Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four (12 page)

“Don’t let your hurt keep you from welcoming him now.” He watched Clarissa intently. “I mean it, Rissa. Please.”

She nodded her agreement before spinning to face Gabriel, calling out to her.

“Are you all right, Rissa? I thought I heard a shriek,” Gabriel asked as he poked his head out the back door.

She frowned as she looked at him. He appeared more gaunt as the days passed, with such deep shadows under his eyes they seemed tattooed in place. “Patrick’s in town.” She smiled then, her hope that he’d join them and share in their joy dimming as he nodded and backed away inside without a further word.

“Rissa, he did come to see if you were all right.”

“I doubt he would have done anything if I weren’t,” she snapped and then grimaced at her words. She clamped her jaws together tightly, to prevent crying or venting further caustic comments.

“You don’t mean that.” Colin gripped her hands, now clasped so tightly into fists that they were white.

“I don’t know what I believe. Sometimes I wonder if his solicitude is all a show for those present.” She blinked away tears. “Because it’s never gifted to me when we’re alone.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “I refuse to allow this to ruin your wonderful news.”

“I’m off to work. Let’s plan on dinner at my house tonight. Patrick has to leave tomorrow, and I want us all to be together again before he does.”

“Col, you know your place is too small for all of us,” she protested as he moved toward the gate.

“It may be small, but we’ll have a wonderful time together!” he said, blowing her a kiss and departing.

* * *

A
fter ensuring
that Araminta could watch the children, Clarissa walked the few short blocks to Colin’s house. Small trees were planted in front of every home, and a sidewalk ensured the pedestrians a safe path. Soon the trees would grow, providing shade and a sense of permanence to this new neighborhood.

She climbed the few steps to Colin’s porch and knocked on his front door. When there was no answer, she let herself in. “Patrick!”

She heard a rustling in the kitchen and moved through the living and dining rooms to get there. She paused as she saw Patrick crawling into a cabinet and heard him muttering to himself. “What are you looking for?” she asked.

He jumped and looked over his shoulder. “The lid to that pan.” He pointed to the one on the stove.

“It doesn’t have one.” She laughed as he rose and turned to face her. She approached him, her steps cautious, although she couldn’t prevent him from seeing her wide smile or the joy in her eyes at seeing him again. She reached up and brushed the hair off his forehead before running her hand down his arm. “I’m so glad you’ve come to us.”

He watched her intently a moment before pulling her close into a hard hug. They swayed side to side, and she felt him shudder.

“Dammit,” Patrick muttered when he smelled the burning oatmeal, turning to the pot on the stove and pulling it off the heat. He sighed with frustration as he stared at his scorched, mushy oatmeal.

Clarissa laughed again and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go for a walk. We’ll pass a baker’s, and you can buy a treat.”

They locked up Colin’s house and headed toward a favorite neighborhood bakery and café, The Last Drop. Patrick pulled open the door and followed her inside. After introducing him to the serving girl, Patrick opted for a hot breakfast, and Clarissa had coffee while he ate, choosing a seat next to the windows.

“What would you like to do today?” she asked, watching her neighbors and friends bustle by while she became reacquainted with her brother.

“I want to go someplace where I can forget that man is industrious. Where I can sit and listen to nature and smell something fresh.”

She tried not to visibly grimace at his simple request. “I know just the place, and the streetcar will be passing soon.” They hurried to Higgins, hopped on the electric streetcar that eventually took them down Broadway and rode it until the end of the line.

She looped her arm around his as they walked through a residential area toward a small creek. They bypassed the bear cage and entered the verdant area of Greenough Park. Soon the sounds of the modern world faded away as they walked beside the creek. Birds chirped and soared overhead, swooping to catch insects and to ride the breeze. Dappled light through the tree branches gave the creek an otherworldly feeling.

Clarissa approached a few boulders shaped like seats and settled on one. Patrick sat next to her, and she sensed him relax, moment by moment.

His breathing deepened, and he sighed with contentment. “Butte has the Columbia Gardens. I go there as often as I can. But it doesn’t compare to this.” He opened his eyes and met hers.

Rather than the peace she had hoped to see imbuing them, she saw torment and anguish. “What happened to you, Patrick? Why did you leave us?” She bit her lip to forestall any more questions.

Patrick laughed halfheartedly. “You just broke your promise to Col, didn’t you?” At her guilty nod, he laughed more fully before looking as though he were choking back a sob. “You don’t know what it means to find you again. To be welcomed by you.”

She grasped his hand. “Why would you ever think we wouldn’t welcome you?”

“Let’s just say that I know what I’ve done, and … I shouldn’t expect anything but your animosity.”

“Now you’re talking in riddles.” She studied him a moment and knew he would say nothing further to her. “I understand if you won’t talk with me. But talk to Col. Please. You shouldn’t live with this guilt. There’s no reason for it.”

“Is there ever a moment when you didn’t hate Mrs. Smythe?”

She sat back, considering for a few moments the sudden change in conversation and his desire to talk about their despised stepmother. “No. I always resented her. I hated how she treated me. How she changed our family. Worse, how she gave Melly away.”

“Melly?”

“Her daughter, Melinda.” Clarissa picked up a handful of multicolored pebbles and tossed them one by one into the creek. “She gave her to an orphanage rather than raise her. Thought the inconvenience and expense was more than she should have to bear.”

Patrick nodded. “She and Da had no other children?”

“No, I doubted she …” Clarissa blushed and shook her head. “No.” She took a deep breath, allowing the gurgle of the creek to soothe her. “I try not to think much about her and all she did. I haven’t seen her in over ten years.”

Patrick watched inquisitively. “What did she do to you?”

She shrugged her shoulders and then closed her eyes to ban the barrage of memories. “She left me alone with Cameron, who took advantage of the situation in an attempt to force me to marry him.” She gasped as Patrick’s large, strong hand gripped her knee.

“I’ll kill him if …”

“He did, Patrick.” She cleared her throat. “It’s why I had to flee Boston. Why Colin came with me. I had to escape.”

They shared a tortured glance for a few moments—anger, regret, anguish, all flashing across his face as he saw her stoic resignation to what had befallen her. “I’m sorry I failed you. That I wasn’t there to protect you from her.”

Clarissa’s eyes filled, but she refused to allow the tears to fall.

“Does Gabriel know?”

She paled at the mention of Gabriel. “Yes, from the beginning he knew what happened to me. And still wanted me. Well, until now.” She blinked away more tears. “We’re having a few problems in our marriage.”

Patrick scooted over on his boulder so that she could lean against him. “I’m sorry, Rissa. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you all this time.”

She swatted him on his shoulder and then hit him again. “You should be,” she whispered. She wanted to rail at him; instead she felt an overwhelming sense of loss. “I hated you.” She felt him stiffen, although he continued to hold her. “I hated you for leaving. For not sending word as to your whereabouts. For abandoning me.” She shuddered. “It seemed everyone always left, and I had to remain and continue on, as though everything was fine.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and cried, the tears finally pouring from her. “I missed you so much.” She leaned away and swiped at her tears. “From the day you left until the day I saw you in Butte, I never said your name. At first because Da was so angry that he forbade it, and I was so devastated and hurt that I agreed.”

“And then?” He cleared his throat, perhaps thickened with the strong emotions he was dealing with now.

“And then it was habit. I had an irrational fear, if I said your name, if I spoke of you, it would mean you were truly gone, like all the others I spoke of and mourned.” She pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose. “But I never forgot you. I never stopped praying I’d see you again.”

“Will you be able to forgive me for leaving?”

She leaned into his side, snuggling into his embrace. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you, Col and me to be reunited. Now we are, with Melly too. So, yes, I’ll be able to forgive you.” She hit him on the arm once more. “Just don’t disappear again.”

“I promise,” he said.

They sat there, enjoying the peaceful location until her backside had grown numb. She sensed that the near solitude, listening to the creek’s susurrus melody, breathing in the clear scent of the forest, soothed Patrick as he calmed minute by minute. Reluctantly she stirred, rousing him from a reverie as they returned to prepare for the evening’s meal and Patrick’s reentry into his extended family.

P
atrick sat
on Colin’s porch later that afternoon, watching as a woman with a limp approached carrying two baskets filled to the brim. He leapt up and grasped the handle of one of them before opening the door for her. “You’re Minta, I assume?”

Her eyes flashed a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. “Araminta, yes. I work for both Savannah and Clarissa.” She smiled. “And Colin and Aidan at times.”

“I imagine they keep you busy.” He entered the kitchen, setting the basket filled with fresh vegetables on the countertop.

“I’d rather be busy than feel a burden.” She nodded her thanks and then turned to the doorway, indicating she preferred to work alone.

He smiled and returned to the front porch. He continued the calming movement of rocking in one of the chairs by the door.

A short while later Clarissa arrived with her children. After a few stilted moments where Geraldine and Myrtle watched Patrick with wide eyes, he charmed Billy with a magic trick. The boy jumped up and down with enthusiasm, begging Patrick to teach him how to pull coins from his ears. While Patrick sat with his nephew on his lap, he glanced up to see Savannah walking up the porch stairs. He stood, set Billy on the rocker and moved toward Savannah.

“Hi, Sav.” He crammed his hands in his pants pocket to still their nervous tapping on his legs.

“Patrick!” Savannah exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms for a hug. She pulled back and gave him a small tap on his shoulder. “It’s about time you came for a visit. Rissa’d about given up hope of ever seeing you again.”

“Give him space to breathe, Sav,” said a tall man with ebony hair and piercing green eyes behind her. He held a girl’s hand.

“You must be a McLeod,” Patrick said, holding out a hand.

“Yes, I’m Jeremy. And this is our daughter, Melinda.” He gripped Patrick’s hand while his free hand ran over Melinda’s head.

“Melinda?” Patrick asked in confusion. “I thought she was in an orphanage?”

“Oh, she was. For a few weeks back in 1903. We refused to allow her to be raised there. We adopted her, formally, five years ago.”

“I see,” Patrick said, his gaze raking over Melinda, from her yellow curls, blue eyes, pale skin to her lanky frame and polished black shoes. He cleared his throat. “I’m your brother. Patrick.”

She moved forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, startling him. He patted her on her shoulders a few times before she backed away. “I’m so excited to have another brother! Can you tell good stories like Colin? Do you like to—”

“Melly, don’t overwhelm your brother the first moment you meet him,” Savannah said, her eyes alit with droll humor. “Come along. I’m sure there’s plenty to do in the kitchen, and we want to help Minta and Rissa.”

“Don’t tell me Rissa’s in the kitchen?” Patrick burst out.

All of them, including Billy on the rocker, laughed.

“Yes, she is,” Savannah said. “You’d be surprised, Patrick. After twelve years of marriage, she’s become a proficient cook. Well, except for pies.” Savannah winked at Billy.

Colin arrived with a wagon, Ronan and an elderly man beside him. “Patrick and Jer, get over here and help,” Colin bellowed as he jumped down.

Colin extracted Ronan’s wheelchair from the back, put it on the porch, and Patrick and Jeremy carried Ronan the short distance and up the few stairs. Then they turned toward the wagon. “That’s Mr. A.J. Pickens. He’s one of Clarissa’s oldest friends here. He’s a bit ornery, but you’ll come to love him like we do.”

They helped him down, and Patrick gasped as Mr. A.J.’s cane found his shin.

“That’s for leavin’ my Missy to think ye were dead an’ buried all these years. Ye darn fool.” He shook his head in consternation and
thunk
ed his way up the walk, heaving himself up the stairs.

“See? He likes you already,” Colin said with a laugh. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Patrick entered Colin’s house to find the children playing, the adults laughing and telling stories. He stood in the entranceway of the living room, marveling at such simple, essential human interactions.

“Just because you’ve been gone for years doesn’t mean you don’t belong in there, arguing like the rest of them.” A man’s deep voice rumbled behind him.

Patrick jolted and met a distantly familiar, amused gaze. “Gabriel McLeod.”

“It’s good to see you again, Patrick.”

Gabriel pushed Patrick inside, and soon he found himself in the midst of all the conversations. He found, when he was with Ronan and Mr. A.J., Patrick’s input wasn’t much required, and he could simply enjoy their banter and ridiculous sense of humor. He watched as the women set the table, moving from the kitchen to the dining room, all while keeping an eye on the children. He watched Jeremy tease Savannah and noticed Gabriel settle into the living room, away from Clarissa.

“I know yer her big brother,” Mr. A.J. said in his attempt at a whisper after he watched Patrick’s gaze dart around the room. “But don’t
interferee
.” He evidently enjoyed drawing out the
EE
sound of the word.

“
Interfere
?”

“He probably means both
interfere
and
referee
,” Ronan muttered. “He has a way of making up words that are ridiculous but wholly appropriate.”

“Ah, there she is,” Mr. A.J. said in his wispy way. “Pester, ’bout time ye showed up.”

Ronan leaned in and whispered to Patrick. “Hester Loken is the new librarian here. She’s been in Missoula over six months, but we still consider her new. She and Rissa had some mighty battles, but they’ve made their peace. For some reason Mr. A.J. likes her and has insisted she be adopted into our little group.”

“And just in time,” Savannah said as she moved toward Hester and gave her a hug. “Let’s wash up and settle for dinner.”

Hester brushed at her red hair, her fair skin sprinkled with freckles. Pale blue eyes watched the chaotic scene with trepidation, the fine lines around her eyes and mouth indicative of either frequent frowning or smiling. After a moment’s hesitation, she followed Savannah into the kitchen, her navy skirt and starched cream-colored shirt oddly formal in the informal family gathering.

Soon Savannah herded the children to the kitchen to wash their hands, and they sat, adults and children, crammed around Colin’s dining room table. Colin speared Clarissa with a glare before she could mutter an “I told you so” about the tight quarters. Savannah and Melinda giggled. Patrick stole surreptitious glances at Melinda, which made her squirm in her seat next to Savannah.

“How are things in Butte, Patrick?” Gabriel asked. He laid his arm along the back of Clarissa’s chair, and she straightened to avoid any contact with him.

Patrick watched the interaction with confusion before answering, “Difficult. The Company, Amalgamated Copper, does not want anything to do with Socialists or the IWW. The Company believes this new card system they’ve created will help weed out miners they perceive as troublemakers.” He shook his head as he considered the Industrial Workers of the World, their link to Socialist and anarchist beliefs, and their goal of altering capitalism to favor the worker with wage democracy.

“But you’re not convinced,” Jeremy said with an amused glance toward Gabriel and Ronan.

“I think it’s not nearly as simple as they make it out to be.”

“It never is, young man,” Mr. Pickens wheezed. “’Specially when those like the IWW are involved.”

“Do you remember when they came to Missoula?” Savannah asked with a shake of her head.

Patrick furrowed his brow inquisitively.

Savannah opened her mouth, as though she were to speak, and then settled into her chair and nodded to Mr. A.J.

“When those Wobblies steamed into town, they filled the wind with more hot air ’n woulda been needed to fire one o’ Colin’s bellows for a day. Never seen the likes of our good mayor so puffed up! An’ all they was doin’ was standin’ on a street corner, proclaimin’ their right to be there.”

Mr. A.J. thumped his hand on the table, rattling the silverware and china, as there wasn’t enough room to thump the floor with his cane. “Readin’ such things as the Constitution!” He shook his head and then laughed with glee. “Made those stuffed shirts seem right ridiculous when the basic laws o’ the land were spouted back to ’em.”

“What happened to them?” Hester asked.

“They were arrested one by one. Placed in a jail cell, under a livery, with horse dung as their companion.” Mr. A.J. shook his head. “But did that stop ’em? No. They filled those boxcars an’ poured into town like a herd o’ buffalo. Filled the jail too, until a proper criminal had nowhere to sleep.”

Patrick laughed and shook his head. “Those men must have been good orators.” He gasped as Clarissa kicked him in the shin. “What?”

“That’s just like my Missy. Always defendin’ her womenfolk. The best orator was a woman. A Miss Flynn. Her voice carried better’n any man’s and was more convincin’ too. By the time she finished speakin’, she made ye ashamed for ever bein’ proud of havin’ personal success. Ah, a fine-lookin’ lady. Reminded me of my Missy.” He paused a moment as he squinted and looked down the table. “And of my Pester.”

“Now, Mr. A.J.,” Clarissa said, holding up her hands in protest. “I’ve never been a Wobbly, and I don’t plan to join that party.”

Hester nodded her agreement.

“Not sayin’ ye were, Missy. Jus’ sayin’ there was somethin’ ’bout her fire that reminded me of ye.” He looked at Clarissa with pride.

“I think that’s enough storytelling, Mr. Pickens,” Hester said, a flush rising up her neck. “The IWW will never be considered appropriate suppertime conversation.”

“Now don’t become all squeamish, Pester,” Mr. A.J. said.

Miss Loken blushed when hearing his nickname for her.

“They’ll wreak havoc, even if only for the short term, if they can,” Gabriel said.

“It’s not that I don’t agree with some of what they say. It’s their methods,” Jeremy said.

“I worry what it will all mean for the miners. The threat of IWW activity is making the bosses in Butte uneasy.” Patrick played with his unused silverware.

“As they should,” Clarissa said with a wry smile. “Heaven forbid the bosses lose a penny. Or have to share any more with the workers who bring forth the riches for them.”

“See, there’s my Missy.” Mr. A.J. beamed his toothless grin at her.

“Enough serious talk,” Savannah said, once the room fell silent for a few moments. “Let’s clear the table and have coffee and dessert.”

“I’m looking forward to Araminta’s pies!” Colin said with a laugh. He winked at Minta, and she rolled her eyes at him.

The women rose, preparing for their after-dinner gossip session in the kitchen, ushering the men and children from the dining room.

* * *

P
atrick sat
in the living room while Savannah, Araminta, Clarissa and Melinda cleaned up the dining room table. The women had shooed away Hester, saying they wouldn’t allow her to help as she was a guest. Hester sat in a chair with her hands clenched, hastily hidden in her skirts, as she listened to the women laugh and talk in the kitchen. Gabriel and Jeremy were outside on the front porch while Colin chatted with Ronan and Mr. Pickens at the dining room table.

“They don’t intentionally exclude you,” Patrick said, settling more comfortably on the sofa.

Hester sat upright and forced a calm expression to her face. “Whether it’s intentional or not, it’s evident I’m little more than a guest.”

“I’d think it would be a privilege to be a guest here.” Patrick watched a flush climb her neck. “Unless you have such a plentitude of friends that their consideration for you and their desire to see you feel honored holds little meaning.”

“Of course I’m honored … privileged to be here. These are generous, welcoming people, and I hope to call them friends.”

“Is it me then, Miss Loken, that you find unsettling? For I can leave you in peace if you prefer.”

“No, of course not.” She slumped in her chair, her misery evident.

“What has you upset? Truly?”

She met his intense gaze and shook her head. “Nothing more than mere foolishness. It will pass.”

“Loken is Scandinavian, is it not?”

“Norwegian.” She smiled as Araminta brought her a cup of tea.

He studied her for a moment. “I have a friend in Butte who’s Finnish. But he’s tall and blonde, not a petite redhead.” He watched as her blush intensified. “I beg your pardon. I’m unaccustomed to polite company. Where did you come from when you decided to move to Missoula?”

“I applied to numerous positions and Missoula’s was the best offer,” she said, setting her teacup down as it rattled in her hands. At his nod for her to continue, she cleared her throat. “I traveled here from Minneapolis.”

“So you—”

“Patrick, quit acting like an inquisitor,” Clarissa chastised as she and the other women approached. “Minta told me in the kitchen how you wouldn’t stop pestering Hester with your questions.” She smiled as Hester gave her a grateful glance.

Clarissa sat next to him on the sofa and dragged their sister Melinda to sit between her and Patrick. He stiffened as Melinda bumped into him and saw Savannah frown at his reaction. He tried to smile and relax again. Luckily, Melinda curled into Clarissa and ignored him. Jeremy and Gabriel joined them, with Jeremy standing behind a seated Savannah, gently stroking a hand over her shoulders. Gabriel stood to one side of the room, leaning against the window frame.