s important is that you’re here now. Aunt Amelia and Uncle Sebastian will be so happy.” She smiled. “And I can’t imagine what your siblings will do.”
Nicholas nodded and stretched, although he remained curled under the blankets. “Where are your siblings?” He smiled when she sighed as thuds were heard upstairs.
“You’ll see them soon. I should warn you. Billy will pepper you with questions about the War. He’s told everyone about our hero cousin fighting the Huns.”
“I’m no hero,” Nickie growled. When he saw her freeze with widened eyes, he attempted to ease the ferocious expression on his face. “I’m sorry, Deena.” He flushed as the childhood nickname he had for her slipped out.
She shrugged. “Mama warned me that you would return changed. I just hope enough of the old you remains to remind me of the old Nickie.” As heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs, followed by shouts of “Boys” echoing from upstairs, she rose and scampered to the kitchen.
Nicholas looked over the arm of the settee to see Billy McLeod jumping off the third-from-the-bottom step, then sliding on the hardwood floor and ricocheting off the front door.
“You’re really here!” Billy hollered as he raced toward Nicholas with arms outstretched. His sleep-tousled black hair shot up in places, and his blue eyes shone with joy. With every passing year, he looked more and more like his father, Gabriel. Lunging toward Nicholas, Billy twined his arms around Nicholas’s neck and hung on tight. “We missed you.”
Nicholas wrapped his arms around Billy and squeezed him. “Not as much as I missed you, little buddy. How’d you get so big?” He tickled Billy’s side, earning a squeal of delight. When Billy squirmed away, Nicholas released him, his breath stuttering to see the evidence of life continuing in a normal fashion without him during his twenty-one-month absence. He watched in wonder as Billy raced away to the stairs to help his youngest brother, Little Colin, down the steps and then led Little Colin toward Nicholas. “How’d he get so big?” he whispered again.
“He turns four in a few weeks!” Billy exclaimed, hopping up and down with excitement. “Mama promised we could have cake.” He eyed Nicholas with renewed interest. “Maybe we can have two cakes. One for you now and one for Little Colin then.”
Nicholas froze before closing his eyes. “Cake,” he whispered. “I remember the cakes we used to eat here. Araminta made them.”
Billy laughed and tumbled to the ground with his kid brother to play with a set of wooden trains. “Come play with us,” he invited. When Nicholas shed his blanket to crawl around on the floor with them, Billy said, “Araminta is our aunt now. She married Uncle Colin, and now they have a baby.”
“I remember reading that in a letter. I never thought your uncle would show enough sense to marry her.”
Billy jumped up, tugging his little brother to his feet. He ignored Little Colin’s wail of protest to be separated from his wooden trucks. “You should have been at the wedding, Nickie! Not the boring one where Uncle Colin married Aunt Araminta. But the one where Uncle Colin fought the buzzard from the bay.” He smiled as Nicholas stared at him in confusion. “Uncle Colin had lots of names for him, and he never thought I heard him talking about Bartholomew Bouchard.”
Billy puffed out his chest, as though acting like Bartholomew. “Thought he was a great man, until Uncle Colin knocked him flat.” He motioned for his brother to push at him, and he flailed his arms out dramatically as he fell to the ground. “It was the best wedding!”
“Billy!” Clarissa admonished, as she came down the stairs with her hair tied in a braid, wearing a thick robe over her flannel nightgown. She covered her mouth to hide a yawn or a gasp of dismay at her son’s antics. “Gos
sip is never good for a person.”
“Especially on an empty stomach,” Gabriel murmured in a deep voice, as he descended the stairs. He kissed Clarissa on her neck and smiled at the scene of his boys playing with Nickie on the floor. “I remember when I used to play with you like that in Butte. And then here in Missoula.”
Nicholas nodded. “I remember that too.”
“One day Billy and Little Colin will play with your sons too.” Gabriel frowned as he saw doubt and fear shadow Nicholas’s expression for a moment. He was distracted for a bit when Billy raced to him.
“Tell him, Papa. Tell him about Uncle Colin saving Aunt Minta and giving the buzzard a facer.”
Gabriel ran a hand over his face as he cleared his throat. It sounded as though he were swallowing a laugh at his boy’s demand. “Billy, what I remember from that day was you cheering on your uncle as he walked down the aisle and having to hold you back as you tried to race into the apse to kick Bartholomew when he was on the ground.”
Billy smiled with unrepentant glee. “Anything to help Uncle and to save Aunt Minta.”
Running a gentle hand over Billy’s head, Gabriel looked at him with absolute love. “I will always admire your loyalty, Billy-boy. For now, help your mama and sister with breakfast. Nickie and I will do cleanup.”
Billy hugged his father and then ran to the kitchen, yelling that he wanted to crack the eggs for scrambled eggs.
Gabriel chuckled and looked at Nicholas with amusement. Gabriel motioned for Nicholas to continue to play with Little Colin and then followed his wife and children into the kitchen.
Nicholas made train noises and asked Little Colin questions, but Little Colin smiled and shrugged as he played with a serene smile on his face. Nicholas looked up to Gabriel and accepted a cup of coffee, fighting an appreciative groan as he took his first sip. “Thanks.”
“I remember how much you needed it before you left,” Gabriel murmured. He sat on the floor with Little Colin too and set his coffee on a nearby end table. “No, little partner, like this,” he said, as he set the caboose at the back of the train set. The train cars clasped one into the other and formed a long train. He laughed as his son beamed at him.
“Does he talk?” Nicholas whispered.
“No,” Gabriel said. “Not yet.” He ran a hand over his youngest’s back. “We hope it’s because Billy and Myrtle are such chatterboxes that he hasn’t felt the need.” He raised his worried gaze to Nicholas. “We fear it is because he is deaf.”
Nicholas watched in contented silence as Gabriel played with his son for many moments. “Why would you believe that?”
Gabriel now lay on his stomach as he played with his son. “He’s had testing, and he hears very little. He was very ill last year and had a high fever. The doctors he’s seen worry that it harmed his hearing. We’ve taken him to specialists from here to Seattle.” Gabriel looked at Nicholas. “Clarissa and I are considering traveling to Boston or New York City to see if we can do more. But we have to wait for the summer, as we’ll want all the children to come with us.”
Nicholas watched Little Colin with awe. “I’d be more afraid if I were him. If I were suddenly deaf.”
Gabriel’s eyes shone with a parent’s torment at the thought of one of his children suffering. “I comfort myself with the hope that he doesn’t remember otherwise. I worry that we are waiting too long to seek out further care.” He smiled encouragingly at his son, who held up a horse for him, while Gabriel played with a cow. The train set had been abandoned for farm animals.
“However, I give thanks we have the means, and a supportive family, both which allow us the possibility of taking such a journey.” Gabriel paused and looked at Nicholas. “You seem less … conflicted this morning. Although your mother won’t be pleased with how emaciated you look.”
Nicholas flushed. His russet hair stood on end, and he was in need of a shave and a bath. He was at least twenty pounds too thin, and he’d had to poke holes in his leather belt to keep it securely fastened so his trousers wouldn’t fall around his knees. “Do you know what it is to dread waking? Yet to dread sleeping for fear of the nightmares? To cling to the time where you have no idea where you are or who you are?” Nicholas flushed as he shook his head. “When I woke this morning, it was the first time in a very long time that I felt no regret for the loss of being senseless.”
Gabriel’s blue eyes glowed with concern as he stared at the boy he’d loved as fiercely as if he were one of his own. “I fear Clarissa is correct.” His smile was filled with chagrin. “I should know by now that she almost always is.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Nicholas said, as he smiled at Little Colin, who held up a pig for him. Nickie chuckled. “I fear even your son thinks I’m too thin.”
Gabriel chuckled too as he looked at the innocent acceptance and love offered by his son before Gabriel focused on Nicholas again. “I believe you need to speak with Jeremy.”
Chapter 2
Jeremy McLeod motioned for Nicholas to make himself at home in his study, while he poked at the fire. A roaring fire warmed the room; two chairs sat in front of the fireplace, and his desk was before the window to the right of the fireplace and near the door. A small hutch was to one side of his desk, and a painting he preferred to ignore hung over the fireplace.
Although Jeremy knew that his eldest brother had the best of intentions, Jeremy had no desire to stir up his memories of the time he had spent in the army. Unbidden, he smiled as he recalled the good friends he had made. Friends he had failed to remain in contact with. He sighed as he rubbed his hands clean with a rough linen cloth and attempted to ease the tension in his shoulders as he faced the young man.
Nicholas had been six when Jeremy had met him and was now a lanky man in his early twenties of middling height. During his time away, he had lost pounds of muscle. A restless, angry energy emanated from Nicholas, although he attempted to hide it behind a ready smile and self-deprecating humor. Jeremy had been surprised to witness his devil-may-care attitude the previous day, when the men of the family went sledding, and Jeremy feared for Nicholas.
“I know you don’t want me here,” Nicholas said with a jaunty lift of his chin, as he stared at him in defiance. “I know you already think me a fool because I did not heed your words of caution before I left in June of ’18.”
Jeremy shook his head and smiled ruefully. “No, boy. I want you here. And I don’t believe you were a fool. You did what you had to do to have the courage to face what was coming at you. I can only admire you for it.” He sighed and sat in a matching leather chair beside him. “I should apologize for attempting to force you to face your worst fears before you departed for the War.”
Nicholas shrugged. “I read the papers. I knew what was coming.”
Rolling his eyes at the young man’s show of bravado, Jeremy stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. He rested his hands on his belly and stared into the flames, as though seeking out hidden truths. “I doubt that is the case, boy. No one knows what is coming until it’s inescapable.” His voice was distant, as though seeing long-ago scenes. “Then all you can pray is that you survive and that you find the strength to live with what you saw.” He let out a ragged breath. “And what you did.”
Nicholas slurped a sip of whiskey, his hands shaking at Jeremy’s words. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” Jeremy scoffed. “Of course. Fine that you gutted men. Fine that you watched as your friends were blown to bits all around you. Fine that you were chosen to suffer the burden of surviving.” He paused and whispered, “Of course you’re fine.”
Nicholas pushed out of the chair, his whiskey glass falling to the floor as he moved to exit Jeremy’s study. However, Jeremy had anticipated his action and rose with alacrity, blocking the study door. “No, boy. You must face your demons. Tonight. Tomorrow. Weeks from now.” He met Nicholas’s furious gaze. “You can’t outrun them. They will always be with you.”
�
��You know nothing!” Nicholas shouted at him. “Just because you were in the Philippines doesn’t mean you understand.”
Jeremy nodded. “I know. I don’t. I never will fully understand.” He looked at the quivering young man with compassion. “I didn’t have to suffer through the modern warfare you did. I didn’t have to suffer through the fear of gas attacks. Of spending days or weeks in a trench.” Jeremy shook his head. “I only read about those things.”
Nicholas took a threatening step in Jeremy’s direction, but Jeremy refused to budge.
Speaking in a soft voice, Jeremy said, “But I do know what it does to a man to lose a comrade. To hold a friend in my arms as he bleeds to death. To follow orders I know are wrong and to regret them every day for the rest of my life.” His eyes shone with the sincerity of his words. “The weapons of war change, Nickie, but the toll it takes on a man’s soul is ever constant.”
Nicholas’s shoulders shuddered, and, when he was unable to control his sobs, he covered his face with his hands. He fell to his knees in front of Jeremy, as though in supplication for any aid.
Jeremy knelt and pulled Nicholas into his arms. “It’s all right, Nickie.” After long minutes, he soothed, “Shh, lad. It’s all right. It will be all right.”
Nicholas pushed away and sat on his rear end, his back against Jeremy’s desk. “It will never be all right again. When I’m awake, I feel an overwhelming grief that I am alive. Why am I alive?” He gasped as he tried to swallow another sob. He scrubbed at his face and nose. “And then, when I sleep, I have the worst nightmares. All the men I saw die are with me again.” He pressed his fingers against his eyes, as though to banish such visions. “The only time I have any peace is when I sleep on the sofa at Gabriel’s house.”
“It’s why you fought moving to Colin’s,” he murmured.
Nicholas nodded. “I don’t know why, but I feel safe at Gabriel’s.”
Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine Page 2
