“No!” Jeremy shook his head, his gaze frantic. “Just let it be. I need … I need her things still.”
Gabriel froze as he watched his brother battling his grief. “Of course. Let me know what I can do, so I don’t do something that brings you pain rather than eases it.”
Jeremy nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered to both of them. “For ensuring I was all right tonight.”
Colin rose and squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder. “Someday, Jer, you’ll be much better than all right.” He shared a worried look with Gabriel as Jeremy sat in a dazed stupor, disbelieving Colin’s words.
* * *
Patrick walked through the long hallway in Savannah and Jeremy’s house, looking for Fiona and Rose. He paused as he found Fiona asleep on a wicker chair in the back sitting room. Her red-gold hair had slipped from its pins and now framed her face. He frowned, in deep concentration, as she never rested during the day. “Fee?” he whispered.
He gave her a concerned smile as she forced herself awake. “Fee, love,” he murmured as he squeezed her hand. “Are you all right?”
“Forgive me,” she said around a huge yawn. “I should be at Clarissa’s, helping to cook tonight’s dinner. There is such a horde of us here for the christening tomorrow.” She moved to rise, but he motioned for her to remain where she was.
“Where is Rose?” Patrick pushed her hair behind her ears.
“She’s with Araminta. She stopped by a little while ago on her way to the park with the other children.” She looked down. “I shouldn’t have felt such relief at a few moments of rest.”
“Why are you tired, Fee? I thought you slept well last night.” He paled. “Are you ill? Is it the influenza?”
She shook her head and blinked away tears. “No, ’tis nothing like that.” She clasped his hand and kissed his palm. “I meant to tell you last night, but then we were celebrating being together as a family. ’Tis selfish of me, but I wanted my own moment.”
His brows furrowed as he studied her. “You’re with child. You’re to have my child,” he breathed. His eyes widened with wonder as she flushed, her gaze a mixture of pride and remorse. “I should have known. You haven’t had your courses in a few months.”
“Patrick!” she said on an embarrassed laugh, tapping him on his shoulder.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” At her nod, he whooped and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, my darling, thank you.” He held her close, his arms roving over her back as though pulling her even tighter to him. After a moment, his body shuddered, and her hold on him tightened.
“Oh, my love,” she whispered as she felt a sob burst free of him. “We miss her. We will always miss her.”
“It’s not right! Melly should know our child. She should have tutored her in the ways of Mr. Pickens and taught her to be just and strong, like she was.” He shuddered as another sob burst forth. “Our child should know her aunt Savannah.”
“Cry, my love,” Fiona whispered into his ear as she rocked him.
After long moments, he pulled back, his eyes a fathomless depth of grief, joy, sorrow and hope. “I rejoice at our news, Fee.” At her nod of understanding, he sighed and rested his head on her shoulder. “I wish …”
“I know,” she whispered. “But nothing will change what happened, my darling.”
* * *
Clarissa entered the front door to Savannah and Jeremy’s house and paused. “Jeremy’s house,” she whispered to herself as she fought tears. She battled memories of hearing Savannah calling out to her from the kitchen, of Savannah singing in her back room, of Savannah’s laughter at Melinda’s antics. After a deep breath, Clarissa forced herself to climb the stairs to find Jeremy.
She poked her head into the room he had shared with Savannah and found it eerily empty. It looked as it did when they had departed for Boston and as though no one had ventured inside since Jeremy’s return. She turned away and knocked on another door after hearing Jeremy’s deep rumbly voice within. When he opened the door, holding a squirming Breandan in little more than a diaper, she fought a laugh.
“Here. Let me,” she said as she reached for the baby she considered her nephew. After kissing his dewy soft black hair, she carried him to the bed, where his christening outfit was laid out. “Where’s Nora?”
Jeremy shook his head in exasperation. “Like a fool, I told her that I didn’t need her help. She’s off somewhere, enjoying herself.”
Clarissa smiled and tickled Breandan’s stomach. “I’ll change him first and then get him in his clothes.” After adeptly changing his diaper and swaddling him in his christening gown, she smiled at Jeremy. “There. All done.” Her smile faded at Jeremy’s frown. “I’m sorry to have intruded.”
“No.” He held out a hand to forestall her rushing from the room. “I stare at you and how easy this is for you. And I wish …” He closed his eyes. “I can’t stop yearning for what can never be.”
Clarissa held Breandan in her arms as she approached Jeremy. “I can only imagine what you suffer, and the imagining is beyond bearing.” She lost her battle with tears, and they formed a silent stream down her cheeks.
“Why don’t you hate me?”
She stilled, her hold on Breandan tightening to the point Breandan gave a little chirp of disgruntlement. She met Jeremy’s intense, fierce green eyes, lit with self-loathing. “I could never hate you, Jeremy. You did everything you could to protect those you loved most.” She sniffled and kissed Breandan’s head. “The influenza is a tragedy no one knew was coming.”
“If …” He shook his head.
She reached forward and gripped his hand. “You can’t live life that way. Savannah only knew love and devotion and joy the fifteen years she had with you. You shared sorrows. You had arguments, but you showed her what love and honor truly are.” She blinked, and two more tears fell. “I could have asked for no better man for Savannah.”
He pulled her tight, squeezing Breandan between them. “Thank you, Rissa. I thought … I thought I’d lose your regard after I lost them.”
“Never, Jeremy.”
* * *
The large family gathering after the christening took place in Jeremy’s house, as it was the only home large enough to hold all of them with ease at one time. Clarissa, Araminta, Genevieve, Hester and Fiona worked at a feverish pace in the kitchen, although Clarissa was largely relegated to washing pans and chopping produce. Children ran through the house, while the man of the hour slept in a crib in Jeremy’s study, impervious to the noise made by his older cousins. The men sat in the front living room, close enough to hear Breandan if he cried, and far enough away from the kitchen to avoid being put to work.
“I still can’t believe Uncle Martin is here,” Clarissa said as she scrubbed a saucepan. “He looks marvelous.” Her eyes glowed with momentary delight as she recalled seeing him at the train station, her disbelief transformed into joy in an instant. His strong embrace eased a small fraction of the agony she felt at the loss of her cousin and sister.
“He seems a wonderful man,” Genevieve said with a smile. “I have enjoyed my conversations with him.”
“He is, and he’s quite different from his wife. He will take pride in anything Lizzie does,” Clarissa said with a smile. She looked at the small mound of pots and pans that needed washing up and glared at them. “I fail to see why all this needed to be dirtied!”
Araminta laughed. “You only say that because you’re doing the washing up.”
“When’s the wedding, Minta?” Fiona asked.
“We thought we’d marry next weekend.” She beamed at the women she considered family. “Colin wanted to wait for everyone to return from Boston before holding our wedding. Plus now the Armistice is signed, and the War is over. Time for celebrating many things.”
“Isn’t it hard to believe the War is over?” Genevieve asked. “I thought it was rather tidy, having the notice on the eleventh of November at 11:00 a.m.”
“Thank God, it is over,” Clarissa said. “I l
ived in fear that Colin or Gabriel would be drafted. It ended soon enough that they never were. I heard from Amelia that Nickie is well, although it may be some time before he returns from France.”
“France,” Genevieve murmured. “Can you imagine? I would think that he’d have trouble adjusting to small-town life again in Montana.”
“Amelia just wants him home,” Clarissa said with a shrug.
All of the women nodded in understanding.
“Savannah visited Paris,” Clarissa whispered. “On her honeymoon with her first husband.” She fought tears as she sniffled.
“Keep telling us her stories,” Genevieve urged. “You’re the one who knew her the longest, and we should not silence her memory in a shroud of grief.”
Clarissa nodded. She turned as Billy entered the kitchen, disgruntled by Myrtle taking over his favorite toy. Clarissa wiped her hands and moved with him to the living room, where the men had gathered. She stood in the doorway a moment, watching as the men chatted and told the tale of Mr. Pickens being chased by a moose. Ronan motioned with his arms as he told about Mr. Pickens climbing a tree while naked, and the men’s laughter filled the room.
Jeremy sat next to Uncle Martin and Gabriel, his gaze somber but not as devastated as in recent days. He appeared to enjoy the storytelling, although he did not join in. Uncle Martin leaned forward, avaricious in his curiosity about life in Montana and the stories they had to share. She bit back tears as he knit his way into their Montana family.
Lucas slung an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. “Why the tears, Rissa?”
“I’m already dreading when Uncle Martin has to return to Boston.”
Lucas chuckled. “He doesn’t. He sold the store. I suspect he’ll be here forever.”
She let out a deep breath. “Good. We’ve been separated long enough.” She turned, burying her face in his shoulder. “We can’t forget her, Lucas.”
“Never,” he whispered, holding Clarissa close a moment.
Soon the women had deemed their work completed in the kitchen, and they joined the men in the living room. The room was crowded but filled with joy as Breandan’s christening was celebrated.
After a moment Gabriel stood, and everyone quieted. “This has been a year of tremendous joys and sorrows. We have been blessed by the arrival of Lizzie and Breandan, and we will continue to mourn our beloved Savannah and Melinda. Colin will hopefully cease dithering …” Gabriel laughed as Colin chucked a dishtowel from Araminta’s arm at Gabriel. “… and we will soon have a wedding to celebrate.”
He looked at his family and cleared his throat, raising his glass high. “To the bonds that tie us together. To abiding love. To family.”
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Also by Ramona Flightner
Never fear, there will be one more book in the Banished Saga! My goal is to have it ready for September 2019. If you want to remain up to date on all my releases or specials that I only share with my newsletter subscribers, sign up for my newsletter.
The Banished Saga: (In order)
Banished Love
Reclaimed Love
Undaunted Love (Part One)
Undaunted Love (Part Two)
Tenacious Love
Unrelenting Love
Escape To Love
Resilient Love
Bear Grass Springs (In Order)
Montana Untamed
Montana Grit
Montana Maverick
Montana Renegade
Historical Notes
As you can imagine, there was quite a bit of research required for Abiding Love. In fact, I never envisioned writing an entire novel about 1918. My original plan was to write one novel encompassing 1917/1918, but then, as I dug into research, I realized the novel would be too long, or I’d have to scrimp on the story I wanted to tell. Thus, Resilient Love and Abiding Love were born.
During my research, I learned about the Sedition Act. Although I am from Montana, I had never learned about it while in school. As I learned more about the Act, and how difficult it was for ordinary citizens living under such a law, I knew I wanted to have that be a focal part of the novel. The scene where Colin is grilled by the committee members is quite similar to the way B.K. Wheeler was interrogated (although B.K.’s lasted for hours).
The word “slacker” was popularized during WWI for those shirking their patriotic duty or who were not willing to join the Army.
The Influenza (or Spanish Flu) started in the United States in Boston in August 1918 at a military hospital. It raged throughout the city in September, and finally waned in October. It was one of the hardest hit cities in the U.S.
Although Savannah did not choose to use Twilight Sleep, it had been in use for a few years in Boston by 1918.
About the Author
Ramona is a historical romance author who loves to immerse herself in research as much as she loves writing. A native of Montana, every day she marvels that she gets to live in such a beautiful place. When she’s not writing, her favorite pastimes are fly fishing the cool clear streams of a Montana river, hiking in the mountains, and spending time with family and friends.
Ramona’s heroines are strong, resilient women, the type of women you’d love to have as your best friend. Her heroes are loyal and honorable, men you’d love to meet or bring home to introduce to your family for Sunday dinner. She hopes her stories bring the past alive and allow you to forget the outside world for a while.
Abiding Love: Banished Saga, Book Eight Page 40
