Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5)

by Ramona Flightner

  “What are you doing in our room?” Gabriel demanded. He glanced around the previously pristine room, now with cots piled on top of each other, sheets and blankets haphazardly strewn about.

  “Mother’s concerned our increased rodent problem is due to you hoarding food in your room. She wanted us to ensure it was clear of food,” Henry said, holding the small box that had been hidden under Gabriel’s bed.

  “If your mother had any concerns, she should have come to us with them. This is our room. You have no right to enter and cause such destruction,” Gabriel said, unable to hide his anger as his voice deepened and shook.

  “Your room? Your room? This is our house, and we can do whatever we want to whomever we want inside of it. You’d do well to remember it,” Henry said.

  “Why you little . . .”Richard said but was held at bay by Gabriel’s strong arm.

  “Besides, the last thing we need to go through is this little box. It shouldn’t take us long.” Henry shared an amused glance with Nicholas, who stood where Gabriel’s cot had been placed before the destruction.

  Nicholas grabbed the box from his brother and lifted the lid. He watched for the reaction of the three McLeod brothers, but they watched him stonily, the only betrayal of emotion a tightening of Gabriel’s jaw. “Look what we have here, brother. Two apples and a piece of some sort of cake.”

  They took the food and placed it in a rubbish sack.

  Gabriel fisted his hands at his side. “You’ve found the food. Please give me the box.”

  “Did you hear that, Nicholas?” Henry asked his brother with a mocking look at his cousins as he bent over the box held by Nicholas. “He said please. But you don’t always get what you ask for just because you said please.”

  He turned to rifle through the box, pulling out the picture of the two sisters. “The orphans wanted a picture of their mummy,” he taunted. He held it up, a sympathetic expression on his face before he ripped it in half, rending the photo of their mother in two.

  “No!” Jeremy screamed, attempting to push past Gabriel to enter the room.

  Henry watched him triumphantly. “Oh, poor little orphan. Now how will you remember her? Maybe by writing down your pathetic memories?” He held up their small book and ripped out the pages one by one. “This will be good kindling for the fire.”

  “Henry, if you have any sense, you’ll stop,” Gabriel warned.

  “Or what, Gabriel? You have nowhere else to go. No one wants you. You’ll live on the streets, like the worthless beggars you are,” Henry said as he continued to extract the treasures from their box. He tossed their prized copy of Treasure Island into the rubbish sack and then held up the map of the world.

  Gabriel stood even more rigidly as behind him Jeremy inadvertently let out a small whimper.

  “What’s that, Henry?” Nicholas asked as Henry held it up.

  “A map, you idiot,” Richard growled.

  “One you don’t need as you’ll never go anywhere,” Nicholas said as he ripped it in half, then in fourths, and continued to rip it into smaller and smaller pieces.

  Henry grabbed the box from Nicholas, turned it over and shook it. “Ah, it appears there’s no more food, Nicholas. We can assure Mother the orphans will no longer cause her to have the increased rodent problem.”

  Nicholas brushed past the three brothers with a gloating smile, but as Henry moved to walk by Gabriel, Henry was slammed up against a wall, a strong hand around his neck.

  “You may think you’re so very clever,” Gabriel said to Henry. “Treating us as you do because you have all the power, and we have none. But mark my words, Henry. The day will come when the table will be turned. And we will never forget.” He released Henry, thrusting him into the hallway, gasping and choking as he massaged his neck. Any triumphant gloating was replaced by trepidation at what might come to pass.

  Gabriel entered their room and kicked the empty small box, now devoid of any treasures. He moved toward the rear wall and stood under the window, bracing his arms against it as he leaned forward with his head bowed.

  “Gabe?” Jeremy asked. He shared a worried glance with Richard.

  “I’ve tried and tried to make us a home here,” Gabriel rasped. “I can’t do it anymore.” He turned, unable to hide the agony and tears in his eyes, and strode out of the room, brushing past Richard’s attempt to stop him.

  Jeremy stood in the mess of a room next to Richard for a moment before becoming galvanized into action. “Let’s set the room to rights so Gabe feels more at home when he returns.”

  “Jer, nothing’s going to make Gabriel want to return,” Richard said as he grunted, lifting one cot and placing it on the floor where it usually sat.

  “But he will return,” Jeremy argued.

  Richard nodded. “Yeah, for us he will.” They shared a sad, yet relieved smile as they continued to put their room to rights.

  ***

  THE CREAKING OF THE DOOR heralded Gabriel’s return. He slipped into the room, shucking his coat and shoes before he collapsed onto his cot. He didn’t bother to change into his nightclothes, and he lay on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling.

  “Gabe?” Richard murmured. Next to him, Jeremy rustled and yawned.

  “Yeah, I’m back. Sorry I left,” he said.

  “Where’d you go?” Jeremy asked.

  “To find us our freedom,” Gabriel whispered.

  “What’d’ye mean, Gabe?” Jeremy asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

  “When we leave tomorrow, we’re never coming back here.” Gabriel’s voice rang with determination.

  “How are we to afford it?” Richard asked.

  “You’re working at the forge as an apprentice now, earning a little. I’m selling my pieces working with Mr. Smithers. Between the two of us, we can eke out a living. It’ll be a far better life than the one here.”

  “Where will we live?” Richard and Jeremy asked at the same time.

  “Mr. Smithers has an old Italian friend, who knows just about everyone in the North End. Or so it seems when he comes by and visits. During today’s visit, he mentioned a Mrs. Capuano had a place to rent. So I found her place tonight, and, as of tomorrow, it’s ours.”

  He sighed. “I might have been a fool and left our treasures here for Henry and Nicholas to find. But I’ve left my savings with Mr. Smithers to guard. As long as business continues to be good and Rich keeps doing well at the smithy, we should be all right.”

  He turned his head, looking at the shadow of his brothers in the dim light. “There won’t be any fancy foods or trips to the bakery for us. But we will have enough to eat. And we hopefully won’t be too cold during the winter.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Gabe,” Richard said, excitement lacing his voice. “Finally we’ll have our own place and be free of Aunt.”

  “Don’t give anything away tomorrow when we leave. Don’t take any more than usual as we don’t want to make them suspicious.” Gabriel yawned loudly. “Although I’ll take a bag of clothes and say I’m going to the seamstress if asked.”

  “Thanks, Gabe,” Richard whispered, and Jeremy echoed it.

  “There’s nothing to thank me for. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you two. Now let’s get some sleep.” He rolled onto his side, listening until he heard Jeremy’s and Richard’s soft snores before succumbing to his own slumber.

  ***

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING Gabriel awoke to the sound of his aunt’s voice. He groaned and rolled over. He sat up, rubbing his ebony hair, scratching at it before trying to pat it into place. Richard and Jeremy were already dressing, and so Gabriel rose, not having undressed from the night before.

  He pulled out a burlap sack he’d picked up on his travels the previous evening and stuffed in his extra clothes. He held it open for Richard and Jeremy to do the same. When he heard his aunt’s heels clicking toward the entrance of their room, he stuffed it to the side, partially hidden behind his legs and under the cot.

  She thrust
open the door and sputtered as Jeremy was just pulling his shirt over his head. “You layabout, lazy, useless boys. How dare you not be dressed by now!” she said. “I’ve a mind to hold your food for the entire week for your insolence.”

  “Why don’t you, Aunt?” Gabriel asked. “It’s not as though your cook’s any good. Nothing compared to old Mrs. Thynne.”

  “How dare you! You know I would do anything to have her back. How she could ever have been so selfish as to . . . as to . . .”

  “Die?” Jeremy muttered as he pulled down his shirt and tucked it in the waist of his pants. “Yes, how inconvenient for you, Aunt, to have your staff do something you weren’t expecting. Although I imagine it was even more inconvenient for her, seeing as she’s the one no longer here.”

  “You insolent pup!” She moved to strike him, but Gabriel held her arm.

  “No, Aunt,” he growled. “Your days of using us as you wish are coming to an end. We’re bigger than you. No longer can you strike us.”

  She pulled on her arm until it was freed, and then she swung her hand as though to strike Gabriel. He gripped it again with even more force. “No, Aunt. Heed me on this.”

  “All I have ever wanted from you boys is a little respect. Was that too much to ask? You’ve only ever given me disdain and disobedience. Why couldn’t you have shown me the respect I was due? And don’t try to feed me that ridiculous notion that respect is given to those who earn it. I’ve earned your respect. I took you in. Fed you. Clothed you. Housed you. What more could you cretins have wanted?” She looked them over from the tips of their scuffed shoes, their worn and well-washed clothes to their shaggy haircuts.

  “And then to find that my charity has been repaid by you enticing rodents into my home? How is it to be borne? You are the most unappreciative lot I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing.” She glowered at them, raising a finger at them as she continued to expound on all she’d suffered. “Do you know the expense I’ve gone to in order to rid the house of those mice? Of the ants? And do you show any signs of repentance?” She shook her head in wonder. “None!”

  “Aunt, I’m sure this is a fascinating conversation for you to have, but we are going to be late for school and work,” Gabriel said.

  “We aren’t finished, Gabriel McLeod. For I also want to know why a picture I had thought lost was discovered in a box in your room. Thieves! I have had thieves living with me. How you could ever deface a picture of me with my beloved sister . . .” She shook her head.

  “Yes, beloved,” Richard said in a low voice. “We know just how beloved she was.”

  “You’ll never know what I suffered when she married that worthless McLeod. Never.” She spun on her heel and stomped away.

  “Good job, Rich,” Gabriel murmured, poking his head out into the hallway to ensure she was truly gone. He heard her heels clattering up the stairs. “Now we can leave with this bag without her questions.”

  He hefted the burlap sack, and they moved quietly toward the rear entrance, with no acknowledgment from any in the house. There were no maids or footmen to take their leave of, and they slipped out the back door and up the steps.

  Gabriel took a deep breath and placed a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Come to the workshop after school like usual.” Jeremy nodded, and they left out the back gate and into the back alley.

  Jeremy strolled away, toward a trolley that would take him to high school. Richard and Gabriel walked in the opposite direction toward a trolley together. “No Florence today?” Gabriel asked.

  “I can’t meet her in the morning and risk being late for work. I’ll see her tonight.” His voice became hesitant, but he continued. “Florence told me last night of you visiting her.”

  “Rich, I meant to tell you. The night I’d gone, you had had a nasty fight with Henry, I had another one with Aunt, and then . . .” He shook his head. “It seemed the longer I went without telling you, I feared the more angry you’d become.”

  “Why’d you go? She told me a bit, but I want to know from you why you went.”

  “Mr. Smithers doesn’t give much advice, but that he does give is sound. He advised me not to become so protective of the three of us that I refuse to allow anyone else into our little world.” Gabriel shook his head, sharing a chagrined smile with Richard. “I realized that was a large part of my initial dislike of Florence. She was changing us. Or she had the potential to change us, and I’d fought so hard for us to be stable . . .”

  “I understand, Gabe.”

  “I apologized to her for being rude. I like her, Rich. I realized how strong she had to be when she had no one looking out for her. I admire that.”

  “Last night, when Florence first told me that you’d called, I wanted to punch you,” Richard admitted.

  Gabriel laughed. “I’d feel the same if you had called on the woman I was interested in.” He met Richard’s interested gaze. “There is no such woman, Rich. Someday, I hope.”

  Richard nodded. “Do you think you could join me to have tea with her on Sunday? She seemed eager to have us come again, and Mrs. Kruger seems to like us.”

  “Of course I’ll come with you.”

  “She’ll be excited we’ve our own place because . . .”

  “Why, Rich?”

  “Because that means I’m closer to offering for her,” Richard admitted.

  Gabriel stopped, studying Richard with inscrutable blue, almost black, eyes. “You’re this serious about her?”

  “Yes, I am. I’ve known it since I met her. She’s the one I want, and I know we’ll be happy,” Richard said unable to hide a boyish grin. “I was supposed to wait until we were having tea with Mrs. Kruger before I told you that I wanted to court her.”

  Gabriel gave a whoop and then a slap on Richard’s back as he pulled him into a one-armed hug. “Well, this is a momentous day for the McLeods. We are finally free of our aunt. And you have found the woman you love. A momentous day indeed.”

  They walked down the street, a spring in each of their steps as the sadness of the past was banished for the hope of their future.

  ****

  Do you want to learn more about the McLeod brothers, their life in Boston and the women they come to love? Their story continues in Banished Love (Banished Saga, Book One) andReclaimed Love (Banished Saga, Book Two). Look for the third full-length novel in the series in spring 2015.

  Read on for an excerpt from Banished Love.

  AUTHOR'S NOTES

  Do you want to learn more about the McLeod brothers, their life in Boston and the women they come to love? Their story continues in Banished Love (Banished Saga, Book One) and Reclaimed Love (Banished Saga, Book Two). Look for the third full-length novel in the series in spring 2015.

  Read on for an excerpt from Banished Love.

  Author’s Notes

  Thank you for reading Love’s First Flames. Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list, where you’ll be the first to know of updates and special giveaways at http://www.ramonaflightner.com

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  Look for Book Three in the Banished Saga, in Spring 2015.

  Excerpt from Banished Love

  CHAPTER 1

  Boston, March 1900

  MY CLUMSINESS WOULD BE my downfall. So I had been told, and so it seemed when, at twenty-two, I remained single with the possibility of marrying appearing increasingly elusive. Thus, I never suspected my ungainliness would, in the end, be my saving grace. I never imagined that one small stumble, the fall of a ladder and a minor head wound would lead to life-altering events.


  It was a typical day in early March at the public school I taught at in Boston’s immigrant West End. I had a tiny classroom with a small, drafty window overlooking a metal fire escape, teaching children of a variety of ages and skill levels throughout the day.

  After I closed the door to my schoolroom, I entered the next-door room of colleague and friend Florence Butler. I walked past rows of battered children’s desks to stand behind Florence’s larger one at the front of the room to help her wipe clean the well-used chalkboard. Books in need of a proper bookshelf or cabinet lay piled on the floor.

  “Florence, I’m heading home soon,” I said.

  “Did you bring your umbrella?” she asked as she moved to peer out the miniscule window in her room. “It looks like the sky will open up any minute.”

  “Of course not. I just hope I’ll make it to my uncle’s store.”

  “Enjoy your time with Mr. Russell, away from talk of your cousin Savannah’s wedding,” Florence said with a small teasing smile. Her black curly hair formed a riotous mess around her oval face as she pushed her glasses more firmly onto the bridge of her nose.

  “Oh, it will be wonderful to speak of politics or literature.”

  “Rather than flowers and linen,” Florence said.

  I nodded in agreement. “I can’t believe the ceremony isn’t until June.”

  “Maybe that fancy aunt of yours can help them with the wedding plans so they will stop pestering you.”

  “Aunt Betsy is lovely and sure to help. Hopefully Savannah and her mother’s stay with Aunt Betsy in Quincy will quell any desire to speak of Savannah’s wedding with me. I hope Aunt Betsy will exert a calming influence over her sister, aunt Matilda.”

  “I doubt that will happen with Savannah marrying such an important man as that New Yorker, Mr. Montgomery. Be careful, my friend, for now your aunt Matilda will begin to find you such a man. Or even worse, she will join forces with your stepmother.”