Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3 (8 page)

“Clarissa?” Gabriel asked, as he poked his head out the front door. “What’s the matter? I would have thought you’d be delighted at the news for Richard and Florence. And there’s no reason to be upset with Nicholas.”

“Of course I am delighted.” I swiped at my cheeks, rubbing away an errant tear. “Happy for them. And I’m not mad at Nicholas.”

“It’s not like you to be jealous of others’ good fortune. We’ll have similar news soon.”

He crouched down in front of me and caressed my cheek. I closed my eyes. I neither leaned into nor away from his touch. After a moment he dropped his hand.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you what you desire, darling.”

“I’m happy. Of course I am,” I said around a sniffle.

“This is a fine way to show it.” He grasped my hands as he met my gaze. “What’s wrong? I can’t seem to do anything right recently.”

“It’s nothing you’ve done, Gabriel.” I hitched in a stuttering breath as I battled tears.

“No? Maybe it’s something I’ve failed to do.” He rose, walking a pace away before turning to look down at me, sitting crumpled on the bench. “Can’t you at least act like you’re happy to have married me on our anniversary?”

I paled, placing one of my hands to my chest at the pleading in his voice. When I stared at him wordlessly, he strode into the house, the screen door slamming shut behind him.

After another moment outside, I rose to follow him. As I opened the door, I heard the conversation continuing without me. “She’ll come around soon, Gabriel. Don’t worry.”

Amelia’s soothing voice.

“It’s an adjustment from Boston. Never fear she’d rather be there than here.”

Colin’s deep voice, unable to hide his concern.

“You know what I think, so no need going over it again,” Sebastian said.

“Whatever you’ve done, figure it out, man. You don’t want your woman angry with you for much longer,” Ronan said.

I waited for Gabriel to speak. After a long silence, he said, “I wonder if I should have listened to Richard’s advice in the beginning.”

I stifled a gasp as my mind raced to the moment Richard had confronted Gabriel about his interest in me at his workshop in Boston.
It will only lead to pain. For pity’s sake … find another one, more suitable, more of our class.

“Colin, will you see Clarissa home?” Gabriel ran a hand through his ebony hair. “I need …”

“Gabriel, you haven’t eaten any of your anniversary cake,” Amelia said.

“Cake won’t make this better, Amelia,” Gabriel said before he marched toward the kitchen and exited the rear door.

I looked out the side window to see his long, loping gait striding down the boardwalk toward the center of town.

“That was poorly done, Rissa,” Colin said. He had risen and seen me standing in the living room.

“I know, Col,” I said. I fell into an overstuffed armchair, curling my legs up under me, holding onto my knees as I rocked to and fro. My mind raced at the disastrous evening. “I’ll apologize to Nicholas.”

Colin glanced over his shoulder and saw that Amelia, carrying Nicholas, moved with Sebastian and Ronan into the kitchen. “It’s not just Nicholas, Rissa. Can’t you tell me what’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”

“It’s nothing, Col.”

“Don’t treat me like a fool. It’s obviously something. Do you regret marrying Gabe?”

“That’s not the question, Colin. It never will be.” I let out another stuttering sigh as I leaned my head against my knees, a terrible weariness filling me.

“Then what it is? Are you ill? Is that why Amelia saw you visiting the doctor recently?”

“Is that all you do? Gossip about me?”

“It’s what people do who care about each other. Especially when one of them refuses to share anything and acts like a wounded badger.”

Colin glared at me, daring me to contradict him.

“I’m of sound health, Colin. Nothing to fear.” I closed my eyes in resignation.

“Then why are you acting like this?” Colin asked again as he gripped my hand. “I’ve never seen you with such little spirit. Not even last spring in Boston. Now you act as though all the fight has left you. That’s not who you are, Rissa.”

“You’d never understand, Col. And I fear Gabriel never will either.”

“Whatever it is, you must tell him.”

“No, Colin. The last thing I should do is tell Gabriel. Because once I do, he will despise me.”

***

AMELIA MOVED FROM THE KITCHEN to the dining room. She held a teal-blue cast-iron coffeepot in her left hand while four mugs swung from the fingers of her right hand.

“Here, let me help you, Mrs. Egan.” Sebastian reached for the coffeepot.

“No, take the mugs. I have the towel to protect my hand.” She nodded to the table, smiling her thanks as he set down the mugs with loud clunks. She filled them before returning to the kitchen for sugar and milk, leaving the coffeepot warming on the stove.

She joined Colin, Ronan and Sebastian as she stared at the carved anniversary cake. “Is there anything we can do?” She blew on her mug of steaming coffee a few times before taking a tentative sip.

“I doubt it. Clarissa won’t admit to what’s wrong, and that’s unlike her,” Colin said, as he added milk to his coffee.

“Could be she’s unsatisfied with her life with Gabe,” Sebastian said. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, a distant look in his eyes.

“Or she’s still running from her past. Can’t be easy to have that man here, taunting her every time she sees him,” Ronan said. “She’s strong, but that kind of thing can wear a person down.”

“How could she be unhappy with her life with Gabriel? They have a good home. She works with Mr. Pickens. She could want for no better man,” Amelia said.

Sebastian met her earnest gaze with marked intensity, causing her to lower her eyes.

“This ain’t Boston. I imagine she misses her life there,” Sebastian said.

“I don’t know why she would,” Colin said. “The last few months weren’t pleasant for her. She wasn’t allowed to teach, even though she wasn’t married. She couldn’t visit her friends or participate in her suffragist activities. All that was attractive about Boston was taken away from her.”

“Would she want that good-for-nothing?” Sebastian asked, as Ronan scoffed at the idea.

Colin started as though Sebastian had struck him. “I can guarantee, never.”

“Maybe now that she sees what life is like with Gabe, she realizes she should have opted for the easier life.” Sebastian met Colin’s steely glare.

“If Cameron were her only option, she would never choose him.” Colin sighed. “She suffered too much at his hands.”

“And appears to continue to suffer from it. Only now she’s making everyone, especially Gabe, miserable,” Ronan said, as he took a sip of coffee.

Sebastian squinted at his friend’s words, before letting out a long sigh. “Well, whatever it is, she needs to tell Gabe. There’s nothing worse than not knowing how to make your woman happy and waiting for the day she leaves for good.”

“Mr. Carlin?” Amelia asked Sebastian, sensing he spoke from experience.

“I’m afraid I’ve overstayed my welcome, and I need to return the wagon to the mill. I thank you, Mrs. Egan, for a delicious dinner and fine company. Colin.”

Ronan nodded his thanks, as he must leave now with Sebastian, maneuvering his wheelchair to the kitchen and out the side door. Colin had also risen, and he and Sebastian carried Ronan in the wheelchair down the porch steps. They hoisted Ronan into the front seat of the wagon, where he had a special rope he tied around his waist to prevent sliding out of the seat. Sebastian moved toward the wagon to tie the wheelchair securely, before climbing in beside Ronan.

Colin reentered Aidan’s house and sat again next to Amelia. He took a small sip of coffee, the quiet of the night descending as they sat in silent contemplation.

After a few moments, Amelia turned to Colin. “Would you like some cake?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Colin said with a broad smile. “Sweets are one of my weaknesses.”

“They were one of Liam’s too,” she said with a wistful smile.

“You miss him still.”

“Of course. I’ll always miss him.” She rose, moving toward the cake to carve two generous portions. “I still turn to speak with him or to meet his amused smile when Nicholas says or does something humorous. And then I remember he’s not here. He’ll never be here again.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Egan. I didn’t mean to …”

“I’d rather speak of him. It’s as though a code of silence was erected around his name after his death, and everyone is afraid to breach it. I know I helped erect it, but now I need to speak of him again. He’d want his children to hear me talk about him.
I
want his children to know who he was. A good, kind man who would have loved them. Who did love them.”

“And their mother,” Colin murmured.

“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Sullivan.”

“We’re family, of sorts. You should call me Colin.”

She smiled and nodded. “And you must call me Amelia.”

Colin sighed in contentment as he took a bite of her chocolate cake. “I hope Rissa and Gabe have the good sense to eat this.”

“I’m afraid that’s the one thing they’ve been lacking for a few months, Colin.”

Colin grunted his agreement as he devoured his cake in earnest.

CHAPTER 8

HAVING REFUSED COLIN’S OFFER to escort me home, I returned to the workshop and apartment Gabriel and I shared on Main Street in Missoula. I paused to marvel at the sunset. To the west, the mountains shone crimson, while the wisps of clouds in the sky changed from fuchsia to a carnation pink, before night finally descended and the beautiful display ended. I sighed, turning to face the workshop, knowing that I’d see another beautiful sunset again, if not tomorrow, soon.

I unlocked the workshop, re-locked the door and trudged up the stairs to the loft-like living area. I carried the slab of anniversary cake Amelia had sent home with me for us to share, any of Amelia’s optimism that our disagreement could be resolved by consuming her confection fading with each step.

As I neared the top of the steps along one sidewall, long shadows entered our apartment through the three large windows overlooking the street. The small kitchen area was near the stairs along the back wall. A small dining room table sat next to one of the windows, covered in a colorful, poppy-covered cloth. The living area consisted of two gentleman’s chairs, a rocking chair and two small side tables covered in lace doilies tatted by Amelia. I enjoyed the small touch of home.

My desk sat at the edge of the living area, toward our bedroom area and in front of the second window. In truth, Gabriel and I shared the desk, as he often worked there, going over his books and orders during the evenings. Our bed was in plain view across the room.

I entered the kitchen area near the top of the stairs and set the plate on the dining room table. Gabriel stood with his back to the far window, in our bedroom area. He had pushed the privacy screen aside, allowing him to see the entire room.

“So, you came home.”

I shuddered at his chill tone. “Of course. Amelia sent cake.” I unpinned my hat, setting it on a small table near the top of the stairs. I avoided looking in the mirror and turned toward him. Gabriel remained across the room, his arms crossed as he leaned against the ledge of the window.

“Who is he?” Gabriel asked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’ll have a lot more to beg than that, Rissa. Who is he?” Gabriel growled, as he pushed away from the window and prowled toward me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t come home anymore after you leave the depository. You wander in, hours later, breathless and disheveled. Acquaintances tell me that they’ve seen you walking in parts of Missoula they’d never seen you in before.” Gabriel’s eyes flashed, and he gripped his hands at his sides, although he refrained from touching me.

I gave a surprised laugh at his conclusion. “Gabriel, there is no one else.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” Gabriel hissed, as he reached up and gripped my arms almost to the point of pain.

I jerked at his sudden movement, and he released my arms but not before I saw the hurt flash in his eyes.

“Gabriel, there is no other man. I … I have a lot to think about. I go on walks.” I blushed. “You know I’m clumsy.” I smiled, hoping the shared memory of how we’d met—me knocking him off a ladder and landing on top of him at my uncle’s store in Boston two years ago—would lighten his mood. I frowned as he continued to glower at me. “When I sit next to the streams, I like to take off my hat, cool down. I nearly fell into the stream a few times.”

“You mean you’d prefer to spend your time alone, rather than talking with me?”

“It’s not like that.” I hated the pleading in my voice, but I couldn’t hide it.

“How is it then, Rissa? You won’t talk with me. You don’t want me to touch you.” He backed up a step. “You prefer to spend all your time away from home.” His eyes flashed pain and disappointment.

“Gabriel, I wish you could understand—”