“Oh, Sophie,” Clarissa breathed, “what if you are wrong?”
“Have faith, my girl. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by having faith.”
* * *
With Clarissa occupied with Sophronia, Zylphia, and Delia attempting to soothe her, Aidan motioned for Gabriel and Richard to follow him onto Gabriel’s porch. “First, I must apologize to you, my beloved nephew. I believed we had been vigilant enough. I never thought they would be as brazen as they were. Please forgive me for not urging a greater vigilance when you spoke with me before the wedding. If I had not been so foolish, your current agony could have been avoided.”
“This isn’t your fault, Uncle,” Richard protested as Gabriel nodded his agreement.
“Even so, I want to do all I can to make amends. Come, we must go.” Aidan ignored Gabriel’s glower at leaving Clarissa behind. “I know you don’t want to leave her, but we must do things that she shouldn’t be exposed to.” At his nephews’ frowns, he said, “Your cousin is still in town, which I find odd.”
“Henry is still in Missoula?” Gabriel asked. He looked as though he would race down his porch and tear Missoula apart searching for him.
Aidan placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “There is no need to look so fierce, Gabe. I know where he is, and, if we leave now, we should arrive right on schedule.”
Richard frowned at Aidan’s cryptic comment, but they followed Aidan as he walked into downtown Missoula. They smiled to passersby, accepting their congratulations for the beautiful wedding ceremony and deflecting questions about the whereabouts of Little Colin. Thankfully Aidan was adroit at such matters.
Soon Aidan paused in front of a bank. “I believe we are expected.” He checked his watch and smiled with grim satisfaction. “And we are right on time.”
Gabriel shared a perplexed look with Richard, but Aidan gave a perfunctory knock on one of the doors and entered without being invited in. Gabriel and Richard followed.
After all three had entered, Aidan kicked the door closed and smiled at the two men inside. “Hello, Bartholomew.” He nodded at the flicker of admiration and relief he saw in the younger man’s gaze. “Henry,” Aidan said in an arctic tone. “Imagine my displeasure at seeing you at my nephew’s wedding. Whenever you are near, nefarious deeds are imminent.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “As usual, you McLeods are delusional.” He flicked a finger over the cloth covering his crossed knee. as though he were just as easily ridding himself of the irritation posed by the McLeods.
“Would you care to be seated?” Bartholomew asked, motioning to chairs near his desk. Aidan sat on one at an angle to Henry so that Aidan could closely watch the man and Bartholomew. Gabriel and Richard remained standing, their presence blocking the door.
Henry scooted his chair so that he sat sideways, facing Aidan straight on and able to see everyone in the room. “I fail to understand why you would presume to interrupt a private transaction at a bank. A man is allowed some privacy in his affairs.”
“Not when they have to do with a missing child,” Aidan snapped. His cheeks were flushed with his irritation, and his blue eyes flashed with fury when he studied the practiced nonchalance of Gabriel’s cousin.
“As if I would want anything to do with that brat,” he said, although his half smile held a hint of self-congratulatory delight.
“Of course you would,” Gabriel said, as he took a step closer to his cousin. “You tried to steal Rose a few years ago. Why wouldn’t you take my boy?”
Henry’s eyes flashed with displeasure. “In case you forgot, in your aging feeblemindedness, Rose is my daughter, no matter what that pathetic number-pusher believes.”
Aidan shook his head. “When is her birthday?” At Henry’s vacant stare, Aidan continued with a barrage of questions. “When did she first walk? What was her first word? Does she have nightmares? What’s her favorite food?” He leaned forward, hatred shining in his eyes at the man’s indifference. “If you were her father, you’d know those answers. And you’d care.”
“Such sentimentality. But then I should have expected no better from the McLeods. My mother did warn me about you,” he said with a resigned sigh. “That there would be no reasoning with you.”
Richard canted forward at the mention of their detested aunt who had mistreated them as boys. “What did our beloved aunt have to say?” Richard asked, his voice laced with sarcasm at the word beloved.
“She lost her darling sister to your gutter-scum father.” Henry paused as though waiting to see if that would get a rise out of either brother, seemingly disappointed at their restraint. “However, she soon realized that her sister’s absence would be her gain, for she convinced her father that any meager inheritance should never be shared equally. For a woman to so easily give up her birthright should come with some … repercussions.”
“You bastard,” Gabriel breathed. “You stole our mother’s rightful inheritance?”
“I didn’t,” he said with a smile. “But, with a few successful investments, and an advantageous marriage on Mother’s part, we did quite well.” He glared at Aidan. “Yet you McLeods find a way to survive.”
Aidan shook his head. “No, we thrive. And that’s what bothers you the most, isn’t it, Henry?” He reached forward and gripped the thin-framed man’s wrist, provoking a gasp of pain. “Where is my great-nephew? Don’t act as though you have no idea. I know Mrs. Smythe isn’t bright enough to have planned the entire thing. Where is he?”
Henry smiled with evil triumph. “In a place you’ll never find him. And soon he will be lost to you forever.” He yanked his arm free. “Good day, gentlemen.” He pushed past Richard, who had stepped aside at Aidan’s nod to let him go.
When the door shut behind him, Gabriel collapsed into a chair, ashen and shaking. “They took my boy.” He rubbed his forehead and then stiffened his shoulders as he focused on Bartholomew Bouchard, who had borne silent witness to the entire exchange. “What part did you have to play in all this?”
Bartholomew shook his head. “Nothing, except speaking a few words with Henry at the wedding and seeing him this morning. When I knew we would meet, I sent a letter to your uncle. I thought he’d want to know.”
Aidan ran his fingers over the edge of his hat, as he considered all Bartholomew didn’t say. “Why?”
Bartholomew rose and paced the small area behind his desk. “I know what Henry’s capable of. As well as anyone. He’s a brutal man who believes he can bludgeon anyone into doing his bidding. He resents all of you because you don’t fall in line.” He sighed. “I saw him speaking with Mrs. Sullivan. Smythe.” He waved his hand around. “Whatever you want to call that woman. She seemed unhinged, and her voice carried on the wind. I heard her excited words about finally having a child.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think anything of it, until I heard yesterday your child was missing. And then Henry wanted a meeting.” He cleared his throat. “He wanted to know if I had any experience with orphanages in San Francisco.”
“No!” Gabriel roared as he bolted out of his chair, his hands pounding onto Bartholomew’s desk. “No.” His gaze glinted with terror.
Bartholomew watched him with compassion as he nodded. He bit his lip and then whispered, “Yes. They, Henry, whoever they are working with, plan on ferrying him away from here. Ensuring you never find him.” He looked at them with a solemn gaze. “They want you to lose a child as they believe they lost children to you.”
Gabriel collapsed into the chair, a subtle shuddering racing through him. “How will I ever tell her?” he whispered. “How?” he gasped. “I was a fool to believe they wouldn’t take one of the children. That they’d focus on Rissa or me.” He closed his eyes. “I should have known that they would attack us in this way. That they’d know our children were our greatest treasure and joy.”
Aidan gripped the back of his nape, while Richard clasped his arm. “Gabriel,” Aidan said in a strong voice. “You can’t have known what two deranged
people would do.” He waited until Gabriel met his gaze. “I can promise you that we’ll search every orphanage from here to California. We’ll find Little Colin. We’ll leave no stone unturned.”
Gabriel looked from his uncle to his brother—his gaze devastated. “I can’t lose another son. Another child.” His body shook as he fell forward into his brother’s embrace, taking a few moment’s comfort before he had to return home to speak with Clarissa.
Chapter 29
Two days after their wedding, Jeremy coaxed Eleanor into wearing casual clothes and romping around the secluded ranch where they honeymooned. “Explore with me, love. We’ve managed to remain inside for the past two days, and I want to see the creek and meadows the baron talked about.”
“As long as we will continue to have our nights together,” she whispered, before she kissed him passionately.
“Oh, we’ll have our nights. And our naps. And our after-breakfast breaks.” He winked at her when she flushed with pleasure. “Come, love.”
They walked hand in hand out the door and headed away from the road that led to the cabin, opting to venture toward the trees and the sound of running water. Soon they were near a creek, gurgling over rocks. Willows grew along the banks; butterflies and flies flitted in the sunshine, while a kingfisher made its clacking sound as it swooped along the creek, and a goldfinch darted from willow to willow. He paused as he saw Eleanor watching the scene with wonder. She breathed in deeply of the redolent pine-scented air mixed with the mossy creek scent and then smiled at him.
“This is heaven,” she murmured.
“I love the sound of the creek,” he said in agreement. “If this were my land, I would opt to build my cabin close enough to hear the babbling of this water.”
“Babbling?” she teased. “Does it talk?” She squealed as he tickled her, laughing harder as he spun her around and toppled them to a soft patch of ground.
“Yes, you forest imp, the brook speaks,” he whispered, kissing his way down her neck. “It tells me that it’s been too long since I loved my wife.”
“Oh, I like that brook,” she said with a sigh of agreement. She arched into his touch as his hands roved over her cloth-covered breast, gasping with delight as he discovered she had foregone the bother of a corset today. Just as he began to work on her buttons, she stilled, lifting her head in confusion. “Jeremy, stop. I hear someone crying.”
“It’s the brook,” he murmured. Then he kissed along her bared upper chest.
“No,” she said, gripping his head and meeting his frustrated gaze. “Listen.”
He attempted to still his breathing and closed his eyes to better hear his surroundings. In the distance, he heard a cry. “Is that a child crying?” he asked. He rose, reaching down to help her up. After ensuring all her buttons were fastened, he swiped the back of her dress to rid it of any leaves or needles and then walked with her hand in hand in the direction of the sound they heard.
Soon they were in the forest, away from the creek. The sound was intermittent, and they had to stop to gain their bearings every few steps. Suddenly they came across a hidden shack in the woods. It appeared to be the original property dwelling, abandoned many years ago. The roof sagged; shingles had blown away during harsh Montana storms, and the rickety wooden walls looked as though the next bracing wind would knock them over.
He yanked on Eleanor’s arm, pulling her to a hiding spot behind a tree as he saw a woman exit the shack. His blood boiled at the sight of Mrs. Smythe. “What’s she doing up here?” he whispered to his wife. At her shrug of confusion, he focused on Mrs. Smythe again. He saw her heading to the privy and leaped to his feet. Holding a finger to his mouth, he led Eleanor to the entrance to the shack, easing open the door.
After a moment, his eyes adjusted to the darkened interior, noting the daylight entering through holes in the boards that formed the sides of the hut, the rays hitting the dirt floor and the unlit candles on the tiny table. He looked around for the crying baby and poked his head into a room, blanching at the sight of Little Colin in filthy clothes.
“Hey, little buddy,” he murmured, as he picked him up. A distant slam of a wooden door heralded the imminent arrival of Mrs. Smythe, and he looked around for something to attack her with. However, he didn’t see anything in the small room Little Colin was in. He panicked as he realized Eleanor was in the front room and would soon face Mrs. Smythe on her own.
“Eleanor,” he gasped as he raced to the door, just as Mrs. Smythe entered. He stood in the shadows as his wife hovered behind the door, a thick stick in her hands.
“About time you stopped your caterwauling,” Mrs. Smythe snapped when she entered the shack. “Why I ever thought it a good idea to take you is beyond me. If I have my way, I’ll send you to an orphanage too. But one in a big city, where your parents will never find you.” She failed to look around the shack as she stood near the one table in the room. “I swear, if I ever see that Sanders again, I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”
“And why is that, Mrs. Smythe?” Jeremy asked, moving out of the shadows. He gave a warning shake of his head as she shrieked and leaped forward, as though to snatch Little Colin back.
“You have no right to be here! He’s mine! Mine! Especially after you stole my daughter from me,” she said, as she trembled in anger.
“As you just admitted, you sent her to an orphanage. You had no regard for her. As you’ve never had any regard for anyone.” He waited as she seemed to become even angrier at him. “Why would you mention my cousin?”
“Oh, you McLeods think you are so cunning, don’t you? That because you are part of your family that you will always live charmed lives. But you won’t. Samuel and I will make sure of it.”
“By stealing our children?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “By trying to ruin our marriages?” He shook his head. “I fail to understand why you go to such trouble over us. We are hardly worth your time or energy.”
“I should have been a wealthy woman, if not for a McLeod! Samuel would have had fortunes galore, if Aidan McLeod hadn’t pulled his money from the stock exchange before the Panic of ’07. You owe us.”
Jeremy shook his head. “We owe you nothing. All we’ve ever wanted is for you and Henry to leave us in peace. I do not believe that is too much to ask.” He took a step away from her as she gave a maniacal scream and reached for something in her pocket. “No!” he screamed as he turned his back to protect his nephew.
Eleanor, who had remained hidden behind Mrs. Smythe, raised her log and slammed it down over Mrs. Smythe’s head. She trembled as the woman moaned and then crumpled to the ground in front of her, a pistol slipping from her hands as she lay facedown. “Oh, my God, she was going to shoot you,” Ellie whispered as her hands shook. She raised the log as though to belt Mrs. Smythe again.
“No, take Little Colin,” Jeremy said, passing his nephew to his wife. He then hefted Mrs. Smythe over his shoulder and led the way from the shack. After a few wrong turns, they found their way back to their cabin in the woods. Just as Mrs. Smythe began to groan and rouse from the clobbering she received from Eleanor, Jeremy set her in a chair, tying her firmly to it. He bound her hands and feet three times, effectively hog-tying her so she would not escape. When she began to moan and complain, he stuffed a rag in her mouth, so he wouldn’t have to listen to her talk.
When he was assured Mrs. Smythe was secured, he squeezed his wife’s shoulder as she sat entertaining Little Colin and then moved to the phone to make two phone calls.
* * *
Gabriel eased open the door, listening for the sounds of women talking. Instead an eerie silence filled his home. He paused on the doorstep, his soul calling out for the usual noises of his home: Myrtle’s laugh, Billy’s loud voice and thumping feet as he raced about, Geraldine’s soft tone as she told a story, or Little Colin’s contented chortle as he played with his toys. Gabriel’s hand tightened on the door as he fought the urge to turn and flee his home that had a tomb-like essence. He straig
htened his shoulders, forcing his feet to propel him forward. He refused to fail Clarissa this time.
When he looked into the living room, Delia read a book; Sophie napped—although he knew she’d thunk him with her cane if he called it anything other than “resting her eyes”—and Clarissa sat staring in space. “Rissa,” he whispered.
She turned at his voice, absently noting when Richard and Aidan followed him in. “You left.”
He sat beside her and kissed her palm. “Yes. Uncle needed me to run an errand with him. It turned out to be rather important.” At the flash of hope in her gaze, he quickly shook his head. “I have a bit of a story to tell you.”
“No,” she whispered. “Not now. I can tell it isn’t one I want to hear.” She pushed herself into his arms. “Just hold me. Let me gain the strength I need to hear whatever it is I must face.”
He wrapped his strong arms around her, kissing her head as she snuggled into him. He ran soothing hands over her back as she trembled, and he refused to say meaningless words to prevent her from sobbing out her heartache against his shoulder. He held her as she cried, accepting her grief as she had always accepted his. When she calmed, he murmured, “There’s my love. My darling.”
He swore softly as the distant ring of the telephone interrupted their quiet interlude. He kissed her on her head again and rose, murmuring, “I’m sure that’s the detective with news.” He strode purposefully to the kitchen, rubbing at the wet spot on his shirt left by Clarissa’s tears, as though it could ease the ache in his heart. After the fourth ring, he took a bracing breath and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Gabe? It’s Jeremy. I … I have some news.”
Gabriel lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting disappointment that it wasn’t Aidan’s detective with an update but his blissfully ignorant brother on his honeymoon. “Listen, Jer, we need you home now. I understand if you want more time with your bride, but …”
Triumphant Love: Banished Saga, Book Nine Page 44