He peeked around the corner and saw Eleanor, who had stood tall and proud in front of him—once she overcame her momentary shyness—now cowering under her mother’s cruel monologue. “What a horrible woman,” he muttered, as he glared at Mrs. Bouchard.
Looking to the circulation desk, he noted that Clarissa was unoccupied, and he walked toward her. “Hi, Rissa,” he said with a broad smile.
“Jeremy!” she said, as she reached forward and grabbed his hand. She opened the latch and allowed him behind the counter.
He gave her a hug and followed her to the rear area as Hester Bailey, the other librarian, took over watching the front area. “I didn’t realize Hester was back.”
Clarissa sighed as she sat down. “She’s here part-time. Just like I’d prefer to be here part-time.” She smiled as she thought about her friend who helped run the library with her. “Ever since Hester married last spring, she doesn’t want to spend as much time here as before.”
Jeremy nodded. “Makes sense.” He wandered the small room, noting the books they were repairing bindings on. “I didn’t realize you did this sort of work.”
“Only minor repairs,” Clarissa said with a shrug. After a moment, as she watched him wander, she asked in a soft voice, “What bothers you, Jeremy?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Little gets past you, does it?” He turned and looked at her, his smile fading as he saw the concern in her gaze. “What?”
“Are you leaving?” she whispered.
“Leaving?” he asked in a shocked voice. He ran a hand through his hair. “I won’t lie and say I haven’t considered it. But where would I go? Boston? What’s there for me except their gravesites?” He shuddered and closed his eyes, as he took a calming breath. “I don’t want to live there again, and I don’t want to live away from you and Gabe. Or from Colin and Araminta. You are my family. And I need to be near family, Rissa.”
She gave a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” She rose and hugged him. “Gabriel has been terrified you were working your way toward leaving. He knows it’s unfair for Richard to be alone in Boston, but Gabriel doesn’t want you away from us.”
“Richard has Uncle Aidan and Zee,” Jeremy said. After a moment he released Clarissa. In a barely audible voice, he said, “I don’t want you to hate me.”
She grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “How could I ever hate you, Jeremy? You are my brother. I love you.”
He looked deeply into her blue eyes and shook his head, as though in wonder. “I can’t believe you don’t blame me. For Sav. For Melly.”
She shook her head, as her eyes filled with tears. “Never.” She cupped his cheeks. “Never.” Her vehemence eased the tension in his gaze. “Now what would make you ever doubt me?”
He flushed as he half smiled. “Guilt.”
She frowned, as though puzzling out a clue, and then she brightened. “Oh, you’re interested in someone.”
“How do you know that?” he asked, as he backed up and leaned against the wall. “How is it so easy to sum up my fascination?”
She shrugged and then let out a deep breath. “If anything ever happened to Gabe …” Her voice broke, and she let out another breath. “I … The guilt …” She shrugged again.
“Rissa, Gabe is fine. I left him at the workshop.” He waited until she nodded. “But, yes, I’m intrigued by a woman. Which is something I wasn’t sure I’d ever say again.” Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I fear she will not be accepted by the family, so I should forget about her.”
Clarissa furrowed her brows as she stared at him. “I like to believe we are accepting and welcoming, Jeremy. Who could ever meet with our disapproval?”
He looked at her a long moment and then murmured, “Eleanor Bouchard.” He nodded with reluctant triumph as Clarissa gaped at him.
“Mrs. Bouchard’s eldest daughter?” Clarissa stammered. “How? … Why?”
Jeremy closed his eyes. “Never mind. I’ll endeavor never to see her again.” He opened his eyes when Clarissa grasped his hand. “What is it?”
“She was … She was engaged to Cameron. Years ago,” she whispered. “I’ve always hoped he never harmed her.”
Jeremy’s eyes flashed with anger at the mention of Clarissa’s ex-fiancé who had attacked her before she traveled to Missoula in 1901. “I didn’t know, and I have no idea how he treated her. We’ve barely spoken. And there’s no reason to speak with her again.”
Clarissa shook her head. “No, Jeremy. You are interested in her. For some reason, she fascinates you.” Clarissa’s gaze was shadowed with decades-old grief. “I’ve always wondered how much she suffered, not only at the hands of Cameron but also by the neglect of her mother and her aunt.”
Jeremy shuddered. “I can’t imagine a mother like hers. Just today I heard Mrs. Bouchard criticizing Eleanor.” He flushed at using her first name. “Miss Bouchard seemed to wilt under her mother’s verbal disparagement.”
A sly smile spread, and Clarissa looked like a cat who’d just lapped up a bowl of cream. “I have an idea. I’ve heard that Eleanor was a talented teacher in Seattle, before her parents insisted she move home. No such opportunity has been available to her here in Missoula.” She waved around the library. “She is here almost every day. I thought it was to escape her mother’s home, and I’m sure that is part of it. However, I think she misses books the way I did.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he said.
“I think she’d enjoy working here. To have hours away from her mother. To have a purpose to her days again and to be with other women who will support her, not denigrate her.” Her smile turned mischievous. “And you’ll have every reason to see her, if you are to continue to visit the library and to see your family members.”
He raised a hand to his head and ran his fingers through his hair again. “See if she’ll work here with you, Rissa,” he whispered. “I don’t know if I’m ready, but I need a chance to figure it out.”
Chapter 8
Two days later, Eleanor returned to the library. Her favorite time of day to visit the library was during midmorning. A lull of patrons tended to occur, and she enjoyed having the library mostly to herself. Although she knew her mother would want her to avoid all contact with one of the librarians, Clarissa McLeod, Eleanor frequently glanced in her direction as Clarissa interacted with patrons.
Through her mother’s stories and gossip, Eleanor had pieced together that Clarissa had been a schoolteacher before moving to Missoula to reunite with Gabriel McLeod, who she married soon after her arrival in Missoula. That similarity in their backgrounds gave Eleanor a sense of kinship with Clarissa. Then, as Eleanor watched Clarissa laugh with a patron, Eleanor fought envy at the self-confidence and happiness Clarissa exuded.
Eleanor stumbled when Clarissa smiled at her and asked for her to join them at the front desk. Mrs. Bailey stood beside her, and Hester also watched Eleanor with a welcoming expression. “Yes?” Eleanor asked. She patted at her navy skirt and then gripped her hands in front of her. “I’m certain I have no overdue books.”
Clarissa laughed. “No, you don’t. I was wondering if you would speak with me a moment?” She motioned for Eleanor to follow her toward the back of the library into a private room.
After a moment’s hesitation, Eleanor nodded. A pot of tea and two cups had been placed on the table, and Clarissa filled the teapot with boiling water to brew them a fresh pot.
“I hope you don’t mind tea. My family tends to prefer tea over coffee.” Clarissa waved for Eleanor to sit and joined her at the tiny table.
Eleanor attempted to relax, but her hands shook as she accepted the cup of tea from Clarissa. She studied the woman sitting across from her. She knew Clarissa was a few years older than she, but she had a youthful exuberance about her that made her seem years younger. Her chestnut-brown hair had streaks of silver through it, but it only enhanced her beauty. Small lines at her eyes and around her mouth were a
testament to her frequent joy, as Eleanor couldn’t imagine her suffering much sorrow. “I beg your pardon,” she murmured, as she set down her cup so as not to spill anything. “I fail to understand why you’d wish to speak with me.”
Clarissa sobered. “I know who you are, Eleanor Bouchard.” She nodded after she said Eleanor’s name. “And I know who your mother is, Mrs. Bouchard. Although she is no longer a member of the library committee, she continues to believe she has the right to interfere in the running of our library. As does your aunt Vaughan.” Clarissa tilted her head as Eleanor flushed. “It’s been many years since you’ve lived in Missoula.”
“Seventeen,” Eleanor murmured. “I left in 1903.”
“Yes,” Clarissa said, although she refrained from expounding on the reason behind Eleanor’s hasty departure all those years ago. “And now you’ve returned.” Clarissa smiled gently. “I remember when I arrived in Missoula in 1901. I was qualified to teach, but I couldn’t find a teaching position. I imagine it must be as frustrating for you as it was for me.”
Eleanor sat in stunned silence for a moment and then shrugged. “It has been a challenge.” She cleared her throat. “I enjoyed having a purpose.”
Clarissa took a sip of tea. “Do you frequent the library because you are fond of books or because you are merely attempting to carve out time for yourself each day?” She watched as Eleanor flushed at her forthright question.
“Both.”
Clarissa smiled broadly. “I thought it might be. As you know, I am married and have children. I am unable to work at the library as much as I used to. I want to spend time with my children. And, as you are also aware, Hester married last spring to Mr. Bailey, and she would like to spend less time at the library now too. Therefore, we are looking for someone to work here with us.” She looked with satisfaction at the gleam of interest in Eleanor’s gaze. “Would you be willing to work here with us?”
“I …” Eleanor bit her lip. After a long moment, she firmed her shoulders and nodded. “Yes, I would. Very much so.”
“Good.” Clarissa grimaced. “The pay is not equal to what you would earn as a teacher, but there is a small stipend.”
“What hours would you like me to work?” Eleanor asked, unable to hide the eagerness in her voice.
“Hester and I have discussed it, and it would be most helpful if you could work afternoons and close the library in the evenings. We’ll be here some of that time with you but not all the time. I like to be home when the children arrive from school, and the library opens after the school day begins.” She paused. “Would that be acceptable to you?”
“Very,” Eleanor said. “Although I’ve never worked in a library.”
Clarissa laughed. “Don’t worry. Books don’t talk back to you the way children do.” She winked at Eleanor. “Although the patrons are a delight.” She rose, and Eleanor mimicked her action. “Come. Let’s start your orientation now.”
Eleanor followed Clarissa, and she began a formal tour of the library from a librarian’s perspective.
* * *
That Friday, Clarissa was in the back, while Eleanor worked the front desk. Clarissa had agreed to remain until the library closed, in case Eleanor needed help. “Although I know you won’t,” Clarissa said with an encouraging smile. Few patrons visited that evening, and Eleanor was about to round the counter, on the verge of locking the front door, when it opened. Her breath caught as the handsome man who had haunted her thoughts with too great a frequency entered the library.
“Miss Bouchard,” he said with a deferential nod of his head as he took off his hat. “I hope you are enjoying your new position.”
She frowned at his words. “How do you know who I am? Or about my new job? Are you spying on me?” Her eyes flashed with indignation, which verged on ire when he chuckled.
“No, I’m well acquainted with one of the librarians.” A strand of black hair fell over his forehead, almost into his eyes, which appeared green tonight. He tapped his long elegant fingers on the counter that separated them.
“Are you Mr. Bailey?” she asked in a horrified whisper. She glared at him as he laughed at her question.
“No, I’m not. Hester married a fine man but not me.” He grinned at her, and she squirmed at the interest in his gaze. “I know it’s unfair for me to remain unknown to you, but I fear you will want nothing to do with me once you know who I am.”
“Why?” she whispered. Apart from his longer-than-stylish black hair, she appreciated his well-cut gray suit which covered his tall, lanky frame. His trimmed beard had a few patches of gray but only enhanced his attractiveness. “You appear a gentleman.”
“Ah, but appearances can be deceiving,” he murmured but frowned when she flinched.
She backed away a step and crossed her arms over her belly in a protective manner. “I’m afraid you are correct. Is there anything I can do for you?” When he shook his head, she said, “Then I must ask you to leave, as the library is closing.”
“Jeremy!” Clarissa said, as she stepped from the back room. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were here?” She tugged on her coat and wrapped a scarf around her neck. She froze as she saw the shock on Eleanor’s face. When Clarissa looked to Jeremy, he shrugged and shook his head. “Eleanor, I don’t know if you’ve been properly introduced to my brother-in-law, Jeremy McLeod.”
“McLeod?” Eleanor asked in a weak voice.
Jeremy laughed at her tone. “I’m not a leper.” He smiled at Clarissa. “Come. I think Patrick and Fee will have arrived for his birthday celebration.” He looked at Eleanor. “If you have no plans, you should join us.”
“Oh, I could never intrude on a family gathering,” Eleanor said.
“A friend could never intrude,” Clarissa said. “If you decide you’d like to come, we live on the other side of the river.” She rattled off her address. “We won’t eat for another hour, and there will be cake.” She smiled at that and squeezed Eleanor’s arm. “I’m delighted at how well you’ve done and am thankful you’ve joined us, Eleanor. If I don’t see you tonight, I’ll see you Monday.”
Jeremy gave her a long searching look and then winged out his arm for Clarissa. She slipped her arm through his and soon giggled at something he murmured to her. Eleanor watched them leave, fighting envy and an irrational desire to join them at the unknown Patrick’s birthday celebration.
* * *
Jeremy sat in Gabriel’s living room, watching his family interact. Colin’s and Clarissa’s eldest brother, Patrick, held his baby, Sean, in his arms, while his daughter, Rose, played with her cousins. Patrick’s wife, Fiona, laughed at something Araminta said before tickling baby Lily in Araminta’s arms. When Fiona spoke in her quiet way, a hint of Ireland remained in her voice, and her red-gold hair shone in the soft lamplight.
Lucas and Genevieve had surprised them all by arriving with Lizzie, now two, and Uncle Martin in tow. Lucas sprawled on the floor, playing with Billy and Little Colin, while Genevieve spoke with Clarissa about the ongoing struggle to pass the national amendment for universal suffrage.
Uncle Martin sat to one side, a contented smile brightening his expression as he watched the family and chatted with Myrtle and Geraldine.
Gabriel, their good friend Ronan O’Bara, who was more like an honorary uncle, and Colin were in the kitchen doing dishes, although all suspected their supposed punishment for having teased Jeremy about Eleanor in front of the children was no punishment at all. He heard Colin pealing with laughter and Gabriel chortling. Jeremy smiled as he could only imagine what Ronan was saying.
At a soft knock on the front door, Jeremy rose, as he was the only family member not engaged. He held Breandan in his arms and spoke softly to him as he approached the front entrance. “Yes?” he asked, as he yanked open the door. His mouth dropped before curving into a smile. “You came,” he breathed. “I’m afraid you missed supper.”
Eleanor stood outside in the cold mid-April evening, her black wool jacket no match for th
e winds howling out of Hellgate Canyon. She shivered. “I feared I dithered too long,” she whispered, as she spun to scamper away. “Forgive me for interrupting.”
“No.” He reached out with his free hand and grabbed her arm. “We haven’t had cake and coffee yet.”
Her brows furrowed. “I thought your family drank tea.” She flushed at her statement, signaling that she had squirreled away information she’d learned about the McLeods.
“We drink both tea and coffee, although we do prefer tea.” He motioned for her to follow him inside. “Please, come in and meet everyone. I fear it may be overwhelming as Lucas arrived too.”
“I don’t know who anyone is,” she whispered.
He looked down and belatedly noticed her carrying a small wrapped item in one hand. He frowned as he looked at it.
“I … I thought, since it was a birthday party, I should get something for the person named Patrick. But I don’t know if he’s a child or a man.” She flushed as she met Jeremy’s warm gaze. “Thus the dithering at the Merc.”
“Come,” he said in a soft voice. He led her inside and helped her as much as he could to take off her coat. She unpinned her hat and set it with her coat. “This is my son, Breandan. He’s eighteen months old and a fine lad.”
She smiled at the boy with black hair and blue eyes and tickled his toes. “Yes, he looks like a fine lad.” She paled as she glanced into the living room and saw the large number of adults and children. “Oh my,” she breathed. “I really shouldn’t have come.”
“Nonsense. You’re Rissa’s new colleague.” He looked to the living room and met Clarissa’s startled gaze. In an instant, he saw his sister-in-law rise.
“Eleanor! I’m so excited you could make it.” She raced to the entryway and enveloped her in a welcoming hug. “Everyone is eager to meet you.” She looped her arm through Eleanor’s and towed her into the living room to meet the family.
Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine Page 13