Resilient Love: Banished Saga, Book 7

by Ramona Flightner

  Colin flushed and ducked his head. “Things are the same with Ari. And you’re right. I shouldn’t be lecturing you when I’m as horrible at relationships as you are. However, I’m also not married.”

  “Numerous couples sleep in separate bedrooms.”

  “Generally because they can’t stand each other,” Colin murmured. “Why won’t you try, Pat?”

  Patrick set his nearly empty coffee cup on the porch floor and sighed. “For various reasons,” Patrick murmured. “I remember what she was like, what our relationship was like before he intervened. It was sweet and almost innocent.” His hopeful, yearning gaze darkened after a few moments. “And then, to have everything change, because of him. Because he saw her as a pawn.”

  “Are you still angry with her?” Colin whispered.

  “No,” Patrick said. “I understand why she did what she did. In many ways it was to protect me and our family.” He rubbed at his wet pant leg. “Do you know what it’s been like, ever since I married her?” His distant gaze was unfocused as though seeing scenes only visible to him. “I tried to soothe her, to show her how she could trust me. Trust that I wouldn’t hurt her. To show her that my touch wouldn’t be debasing like his.” He clamped his jaw tight at the thought of Samuel Sanders, his former boss, abusing Fiona. The same Samuel Sanders who was also known as Henry Masterson, Gabriel’s and Jeremy’s cousin from Boston.

  Patrick sighed once, then again, his hands unclenching on his thighs. “Even now, every time I touch her, she flinches. Every time I approach her to speak with her, she tenses. As though she’s waiting for some form of abuse.” He closed his eyes. “I find I have no desire to spark such fear in her.”

  Colin grunted and crossed one leg on top of the other. “I think you’re allowing your fear to guide you as much as hers. She might reject you”—he shrugged as he met his brother’s guarded gaze—“but then she might not. Have you ever considered that she’s waiting for you to show your interest?”

  Patrick snorted. “What else must I do?”

  Colin smiled. “Not sleep in another bedroom for starters. Let her accustom herself to you next to her at night. With no expectation other than holding her in your arms. I’d think that would go a long way to soothing her nerves and to proving you’re a different man than Sanders.”

  “I shouldn’t have to prove I’m a better man than that bastard,” Patrick growled.

  Colin nodded. “I know. And rationally she knows that too. But fear isn’t rational, Pat. Look at how you refused to discuss the truth of what occurred between you and Mrs. Smythe. You were terrified of losing us all again, even though you had to have known we would support you.”

  Patrick watched his brother intently for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “I’ll think about what you say.”

  Colin stretched. “Excellent.” He extracted a newspaper from next to Patrick’s chair. He took a sip of coffee and then choked as he read. “Did you see what the miners wrote in their first strike bulletin?” He gasped, cleared his throat and read, “‘We have nothing to lose but our chains.’”

  “What?” Patrick grabbed the paper to read it himself. “Of course the Company will make much of such a comment in their papers. What could the miners have been thinking?”

  “It’s too much like Marx and his Manifesto. Don’t they know they have to toe the line to earn public support? They can’t go around spouting such drivel if they want to garner the goodwill of those who aren’t in mining.” Colin shook his head in disbelief.

  “When did you read Marx?” Patrick asked with a quirk of an eyebrow.

  “Clarissa isn’t the only one in the family who had radical tendencies. Hers have persisted while mine died an early death.” He winked at Patrick. “I found it to be an interesting, although impractical, read. I was also disappointed in myself to realize I’m too much of a capitalist to ever fully support such radical ways of thinking.”

  Patrick sighed as he heard a small cry from indoors. “Peace is over. I must go help Fee.” He slapped Colin on his shoulder. “I’m sure Fee will have breakfast ready in a few minutes.” Patrick entered the house, holding out his arms for a fussy Rose. “There’s my beautiful girl,” he crooned. He settled her on his shoulder and walked with her around the living room as she sniffled and fought fully waking. He told her stories and rubbed her back as she calmed.

  Fiona entered the living room and met her husband’s gaze. He nodded at her unspoken question. “She’s ready for her breakfast. If she doesn’t eat now, she’ll be too busy playing with …” He broke off and nodded toward the porch. He knew if he mentioned Colin’s name, Rose would forgo eating to spend time with one of her favorite people.

  Patrick followed Fiona into the kitchen and held Rose on his lap, feeding her bites of egg, toast and bacon. When she’d had her fill, she squirmed on his lap to get down. He stood, following Rose with her unsteady gait to the front door, smiling as she patted Patrick’s leg and called Colin’s name. Although Patrick busied himself with the care of his daughter, thoughts of his wife and his conversation with Colin were ever-present.

  Lucas Russell answered the door, pulling his cousin Colin Sullivan into a hug and slapped him on the back a few times. Lucas nodded at Patrick and Fee, holding a sleeping Rose and standing behind Colin. “It’s wonderful to see you, Col. Glad to have you to our home for supper. I know it’s only been a few months since we traveled to Missoula for little Colin’s birthday party, but it’s still been too long.”

  Genevieve smiled as she watched her husband’s joy at seeing a close family member. “Lucas is delighted when family from Missoula visits.”

  Colin laughed, bending to kiss Genevieve on her cheek. “Then he should move to Missoula. Sav would love to have her brother nearby.”

  “Preferably next door,” Lucas said with a chuckle as he thought about his sister.

  Patrick raised an eyebrow as he watched his brother. “I would have to disagree, Colin. We enjoy having them with us here in Butte.” They finished their round of greetings with little Rose receiving the most kisses, but never work up, before they all ventured into the dining room.

  “I love this room,” Fiona breathed, as she placed the still-sleeping Rose into an improvised crib Lucas has positioned near the dining table. Situated toward the back of the house, the dining room had a bowed window with stained glass in the top panes. Built-in shelves and cabinets in the walls allowed for the easy storage of linens and silverware, and a large maple table filled the center of the room.

  After they had passed the food around, their discussions continued. “How are things at work, Pat?” Lucas asked.

  “Tense,” Patrick murmured.

  “I would think it would be, after the tragedy,” Genevieve said. “It seems unimaginable that so many lives were lost.”

  “My company is concerned it won’t withstand the strike and will finally be sold to Anaconda.” Patrick’s expression turned grim as he discussed the potential dissolution of his employer.

  “I had no idea,” Fiona whispered.

  “I didn’t want to worry you.” Patrick reached out a hand to grip hers but then halted the movement halfway, and opened and closed his hand a few times. “I hope it won’t come to that.”

  Colin tapped his fork on his dinner plate as he contemplated his brother. “Why should your company be in such financial difficulty?”

  “For many reasons. The first is that the main mine is out of commission for the foreseeable future. Then there is the matter of the strike.”

  “You can’t blame the men for wanting better working conditions,” Genevieve murmured.

  “I can’t, especially after spending so many hours underground in the drifts.” He shuddered and focused on her. “But I also think the miners don’t understand that they will have no option but to work for the Company if we do go under.” Patrick sighed. “Although, when I consider it, I can’t see that it makes much difference. Everyone caters to the desires of the Company, including the North
Butte Mining Company.”

  Lucas shook his head in disgust. “The days of any true competition ended years ago when Heinze left in 1906. He was the only one left to stand up to Anaconda.”

  Patrick shrugged. “Daly was dead, and Clark had moved on. Now no one is strong enough to take on the Company.”

  Colin vaguely acknowledged Lucas’s comment before focusing on his brother, Patrick, again. “Is there another reason for financial difficulties?”

  Patrick rubbed at his temple. “Yes. We have to pay a certain amount to the widows and for funeral benefits. With the number of men who died, it could be nearly half a million dollars.”

  Colin whistled. “Wow. Won’t insurance cover it?”

  Patrick shrugged. “Insurance companies have a way of finagling out of paying for what was supposedly covered. They have clauses that cover clauses. We’ve spent days going over policies until my head spins.”

  Lucas watched his oldest cousin a moment. “Why don’t you obtain work as an architect again? I know that’s what you truly love. And you’d never have to consider working as a helmet man again.”

  Patrick shrugged. “I have a family now, and we need a steady income.”

  Lucas frowned and was about to say more but saw a warning, protective glint in Colin’s eyes and nodded. “So what brought you to town, Col?”

  “Oh, I wanted to see my big brother. And I needed to warn him that Mrs. Smythe had reappeared in Missoula.”

  “That harpy?” Lucas growled. “Has she bothered Rissa?”

  Colin smiled. “Oh, Rissa is able to fight back now. It was fun to watch her go toe-to-toe with her when she dared stop by Rissa’s house. I’m more worried about Savannah. Mrs. Smythe’s stirring up trouble with Melinda.”

  Lucas paled. “Oh, no. She is Melly’s mother.”

  Patrick snorted. “Not in any way that matters. I’ve never met a woman so lacking in all maternal instincts.”

  Lucas watched Patrick curiously. “But you never saw her around Melly.”

  “No, but she treated us abysmally and took great pleasure in mistreating Clarissa. I can see no reason why she’d suddenly have turned into a maternal figure simply because she’d given birth.”

  “It does happen,” Genevieve said with a wry tone. “I’ve known women who weren’t the least bit maternal who then turn into the best mothers once they held their babies in their arms.”

  “Well, it didn’t happen with her,” Colin said. “She sent her own daughter to an orphanage rather than economize further to keep Melinda with her after Da died. She’s a vile woman.” He watched Patrick closely for a moment as though waiting to see if he would elaborate further. However, Patrick remained quiet. “She’s hell-bent on causing problems again.”

  Lucas stroked a hand down Genevieve’s back. “Let us know if you need us to do anything.”

  Colin nodded. “For now, it’s enough that you realize she’s back and stirring up trouble again. I wish you were in Missoula, but at least you aren’t that far away.”

  After seeing Fiona and Rose home after supper with the Russells, Patrick and Colin entered a bar near the house. It was like entering a cave after the bright early evening light. The scarred walnut bar was long with three men manning it. Casks of whiskey and beer stood stacked behind the men, while a mirror gleamed at the center of the space behind the bar. So as to maximize drinking space, no tables or chairs littered the bar, except for a corner for musicians, where a man sat, teasing a tune from a decrepit-looking concertina.

  Patrick approached the bar and ordered a drink, startled when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He felt Colin tense next to him as though prepared for a fight, but Patrick shook his head as he met the man’s gaze.

  “You saved men, risking your own life,” the man said. “Lost three cousins in that fire but would have lost more friends and family had it not been for the likes of you.” He slapped Patrick on the back and motioned for the bartender to pour him a drink. “His drinks are on me.”

  When Patrick protested, the man waved away his concern. “No, you didn’t have to put yourself in harm’s way to help the miners, but you did. You could have remained in that office, concerned about profits. Instead you worried about the men who fought for their lives.” Men who stood nearby grunted their approval or raised their drinks and said, “Hear, hear.”

  Patrick flushed and accepted his drink. “Thank you.” He raised his drink to the men all dressed in black as they had just come from another funeral. “Here’s to those unable to raise a glass with us today.”

  The men gave a solemn salute and lowered their heads as they considered the loss of their friends and comrades. Patrick slapped the man on the back and moved toward a rear wall, away from the mourning miners huddled near the bar.

  “Is it like that everywhere you go?” Colin asked, then frowned. “That didn’t happen last night after you got off work.”

  Patrick took a long sip of his beer and shook his head. “Some recognize me, but, for the most part, few know who I am.”

  Colin leaned against the wall, crossing his legs at the ankle as he watched the miners talk somberly among themselves. “I’m glad they have the sense not to be angry with you.”

  Patrick shrugged. “When you think about it, I’m a cog in the wheel, like they are. And, because I risked my life for them, I’m no longer seen as a stuffed shirt doing company business.”

  “I hope for everyone’s sake you’re giving up the foolish notion of working as a helmet man again in the future.” He froze as his brother glared at him. “We want you safe, Patrick.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “I know. But you don’t understand what it was like to save a man. To know that at least one woman wouldn’t be a widow. Or one mother wouldn’t lose her son.” He shook his head as his gaze became distant.

  “What was it truly like? I know you’ve never told Fiona the whole truth.” Colin took a sip of his beer, watching his brother closely.

  “And I can never tell her how horrible it was. Blinded by smoke and noxious fumes, worried I’d run out of oxygen in my tank and end up like the men on the mine floor, whose eyes were wide and mouths gaping open, like fish as they gasped for oxygen and choked to death.” He closed his eyes a moment. “At first I thought I was tripping over lumber brought down to shore up the drifts. It was only later I realized I’d trampled over limbs and bodies, men who had been dead long enough to become stiff.”

  He took a deep breath once, then twice before he met Colin’s worried gaze. “You’re concerned because you believe I’ll want to play hero and go back down again. Little could induce me to enter a cage and go back into a mineshaft. On a good day, it’s hell on earth. Some levels are cool. Mac and I were sent to Purgatory. Hot as Hades on that level, made worse with the equipment we had to carry. Must have been 120 degrees.” He shuddered, his gaze distant and voice flat. “I came across a wall, I thought it was a wall that had been constructed to close off the drift from other mines. My company has an overwhelming fear of being robbed by Anaconda.”

  He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t know. I … I realize now I should never have worked such a job. I was trained yet so inexperienced, not a miner. What did I know?” His brown eyes shone with agony as he relived a scene only he could see.

  “I know you did your best and better than most could have done. Hell, you went down again and again, even after Fiona begged you not to.” Colin’s brows furrowed as his words did little to ease his brother’s torment. “What happened, Pat?”

  “It wasn’t a wall. It was a prayer.” He sighed. “It was a patchwork of timber and stones to keep some of the poison gas out so the men behind it had a chance for survival. And I ignored it. I didn’t know better! And some of those men died because of my stupidity.”

  Colin took another sip of his beer before gripping Patrick on the shoulder with one of his strong hands. “By your own admission you were nearly blinded the moment you went down into the mine. Did the ma
n with you think it was anything more than a concrete wall?” At Patrick’s small shake of his head, Colin shook his shoulders once. “Your partner was an experienced miner. He knew what to look for, and he thought it was nothing. You did your best, Pat. There’s nothing more anyone else could have done.”

  Patrick let out a stuttering sigh. “I tell myself that, but it’s damn hard to be content with such an explanation as I sit at their funerals and watch their families mourn. As I look at their children and realize they won’t have a father.”

  “You didn’t cause the fire. You didn’t order the drifts connecting the mines to be sealed with concrete so there was no escape.” Colin clamped his jaw as he fought his growing anger at what had been done that had unintentionally made the loss of life greater. “You did everything you could to help men out of that horrible miasma.”

  “Did you know that the initial cause for the disaster was when a cable caught fire? It was being lowered into the Granite Mountain Mine to help create a fire sprinkler system. How ironic. How deadly ironic.” He met Colin’s gaze as Colin snorted in disbelief. Patrick sighed and nodded, unable to hide the guilt in his gaze. “I know I did what I could, but I wonder why I’m lucky enough to hold Rose every day and put her to bed when others have been denied that.”

  “There is much we’ll never understand. I’d give thanks you have that chance.” Colin half smiled as he watched his brother. “And I’d hope that nearly losing you would bring you and Fee closer together.”

  Chapter 8

  When Fiona and Patrick tucked Rose in for the evening, Fiona whispered to Patrick that she expected him in their bed while Colin visited and that she would come find Patrick if he spent another night on the couch. So when he entered the room he would share with Fiona for the next few nights, he sighed at her, curled on her side with the blankets wrapped snugly around her.