The door to the shop was open, inviting customers in to admire their handiwork and to solicit more commissions. The open door also allowed them to see the beautiful blue sky and to watch Missoulians as they strolled past their shop as they enjoyed the fine spring weather. Many called out hello or nodded as they passed. Their shop stood a half block off Higgins on Main Street, and the area had only become more popular as the city grew.
Gabriel sat with his legs outstretched, while Ronan had rolled his wheelchair to the side of their chairs and laced his hands together over his belly. “Any day now,” Gabriel murmured with a half smile.
“I upset Ellie, but I don’t know how.” Jeremy rubbed at his head. “Or why.”
“Ellie?” Ronan asked. When Gabriel rolled his eyes at him, Ronan nodded in understanding. “If you’re giving your ladylove nicknames, it must be serious.” His teasing smile faded as the younger man leaped to his feet to pace.
“Jer?” Gabriel asked, his tone one of affectionate solemnity. “If you want us to leave you be, we will. I know what hard work can do to help clear away doubts.”
Jeremy growled and punched a wall before swearing as he shook his hand from the pain. “Dammit.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the wall, beside one of the front windows. “I know I only hurt myself when I act out.”
Gabriel made a grunt of agreement. “Why do you want to punch walls, Jer?”
“Eleanor is a nice woman,” he whispered.
Gabriel shot a look to Ronan at Jeremy’s vague words. “Yeah, she’s nice. The way a doting aunt is nice.”
“She’s more than a doting aunt,” Jeremy snapped, as he spun to glare at his brother, his hands fisted at his sides.
Gabriel shrugged and sat, as though he hadn’t a care in the world, his arm slung over the back of the empty chair next to him. “I should think she would know better than to have expectations of being more than that. Not to someone from our family.”
Jeremy stood as though he’d been sucker punched. “You wouldn’t accept her?” His eyes shone with fear and hurt. “You’d … You’d want me to spurn her?”
Gabriel jumped to his feet and grabbed Jeremy by the shoulders. He wrapped one arm around the back of Jeremy’s neck to hold him in a close embrace. They were virtually the same height, and Gabriel met his brother’s tormented gaze. “For God’s sake, Jer, I was pushing you to admit that you liked her. Not make you think I’d never accept her.” He held his brother’s doubtful gaze. “You know Billy’s already attached to her and looks for her at every gathering we have. And Clarissa considers her a close friend.”
“She’ll never be Savannah to her,” Jeremy rasped.
Gabriel shook his head. “She won’t. But no one could be. Sav was her cousin. She was like Rissa’s sister. They were raised together. No one could replace her.” He gripped his brother’s shoulders. “But you don’t want a replacement, Jer. You want someone unique. Like Savannah was unique.”
Jeremy met his brother’s worried gaze. “I … I told Ellie that she terrified me yesterday, and she shut me out. Wanted nothing more to do with me.” He closed his eyes in defeat.
Ronan snorted and tapped his hands on the arms of his wheelchair. “No woman likes to be told that you are petrified of her. It makes her wonder what’s wrong with her.” He looked at Jeremy with a mixture of exasperation and warmth in his gaze. “Women want to know you find them attractive and alluring. That you can’t wait to spend more time in their company.” He shook his head. “How would you feel if she told you that she was terrified of you?”
“Terrible,” Jeremy whispered.
Gabriel pulled him over to the seats near Ronan. “Why’d you say that to her?”
“I … I fear I could love her.” He fisted and unfisted his hands. “And I’d promised myself I’d never risk such hurt again.” He let out a deep stuttering breath. “But I don’t want to be alone. And I want Breandan to have a mother.”
Ronan snorted. “Not good enough reasons. The only valid one was the first one you said.” He met Jeremy’s frightened gaze. “Either you love her or you don’t. Make up your mind. I have the sense that young woman has had her fair share of heartache. You shouldn’t add to it.”
Jeremy sat in dejected silence for a long moment. “I’ve told myself, over and over, that I won’t approach her again. That I’ll leave her be.” He stared outside, watching as a car maneuvered around a cart mired in mud. “But I can’t imagine never seeing her again. I can’t imagine not speaking with her. Or hearing her laugh. Or holding her in my arms.” He rubbed at his face. “And yet I can’t shake the horrible guilt.”
Gabriel slung an arm over his brother’s shoulder and squeezed. “I think that is what most affects you, Jer. Find a way to free yourself of this guilt so you can live a full life. A life I know Savannah would want you to live. If you can’t, or won’t, let Eleanor go. It’s not fair to her or to you.”
* * *
Eleanor left the library, and, rather than return home, she headed to a quiet sanctuary she had found by the river. She skirted around a fallen log and nearly fell forward as her foot sank into a boggy area. However, when she reached the pebbly beach by the river’s edge, she breathed in deeply. The mossy sweet scent filled her lungs, and she relaxed as she continued to breathe deeply.
After a few moments she opened her eyes and moved to a small log that had dried in the recent sunshine. She watched as a magpie with a black head and tail and a white underbelly and wings was chased by a pair of robins. “Must be trying to steal their eggs,” she murmured.
She had become so focused on the lulling, soothing sound of the river roaring past that she had not heard footsteps approach. When a voice called out, she lurched to her feet. “Oh, Geraldine,” she gasped. “I … I was not paying attention.”
Geraldine laughed. “I had thought to sneak over here to escape the hustle and bustle of my family for a few minutes. I hadn’t realized this was your spot too.”
Eleanor held a hand to her chest and flushed as she chuckled. “I imagine it is a favorite spot for many Missoulians. How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
The young girl sat on the log beside her and closed her eyes. After inhaling deeply a few times, the tension seemed to seep away from her. “I’m fine. Although I know members of my family miss your presence.”
“I’m certain I don’t know what you mean,” Eleanor said, as she fought a blush.
“Is it that you don’t like him? Or because you fear he’ll never accept you because of your mother?” Geraldine asked, her brows furrowed. “Or is there another reason?”
Eleanor let out a deep breath as she looked at the young woman, who was a mixture of her parents. However, Eleanor realized that—rather than her brother, Eugene, who had inherited all of the worst characteristics of her own parents—the best of Gabriel and Clarissa had been cultivated in this young woman. “Life is never as simple, or as complicated, as it appears, Geraldine.” She saw her frown at that response. “I like him. But I’m uncertain what to do.”
Geraldine brightened. “See him of course. Why, if my Ni—” She broke off, her eyes rounded and filled with horror. “Never mind.”
Grabbing Geraldine’s hand before she could hop off the log and race away, Eleanor shook her head. “No, tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone else what you tell me.” She waited as Geraldine studied her, as though attempting to determine the veracity of her words.
“If my Nickie lived nearby, I’d see him all the time,” she whispered. Geraldine waited for Eleanor to react, but, when the older woman mainly watched her and waited for her to say something more, she cleared her throat. “He lives in Darby. It may not seem that far away, but he might as well be in France again! I don’t know when I’ll see him again.”
Eleanor’s expression brightened as she recalled who Nickie was from conversations she’d overheard. “The young man who returned in February? The one who is like a cousin to you all?” A dawning understand
ing lit her gaze. “Except he’s not like a cousin to you.”
“No,” Geraldine said. “He’s my Nickie. But I fear it’s all in my head. All from letter-writing. And a few hugs we shared. I want to see him again.” She looked at Eleanor in confusion. “Which is why I don’t understand why you won’t see Uncle Jeremy more when you have the chance. If you like him, why don’t you want to see him more?”
Laughing at Geraldine’s simple logic, Eleanor said, “I should take your advice. But I fear I’ve never been that brave. And I’ve never been good at defying my mother.”
Geraldine shivered at the thought of Eleanor’s overbearing mother. “Well, at some point, you’ll have to decide who you want to please.” She leaned against Eleanor, her arm looped through hers. “And I hope you find the courage you need. For a man like my uncle deserves a fearless woman who is proud to stand by his side.”
Eleanor sat in quiet contemplation a few moments as the sunlight glinted off the rippling waves of the river. While the river gurgled, insects buzzed, and birds trilled, she considered all Geraldine had said. “I don’t know what my life would have been like had I come from a family like yours.” She squeezed Geraldine’s arm. “One where I was celebrated rather than ridiculed.” She paused. “But I find myself yearning for just such a future.”
“Be fearless, Eleanor. You deserve it.”
* * *
In mid-May, Eleanor swiped down the library desks and tidied the main library room. She looked around with pride at the organized space. Although she had had no part in the creation of the library, she was gratified by the contribution she had made in the past month or so. Although her mother continued to complain that she should be searching for a better position, Eleanor knew nothing better would ever become available.
She took a deep breath and sighed. “I have friends,” she whispered to herself in wonder.
“What was that?” Clarissa asked, as she exited the back room. She held her jacket over her arm, as it was no longer needed for the warm evening. When she had arrived earlier in the morning, it had been cool. Clarissa watched Eleanor with compassion and said, “Something about friends.”
Eleanor blushed and turned toward a table she’d already wiped down. “It was nothing.”
Clarissa made a noise of disagreement and approached her. The front door was locked, so there was no possibility they would be disturbed. “I hate to contradict you, but I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t had my friends.” She smiled as Eleanor finally looked at her again. “I’ve told you about Sophie in Boston and Mr. Pickens. I wish your mother would have allowed you to spend time with him.”
Eleanor shrugged. “She thought he was a bad influence. I always enjoyed the few moments I did spend with him.”
“Well, he’d tell you to cease yer withering and get on with yer life.” Clarissa laughed as Eleanor stared at her in abject confusion. “He’d have meant to say dithering, but any so-called learned word was beyond him. Or so he said. I think he enjoyed seeing us attempt to discern the meaning behind what he said.”
Eleanor sighed and pulled out a chair. Smoothing out imaginary wrinkles from her mint-green skirt, she whispered, “I’ve never believed I was good at friendship.”
“Is that what you believe or what you were told so many times that you began to believe it?” Clarissa tugged out a chair and sat near her. “I was told I was clumsy and too forthright in my opinions and that no man would ever want a woman who wasn’t meek or biddable. They almost convinced me that was true. And then I met Gabriel.”
Eleanor stared at her with unveiled envy. “I wish … I wish I could believe like you do.”
“Do you like my brother-in-law?” Clarissa asked with blunt frankness. When Eleanor gaped at her, Rissa said, “For if you don’t, I wish you would tell him and let him free to find another woman to love.”
Eleanor clenched and unclenched her hands. “I … That is not a conversation for me to have with you.”
Clarissa sat back in her chair and nodded. “I agree, although I admit I tend to be forthright and candid. I grew tired of the subtle innuendos in Boston and how I had to decipher what people truly meant when they spoke.” She reached out and clasped Eleanor’s hand. “Talk to Jeremy. I think he’s confused.”
Eleanor nodded. “I … I am too.”
After a pause, Clarissa cleared her throat. “We never talk about him, but I think it’s time we do.” She took a deep breath. “Cameron.”
“Cameron,” Eleanor breathed. “Thank God he’s dead.”
Clarissa frowned. “I thought you were devastated at his death. At his supposed death that ruined your wedding to him.” When she met Eleanor’s bleak stare, she paled. “What did he do to you?”
Eleanor tugged her hand free of Clarissa’s and wrapped her arms around her belly. “He tried to convince me to anticipate our marriage vows,” she whispered, flushing beet red and looking at her lap. “He … was very persuasive but I …” Her voice broke.
“You fought him off?” Clarissa whispered.
Eleanor’s gaze flew up to meet Clarissa’s knowing gaze, and she paled. “Oh, no,” she breathed. “All those years ago, when I believed his horrible stories that you’d played him false, he’d truly hurt you, hadn’t he?” When Clarissa nodded, a tear tracked down Eleanor’s cheek. “My mother wanted me to marry him. Wanted me to ‘catch’ a rich, handsome man.” She ignored the tears that slowly trickled down her cheeks. “For why would such a man want to marry a woman like me? Fat, unattractive, unable to maintain a conversation.”
“You know your mother is a fool not to see what she has in you,” Clarissa muttered and then clamped her mouth shut, her cheeks limned red with fury. “Forgive me. No matter what, she is your mother.”
Eleanor looked at Clarissa with a touch of awe. “No one, until your family, has ever taken my side against her. No one has ever seen me as more than she has portrayed me. Except for my grandmother. But she died when I was only fourteen.” She swiped at her cheeks. Her gaze became distant. “Initially I was heady on her praise of me catching such a man. For the first time in my life, my mother was proud of me. But only for attracting the attention of a liar and a wicked man.”
“What did he do to you, Eleanor?” Clarissa whispered.
“He cornered me in the family parlor, but I managed to push hard enough against the sofa that I toppled it over backward. He went sprawling, and I leaped up. My father, who had just arrived home, came in to discover what made all the racket, and was none too pleased to find me without a chaperone.” She shivered. “That was a few weeks before Cameron died in the fire. Or supposedly died.” Her voice was laced with bitterness, yet tinged with relief. “I acted the mournful fiancée, but, deep inside, I knew I had been spared.” She met Clarissa’s understanding gaze. “His subsequent arrest for murder and my family’s disgrace …”
“Freed you,” Clarissa said. “You were able to leave for years.” She frowned. “What I don’t understand is why you came home.”
“My mother ordered me to. I know I should be impervious to her demands at my age, but I’m not. Or I haven’t been.” She frowned at her own words. “The family bank is not doing as well as they would like, due to all of the loans they gave out during the War, and the sawmill’s profits aren’t enough to prop up the bank right now.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Clarissa said in a soothing voice. “Few can withstand familial pressure.”
“From everything I’ve heard about you, you did.”
“I went against my stepmother, not my mother. If my mother had been alive, I know everything would have been much different.” Clarissa looked around the library. “I would never have traveled to Montana, and I fear I never would have met Gabriel.” She held a hand to her heart. “Something that doesn’t bear imagining.” She rose. “Come. Join us for supper. It should be ready in about an hour but feel free to come early.”
Eleanor hesitated and then smiled. “I will. Thank you.” She tou
ched Clarissa on her arm, as she turned for the door. “I can never thank you enough for your generosity of spirit as you’ve forgiven me for how I was when I was younger.”
Clarissa smiled. “I know now, as I suspected then, that it was all your mother. I’m just thankful we’re friends. As we always should have been.”
* * *
Two weeks ago Eleanor had kissed Jeremy in the back room of the library. She had attempted to keep busy since then, but her thoughts were never far from him. She worried that she had ruined any possibility with him by turning him away. However, every time she headed down Main Street to approach his workshop, her confidence faltered, and she scurried home. Now she stood on Clarissa’s doorstep, and she feared her confidence would once again fail her. Taking deep breaths, she squared her shoulders and knocked on the door.
“Eleanor,” Gabriel said with a broad smile. “Clarissa said you were coming for dinner. It’s wonderful to see you.” He gave her a hug and welcomed her inside. “Billy-boy, your friend is here.” He winked at Eleanor as his son raced toward them.
“Miss El!” Billy said with a whoop of delight. He jumped around and then grabbed her hand, tugging her to the floor. “I was tellin’ Mama how I was bored with only Breandan and Little Colin to play with.”
Eleanor saw Breandan sitting on the floor, playing with a wooden truck. Little Colin played to one side, with a set of whittled farm animals. She sat beside Breandan, grabbing the caboose. She smiled as Breandan giggled and reached for the red caboose. Soon she was on her belly, creating jumps for Billy out of throw pillows from the couch, with him claiming he was jumping over the Grand Canyon. “You have quite an imagination, Billy,” she murmured.
He beamed at her, his black hair in disarray and his blue eyes shining with joy. “Mama’s always reading to us. Wants us to learn and to be educated members of society.”
Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine Page 17
