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

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Undaunted Love (PART ONE): Banished Saga, Book 3 Page 23

by Ramona Flightner


  “That’s because you are a wonderful woman, my darling,” Gabriel said huskily. I met his gaze, love shining from deep within. “You’d think of the pain she’ll suffer rather than what you endured at his hands.”

  “Can I come with you to the hospital?” I asked.

  “Of course, although I thought you hated the sickroom.”

  “I do, but I want to see Seb. Then I’ll go over to Amelia’s and tend the children while she’s at the hospital.”

  “I doubt she’ll spend much time there,” Gabriel said. “It’s a small town, and she won’t want to engender more talk than’s already circulating about the two of them.”

  I sighed, leaning into Gabriel for a moment before kissing his collarbone and then moving away to rise. He grasped my hand as I sat on the edge of the bed on the verge of standing. I turned to face him, my long hair cascading over my back to my hips, brushing the top of the bed.

  “After Seb is better, why don’t we finally take a small vacation together somewhere? Go to Hamilton on the train, see those Bitter Root mountains your Mr. Pickens talks about?” He brushed his fingers through the edge of my hair.

  “We don’t have the money for that, darling,” I whispered.

  “We’ve a little saved, and I’d like time with my wife. Time without friends and family always around us.”

  I smiled and leaned toward him, intending to kiss him but for a moment, yet the kiss deepened. I broke it with a groan, smiling with chagrin. “If we keep that up, we’ll never make it to see Seb.”

  “And that’s exactly why we need time away,” Gabriel said. “Although we’ll probably never see those mountains and that small town everyone is raving about.”

  I blushed and pushed away, rising. I moved toward the side of the bedroom area to the closet to prepare for the day.

  Gabriel rose, caressed my shoulders, kissed my nape and murmured, “I’ll make fresh tea.” He moved past me, and I soon heard him rummaging around in the kitchen.

  ***

  WE ARRIVED AT THE HOSPITAL, and Gabriel led me through the doors, down a well-lit corridor and up a flight of stairs to the room Sebastian was in. His bed was in the middle of a rectangular room, only three of the eight beds occupied. On his side of the room, the bed to either side of his was unoccupied. On the other side of the room, only one man lay on his side, staring out the window.

  Sebastian looked flushed and was sweating. I approached him and touched his face, moving my hand from his forehead to cheek to neck. “He’s no fever,” I whispered to Gabriel. “Why’s he sweating so much?”

  “Pain,” Sebastian gasped as his pain-dulled eyes opened. “’Lo, ’Larissa.” He licked at his dried lips, grimacing with any movement as he inadvertently shifted in the bed.

  “Don’t scare us again like this, Sebastian,” I said through tears as I gripped his hand. I eased my hold on them when I saw the white bandages and his grimace at my grip.

  “I’ll try not to,” he whispered.

  Gabriel picked up the chair from the other side of the bed and moved it beside where I was standing so we could both sit at Sebastian’s side and face him. “Why don’t they give you more to ease your suffering?”

  “Don’t want more. Don’t want to become some addict.” He gripped his teeth as he fought a shiver of pain.

  “Sebastian, if it can help you now, that’s what you need to consider,” I urged. “How can you heal well while suffering such agony?” I pulled my clean handkerchief from my purse and blotted his forehead.

  “Thank you,” Sebastian said as his eyes closed. “Gabe, everyone at the mill got out all right, didn’t they?”

  Gabriel shared a long glance with me. “Well, Seb, everyone but Cameron. He never emerged.”

  “God dammit,” Seb hissed as he opened his eyes.

  “What happened?” Gabriel asked.

  “You know as well as I do, I’ve been working late. Trying to finish orders, doing paperwork. I thought the men had left for the night but turns out some of them were slow to leave. And then I heard them screaming about a fire.”

  He sighed. “We could account for almost everyone. Except for Benedict and Cameron. I doused myself in water and ran in. Something landed on my back, and I must have blacked out. Next thing I knew I was outside with my men around me. Benedict had already gone home but came running at the sound of the bells.”

  “Seb, you did all you could.” Gabriel reached out to grip his shoulder but stilled his hand, as though realizing any touch would lead to more pain. He patted the bed next to Sebastian instead.

  “They assured me that they’d seen Cameron out, that he was fine. Are you sure he’s dead?” Sebastian demanded.

  “His charred remains were found a few feet from where the falling timber hit you,” Gabriel said, meeting my shocked stare. “I spoke with Colin for a few moments this morning while Rissa changed.”

  I shuddered, curling into myself at the image Gabriel painted. He placed an arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him.

  “What’s important, Sebastian, is that you will heal,” I whispered. “We didn’t lose you.”

  He nodded as his eyes drifted shut. “Tell Amelia …” he whispered but was asleep before he finished his sentence.

  ***

  GABRIEL AND I LEFT the hospital and, for one of the few times in my life, I was thankful for my corset. Its stiff binding forced me to walk upright, rather than stooped over with the weight of my concern for Sebastian. I looped my arm through Gabriel’s, and he gripped my hand.

  “I should stop by the depository for a moment. I’ve just returned to work and now I have to take a day away. I should speak with Mr. A.J.,” I said.

  “Yes, and give him your version of events before he hears from the sisters,” Gabriel said. He sighed and slowed our pace. “I wish you could have waited to return to work there until we’d had our time away.”

  “I didn’t want to antagonize the sisters, after they had granted me a raise, by advising them I wouldn’t return for several more weeks.” I squeezed his hand. “And we’ll find a way to travel.”

  We walked the short distance to the depository, and I grimaced as I heard Mrs. Bouchard’s voice as we climbed the stairs.

  “Did I not tell you that woman would bring disgrace upon this town? That she would be the reason for God-fearing Missoulians to huddle under their covers at night?” Mrs. Bouchard’s bellows reverberated around the room.

  I glanced toward the windows, thankful they were once again closed. She paced between the tables, bumping into the edges of them periodically with her wide hips. Her dress was a gray satinlike fabric that shimmered when she walked.

  “Do you know that, due to her antics, the good people of Missoula will be deprived of the wedding of the decade? They will not see my beautiful daughter married. They will never have the good fortune to see the suit I purchased especially for the occasion. All of the planning ruined. Ruined, due to that wretched girl.”

  “I can hardly see how a fire in a sawmill could be construed as my fault, Mrs. Bouchard,” I said. “I was never the one keen to have Mr. Wright employed in a place he was ill-prepared for and ill-trained to work in. I was never the one to interfere in my husband’s business.”

  “You insufferable—”

  “I’d watch yourself, Mrs. Bouchard,” Gabriel said with thinly veiled menace. “I’ve heard all I care about the sisters’ opinions on my wife and her previous relationship with Mr. Wright. He suffered a tragic death, a death that neither my wife nor I had any part in.”

  “Darn straight,” Mr. Pickens said with a thump of his cane. “If you had any sense, mouthy, you’d know fire is one of the greatest dangers in one o’ those mills. Either that or sawin’ off a limb. Can’t imagine why you ever wanted that pampered wasterel workin’ there.”

  Mrs. Bouchard and Gabriel stared at Mr. Pickens for a moment, and then I half smiled. “Wastrel. You mean wastrel, Mr. A.J.”

  “Exactly. Useless, good-for-nothing
rich boy. Thought he could come out here and impress all us townsfolk with his pretty clothes and smart accent. Well, most of us weren’t fooled. Just his dumb bad luck you were, Mrs. Bouchard. Thinkin’ you could put him to use in a sawmill. A sawmill of all places. If anyone’s to blame, it’s you.” He thumped his cane so hard I thought he’d crack the ancient floor.

  “Mr. Pickens, I expect you to show me the respect I am due as one of the leading townswomen. As a patron of this fine establishment.” Her bosom heaved with her distress. “I have suffered greatly in the past few hours, all due to this … this abomination of womanhood.”

  “I repeat, Mrs. Bouchard, I had nothing to do with Cameron’s unfortunate and untimely death. If you continue to speak about me in such a manner, I will consider suing you for slander,” I said, my hands gripped at my sides, my nails gouging into my palms.

  “I’ve never said an untrue thing in my life.”

  “You’ve built your life around half-truths,” Gabriel said, “never caring who you hurt in the process. It stops now, Mrs. Bouchard.”

  “Oh, you think so? You think you’re so cunning, acting the happily married couple when I know the truth. I know you can barely stand touching her. Soiled goods.”

  “That is enough!” Gabriel roared. I felt him next to me, vibrating with anger. His cheeks flushed, and I feared that he would lose control of his rage as he faced Mrs. Bouchard. “I understand your family has suffered a loss, and, for that, I am sorry. But you will apologize to my wife. For there isn’t and never has been anything soiled about her.” His eyes gleamed with sincerity and passion as he confronted Mrs. Bouchard.

  She turned from him, then to me, watching us. “I refuse to be misled, unlike the rest of the townsfolk, that you are happy in your choice of wife.”

  “The only one who’s a fool is you, mouthy,” Mr. Pickens said. “Anyone could see there’s not a happier newlywed couple around. Course yer not only deaf, you’re blind to what’s right in front of you.” He shook his head at her.

  “I suppose you’ll now try to convince me that Mr. Carlin never intended to steal the money in the safe while he was manufacturing his attempt to save poor Mr. Wright?” She placed one hand on her gray suit, glaring at each of us in our turn.

  “What are you talking about?” Gabriel asked. “Seb heard there was a fire and ran to help. Like anyone with sense would who works at a mill.”

  “You really are the most easily duped man,” Mrs. Bouchard said with scorn. “I wonder what it’s like to go through life trusting in those around you like you do.”

  “Mr. Carlin nearly died trying to save Mr. Wright,” I insisted.

  “So you think,” she said. “Seems one of his cohorts took the money from the safe while he provided a suitable distraction.”

  “I wouldn’t call nearly being burned to death a distraction,” Gabriel ground out.

  “Call it what you will, but those in the know understand Sebastian Carlin isn’t worth trusting,” Mrs. Bouchard said. “As I suspect few are who associate with the likes of you.”

  “Mouthy, you say any more against Missy, and I’ll torch this place myself, Bessie or no Bessie,” Mr. Pickens said with a thump of his cane. “I hear tell books burn almost as fast as sawdust.”

  Mrs. Bouchard paled before she spun on her heels and stomped down the stairs. I moved toward Mr. Pickens and collapsed on my stool.

  “You all right there, Missy?” Mr. Pickens asked me. He canted toward me to steady me as I listed to the side with him nearly toppling off his chair. He caught himself with his cane and grunted his approval as Gabriel moved to kneel beside me.

  “You showed that trumped-up bag o’ air yer not gonna run away just because she’s got it in her craw that someone other than herself’s to blame for this disaster.” Mr. A.J. grinned his approval.

  “Is it true though, what she said about Seb and the money?” Gabriel asked, his hands lightly stroking my back and shoulders.

  “Alls I’ve heard is that a goodly sum is missin’,” Mr. A.J. said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they searched his home.”

  “Seeing as he hasn’t been there, how’d they expect to find anything?” I asked, any feeling of lassitude evaporating with my ire at Sebastian’s treatment.

  “Well, see, Missy? Yer talkin’ like someone who’s usin’ sense. That’s sorely missin’ right now.” He shook his head, pursing his lips as though blowing out smoke from a cigar. “If I were that trussed-up friend of yours lyin’ in a hospital bed, I’d be mighty worried.”

  CHAPTER 28

  I STOOD IN ONE of the upstairs’ bedrooms in Aidan’s house, balancing on one foot and then the other, listening to the floorboards creak. I moved toward the small cupboard by the right side of the bed, placing a few pieces of clothing inside. A tree outside provided shade to this room, and it was darker than usual for midafternoon.

  “Is everything all set, Rissa?” Gabriel asked as he poked his head in. He came in, shutting the door behind him. “It’ll just be for a little while.”

  “I know, but I like our home,” I whispered.

  “I’d thought the rooms were bigger.” He glanced around at the double bed set against the wall to the right of the door; two small tables sat on either side of the bed, and a bureau was at the foot of it. “Not much more would fit in here.”

  “Seeing as all we have to do is sleep, we’ll be fine,” I said. I giggled at Gabriel as he winked at me before sobering. “How is Seb?” I glanced behind Gabriel to ensure the door was closed.

  “Determined to prove he didn’t steal the money. But I don’t know how he can. Only he and Mr. Bouchard had access to the safe.”

  “I’ll never believe he stole it.”

  “Nor I. But those sisters have stirred up trouble again,” Gabriel said, reaching forward to pry open my fisted hands, caressing one of my palms to relax me.

  “I know, and that’s why I’m willing to stay here until he’s able to live at his place. I don’t want Amelia to suffer more from their gossip.”

  “Nor do I, although I’m afraid they’ll think we aren’t the best chaperones for two unmarried people.”

  “Well, according to society standards, we suffice.”

  Gabriel bent down and met my eyes, before giving me a quick kiss. “Society can go hang. But, for Amelia and Seb, I’m glad we do.” He squeezed my shoulder before turning toward the door. “I should return to the workshop. Will you be home today?”

  “No, I’ll stay here. I have what I need for now. I sent a note to Mr. Pickens explaining I wouldn’t be in today. I’ll see if I can help Amelia.” I leaned into him, standing on my toes to give him another quick kiss. “I’ll see you tonight.” Gabriel traced my jaw, smiled tenderly, then opened the door and strode down the hall. I heard his boots on the stairs and then the front door closing behind him.

  I walked across the hall and knocked on Sebastian’s door. After waiting a few moments, I turned to leave before I heard his voice calling me to enter.

  His room was almost a mirror of ours, although slightly bigger because two chairs were crammed inside, one on either side of the bed. In our room, no chairs would fit. I sat on the chair near the door because he lay on that side, facing me.

  “How are you, Sebastian?”

  “Fit as a fiddle.” His eyes fluttered as though fighting sleep. “Thank you for agreeing to come here. To protect Amelia.” His voice was weakened by pain and fatigue.

  “Of course. I’m glad she was able to take you in.” I reached forward, touching his forehead, and relaxed when I felt no sign of fever.

  “Did you know she used house money to wire Mr. Aidan? Asking him if I could stay here?” He opened an eye and saw me shaking my head. “She received his permission, though I don’t know what she would have done had the man said no.”

  “Aidan’s not that type of man.”

  “You seem confident in who he is, when you barely met the man.”

  “I know his nephew well. He seems a man of int
egrity.”

  “If you’re talking ’bout Gabe, I agree. The uncle, I don’t know. But I’d have to be willing to think the same after he agreed with Amelia.”

  “How are you really?” I reached out again, unable to sit still, and straightened his blanket. His strong hand gripped mine, and I looked up to meet his eyes. Tortured, devastated amber eyes.

  “Ruined, Clarissa,” he rasped. “There’s no way to prove I didn’t plan the robbery. Only my good name, and there’s too many here willing to believe the worst of a man.”

  “There has to be a way. I refuse to admit defeat.”

  “Mr. Bouchard will already have replaced me. Of that I have no doubt.”

  “With whom?” I cried. “You’re talented, capable, reliable. I’ve heard how the men of your mill talk about you with respect.”

  “Oh, there are always those waiting in the wings, just biding their time.” Sebastian closed his eyes. “Just like I bade mine, someone else’s done the same.”

  “How did you become foreman?”

  “The man I replaced died. Accident in the mill.” He shook his head. “No need for you to hear any of the details.”

  “That’s my point, Sebastian. You didn’t die, and you didn’t steal that money.”

  “I’m thankful you believe in me, but not many folks will.” He moved a bit on his side, hissing in a breath of pain which the movement wrought.

  “Don’t give up hope,” I said, gripping his hand. He blinked once before his eyes fluttered shut and his breath slowed with sleep. I watched him a few minutes before I rose, leaving him to his sleep.

  ***

  A FEW NIGHTS LATER, I lay on my side, attempting to ignore the low rumble of deep male voices as Gabriel and Sebastian talked late into the night. Sleep eluded me, although I was bone tired. Dinner had been a tense, stilted affair with Amelia offering little more than one-word responses to our questions.

  I heard Sebastian’s door click shut and then ours open as Gabriel slipped inside. I rose up on my elbow and watched Gabriel creeping around the room, attempting to walk quietly in his boots. He stifled a curse as he stubbed his toe on the bureau, and I giggled. He glanced toward the bed and grinned at me.

 

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