Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four

by Ramona Flightner

  Clarissa paled, although her hand remained on Gabriel’s arm. “Patrick has family now. He’s not alone, and we’ll ensure he is taken care of,” she snapped. “He doesn’t depend on your charity.”

  Patrick’s eyes flashed with a deep emotion. “Sam—Henry—why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

  “For all intents, I am Samuel Sanders, your superior at the Company.” He flashed gloating, amused eyes at Clarissa. “I realized how dull-witted you must be to not recognize your husband’s dead mother’s name. Although, of course, why anyone would mourn her is beyond me. Stupid cow, marrying that worthless Irish peasant.”

  Gabriel roared, breaking free of the hold Colin had on him and leapt at Henry, slamming his fist into his jaw and then his belly. “Don’t you ever speak of my mother, your aunt, in such a disrespectful way again.” He watched as Henry stood with his hands on his knees, pulling in gasps of air. “Don’t you dare touch my wife again, either.”

  The tension slowly faded from Gabriel as Clarissa rubbed a hand down his back. “Darling,” she whispered. “He isn’t worth it.”

  Gabriel glanced around, blanching to realize his children had seen him attack Henry. Savannah stood against the far wall, quivering after watching his exhibition of violence. “Forgive me,” he said, pushing past Henry and rushing from the room.

  Araminta sprang into action, herding the children into a back room and shutting the door behind her.

  Patrick released Jeremy, and he rolled his shoulders a few times, easing the tension and loosening his muscles in case he needed to further the work begun by his brother. Jeremy approached and knelt so his face was even with Henry’s as Henry remained bent over in pain after Gabriel’s blows.

  “You remember what this feels like, cousin? Always on the losing end of a McLeod fist.” His smile a mixture of pride and a sneer, he goaded his cousin. “We should write Richard so he could come visit. He always enjoyed beating on you the most.”

  Henry reared up, fists flying, but Jeremy dodged his wild jabs and grabbed him by the lapels, slamming him against the nearby wall, the force of impact dislodging a decorative plate. It crashed to the floor, a counterpoint to the men’s groans as they struggled against one another.

  “You might still have the fancy clothes. You might still have a position of power. But you have no hold over us. Not anymore.” They shared a long, malevolent glare as Jeremy held him against the wall so that Henry stood on his tiptoes. He gave him a final shake, Henry’s head thwacking against the wooden wall before Jeremy released him.

  Henry stroked a shaking hand over his previously pristine brown jacket. He straightened his tie and smoothed his pomaded hair. “You are making a grave mistake, treating me in such a manner.”

  Lucas stared at Patrick a moment, but Patrick remained mute, standing to one side of the room. “What do you think you could possibly do now? You might have had influence and power in Boston, but this isn’t Boston.” Lucas smiled at Savannah to reassure her. “My sister and her husband have successful, prosperous lives here.”

  “Built from her murdered husband’s money. The man she skewered to death. How do you think the townsfolk would react if they knew the truth?” He watched them with malicious glee at the thought of sharing such a tale.

  Savannah laughed. “Do you think the tale of my actions didn’t precede my arrival? That I haven’t had to prove I won’t murder the townsfolk over the past decade? That’s an old tale, Mr. Sanders.”

  He frowned as he looked at the group. “I’ll find a way. And I’ll make you sorry you ever treated me in such a vile manner.”

  Patrick stepped forward and raised a hand for silence. “Do you expect me to believe that, all those months ago, when you befriended me, you did so out of kindness?” His brown eyes hardened to the point they appeared as dark as coal. “From the moment you met me, you were plotting how to harm those I cared about. You never intended friendship.” Patrick took a step forward, his breathing quickening. “You didn’t come here tonight hoping to reestablish a connection with your cousins. You wanted to cause pain and discord.”

  Henry stood in front of them, disheveled and alone in his defiance. “I refuse to live in a world where a McLeod, or one of their family members, is more content than I am. Believe me. You will regret this.” He glared at those in the room, before spinning on his heel and storming out the front door.

  Gabriel roamed the upstairs of the workshop, pacing the familiar space as his mind raced. He paused, reaching back to massage his shoulders as he fought painful memories—Henry taunting him, calling him an orphan. Henry destroying the boxful of treasures he and his brothers cherished the night before they fled their aunt’s house. Henry discovering Gabriel with Clarissa in a coffee shop in Boston years later. He sat on an overturned crate, sighing as he attempted to banish the turmoil and anger Henry had evoked.

  “Thought I’d find you up here,” Jeremy said.

  “I thought you were spending the morning with Lucas.”

  “No way am I leaving you alone with your thoughts today, the day after seeing Henry again.” He pulled out a large box and sat on it. His roving gaze took in Gabriel’s disheveled clothes and day’s growth of beard. “Did you even go home last night?”

  “No.”

  Jeremy looked toward a small pallet near the far wall and frowned. “You’re letting him win, Gabe.”

  Gabriel firmed his jaw, his eyes ice cold. “I hate that he’s here in Montana. I hate that, after fourteen years, he’s come to this place where I sought to escape him and his mother.”

  “It’s a horrible irony he’s in Butte. Yet he doesn’t matter anymore. He never really did.”

  Gabriel took a deep breath, willing the tension to leave him. “Do you know what it was like when we were younger, to know, at any instant, one word from him could separate us? Could have forced us to an orphanage, where we would have had no say as to our future?” Gabriel asked. “That he’s a large part of the reason I left Boston? Left Clarissa? Left her to that fiend, Cameron?”

  He stood, turning to stare out the window, gripping the windowsill. “I hate him with everything I am.” Gabriel’s confession sounded as though ripped from him. “And I hate him even more for that.” He took a deep breath, his exhalation stuttering. “Every time he had the opportunity to show compassion, he showed us contempt. Every chance for kindness, he demonstrated malice.”

  “He taught us what we never wanted to be, Gabe,” Jeremy argued. “And he didn’t separate us. You wouldn’t have allowed it. Even if we had ended up in an orphanage, you would have found a way to keep us together.”

  Gabriel turned to Jeremy, his eyes lit with anger. “Why is he here? He has no reason to be here. Amalgamated is in Butte, not Missoula.”

  Jeremy sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s always enjoyed riling you, and you’re allowing him to get what he wants.” Jeremy watched him intently. “Henry left, Gabe. On the first train out this morning back to Butte. I ensured he was on it.” Jeremy frowned at Gabriel’s lack of reaction to his news.

  Gabriel raised his head as he heard a few thunks from downstairs. “Mr. A.J.’s here.”

  “Good. Maybe he’ll be able to talk some sense into you.” He slung an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders and tugged him away from the window and down the stairs. “A.J., we have a problem and need your help.”

  “What’s the problem, Sonny?” he asked, frowning as he beheld Gabriel. “Don’t tell me yer fightin’ with Missy again? I cain’t believe I was sick yesterday an’ missed the gatherin’.”

  “No, everything is fine with her,” Gabriel said. He walked to the door and shut it, placing the room largely in darkness. He pulled over an unvarnished chair and sat next to Mr. Pickens. Jeremy did the same.

  “Well, what’s got ye so upset?” Mr. A.J. smacked his lips as he fought a frown.

  “Our cousin was in town. He befriended Clarissa’s brother, Patrick, in Butte, using a different name. Unbeknownst to her brother
, he’s our cousin who relished tormenting us when we were children,” Gabriel said as he fisted and unfisted one of his hands repeatedly, as though to ease his tension.

  Mr. A.J. frowned. “Sonny, ye ain’t that boy no more. Yer brothers are grown men, able to care for themselves. There ain’t no need for such bitterness.” He reached out a hand to Gabriel, setting it atop his hand to still his movement.

  “I know what you say is true. But seeing him again …” He paused as he shook his head, his voice shattered. “It’s like I’m twelve, fighting to keep my family together.”

  “What’d ye do to save yer family, Sonny?”

  “Gave up school, apprenticed with Old Man Harris. Ensured we had a place to go each day where we felt wanted.” Gabriel’s eyes squinted shut.

  “Knowin’ ye as I do, seein’ how ye treat my Missy with the care ye do, ye could never doubt ye did enough for yer brothers.”

  “I know. I never wanted to see any of my mother’s family again. They have no right to come here, to tarnish the memories I have with my family here.”

  “Seems to me they’re only tarnished if ye let ’em be,” Mr. A.J. said with a thunk of his cane. “Only if ye allow him to affect ye so.”

  “I don’t know if I’m capable of not hating him.”

  “I know Preacher won’t agree with me, but it’s all right to hate, Sonny. Some people do us enough harm, we can’t ever like ’em. Just don’t be consumed by it,” he cautioned.

  “You have a good life, Gabe,” Jeremy urged. “Focus on all you have, not on the hurts from the past.”

  “I’m worried about what his presence could mean. What sort of mischief he will wreak,” Gabriel said. “For wherever Henry goes, he brings with him calamities.”

  “At least with regard to us,” Jeremy said with a wry smile.

  “As I told my Missy, don’t go lookin’ for trouble. It’ll find ye easy enough,” Mr. A.J. said. “Enjoy what ye have, Sonny. A beautiful wife and children. Friends. A home.”

  Gabriel opened eyes filled with embarrassment to A.J. “I struck him yesterday.”

  “Good,” A.J. proclaimed with a resounding thunk. “Sounds like he needed it.”

  Gabriel shook his head with remorse. “My children saw me act like a barbarian. I scared Savannah. I hated myself reacting like that. It’s not who I am.”

  Mr. A.J. raised his cane, prompting Gabriel to lean away, lest he be hit in the chest with the tip of it. “Not goin’ home at night for the comfort my Missy could give ye ain’t like ye either, Sonny. Ye need to ignore this man. He ain’t nothin’ to ye now.”

  Gabriel ran a tired hand over his face. “I know.”

  Jeremy slapped him on his back. “Go home, Gabe. Sav’s already forgiven you. She hates violence, mainly because it reminds her of what she lived through. But she understands it’s necessary at times. She forgave me for fighting him after you left.”

  “Violence never solves anything,” Gabriel said with a rueful shake of his head.

  “Don’t know about that, Sonny. I imagine ye felt mighty good givin’ that whippersnapper a wallop or two.” He chortled with glee. “Just wish I coulda seen it!”

  Gabriel stood and slapped A.J. on his shoulder. “Thanks, Old Man.”

  “Anytime, Sonny,” he wheezed, beaming his toothless smile.

  Gabriel walked the short distance home, his mind racing. He entered through the kitchen door to find it empty. Dishes sat out to dry on the rack by the sink, the only sign of breakfast from that morning. He walked through the house, devoid of his children’s voices and laughter. He crept up the stairs, poking his head into his children’s rooms to find them empty. He sighed, walking into his room, coming to a halt to find Clarissa sitting at her vanity.

  She raised startled eyes to his but didn’t turn to him or stand. “How was your evening?” She fidgeted with the jewelry on top of her vanity.

  “Rissa, I’m sorry. I was …” He sighed and approached her. She finally turned to face him, and he sat on the edge of the bed, their legs tangling. “Ashamed.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “The children saw me. I never wanted them to see me like that.” He lowered his face into his palms, resting his elbows on his knees.

  She reached forward to massage his head, running her fingers through his thick black mane of hair. Her hands moved to his nape, massaging his shoulders. “Darling, they weren’t afraid of you. Billy thought you were dashing and brave. Geraldine wanted to know who the mean man was who said horrible things about your mother. Myrtle waited with me in the rocking chair until she fell asleep because she wanted to hug you before bed.”

  He raised shocked eyes to her. “You can’t be serious.”

  She smiled, tracing her hands over his cheeks. “Of course I am. He’s a horrible person, and he hurt you dreadfully. But, just as I had to put Cameron firmly in my past, so must you with Henry.”

  Gabriel groaned as he pulled Clarissa from the bench and hauled her onto his lap. “I’m humbled, over and over again, at your strength. Your resilience,” he whispered into her ear. “Forgive me for not coming home.”

  “There’s no need for forgiveness,” she said as she nuzzled his ear, kissing down his neck, along his jaw and then raising up to kiss him on the lips. He groaned, clasping her head between his palms as the kiss deepened.

  “Where are the children?” he asked, easing away to pepper her jaw, collarbone and chest with kisses.

  “With Araminta. They won’t be home for hours.”

  She shrieked as he rose, toppling her onto the bed. “Good.” His eyes gleamed with passionate intent, and he kissed her once before he rose and strode to the door, closing and locking it. He paused, as he beheld her on their bed, hair mussed and lips swollen from his caresses and kisses. “I need you, darling.”

  She beamed at him, holding a hand out to him. He grasped her hand, tugging her up to quickly shuck her of her clothes before easing her back to the bed, a bright shaft of sunlight limning her body. His hands followed the beam of light, his whisper-soft touches eliciting sighs and broken pleas.

  She pushed at his shoulders, earning a laugh as he tumbled to the side. She moved to stretch atop him, smoothing her hands over his arms and chest. He leaned up, nipping her on her mouth. She backed away, holding his searing gaze with hers. “He’ll never take away what we have. As long as we continue to fight, day by day, for this, we’ll always have more than he could ever imagine.”

  Gabriel groaned, rolling with her so she was underneath him and kissed her deeply. “I love you, Rissa. I always will.”

  She kissed him again, easing the torment in his heart, helping him to forget the world outside their room for a few short hours.

  19

  Boston, October 1913

  Zylphia wandered the formal sitting room, tracing a finger along the polished mahogany side tables before walking to a bookshelf, eyeing porcelain knickknacks, then moved to sit on a cushioned window seat. Sheer curtains covered the windows, allowing in a muted light from the front garden. The scent of late-season roses wafted inside, and she closed her eyes as she listened to the trilling of the songbirds.

  “Five minutes. I will allow five more minutes,” she murmured to herself.

  “Five more minutes for what?” a man with a deep voice asked, startling her from her musings as she jerked her head toward the doorway.

  “To await the arrival of your mother for tea.” She frowned at Theodore Goff, dressed casually in faded gray pants, a wrinkled white linen shirt with a loosely knotted tie and a misbuttoned cranberry-colored waistcoat.

  “You’ll be waiting longer than five minutes.” His sardonic smile eased her tension. “I spoke with the butler, and Mother’s out until she must return to change for a dinner function. Are you sure you are here on the correct day?”

  “She wrote me a note inviting me to tea on October 27 to discuss her exciting ideas about the orphanage. As my mother is out of town, I believe your mother wished to speak with m
e.”

  Teddy frowned. “I’m sorry, Zylphia. My mother is … impulsive at times. She must have received another invitation and forgot her desire to speak with you.”

  Zylphia rose, her forest-green tea-dress settling at her ankles. “I have no wish to interrupt your afternoon, Mr. Go—Teddy. If you will excuse me …”

  “Stay for tea with me?” he asked, flushing at his impulsive request. “I know it’s not entirely proper, but the house is filled with staff, and I’d hate for you to leave without having refreshments.” He motioned for her to sit again while moving to the hallway to speak with someone about a tea tray.

  Teddy sat on a chair near hers, hooking his foot under a nearby table so the soon-to-arrive tray would be near them.

  “I’ve heard your stories of being raised in England, but you don’t seem nearly proper enough,” Zylphia murmured.

  Teddy flinched. “My mother despairs of me having proper manners. I know how to act when necessary, and I hope I won’t embarrass you with any unforgiveable faux pas.”

  Zylphia laughed. “I must admit that I’m always afraid I’ll say or do something wrong, so not having to worry that I’ll stir my tea in an inappropriate manner is a relief.”

  He watched her with a warm light in his eyes. “Is there an improper way to stir tea?”

  “Yes, and I’ve done it.”

  Teddy laughed, relaxing into his chair as the tea was delivered. He motioned to the table in front of them and indicated with a nod of his head for the maid to leave.

  “I find it impressive how well you communicate without speaking,” Zylphia said as she poured them each a cup. He nodded as she held up the sugar, holding up his hand to indicate enough after two cubes had been added.

  “I am known as the absentminded inventor who locks himself away in his laboratory. I wouldn’t want to waste words if I don’t have to.”