Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two (36 page)

“Why does that make you sad, darling?”

“Because I know I might never see him again. Because he won’t be here to share in any aspect of my life. Because I left his house with such anger.”

“I’m sure your father understands why you are here. What compelled you to travel such a long distance.”

I choked back a sob and bent my head. I brushed away a strand of loose hair from my neck.

“Where is the necklace I gave you?”

“In my room. At the apartment.”

“Is it because I took so long to ask you to join me that you removed it?”

“No, Gabriel. My life might have been very different had you invited me sooner. But most likely not. I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I know I wouldn’t have traveled here until after the convention in Minneapolis even if you’d asked me earlier.”

I reached out to stroke his arm for a moment. “I’ve come to realize what really matters. You did write me. And I’m here now.”

Gabriel’s eyes flashed with a deep emotion, but he did not reach for me. “It saddens me that you aren’t wearing my necklace.”

“I never wanted to take it off. You can’t imagine what it was like to…”

“To what, Clarissa?” He reached out toward me, and I became rigid in anticipation. He encased my arms with his hands, caressing my upper arms.

I relaxed against his soothing embrace, shock coursing through me.

“Clarissa? Why the tears?”

“No, Gabe, it is nothing,” I replied.

A small, pleased smile flickered over his face. “That’s the first time you’ve called me
Gabe
that I can recall.” He again caressed my cheek, wiping away an errant tear. “You won’t get out of this so easily, Clarissa. Please tell me why you no longer wear my locket. Let me share the burden of this memory. I wasn’t there to help you at the time, but I can help you now to forget it.”

We shared a long look until I nodded in agreement. I took a steadying breath and reached out to clasp one of his hands with both of mine, holding our hands between us.

“It’s all right. Tell me,” Gabriel urged, gently massaging the side of my neck with his free hand.

I took another deep breath. “Cameron believed that I would marry him. When he saw me wearing your necklace, he became enraged and ripped it off me.”

“I’ll kill him if I ever see him again,” Gabriel said in a low, lethal voice. “How dare he treat you in such a way?” He gently cupped my face, looking into my eyes. Then his expression turned distant, as though remembering a nearly forgotten fact. “The scarf,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Jeremy wrote me about you wearing a scarf when you visited him once at the warehouse. He thought you had an injury because your neck looked red, but you left soon afterward and seemed fine the next time he saw you. It was one of the many allusions from Jeremy about his concern for you.” Gabriel’s voice and eyes hardened. “That occurred right after Cameron ripped the chain off of your neck.”

I nodded.

He looked at me, anger, hurt, regret flitting through his eyes. Finally he closed them for a moment, before opening them to watch me again. “What aren’t you telling me, Clarissa?” He continued to study me with his intense blue eyes, daring me to remain silent.

I swallowed once. “I told you why I’m not wearing your locket.”

“No, there’s more to this that you aren’t telling me,” Gabriel demanded.

“Don’t ask me,” I begged. “Not today.”

“You must believe, you must understand, that no one, no man, has the right to hurt you, threaten you, make you feel less in any way.”

I smiled leaning into him for the first time since my arrival, hopeful for a kiss. At that moment, there was a loud
clunk
on the door as something or someone barreled into it. I jerked away from Gabriel, looking toward the noise. Gabriel glared at the door, appearing upset to have this moment disturbed.

“Uncle! What brings you by?” he asked with a glower.

Aidan stood at the workshop door and glanced at the two of us with a slight squint, studying the scene and the mood. He looked down, seeming distressed to impart whatever news he had to tell. “Well, Gabriel, I hate to ruin the, ah, moment.” He paused, and I felt Gabriel tense next to me. “Mrs. Egan’s daughter, Anne, is very ill. She sent a message to me at the hotel, after word here went unanswered, and I came to find you.”

“Anne? Ill? With what?” Gabriel demanded, dumbstruck. “She was fine yesterday.”

“Appears a severe case of dysentery, from the sounds of it,” Aidan responded. Gabriel and Aidan stared at one another, as though frozen in place.

I interrupted their silent communication. “We must go to her, at once, to offer whatever help and support we can.” I looked toward Gabriel. “She’s alone here with a sick baby. She needs help from those she knows. And that would be the three of us, Gabriel.”

He nodded. “Is there anything from here we should bring?”

“For now, let’s visit, and, if we need something, we can fetch it. It’s not that far,” Aidan reasoned. “I just hope we aren’t too late for that little girl.”

CHAPTER 38

WE RACED TOWARD MRS. EGAN’S rented rooms, my mind filled with the rudimentary medicine I had learned during my mama’s illness. “Should we call for a physician?” I asked Aidan, trying to keep up with their long strides, the storefronts a blur from the rapid pace of our walking.

“Why don’t we see how sick the baby is before deciding,” Aidan said as we ascended the rickety stairs.

The smell of illness assaulted my senses the minute I opened the door to the living area. Toys lay sprawled over the floor, dishes were piled in the sink, and the dining room table was covered with cleaned but unsorted laundry.

“Whew,” I gasped, blanching and trying not to gag at the stench. I glared at Gabriel who seemed unaffected. “Mrs. Egan, we’re here,” I called out as I watched Gabriel and Aidan stand by the door, waiting for her to appear. “Mrs. Egan?” I moved toward the sounds of quiet sobbing coming from the bedroom and rushed into the room.

I nearly wretched from the smell upon opening the door, and it took a few moments for my eyes to fully adjust to the dark room. When they finally did, I saw Mrs. Egan huddled in the corner of the room with her baby in her lap. I rushed toward her, but she held up her hand.

“Don’t come too close,” she whimpered. “Don’t become ill yourself.” She continued to sob, clasping her baby to her breast, rocking forward and back. “I can’t lose her too,” she whispered, kissing the baby’s forehead.

“Does she live?” I asked.

“Barely.”

I turned toward Aidan. “Get a doctor, please, Aidan.” He nodded, appearing relieved to leave the sickroom.

I turned toward Gabriel, “Boil water, find clean cloths. Open the windows.” I was telling him this but also walking around, doing much of the same. I went to the lone window in the front living area, thrusting it open. Little air entered, but I realized if I left it and the door open, I could sense a bit of a draft.

“No, no, no,” cried Mrs. Egan. “The air is bad for her!”

“Mrs. Egan,” I said from the doorway, “she needs fresh air. This air is stale and putrid. It needs to be freshened. We had to air my mother’s room when she was ill. Trust me.” After a moment I asked, “Mrs. Egan, where is Nicholas?”

“I sent him to play with the other children. He’ll come home soon,” Mrs. Egan sobbed, keening in the corner.

I moved into the living area, to find Gabriel pacing the small space. “Can you find Nicholas, make sure he goes somewhere safe?” I asked. “He can’t come here.”

Gabriel nodded. “Playing with children? I have an idea where he is. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He gripped my arm once before leaving in a rush, and I found myself alone, with a distraught woman and a deathly ill baby.

I returned my thoughts with reluctance to my mother’s sickroom. I tried to remember everything that we had done for her. I recalled one eccentric doctor with flaming red hair reprimanding us to frequently wash our hands. Other than that, all I could remember were numerous doctors, useless tonics and advice to “hope for the best.” I didn’t want to have to resort to the last yet, and I had no tonic to give. I hoped there would be a competent doctor in town.

Gabriel returned twenty minutes later. “Amelia,” Gabriel said as he entered her room and crouched in front of her. “I have Nicholas staying with a friend of mine. He’ll be fine.” He caressed her arm as she rocked Anne. “Amelia?”

“Gabriel, you shouldn’t be in here. You could become ill,” she whispered.

He squeezed her arm, again rising to join me in the main living area.

“Where do you have him?” I asked, as I moved to stand near the stove, waiting for a pot of water to boil. “I thought Colin might be able to care for him at night, but, during the day, his job at the smithy would pose a problem.”

“I brought him to Seb,” Gabriel said.

“Seb?” I asked.

“Yeah, Sebastian Carlin. He’s the foreman at the local mill. He has the freedom to take on the little tyke and keep him entertained.”

“Will he be safe?” I asked.

“He’ll be fine. Safer there than here,” Gabriel said, a grim light in his eyes.

I began to pace again while Gabriel sat in one of the small chairs, drumming his fingers in a nervous tattoo on the tabletop. After nearly an hour, Aidan returned with the doctor. He seemed young to me, but I reminded myself that youth did not preclude competence.

I watched from the doorway as he coaxed Mrs. Egan to allow him to examine baby Anne. He placed her on the bed and proceeded.

“She seems so tiny to me,” I whispered to Gabriel.

“Well, her mum and da aren’t all that big,” Gabriel said with a half smile.

The doctor murmured a few words to Mrs. Egan and then came out to speak with us. “It’s a severe case of dysentery, just as suspected,” he stated. “There’s not much I can do, I’m afraid. All that can be done is to provide as much fluid for the baby as possible, and hope that she’ll maintain a modicum of strength to be able to suck. If she can’t, I’m afraid she won’t…”

I reached out to hold onto Gabriel’s arm, feeling his mounting tension.

“There must be something that can be done for her, Doctor,” Gabriel pleaded.

“There is no medicine. She just needs time,” the doctor replied. “But, if she can’t obtain enough fluids, well...”

“What do you suggest, Doctor, to help us ensure she obtains fluids?” I asked.

“If you can afford it,” he said with a quick glance around the impoverished rooms, “I would recommend bringing her to the hospital so that she can be cared for by the nurses. They may attempt a newer treatment for her.”

Gabriel moved to Amelia, sitting cross-legged in front of her. “Amelia, did you hear what the doctor recommends? He wants us to bring baby Anne to the hospital. So that they can help her there.”

“No, no hospital,” Amelia said. “I want her here at home, with me.”

“Amelia, don’t worry about money—”

“No, Gabriel,” she screeched. “I will not have her poked and prodded, and then taken from me when I’m not with her. No.”

Gabriel glanced toward me with a shake of his head, then rose and walked toward us in the living area.

I turned toward the doctor. “What can you suggest that we do here, Doctor?”

“Damn stubborn woman. The nuns would take excellent care of her. Better than you will be able to,” he hissed. “At this stage, I’d pray for the best.”

“No,” I snapped, shocking him. “Tell me something useful. Tell me something that might help us keep that baby alive,” I growled, waving my hand toward Amelia and baby Anne in the other room.

“Find some way to get fluids into her,” he sighed. “Drops from the end of a spoon, a wet cloth, a dropper if you can afford to buy one. Anything to keep her hydrated.” He watched me intently. “And if you can, talk sense into that woman and get the baby to the hospital.”

“I’ve heard people say that, when you have dysentery, it’s better to dry out, so that then it resolves sooner,” Aidan argued in his quiet way.

“Well, those are the lucky ones. Most who would argue that, they either never had dysentery or are dead,” the doctor responded.

Aidan grunted his agreement.

“If she is still here, I’ll come back tomorrow to check on the baby,” the doctor promised as he left.

“Aidan, can you go to the Merc, buy cheap cloth we can use as diapers and cleaning cloths? Cloth that we won’t mind throwing away, but that isn’t too rough for a baby?” I asked. Aidan nodded his agreement and was gone. Gabriel watched me.

“What?” I asked.

“Why do you always send him on errands first?” he asked.

“Would you like to go on them?”

“Hell, yes. The last place I want to be is in a sickroom.”

“Do you think I relish being here?” I asked. I looked up from the stove, tilting my head to one side, studying him.

“No, but it’s more of a normal, common thing for women. To be in the sickroom. More normal than for men,” Gabriel said.

“That’s a weak reason, Gabriel,” I retorted. I turned away for a moment, raising my arms in frustration. “Argh!”

“Clarissa?” Gabriel asked.

“Why is it that men always think women are better suited to something simply because it’s something they don’t want to do? Why can’t you just say, ‘I don’t like doing this. Will you do it for me?’ Why is it always couched as ‘women do it better?’” I demanded. “I
hate
the sickroom. I loathe it. But I’ll be here because I know this is where I need to be. For that baby and that mother. I’ll be here. And so should you.”

I turned away, entering the room with a ratty basket in which to put the dirty diapers and linens. I planned on burning them, if possible. If that proved impossible, then boiling them in vats of hot water ten times. I saw a window in the far corner of the room—on the opposite side from where Mrs. Egan was seated—and hastened to open it.

“The doctor recommended lots of fresh air for a return to health,” I called out, failing to mention that the doctor who recommended that had lived in Boston and had advised it years ago. “Let’s see if we can’t get a little more air in here.” I managed to pry open the window, only to see that it opened onto the back of another brick wall. However, a small draft of air entered, for which I was thankful. I moved hastily around the room, picking up dirty cloths, stowing them in the basket. I decided to leave the basket for the moment until I knew what I was going to do with its contents. It felt like progress to have tidied the room.