Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine

by Flightner, Ramona

  Sophronia used her cane to push under tablecloths hanging to the floor, earning a squeal of displeasure from Billy and Calvin when their hiding place had been found. Other guests formed groups, and soon they were looking under every chair, table, and into every nook and cranny in the room.

  After spilling out into the hallway to continue their search, Clarissa rejoined Fiona, battling tears. “I don’t know what I’ll do, Fee. I feel like such a horrible mother.”

  “Hush that nonsense,” Fiona said, as she wrapped an arm around Clarissa. “I’m sure he’s off having a grand adventure, and he’ll be in your arms in no time.”

  Thirty minutes later, the public areas of the hotel had been scoured, with no sign of Little Colin. Clarissa sat in dejected silence, tears coursing down her cheeks, with Billy and Myrtle around her as she waited for any news. Clarissa’s gaze continued to dart to the door, as though hoping, at any moment, Little Colin would run through it, after having a wondrous adventure.

  Fiona stood nearby, keeping the curious away.

  After an hour, the reception room was empty except for McLeods, Sullivans, Russells, and close friends. Fiona sat beside Clarissa, nursing Sean, and providing silent commiseration. Delia and Sophronia sat together, stalwarts in their love and support. Araminta and Florence attempted to entertain the children, but the children sat in listless groups as they stared furtively at the door too. Ronan, in his wheelchair, was unable to race around the hotel searching for Little Colin and held a sleeping Breandan.

  “Where is Geraldine?” Clarissa asked in a soft voice. “I can’t have lost her too.”

  Zylphia ran a soothing hand over her shoulder. “I’m sure she’s … talking with Nickie,” she murmured, earning a sardonic grunt from Sophronia.

  Clarissa jolted as the door slammed shut when Gabriel, Richard, Aidan, Lucas, Colin, and Patrick walked in their direction with severe expressions. Gabriel looked as though he could murder someone, and she shivered.

  Aidan spoke in a hushed tone. “I was given this note by the reception clerk.” He cleared his throat. “By now you will have realized what you have lost and what is precious to you. Perhaps now you will understand you should never have stolen what was not yours to steal.”

  Richard shook his head as he stared at his uncle. “What? That’s a bunch of drivel.”

  Colin let out a hiss of a breath. “Oh, that cunning, evil woman.” His gaze flew to Clarissa’s. “Mrs. Smythe has him. She thinks this is what she is owed after we raised Melly.”

  “A child for a child?” Delia asked in an incredulous voice. “She willingly gave up Melinda. She has no right to steal yours.”

  Clarissa’s voice was wavery and weak when she spoke. “She won’t see it that way. She’s not rational.” She dropped her head forward, and she began to sob. Gabriel was by her side in an instant, holding her close.

  Soon policemen were there, and the McLeods had to relive the afternoon in painful detail. Although the police appeared doubtful about their suspected culprit, they took down Mrs. Smythe’s name and description. “You do know this sounds like a personal vendetta on your part,” one of them said.

  “I don’t care how it sounds as long as you find her and find my son. I want him home safe,” Gabriel snapped.

  “Perhaps you grew tired of having a less-than-perfect son, and this is the way you planned on ridding yourself of him,” another muttered. He jumped back as Gabriel let out a roar of rage, only held back by Patrick, Richard, and Colin. The officer did not jump back far enough though, as Sophronia whacked him in his shins with her cane as she glowered at him.

  “I’d think you’d have more sense than to enrage a man who’s young son has been stolen from him. Yes, stolen,” Lucas snapped. “If anything happens to this child, your incompetence will make front-page headlines around the nation and even the world as the fans of Lucas Russell will mourn any harm befalling his beloved nephew.” He saw the policemen’s eyes widen at the threat of such ignominy.

  They scurried away, ostensibly to begin an investigation.

  “Uncle?” Richard asked. “What can we do?”

  “I’ll find competent men to hire. I’ll do everything in my power to find your boy, Gabe.”

  * * *

  “Nickie,” Geraldine gasped, as she broke away from one of their increasingly passionate kisses. She moaned, kissing him again, forgetting everything around her except the feeling of being in his arms once more after so many months. Of the mixture of sandalwood and cedar and the elusive scent that was all Nickie. Of his strong hands roaming over her, making her shiver, as she wished they were on her skin, not her fancy dress. That thought frightened her, and she broke the kiss again. “Nickie,” she murmured. “We have to stop.”

  She had snuck out of the Florence Hotel, not long after her uncle Jeremy left, to share a little time alone with Nicholas. After a quick stroll around the block, they had found an inconspicuous spot in the alley near the Florence Hotel that did not reek of garbage or other refuse in the warm August evening. Soon she had been ignorant to anything but Nicholas’s touch.

  He groaned, pulling her close, as his panting breath filled her ears. “I know you’re right, but I don’t want to. I want … everything with you, Deena.”

  Her fingers dug into his muscular back, and she smiled into his chest. “I want that with you too, Nickie. But not yet. Not too soon.” She raised her hand and ran her fingers though his thick russet-colored hair. “I want time to feel this madness. To anticipate seeing you. To crave your kisses.”

  He kissed her hand and smiled. “I’ll always anticipate seeing you, my love. Even when I’m one hundred.” He saw her beautiful blue eyes flash with happiness, and his smile broadened. “But I know you are right. We shouldn’t rush this. We should take time to court. To fully know each other. To enjoy the frustration, so the reward will be so much better when we finally are together.”

  “Nickie,” she said in a soft voice filled with reproach and pleasure.

  “For I want to make love with you, Deena. Tomorrow, three years from now, or when you are finished with university. I will wait for you. You are worth waiting forever for.”

  “Oh, my love,” she murmured through tears, as she stood on her toes and kissed him again, this time with sweetness rather than a raging passion. When she rested against his chest again, she murmured, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait years.”

  He fought to act nonchalant at her words, but his hands tightened on her back again as he tugged her even closer. “I never want you to feel that I stole your dreams. For your dreams are mine, Deena.” He raised her hand and kissed her fingers. “I … I meant what I said in that room.” He nodded to the Florence Hotel. “I love you. I have for some time.”

  She shook her head and moved so they stood in a shaft of streetlight. “Tell me again. This time so I can see your eyes when you say it.”

  He looked at her, his gaze intense and sincere as he looked deeply into hers. He cupped her cheeks. “I love you and no other, Deena.”

  She beamed at him and kissed his palm. “Good, because I love you too. I have since you were at my parents’ house in February. I feared I was the only one who felt this madness, but then I received your letters, and I hoped. Oh, how I hoped.” Her smile broadened even further at the joy lighting his gaze.

  “You know I have demons,” he whispered. “I don’t always win the battle against them.”

  “What matters is that you try. And that you always come back to me,” she murmured. “They don’t make you less of a man. They mean you suffered and lived to tell the tale. And I’m so grateful you did.”

  She sighed as they kissed again. He enfolded her in his strong arms each time they broke apart. After a long moment, where he hummed in her ear, and they danced in a small circle, she kissed his chest and then backed away a step. “Come. If they haven’t missed us by now, we will be very fortunate.”

  Holding hands, they reentered the Florence Hotel and ascended to the s
econd-story room used for her uncle’s wedding reception. Upon arrival, they came to an abrupt halt to find it empty. “What happened? It’s not that late, and my father said the party would go well past midnight.”

  Nicholas shook his head in confusion. “Come. Let’s go to your parents’ house. They’ll be upset with us, but I fear something terrible must have occurred.”

  He continued to grip her hand as they walked across the Higgins Street Bridge and then turned right down her street. His steps slowed when he saw his uncle Gabriel’s house lit up with every light on. “Come,” he murmured to Geraldine, urging her up the steps.

  Geraldine entered the house, pausing a moment when she heard her mother’s sobs and saw her father pacing in front of the fireplace. “Mama? Father?” she asked, as she stood in the front hallway area.

  “Where have you been?” Gabriel asked in a low, irate voice. He took three long steps to her and yanked her into his arms, holding her close. With shaking hands, he cupped her head with his palms. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Geraldine said, her voice wavering as she cast a pleading glance at Nickie. “I was talking with Nickie and …”

  Her father’s astute gaze roved over her, and he shook his head. “I know you were doing more than talking, Geraldine. I pray you had the sense to stop before it went too far.” He looked at Nickie, addressing him. “Not because I don’t believe you are a fine man and a worthy man to court my daughter. But because I want her to finish school before …” He shrugged as though not wanting to say the words out loud in conjunction with his daughter.

  “I understand, sir,” Nicholas said, his shoulders back, acting as though he were addressing his superior officer in the army. “I cannot lie and say I did not touch her. But all we did was kiss.”

  Gabriel’s azure-blue eyes gleamed with pride a moment as he stared at the noble young man who stood fearlessly in front of him. When Clarissa sobbed loudly again, Gabriel’s anger, fear, and rage reentered his gaze. “Little Colin is missing. He was kidnapped.”

  Geraldine gasped and swayed as though she would faint. “No!” She stared at her mother in horror. “This is my fault. I should have been minding the children. Not thinking of myself. Not off with Nickie.”

  “No, Geraldine,” her father said in a stern voice. “This fault lies with whomever had the temerity to believe they had the right to take him from us. This is not because we were not vigilant enough. This is not any of our faults.”

  Geraldine rushed past him to her mother, collapsing beside Clarissa. Soon they held each other close, as they attempted to console each other in an inconsolable situation.

  * * *

  “Do you think they miss us?” Eleanor asked, as she rested in her husband’s arms after their second bout of passionate lovemaking. It was well after midnight, and she wouldn’t be surprised if dawn’s early rays lightened the sky soon.

  “Hell no,” he chuckled. “My brothers would do the same thing. Colin snuck out of his wedding with Araminta in the middle of winter to avoid a chivaree. They understand and sympathize.” He kissed her head. “Well, perhaps Gabe doesn’t. He and Rissa were chivareed, but I think he ended up enjoying it.”

  “How long can we stay here?” she asked, a wistful note in her voice.

  He grinned at her, delight and love shining in his gaze to realize she craved time alone with him as much as he did with her. “Days and days. Well, until the eighteenth. Then we are having a huge family party. I think we could show up that afternoon, and no one would care that we weren’t there to help with the planning. They’ll be happy we bothered to come.”

  She kissed his chest and made a circular motion over his heart. “I’m sorry my mother ruined our reception.”

  “Ruined? How did she in any way ruin anything?” He shook his head as he met her embarrassed gaze. “If anything, her attempting to browbeat her way into our relationship allowed us to inform her that she will not be allowed to bully us into anything. Including financially supporting her or your aunt or their families.” He kissed her head. “I meant what I said. You are my family now. You. Not her. Not her family. I will care for you in every way I can.”

  “Oh, Jeremy, thank you,” she whispered. “Please be patient with me as I overcome the doubts and insecurities I’ve had to battle for so many years.”

  He nodded, his gaze intense and sincere. “As long as you don’t doubt my love or my commitment to you, Ellie.” At her nod, he pulled her close, sighing with pleasure as she wrapped her arms more securely around him.

  Chapter 28

  Two days later Clarissa sat on the sofa in her living room, rocking back and forth as she fought panic. As she battled back a sense of tragic déjà vu. Her chestnut hair was a disheveled, dull mess down her back, and she hadn’t changed her wrinkled green linen dress from the previous day. She clasped her hands together underneath her chin, biting her lip, as she battled images of her little boy crying. Harmed. Dead in a river. Closing her eyes, she attempted to banish that last image, but it was the image she could not dispel.

  The children were all at Colin’s house, as Gabriel had not wanted them to witness any police questioning. He had also desired to safeguard them, in case they received troubling news. However, Clarissa wished they were near her, so she could embrace them and could ensure herself that her other children were well. She refused to use the word remaining.

  Delia sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Clarissa,” she murmured. “I know Aidan is doing everything possible to find Little Colin.”

  Clarissa nodded her understanding of Delia’s words but continued to stare into space. “The authorities thought we would be happy he was taken from us,” she whispered in a dazed voice. “Because of his inability to hear.” She shook her head in a confused manner. “How can they be so simpleminded? So cruel?”

  “It’s their job to say outlandish things and to see if something strikes a chord, dear. I doubt they truly meant it.” Delia squeezed her shoulder and raised her gaze to look at a haggard-looking Gabriel.

  He swallowed his tenth cup of coffee for the day, his eyes bloodshot and red rimmed. His black-and-gray hair stood on end from yanking it in frustration, and his jaw was firmed in a resolute frown. “Rissa,” he rasped, as he knelt in front of her. He waited for some response from his wife and then set down his coffee cup. “Rissa,” he said again, as he clasped her hands.

  She focused on him, her desolate gaze meeting his. “I failed him, Gabe.”

  He gripped her head gently between his large palms. “No, you didn’t. I’m certain Mrs. Smythe enticed him away somehow. This had nothing to do with being a good parent.” He kissed her, his gentle and loving touch earning a soft sob from her. “Our boy will come home to us, and he will be well.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked in a plaintive wail. “All I can think of is Ror—”

  He raised his fingers, cutting her off. “This is not the past repeating itself. We will not lose another child.” His jaw ticked as though he too were fighting just such a panic. “We will be a family of six again soon.” He sighed as she tumbled forward into his embrace and shook with sobs.

  “I hate her,” she gasped out. “I hate what she allowed to happen to me, but I was a grown woman. How can she use our child, our baby, as a pawn?”

  Gabriel’s hold on her remained gentle, although his eyes gleamed with loathing. “I don’t know, my love. I … It’s beyond understanding.” He settled, so that she remained in his arms.

  When the door burst open, a frazzled and disheveled Aidan strode inside with Richard on his heels.

  “Any news?” Gabriel asked.

  “There’s little to go on,” Aidan said. “However, one of the detectives I hired yesterday from Butte believes that he has a lead on a woman traveling with a young boy. They weren’t on a train but traveled by hired wagon. He’s searching for the man who drove them.”

  “Wagon? Why not use an autom
obile?” Gabriel asked.

  Aidan shrugged. “That is the information we have. He’ll search until he has answers and then discover what he finds. We must remain patient.”

  “What have the police discovered?” Clarissa asked.

  Richard rubbed at his head, his blue eyes filled with frustration. “Very little. They have wired stations east and west of here, and are following up on their own leads, but they are reluctant to share anything with us.” He flushed. “One of them said they don’t like to discuss much with the family until the child is found, in case the family was in cahoots with the kidnappers.”

  “Fools.” Gabriel shared a long look with his brother. “Still no word from Jeremy?”

  Richard shrugged. “When he left, all we were worried about was that western tradition of serenading him and his bride. We thought he was smart to conceal the location of his first honeymoon. Now we’re fools for not knowing.”

  The group turned to the front door, as a loud racket heralded the arrival of Sophronia as she thumped her cane against the doorjamb and then on the floor. She pushed her way past Aidan and Richard to sit with an appreciative sigh near Clarissa. “Now, my darling Clarissa,” she said, as she stroked Clarissa’s head, “I cannot even imagine what you are suffering. What you are feeling.” She paused as anger and fear battled for supremacy in her gaze. “However, I know that woman believes she is more cunning than she truly is. She will not outsmart these fine McLeod men, nor the investigators hired to find your boy. Be patient, and soon you will hold your son in your arms again.”