Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine

by Flightner, Ramona

  “We could sell them,” Victor said. “I hear there is a good market for fierce warriors.”

  “We aren’t no mercen … mercen …” Billy said with a tilt of his head in defiance, although he couldn’t spit out the word he desired.

  “Mercenaries. So, you believe you have more pride and are worth more than men who are hired to pay to fight? You believe you have more honor?” Ian asked.

  Billy shot his hand in the air with a battle cry. “We’re McLeods!”

  Gideon repeated, “We’re McLeods too!”

  Fighting a smile and attempting to look stern, Ian nodded. “Hmm, that does pose a problem, as we are from the same tribe.” He winked as his brother Calvin stood with stooped shoulders next to Billy. “Perhaps you’d wish to join our group and to join our soldiers.”

  Billy shared a look with Calvin and shrugged. “As long as we keep our rank.”

  Ian chuckled. “There can only be one Captain, kid.”

  Billy smiled. “That’s fine. I’m a General.”

  Ian’s laugh burst out, and he ran a hand over Billy’s head. “Incorrigible. I believe that is the word most often used with you.” He looked at his brothers. “I would be most honored to fight among such worthy soldiers.”

  Billy shook hands with his older cousin. He beamed at Calvin but frowned to see him look so deflated. “What’s the matter, Cal?” he whispered, as the other McLeod siblings had moved away to wrestle.

  “They always win.” Calvin sat down, his arms slung over his knees. He looked over the park and then sat back to stare up at the clouds.

  “They think they’ve won,” Billy said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Little do they know that they’ve let two traitors into their camp who’ll wreak havoc.” His eyes glowed with mischief. “Mama says my second middle name, after mischief, is havoc.”

  Calvin giggled. “We’ll have havoc next time?”

  Billy nodded and then laid beside his cousin to stare at the clouds. “Uncle Colin loves to stare at clouds and find shapes. The clouds today are perfect for that. Do you see anything?”

  Calvin looked up and smiled. “That could be a horse.”

  Billy frowned. “I think I see an elephant, not a horse.” They bantered back and forth about shapes they saw until a shadow fell over them. Billy squinted, as he expected it to be one of his cousins or his aunts. Instead it was a woman he did not know. He nudged Calvin’s arm, and they both sat up. “Ma’am, you’re blocking our excellent view of the clouds, and there are quite a few good shapes to be found today.”

  “Impertinent, like your father,” the woman snapped before she pasted on a smile. “I had thought you’d show a little respect to someone older than you who wished to make your acquaintance.”

  Billy stared at the woman in a brightly colored dress with funny blond hair, a pinched face, and insincere eyes, then shook his head. “No, ma’am. We’re children. If someone wants to meet us, they should talk to our mama or papa first.”

  She bent over to peer down at them. “I had hoped my grandchildren would want to meet me.”

  Billy shared a startled look with Calvin and then shrugged with indifference at the woman looking at the two of them covetously. “If you were my grandma, my mama would have wanted me to meet you. She hasn’t, so you’re not.”

  The woman flushed with irritation at his simplistic logic. “You are a fanciful boy, used to being the darling of his family.” She looked at him in a cunning manner. “How do you think you’d fare if you didn’t have your family’s support?”

  Billy sat up straighter, glaring at the woman. “That’s a stupid question, ma’am. I’m a McLeod, and a McLeod always supports one another. If you knew us at all, you’d know that.” He rose and soon Calvin stood beside him too. “If you were my grandma, you’d know that.”

  He yelped as the woman gripped his arm like a tight vise, strong enough to leave a bruise. “Oh, I am your grandmother. And I am very much looking forward to meeting every member of your family.” She smiled, but no joy lit her expression. Her smile broadened as Billy shivered at the malice and cruelty in her gaze. “Be sure to tell your mama that I said hello.”

  Billy kicked her in the shins, earning a grunt, and raced away with Calvin. “That woman is crazy,” he said with a shake of his head. When they neared their cousins and aunts, his bravado returned, and he smiled impishly at Calvin, who he was beginning to consider brother. “Goes to show, everyone wishes they were a McLeod.” At Calvin’s giggle, he forgot about the older woman and rejoined his older cousins’ games.

  Chapter 22

  At the first part of August, Clarissa stood beside Gabriel and Aidan, as they waited for the train to arrive. She fidgeted with her gloves and pocketbook and tilted her hat to protect her further from the intense sun. The train was arriving later than usual, due to a minor derailment that delayed it a few hours, and the strong heat of the late afternoon was nearly unbearable. “It must be over ninety,” Clarissa murmured, as she swiped at her brow.

  Gabriel nodded and led her to a bench in the shade. “It is. Last I checked, it was ninety-three. I worry this heat wave won’t end before Jeremy has his wedding.”

  “He should marry in the early morning, when it is still cool,” she murmured, sighing her appreciation as Gabriel attempted to fan the air around her with a piece of newspaper left on the bench. “If I were at home, I’d be in a light dress with no corset on, and I’d be much more comfortable.”

  “If you were at home, you’d fill a bucket in the backyard and have a water fight with the children to cool everyone down,” he teased.

  “I’m certain that’s what they are doing now, with Araminta and Delia.” She sighed with pleasure as he sat beside her. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment before easing away. “Too hot. I want to snuggle, but it makes me too hot to lean against you.”

  He chuckled. “I never thought I’d wish for winter simply so you’d want to cuddle with me.” He smiled as his teasing earned a giggle from her. Looking up, he saw his uncle watching them with a delighted smile. “Come, Rissa. The train is finally arriving.”

  He eased her up, although they continued to wait in the shade. When the train rocked forward and back and forward one last time before coming to a halt, they finally moved into the sun to greet Zylphia and Teddy. “You didn’t have to come today, darling.”

  “I did. Zee wrote, asking for me to be here. For some reason, my presence was important.” She slipped her hand through Gabriel’s, and they followed Aidan. He stood toward the center of the train, and his alert gaze traveled up and down the track as he sought out any sight of his daughter or Teddy.

  Clarissa made a sound in her throat and stumbled forward. “It can’t be,” she whispered. She barely registered Gabriel grasping her arm to prevent her from falling as she pushed through the crowd toward a train car, where a stately elderly woman in eggplant accepted the aid of a conductor. “Sophie!” Clarissa yelled, as she waved her arm in the air in a frantic manner. She gasped when a pair of piercing aquamarine eyes met hers. “Oh, my goodness, Sophie’s here,” she whispered, tears coursing down her cheeks.

  When Sophronia had disembarked, she beamed at Clarissa. “Hello, my girl. I feared you would never come to me. Thus I had to travel to this wild place to see you.”

  “Sophie,” Clarissa stammered again, then threw her arms around her mentor and friend’s shoulders, pulling her close. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.” She rocked to and fro, her tears of joy melding with laughter, as Sophie cackled with glee.

  “I’m relieved my surprise was not ruined.” She looked over her shoulder at the other new arrivals. “I feared Zylphia had given too great a hint about your need to be at the station.”

  Clarissa released her hold on Sophronia to embrace Zylphia. “Of course not. She can be as cryptic as any of her McLeod family members.” After a moment, Clarissa swiped at her cheeks and nodded to a diffident man dressed in an impeccable gray suit. “Hello, I’m Clarissa McLeod.” />
  “Theodore Goff, madam.” He nodded his head.

  “Teddy!” Clarissa exclaimed and leaped forward, wrapping him in a welcoming hug. “Oh, you’re finally here too. We heard so much about you when Zee lived with us in 1914.” She smiled as her cousin flushed. “All good things of course.”

  “Come,” Aidan intoned. “It’s far too hot to linger by the train. I have cars waiting, and I’m certain Delia has lemonade and other libations awaiting us at Jeremy’s house.”

  Clarissa looped her arm through Sophie’s, noting with concern that her friend leaned more heavily on her cane than she had in 1913. “Are you well, Sophie?”

  “Don’t worry about me, my girl. I’m fit as a fiddle. However, a small rest before supper wouldn’t go amiss.” She sighed with pleasure as they walked in a slow procession toward the front of the station. “It’s wondrous to no longer be on a moving train. I fear I would have made a horrible sailor.” Her bright eyes gleamed with self-deprecating humor. “I never earned my sea legs.”

  Clarissa giggled and squeezed Sophie’s arm. “I can’t wait for you to meet all the children.” She smiled. “And Geraldine is of an age where I believe your sage advice could be invaluable.”

  “No girl of seventeen cares to heed her mother’s counsel, dearest. However, I’ve never been one to be thwarted.” She winked at Clarissa and resumed the slow walk to the waiting cars. “It’s infernally hot here,” she muttered. “Zylphia assured me it would be as pleasant here as in Newport.”

  Clarissa sputtered out a laugh and shook her head in exasperation at Zylphia’s innocent expression. “We don’t have the same sort of entertainments or society here, Sophie. Nor do we have the ocean.”

  “Ah, but my favorite people are here,” Sophie said as she thunked her cane against the shins of someone standing in her way. She met Clarissa’s horrified yet amused stare, as she hadn’t changed one iota since Clarissa had met her twenty years before at a suffrage meeting in the Back Bay of Boston. “Why should I choose to be anywhere else?”

  “Why, indeed?” Gabriel muttered as he clasped Clarissa’s hand and followed the women out of the station.

  * * *

  The following afternoon Sophronia sat in the back sitting room that had been Savannah’s, sipping a cup of tea. She nibbled on a delicious cookie and stared at the plate filled with them, as though defying it to tempt her further. With a sigh, she gave in and snatched up another.

  When a footstep sounded at the door, she looked to see a woman she did not know. “Come here, girl,” she commanded in her imperious voice, her aquamarine eyes flashing with curiosity. “I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.”

  “Hello, ma’am. I did not mean to intrude, but Clarissa asked me to meet her here. I’m Eleanor Bouchard.” Eleanor smoothed a hand over her stylish chignon and sat on the chair across from Sophie.

  “Ah, the blushing bride-to-be,” Sophie said with a frown. “More like the wavering bride. I’m Sophronia Chickering. And I’m a good friend to most of the women here.”

  “From what I’ve heard, you are to all the women of this family,” Eleanor said with a smile.

  Sophie gripped her cane and gave it a little thud when Eleanor acted as though she were about to stand. “Sit, girl. If you’re about to marry into this family, that means we should be friends too.” She waited for Eleanor to abide by her dictates and then settled more comfortably in the wicker chair, Sophie’s eggplant-colored dress shimmering around her and enhancing her aged beauty.

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, that is beautiful fabric,” Eleanor said.

  “Why should an old woman ever mind a compliment, especially with regard to her fashion sense? My daughters despair I will ever lean toward muted colors. And I refuse to wear anything but a shade of purple until we’ve won the national vote.” She saw the surprise in Eleanor’s gaze and smiled. “You might have that right here in Montana, but I am still denied such a basic liberty in my own state. I refuse to die until I have cast my first vote.”

  “I sincerely hope you will vote soon and that you will not keel over after the excitement of it,” Eleanor said. She flushed as Sophie cackled at her comment. She fixed a cup of tea and took a sip as Sophronia looked her over.

  “You’re the woman who’s tied my Jeremy in knots.” When Eleanor blinked her agreement with that statement, Sophronia said, “I had hoped he’d find a woman who understood how fortunate she was to marry such a man. But I fear my hopes might remain dashed.”

  “Ma’am?” Eleanor asked. “I’m certain you do not intend to be rude.”

  “That is where you are wrong. When you reach my age, you can be as rude as you choose.” She stared pointedly at Eleanor. “What are you doing, girl? You’re less than two weeks away from your wedding, and he still is uncertain if it will occur. Why are you acting like this?”

  Eleanor flushed, her red cheeks highlighting her natural beauty and her black hair. “I’m certain you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Do you believe you are the only woman to love a man who’s loved another?” Sophronia demanded. “Do you believe you are the only woman who has had to hope that the memory of the lost love didn’t surpass the love he feels for you?” Sophronia tapped her cane on the floor. “Do you believe you are the only woman whose man has inadvertently murmured the wrong name as he’s falling asleep?”

  Eleanor blinked rapidly. “You have no right to gossip about me.”

  “We aren’t gossiping. We care,” Sophie snapped. “Jeremy married Savannah. A woman I took under my roof after her first husband brutalized her. He would have beaten Savannah to death, if given the opportunity.” She watched as Eleanor paled. “I loved Savannah. She was like a beloved niece to me. Just as I love Jeremy. He is a good man, a good husband, and a good father.”

  Eleanor bowed her head and took a deep breath. She listened to the robins chirping outside and the children calling to each other as they played hide-and-seek in the backyard. “I know he is. My fear is that I will never compare to her.”

  Sophronia snorted. “Of course you won’t.” She met Eleanor’s shocked gaze. “Nor should you want to. You are your own woman. With your own needs and desires. Don’t ever try to mold yourself into what you believe someone wants or into the ghost of the lost wife.” Sophie leaned forward and grasped Eleanor’s hand. “He wants you. He chose you.”

  “But he said her name,” Eleanor whispered. “I thought our … time together had been so perfect, and then he said her name.” A tear leaked out, and she met Sophronia’s sympathetic gaze.

  “Jeremy has a tremendous capacity for love, Eleanor. Do not punish him for saying something when he was nearly unconscious.”

  * * *

  August 3, 1920

  My Dearest Nickie,

  Oh, you are to arrive soon, and I cannot wait to see you! We are all very busy with wedding preparations, although a few concerns remain as to whether or not the wedding will occur. However, I know Eleanor, and I know my uncle Jeremy, and I am certain that they will work out their differences and marry on August 14.

  From what my mother has told me, you are to arrive a few days before the wedding and to stay for a few days after the wedding. Is this true? How can you be away from the sawmill for so long? I am ecstatic you will be in Missoula for such a long duration. I’d prefer it if you were here even longer! But I do not want you or Uncle Seb to jeopardize your livelihood.

  Counting the days until I can see you again,

  Your,

  Deena

  * * *

  Eleanor sat in the park again in early August. It was less than two weeks before she was to marry Jeremy, and she remained uncertain if she would walk down the aisle to meet him. She sighed with frustration because she wanted to forget any of her indecisiveness and marry him. She wanted to ignore her fears and doubts and to believe that her love was enough. That their love was enough.

  “But it’s not,” she murmured. “I need him to love me with the same me
asure of insanity, or it will never work.” After rubbing her head in frustration, she focused on the quiet park. Few lingered in the midevening, as they were home with their families, eating supper. A light breeze blew, and she sighed at the comfortable temperature. Soon she would return to Colin and Araminta’s. Although she enjoyed living with them, if she wasn’t to marry Jeremy, she knew she had to find another place to live.

  She fought panic at the thought, as she did not have enough saved for her own place, and she did not earn enough at the library to live alone. She had looked into renting a room, but she needed a male to vouch for her, and she had not wanted to ask Colin or Gabriel because she knew they’d tell Jeremy. Besides, paying rent would cost her half of her pay a month. She stared blindly ahead of her, filled with frustration and uncertainty, wondering if this was why so many women married. For the appearance of security. She battled tears at her desire for more. For the dream of a home filled with love and laughter and harmony.

  Jolting with surprise as someone sat beside her, she tried to ignore the interruption of her disjointed thoughts. When someone nudged her shoulder, she turned to glare at him, blanching when she saw her cousin Bartholomew Bouchard. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Same as you, I imagine. Enjoying the evening in a quiet park, as the rest of the world goes about their lives.” He sighed. “Isn’t it wonderful to find a place as calm as this with no one in it?”

  She raised her eyebrow at his presence next to her and focused ahead of her.

  “You can try to ignore me, but I’m here. Just as you can try to ignore your mother. Or your fiancé. But they’re there too.”

  “How can you possibly presume to understand?” she asked in a low voice, facing him again, her cheeks flushed with agitation and her brown eyes flashing with anger.