Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine

by Flightner, Ramona

  She met his delighted gaze, studying his face for a long moment. “Yes. I realized I would disappoint someone in my life with whatever decision I made tonight.” She smiled at him as she raised her hand and traced his jaw, her fingers scraping over his trimmed beard. “I decided, of the three who I could disappoint, the only one who mattered was me.”

  He tilted his head, as though trying to decipher what she said, and then smiled. “I’m glad this is where you want to be.”

  Her smile returned, pure and filled with a shy delight. “Do you think they’re watching out of the window?”

  His grin widened as he nodded. “Without a doubt. They like you and want to see me happy.” He kissed the palm of her hand that continued to scrape along his face. “I’ve missed you.” He became more solemn at the flash of deep emotions in her gaze. “Did you fear I hadn’t?”

  She nodded. “I worried you were content with the kiss we’d shared. In my moments of doubt, I feared that you would think things through and decide you wanted nothing more to do with me. I wanted to give you time after our walk home last month, as you requested, but it’s been hard not to let the doubts creep in. I’ve tried to be patient.”

  “You were too patient. It’s why I had to seek you out today. I missed you and couldn’t imagine another day away from you,” he said, his voice low and filled with pleasure as he watched her flush at his words. He kissed her palm again.

  She closed her eyes. “I’ve told you about the things my mother says to me.” She paused as she swallowed.

  “I’ve overheard a few of the things your mother says to you,” he whispered, his eyes glowing with anger. “None of them are true.”

  “Well, after days and then weeks went by without seeing you, it became harder to ignore what she bellows at me.” Eleanor rested so that one arm lay across her belly and the other was tucked under her head.

  When Clarissa poked her head out to call them in to dinner, Jeremy caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked at the doorway and glared. When he faced Eleanor again, she hadn’t changed her position on the grass. “We have, at best, five minutes before they really start to harass us. Will you share your greatest fear with me?” He saw panic in her gaze and dropped his hand to the grass, rather than continuing to trace patterns over her arm resting on her belly.

  “I fear you can’t truly want me as I am. That I will only ever disappoint you,” she said in a rush. She flushed beet red as she met his shocked gaze.

  He subtly shifted position so that he rested closer to her, his leg and body against the whole side of hers, and his free arm cupping her face—as though he had made a lean-to shelter of himself, and she was unable to focus on anything but him and his passionate gaze.

  “Disappoint me?” he whispered, his fingers tracing whisper-soft patterns over her face and neck. His gaze roved over her, and a wondrous smile bloomed. “Heavens no. Do you doubt how I react every time I am in your presence? That I can’t stand to be anywhere but by your side?” He traced her eyebrow. “Do you believe, since the death of my wife, that I have kissed any woman as I kissed you last month? Or found such solace in the simple act of being held by a woman?”

  He paused, taking in her simple well-styled evergreen dress. “You are a beautiful woman, and the thought of discovering just how much more beautiful you are without these layers of cloth hiding you from me keeps me up at night. Never doubt your beauty, Ellie. Not to me.” He flushed when she stared at him wide-eyed.

  “Forgive me for shocking you,” he whispered and edged away from her.

  “No,” she murmured, her fingers snatching onto his upper arm. “It’s hard for me to believe you mean this. But I see the truth in your eyes.”

  He nodded. “I will not lie to you, Ellie. I will not use words to manipulate you into doing what I want.” His thumb ran over her eyebrow again; then his palm cupped one of her cheeks. “I’ll always try to honor what it is you want.”

  Her eyes filled with tears as she pulled at him and pushed herself toward him at the same time, until his arm gave out, and he collapsed in a jumbled heap on top of her. “You,” she whispered through tears. “I want you.”

  * * *

  An arm snaked around Clarissa’s middle, tugging her away from the back door. “Don’t even think about it,” her husband whispered into her ear. “Leave them alone. They’ll come in when they want.”

  She wriggled in his arms and then giggled as he nipped at the side of her neck. “But what about …”

  “Believe me. Dinner is the last thing on their minds.” He kissed her neck and pulled her toward the entrance to the dining room. He looked at Araminta, who stood on her toes to peer into the backyard for a better view. “Minta.” He chuckled as she gasped and dropped to her feet, flushing primrose pink at acting like a Peeping Tom. “Sit with Clarissa at the table. I’ll bring the food in.”

  He gave his wife a little push and then watched as the two women put their heads together to whisper about what they had witnessed. He sighed and shook his head, although he couldn’t help a peek outside also. He smiled to see his brother kissing Eleanor in the backyard. “About time,” he muttered.

  “What’s about time?” Martin asked, as he walked into the kitchen.

  “Jeremy and Eleanor are outside, resolving whatever kept them apart.” Gabriel handed Martin a bowl of mashed potatoes and another of mashed parsnips. Gabriel carried in the platter of chicken. When he set them on the table, he returned to the kitchen for the bowl of rolls and the crock of butter.

  After settling next to Clarissa, he clasped her hand, smiling as she muttered, “Spoilsport,” under her breath. Thankfully Gabriel sat with Billy on his other side, so, when Billy hopped from his chair, Gabriel grabbed Billy’s arm. “Hold up, little buddy. Dinner is on the table, and it’s time to eat.”

  He looked at him with exasperation. “I know, Papa. That’s why I have to go get Uncle Jeremy and Miss El. They’ll miss dinner.”

  Colin swallowed a chuckle and shook his head at his young nephew. “I think they’ll come in when they’re done with their discussion, Billy. You wouldn’t want to interrupt them, would you?”

  “Who’d want to talk rather than eat?” Billy asked, then sat down in his chair with a huff. After he had been served, and he received a subtle nod from his father that it was acceptable to begin to eat, Billy attacked his meal, as though he feared not seeing food again for weeks, rather than hours.

  “How is the project for the lumber baron progressing, Gabe?” Colin asked. He ate with gusto, but no one could match Billy’s passion for food.

  “Very well. We completed the molding yesterday, and we are working on a few more pieces of furniture. It will be a stunning home when it’s finished.” He sighed. “Seems a shame a man with that much money will live alone in a home that size. It’s nearly twice as big as Jer’s home.”

  “Perhaps he hopes to marry,” Geraldine said. When Clarissa and Gabriel focused on her with unveiled concern, she froze. “What?”

  “Perhaps,” Gabriel murmured, clasping one of Clarissa’s hands under the table.

  Martin spoke up. “Any news on Patrick’s proposed move to Missoula?”

  Clarissa smiled. “I believe they will try to be here by July. Even though the economy is not strong in Butte, their house sold. Thus they have no reason to remain there.”

  “And,” Gabriel said with a smile, “Patrick has a new job starting in September, working as an architect’s assistant with Mr. A. J. Gibson.”

  “Oh, how marvelous,” Araminta murmured.

  “As long as Mrs. Smythe doesn’t follow them, everything will be wonderful,” Clarissa said with a frown.

  Colin cleared his throat in an attempt to dispel the sudden tension in the room at the mention of his former stepmother. “Did you see the newspaper today?” His smile was carefree as he set aside his plate and held his arms out for his daughter, Lily, so Araminta could relax and enjoy her meal. “I read that the post office will no l
onger allow children to be sent via parcel post.” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

  Myrtle’s fork clanked to her plate, and she stared at everyone at the table in horror. “We could be sent like a package? To Uncle Richard or Aunt Zylphia?”

  Clarissa glared at her brother and ran a soothing hand over her twelve-year-old daughter’s thin shoulders. “Hush such nonsense, Myrtle. You know we’d never do that.”

  “Myrtle-turtle, can you imagine your mama or papa sending you off without them?” Jeremy asked from the doorway, his cheeks flushed and his eyes filled with joy. He stood with a hand around Eleanor’s waist.

  Myrtle smiled at her uncle and focused again on her food, although she pushed the parsnips around on her plate.

  “Uncle Jeremy! Miss El!” Billy hollered, as he dropped his fork and hopped from his chair, eluding his father’s grasp. He raced around the table, squeezing behind Uncle Martin, who sat at one end, and wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s middle. He buried his dirty face in Jeremy’s belly. “I almost ate all the food.”

  “Of course you did, you little piranha,” Jeremy teased. He winked at Eleanor. “Billy loves animals, and he’ll race to find out what a piranha is in his animal book.”

  Billy hopped around in the small space in front of his uncle. “If I can’t find it, I’ll visit you at the library. Right, Miss El?”

  She brushed a finger over his tousled black hair and smiled. “Right.” After Billy raced away to his seat, and the remainder of his dinner, Eleanor followed Jeremy to one of two vacant seats. Hers was next to Martin.

  “We are delighted you could join us tonight, Eleanor,” Gabriel said with a welcoming smile.

  “Thank you for including me,” she murmured. She blushed as she glanced at Jeremy and then looked at her plate. Her flush intensified as the adults chuckled before changing the topic to Richard and Florence’s proposed visit.

  * * *

  After dinner Eleanor slipped outside to stand on the front porch. She hugged the shadows, since she didn’t want anyone from the street or a curious neighbor to see her and to report back to her mother. She shivered at the repercussions she would face when her mother discovered where she had spent her evening.

  “Are you cold?” Martin Russell asked, as he stepped onto the porch. He pulled off his jacket and rested it over her shoulders. “The evenings are never as warm as I think they will be.” He spoke in a cultured Boston accent, and she smiled as he seemed to lose his Rs as he spoke.

  “You are too kind,” she murmured.

  He motioned for her to sit beside him on the love seat swing Colin had hung the previous year. After she had settled, Martin moved the swing in a gentle back-and-forth motion with his foot. “Not at all. Jeremy is like a son to me, and I’m thankful he welcomes me into his home and his life. I would be lost without my connection to Savannah.” He watched as Eleanor paled in the faint light cast through the lamps by the windows inside.

  “You were her father,” Eleanor breathed. “How can you welcome me?”

  Martin patted her knee. “How could I not?” He closed his eyes for a long moment. “You have the hard decision of deciding if you can love a man who has loved before you. A man who will always love another.” He met her shielded gaze. “A man who is capable of an enormous love.” He waited as Eleanor looked away and rubbed at her forehead. “He will always love Savannah, Eleanor.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I worry he’ll love a ghost more than he can ever love me.”

  Martin sighed. “Have you told him that?” When she shook her head, he gripped her hand and squeezed it. “I know what it is to love and to not have that love returned. However, I would say that Jeremy looks at you the way he looked at my Savannah.”

  Eleanor raised her gaze to meet his, hers searching and hopeful.

  “He looks at you as though he can’t believe his good fortune at finding you.” He paused as he noted her eyes shimmering with tears. “His eyes light with joy when you enter a room. He relaxes when he hears your voice. And he seems lighter in spirit when you laugh.”

  “I feel the same way about him,” she whispered.

  Martin nodded. “Are you brave enough to love him?”

  Eleanor closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a moment she smiled. “That’s a question I should answer for him, sir, not for you.” When Martin chuckled, she settled into her seat beside him. “Are you sure you aren’t offended by me?”

  Martin shook his head. “My Savannah and her daughter, Melinda, died from that horrible influenza, Eleanor. I know Jeremy did everything in his power to save them. I was there, in Boston, as I witnessed him fighting for them.” His eyes clouded with sadness. “I will mourn them forever, but there is no one to blame.”

  He was interrupted by the sound of a car passing on a nearby street and a dog barking.

  After another moment he murmured, “What kind of man would I be if I expected Jeremy to live the remainder of his life alone? To mourn forever?” He shook his head. “Savannah would not want that for him. Nor do I. For that is not love.” He looked at Eleanor. “Love is wanting the best for the person you adore, even if you will have no part in their happiness.”

  Tears coursed down her cheeks as she saw the impassioned truth in his gaze. “My family doesn’t believe that.”

  Martin made a noise of disagreement. “Then that is their misfortune. But it doesn’t have to be yours, my dear.”

  Eleanor sat for many long minutes in contemplative silence beside Martin, the porch swing moving back and forth in a soothing motion, while thought about what he had said.

  Chapter 15

  After returning home from Colin’s and shooing her children upstairs to ready for bed, Clarissa picked up a folded piece of paper, resting near the settee, and opened it. Her eyes widened in shock as she rapidly scanned the missive. Taking a deep breath, she held a hand to her heart, rereading the letter more slowly.

  After a moment’s reflection, she climbed the stairs to the bedroom her daughters Geraldine and Myrtle shared. “Geraldine, may I speak with you in my room?” Clarissa winked at Myrtle, already under a thin sheet. Although it remained warm upstairs, Myrtle hated sleeping without something covering her. “I’ll come in soon to tuck you in.”

  Myrtle smiled at her and curled on her side, already half asleep. Clarissa paused a moment to memorize her youngest daughter’s peaceful countenance, and the soft curl of her hair as it fanned over the pillow.

  Geraldine brushed past her mother as she crossed the hall to her parents’ bedroom. Sitting with a huff, she crossed her arms and stared at her mother with impatience. “What is it, Mama?”

  “Did you wonder why your father and I were worried about the lumber baron tonight?” She saw confusion on her daughter’s face and smiled. “We worry some man will take notice of you, and we’ll lose you. Sooner than we are ready to.”

  Geraldine rolled her eyes and pushed up to leave. “Mama, this is a ridiculous conversation. I’ve never met the lumber baron. Besides, what a silly thing to call a man. He’s not nobility.” When her mother pierced her with a severe stare, she sat again. “What have I done to displease you?”

  “It saddens me that you are impatient with me, whereas before you always found joy in my presence. Now I merely irritate you.” She watched as her daughter bristled under her words. “I fear that is the way of things as you age. I remember tugging at my mother’s restrictions, always wanting just a little more freedom.” Her eyes shone with regret. “And then she was gone.”

  Geraldine’s gaze filled with terror. “Are you ill, Mama?”

  Clarissa rushed to her daughter and clasped her hand. “No, my darling girl. No.” She sighed, and her eyes were filled with frustration and concern. “I found a letter.” She held it up, releasing the paper when Geraldine snatched at it, so that it wouldn’t be torn.

  “How dare you read my private correspondence!” Geraldine shrieked. “That’s an invasion of privacy. My privacy. How could you?” Ger
aldine looked at her mother with deep betrayal in her gaze.

  “Oh, Geraldine, I never meant to betray any trust you have in me. I merely found a slip of paper on the floor and read it before throwing it in the trash.” Clarissa shook her head. “What I would like to know is why you felt the need to hide your correspondence with Nickie from your father and me.”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Geraldine hissed, her shoulders slouched and arms crossed over her chest.

  Crouching in front of her daughter so as to meet her wrathful gaze, Clarissa sighed. “Of course I do. I remember being young. The thrill of an illicit attachment.” She looked at Geraldine in confusion. “What I don’t understand is why you believe your affection for Nickie must remain a secret.”

  “We were friends. It blossomed into something more. I shouldn’t have to tell you everything, Mama,” Geraldine said in a defensive tone as she bristled at Clarissa’s soft words. “I’m seventeen. I want to live. Experience life.” Her eyes glowed with passion. “Melly died when she was my age. She never had the chance to know what love is or to live a full life. Don’t expect me to sit by and squander my life because you’re afraid!”

  Clarissa recoiled as though her daughter had slapped her. “Geraldine, that is no way to speak with me.” She flushed as her hands shook, with rage or with anxiety, as she clasped her hands together at her waist. “I would never want to interfere with your relationship.” Her voice broke on the word relationship.

  “Of course you would. You already are right now. You think I’m too young. You want me to do everything you weren’t able to. Go to university and study subjects that were off-limits to you. Live the life you wished you’d had.” She glared at her mother. “Have you ever considered, just once, what I want? That perhaps I don’t want to go to university? That I want my own dreams? Or are you so jealous of my youth, of my good fortune to grow up at this time of greater freedom for women, that you can only think of yourself?”