Undaunted Love (PART TWO): Banished Saga, Book 3.5

by Ramona Flightner

  “Gabriel,” I said as I held his knuckles to my heart. “I used to imagine him dead and what a joyful place the world would be without him in it. Instead, everything went wrong. Sebastian lost his job, Amelia the hope for her future, and I had no more peace than when Cameron lived.”

  I took a deep breath. “He’s away from us. He might not be dead, but he’s away from us and unlikely to cause us any harm.”

  “You have more faith in his nature than I do,” Gabriel said.

  I shook my head with haunted eyes. “No, I have none where it concerns Cameron. But I have faith in us and our life.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “AMELIA, YOU LOOK TERRIBLE,” I said as I entered Aidan’s kitchen.

  “Clarissa!” Amelia said as she rushed toward me. “Oh, it is good to see you. How was your journey? Your father’s funeral? I hope you had time to visit everyone.” She pushed me toward a chair in the kitchen and moved toward the stove to put on the kettle.

  “Amelia, I’m fine. It was lovely to be in Boston, but I’m happy to have returned home.”

  “Lovely?” Amelia asked with an amused smile. “It seems to me, you always use that word when you aren’t really delighted but are trying to act as though you are.”

  I laughed. “You’ve seen through me. I liked seeing my family, but I missed Montana. I missed my life here.”

  “You missed Gabriel.”

  “Of course.” I played with the edge of a fraying napkin. “How are things with Sebastian?”

  “You’ve just returned, Clarissa. There’s no need to worry you.”

  “I think there is. I’m concerned about him. What is he doing now that he’s no longer the foreman?”

  “He’s still recovering from his wounds, although he’s about healed. I think he’ll soon move away. He’ll want to start fresh after what has happened here.”

  “Oh, Amelia. But what about …”

  “About?”

  “About the two of you?” I asked hesitantly.

  “There’s nothing but friendship between us, Clarissa.”

  I watched her with sorrowful eyes as she moved with agitated movements around the kitchen. “I know that’s not true.”

  “That’s all that can be true,” she snapped before exhaling a deep breath. “Forgive me. I’m a bit short-tempered just now. He told me that he was to leave here right after New Year’s.” She sat across from me with stooped shoulders. I’d never seen her with such little spirit. Even when she was battling for baby Anne’s life, she had a determination to continue to fight. Now a deep resignation seemed to have settled over her.

  “I’m sorry, Amelia,” I said, reaching out to grip her hand.

  “I told myself not to care for him. Not to become attached. But the heart’s not logical.” Amelia blinked away tears. “He’s wonderful with the children, and I don’t know how Nicholas will survive the loss of another …”

  “Man who’s like a father?” I whispered.

  “I tried to keep them separated, but it was impossible. Nicholas was constantly in Mr. Carlin’s room, and I didn’t have the heart to separate them when Nicholas sounded delighted and happy. And Mr. Carlin always showed such interest in him, even when Nicholas’s great accomplishment was finding a colorful leaf.”

  “I know this is more than just your concern about your children.” I gripped her hand.

  “I’d begun to hope for a future too,” Amelia admitted. “I’d already lost one with Liam, and, to lose the hope of another, it’s almost too much to bear.” She let out a stuttering breath as though she were stifling a sob.

  “But you don’t have to lose anything. You could go with him.”

  “And live on what? He has no job, no income. I survive solely due to the charity of Mr. McLeod. I have to think about my children, more than myself. For I’d never forgive myself if they were to know hunger or suffer due to my selfishness.”

  “But you love each other,” I whispered.

  Her eyes glowed a brilliant blue. “Yes, Rissa. And he and I know it’s not enough.”

  “You believe he’s innocent?” I bit my lip as I watched her flush with anger.

  “I’ve always known him to be wrongly accused. Although I’ve learned that means little when those who are vindictive are set on obtaining their version of justice.”

  I smiled. “I have news that might help, although I don’t know how much it will change things. I had hoped Mr. Bouchard had yet to find a new foreman.”

  “I’ve never seen a more vengeful pair, Clarissa. Mr. Bouchard—rigid in his righteousness in hiring a new foreman. And Mrs. Bouchard—marching around town in her outlandish clothes, proclaiming how her family has suffered at the hands of the unrighteous. It’s enough to make me want to slap her.”

  “What do the townsfolk say?” I asked.

  “In the beginning, they were sympathetic. Now many hide when they see or hear her coming.”

  I giggled. “Which wouldn’t be hard.”

  “I know. What’s the most difficult is her inability to admit that she has any part to play in any of this,” Amelia said. “She’s the one who wanted Mr. Wright to work there.”

  “I imagine she’s also the one who convinced Mr. Bouchard to give Cameron the combination to the safe,” I said.

  “What?” Amelia gasped.

  “Cameron didn’t die, Amelia. He’s alive and well in Boston. I saw him and spoke with him while I was there. He even boasted about leaving Missoula with money. I know it’s the money from the mill. He even mentioned receiving the safe’s combination that very week, although he never plainly said he took its contents.”

  “Although he intimated it?” a deep voice growled behind me.

  “Sebastian!” I exclaimed. “It’s wonderful to see you up and about again.”

  “Tell me all, Clarissa. I’ll board the next train and …”

  “There’s no need,” I said as I patted his hand once as he sat between Amelia and me. I began, telling them an abbreviated version of my interaction with Cameron while in Boston, finishing with “A newspaperman is looking into Cameron’s story. He’s contacting reporters from The Daily Missoulian. I hope there’s an article soon to vindicate you.”

  I studied Sebastian, his lanky frame filled out and looking healthier than when he’d been working. “I’d hoped to see you looking the picture of health after weeks of Amelia’s care, and I’m glad to see I’m not disappointed.”

  He scrubbed his cheek and a fine layer of red stubble. “It’s hard not to eat such delicious food when surrounded by it.”

  He half smiled and rose, limping as he moved to leave. “It’s not just good cooking that I need but exercise.” He paused in the kitchen doorway. “I’m going to take the doctor’s advice and go out for a bit.”

  “Don’t overexert yourself,” Amelia admonished. Sebastian and Amelia shared a heated, intense look filled with longing before he nodded toward her, and I heard the front door click shut.

  “Did Colin come home with you?” Amelia asked.

  “No, he didn’t. He decided to stay and work at the forge with Richard. I don’t know when, or if, he’ll return.”

  “Oh, Rissa,” Amelia murmured. “I can only imagine how hard that will be for you.”

  “I just want him to be happy. Although it didn’t seem like he wanted to remain in Boston. In fact he said he couldn’t wait to leave soon after we arrived. Later he changed his mind about staying. He feels tremendous guilt he wasn’t with Da.”

  “Did your horrid stepmother have anything to say to influence him?” Amelia asked as she filled my mug.

  “Of course. She said we were ungrateful, and my da wouldn’t have died had Colin been there to help him work at the smithy.”

  “What a bunch of mean-spirited rubbish.”

  I smiled bitterly in agreement. “She didn’t even want me to see my sister, although Colin and I managed to visit her once. Mrs. Smythe feared I’d influence her, if I spent any time with her.”

  �
��Horrid woman. We heard about Aidan buying the smithy for Richard.”

  I let out a long sigh. “Yes, it was the best solution and allowed the forge to stay in the family. Colin decided to remain in Boston for a while to help Richard with the transition and to run the smithy when Richard and Florence have their baby. It will allow Richard to have a few days at home with Flo.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of him. It’s such a comfort to have your husband with you after a baby is born.”

  “I agree, although I’ll continue to hope he returns to Montana,” I said.

  ***

  “GABE, RONAN,” SEBASTIAN SAID as he entered the workshop. He nodded to a man speaking with Ronan and wandered over to Gabriel on the far side of the workshop.

  “Seb,” Gabriel said, “I imagine you saw Clarissa and are curious.” He flicked a glance to the man next to Ronan, indicating their need to speak of other matters for a few minutes.

  “She looked well. I know you’d hoped she’d return for Christmas. I’m glad she did.” Sebastian moved around the back area, with only a slight limp to hint at the accident.

  “How’s your leg?”

  Sebastian stomped his foot, nodding to indicate all was fine. “Better, although it’ll never be as strong as it was.”

  “Give it time, Seb. It’s only been a few months, and you haven’t challenged yourself at all.”

  Sebastian gave a chagrined smile. “I’ve grown lazy, eating Amelia’s delicious food, having her fuss over me.”

  Gabriel glanced toward the front of the shop, seeing the other man leaving, but stopping from saying any more until Ronan rolled to the door and latched it shut. He then rolled toward them and settled his chair. “What brings you by, Seb?” His alert gaze looked Sebastian up and down, taking in his freshly laundered brown pants, cream-colored flannel shirt and tan jacket. “You seem more at ease today.”

  “I imagine it’s because of something Clarissa said. I haven’t been able to speak with you yet today, Ro, as the shop’s been busy with customers,” Gabriel said. “She told me late last night that Cameron didn’t die.”

  Ronan stilled his movements in his chair, and Sebastian watched him with a fierce frown. “I just spoke with her, but it seems too fantastical to be true. She’s certain?” Sebastian asked.

  “As she told you, she had tea with the man,” Gabriel said. “Bold as could be, he sat next to her and conversed with her in a tea shop in Boston. Wasn’t even trying to hide. Thought he’d outwitted all of us out here.”

  Sebastian slammed down his hand on a piece of raw wood as he paced, his limp making it more of a lumbering, stuttering movement due to his agitation. “That son of a—” He broke off, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Why did he kill a decent man like Tommy?”

  “He saw a way out, a way to make money, and took it. He wouldn’t concern himself with the fact he had to commit murder in order to obtain his goal.”

  Ronan scowled. “We know the kind of man he is, chasing after a woman who doesn’t want him.” He met Gabriel’s gaze. “Did he harm Clarissa?”

  Gabriel’s face lightened, the frown replaced with a hint of a smile as pride shone from his eyes. “No, she freed herself from him when he surprised her, hitting him where it counts.”

  “Good,” Ronan and Sebastian said at the same time.

  “What does this mean for Seb?” Ronan asked. He traced his mustache and then scratched his beard.

  “Colin arranged for a reporter to listen in, and he’s going to contact people here in Missoula. I’d imagine he’s already done that, as Clarissa met with Cameron over a week ago. Soon the townspeople will know what a charlatan Cameron was.”

  “It won’t get me back my job,” Sebastian said.

  “I’d think Mr. Bouchard would be honor bound to restore you to your previous position,” Gabriel argued.

  “And if I were to take it, I’d rob the post from a man who moved here specifically for it and turn him out of a job. He’s a wife and children to care for.” He vibrated with anger and frustration.

  “One could say you do too,” Ronan murmured.

  “Don’t start, Ro,” Sebastian hissed.

  “It’s about time someone did. Are you planning on playing with Amelia’s feelings, having her children become attached to you and then simply leaving?” Gabriel demanded. “She deserves better than that. Hell, you do too. Look at you.” Gabriel waved a hand, going from Sebastian’s feet to his head. “You’ve never looked better. You’ve finally lost that scrawny, in-need-of-food look. Amelia’s good for you.”

  “No one has to convince me of that. Hell, I’ve known that for months. I’ve known she’d be good for me since the moment I met her. I have no job to offer her. When I was foreman at the mill, I had a proper income. I had a home I could offer her. I’ve nothing now, Gabe.” He sighed, the frustration and fight leaving him, as his shoulders stooped, and he became more dejected. “I’m living off your uncle’s charity and her good graces.”

  “You’ll find something again,” Ronan argued. “You’re a good foreman. They’ll want you back.”

  “I’m a half-crippled ex-foreman,” Sebastian said. “Anyone’d be a fool to hire me.”

  A loud knocking on the door caused Gabriel to start and turn toward it, opening it. “Yes?” He frowned quizzically at the paperboy standing in front of him, holding out a paper. “How can I help you?”

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d read the paper, sir, and I know you were connected with the man.” He held out a copy of The Daily Missoulian.

  Gabriel scanned the headlines, reaching into his pocket to extract a coin. “Thank you. Much obliged.” He nodded halfheartedly to the boy before closing the door in his face and latching it again.

  “Gabe?” Sebastian asked.

  “Look what we have here. Redemption!” Gabriel held the paper high, moving toward his friends so they could huddle around the paper and read it together.

  ***

  “MR. PICKENS, I’M BACK,” I said as I climbed the stairs. I paused as I noted the books out of order and not in their rightful place in Gabriel’s bookshelves.

  “Everythin’ all right out there in that big city, Missy?” he asked as he thumped out of the back room before collapsing into his chair.

  “As settled as it’s going to become,” I said. “What’s going on here?”

  “Oh, they’ve been spendin’ all their time arguin’ over the wordin’ for an application”—his eyes twinkled at the big word—“for a library from Carnegie himself.”

  “Do you think he’ll grant us the money?” I gasped, holding my breath.

  “Seein’ as this is a too-small space for the likes of the townsfolk, I think we’ll have a chance. The Prattlin’ Prisses haven’t had as much time to spend here keeping things orderly.”

  “We need a full-time librarian,” I said as I set down my purse, took off my hat and gloves, and moved to the books that were out of place. “These are in the correct section, just need to be placed in order. At least it’s not as bad as when I started here,” I grumbled.

  “Now, who’d be needin’ a book when all they need to do is read the newspaper or listen to one of the sisters for anything more interestin’ than you could find elsewhere?”

  “Don’t you start, Mr. A.J.,” I said with an inelegant snort.

  “I’d thought by now that man you’d married would’ve seen a way to help his friend.”

  “He’s doing what he can,” I said. I grimaced as I heard the raised voices of the sisters as they climbed the stairs to the depository. I moved toward Mr. Pickens and faced the doorway.

  “Ah, so you’ve returned. To gloat after your trip to the East,” Mrs. Vaughan said.

  “Although you are as shabbily dressed as when you left,” Mrs. Bouchard sniped.

  “I’d thought you’d be able to visit a decent modiste while you were in that big city,” Mrs. Vaughan said, holding her palms out at her sides as though to exemplify such in her shimmering satin d
ress with pearl buttons in a rich pumpkin color.

  “I traveled to Boston for my father’s funeral. I had little time to worry about the latest fashion.” I clenched my hands at my side and attempted to speak in a calm tone.

  “Your shame knows no bounds,” Mrs. Bouchard said. “Returning here, continuing to perpetuate the falsehood that you have a happy marriage when anyone can see it is a lie. You ruined my daughter’s chances to have a successful future because you couldn’t bear to see anyone else happy.”

  “If you truly believe that, you are devoid of any compassion or goodness,” I rasped.

  Mr. Pickens thumped on his cane and leaned forward as though he were going to speak. However, he was forestalled at the sound of boots running up the stairs.

  I looked toward the door as Gabriel entered. He paused as he noted the sisters. “Rissa, I had to show you this.” He thrust the newspaper at me, and I gasped as I read. I held it so Mr. Pickens could read it with me. “Dead Man Rises from the Ashes to Reunite with Family in Boston.”

  Mr. Pickens hooted with glee and thunked his cane down a few times with his pleasure. “Seems you were too busy for fashion all right, Missy!” he chortled as he looked at the picture Florence took of Cameron leaning in toward me. “What do you have to say about this, mouthy?” Mr. Pickens said, grabbing the paper from my hands and waving it toward the sisters.

  I took it from him and walked toward the sisters, holding it so they could read it. Mrs. Bouchard gasped and became so pale I worried she would faint. I looked around for a chair for her to sit on, but Mr. Pickens sat in the only available chair. “Lies, all lies,” she rasped, although her voice lacked conviction.

  “I saw him when I was in Boston. He relished speaking of his escape from the meddling mothers of Missoula,” I said.

  “Rissa,” Gabriel said in a soft warning tone as he placed a gentle hand on my arm.

  I took a deep breath, biting back further bitter words as I saw hurt and bewilderment flash across Mrs. Bouchard’s face. I reached for Gabriel’s hand, refusing to unleash the pent-up words stored within—to become like the women who had tormented me.