Genevieve tsked. “I think he was a grave disappointment. Raving on about President Wilson betraying his pacifist promise. Then I almost fell over when he said the Constitution was simply a piece of paper and could be torn up like any other scrap of paper. How can he have such little respect for the laws that govern this land and that guarantee he can speak as he does with impunity?”
Lucas chuckled. “He seemed more interested in inciting the crowd and furthering his own rhetorical firebrand message than actually having any purposeful agenda for the miners. They’ll rue the day they ever invited him to speak to the miners. This is the sort of thing the Company and its papers will love.”
“I agree. He couldn’t have alienated more people unless he set fire to half the town.” She let out a huff of air. “What could the miners be thinking, welcoming him here when they have such little bargaining power with the Company?”
“Many of the miners are sympathetic to the IWW,” Lucas murmured. “Now that the electricians have settled with the Company, the miners are truly on their own.”
“Which prevents them from gaining the support of the rest of the community. They must know that the radical ramblings of a man like Little does nothing to further their cause.”
Lucas kissed her head. “I’m relieved you were offended by him. I feared you’d think him a kindred spirit. Or his cause anyway.”
Genevieve clasped her husband’s hand. “I might believe in progressive causes, Lucas, but that doesn’t mean I desire to overturn everything I know or to radically change the world I live in. I simply want the world I know to be more just.”
Lucas squeezed her hand in return. “Unfortunately even that sentiment is extreme to many. Besides, take heart that the Keating-Owen Act passed last year.”
She was silent a moment as though considering the bill passed by Congress in 1916. “It’s a good bill,” she murmured.
“Yes, it is. Prohibiting the purchase of any interstate product produced by a child under the age of fourteen and limiting working hours to eight a day for those sixteen and under is a great improvement.”
She nestled into his embrace. “Thank you for supporting me last year when I was lost in letter-writing to various members of congress.” She kissed his neck when he chuckled. “I worry about those who will circumvent it.”
“There are always those who will do what they can for a profit,” Lucas said. “Too often it’s at the expense of the weakest or poorest among us.”
Genevieve rushed home a few evenings later after spending the afternoon with Fiona and Rose. She burst into the house, pausing at the smell of roasted chicken and potatoes. “Lucas?” she called as she unpinned her hat and took off her gloves. “Who made dinner?”
Lucas played in the music room on one of his pianos, and she frowned as the music was more melancholic than usual. Since she’d informed him of her pregnancy, his music had been lighthearted and whimsical. She jolted when his fingers slammed onto the piano keys in a fit of pique.
“Lucas?” she whispered, approaching him on silent feet and stroking a hand down his back. “Are you all right?”
He relaxed at her touch. “Vivie.” He spun, tossing his legs over the piano bench and pulling her between them. “I’ve missed you.” He gave her a quick kiss. “You look lovelier every day, Vivie. As for dinner, I hired a cook yesterday, and I wanted to surprise you today with a cooked meal.”
She stared at him, momentarily dumbstruck. “You hired a cook? Why? Don’t you like my cooking?”
His eyes widened in panic as he watched her. “Oh, no, I mean, I love your cooking.” He stammered, gripping her hand. “I merely wanted to give you the freedom to pursue what you want without feeling as though you had to race home every day to prepare a meal or to go to the grocers.”
She squinted at him and was silent a moment. “There’s more you aren’t telling me.”
He flushed and gave her a chagrined smile. “Her mother is a widow from the Spec. She hasn’t received any sort of compensation from the North Butte Mining Company yet and has seven children to feed.” He held up his hand. “And before you start your interrogation, she’s the oldest at seventeen.”
Genevieve smiled before she kissed him on his cheek. “You should have seen your panic when you thought I was mad at you for not liking my cooking.”
He laughed. “A husband never wants to be in the bad graces of his wife.” He raised her hand and kissed it. “You really don’t mind?”
“I wish I’d had a chance to meet her before you hired her, but I don’t mind having a cook. I enjoy being in the kitchen but not every day.” She looked around their comfortable home. “Besides, I’d like to support the miners in a small way.”
Lucas nodded and tugged her to the settee. “There’s something else, Vivie.”
She froze as he became even more serious. “You’re leaving to tour.”
He shook his head in confusion. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t leave you now, when you’re with child. In fact, I don’t know when I’ll tour again.”
Although she caressed his head and shoulders, she tensed. “Are you having second thoughts?”
He furrowed his brows as he tilted his head to meet her worried gaze. “Second thoughts?” he frowned.
“The sad music,” she whispered. At his nod and shrug, she murmured, “Are you upset about the baby?”
“Oh, Vivie, you must learn not to read too much into my moods.” He pulled her close to him. “I’m ecstatic we are to be parents.” He met her shadowed gaze. “Petrified too, if I’m honest.” He leaned forward and kissed her still-flat belly. “No, that’s not what’s put me in a mood to play such music.”
He retrieved the evening newspaper from a small table next to the settee. “I need you to promise me that you won’t go to any more labor meetings.” When she glared at him mutinously, he held up a palm. “At least not without me. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you or the baby.”
“Lucas, what happened?” she whispered.
“Frank Little was murdered last night.” He raised her hand and kissed it as she paled. “He was pulled from his boarding house at 3:00 a.m. and forced into a car. They … did horrible things to him. They found him, strung up, with a warning pinned to his clothes.”
She breathed heavily as she massaged at her temple with her free hand. “But I—we—just saw him speak a few days ago. He was fine.” She raised horrified eyes to her husband. “Who would do such a thing?”
“It’s unknown who killed him, although it’s being reported that patriots are responsible for ridding the town and country of a traitor.”
“What did the note say?”
“It’s somewhat cryptic. On top of the note, it says ‘Others Take Notice! First and Last Warning!’” He looked at the front page of the paper. “Then some gibberish appears. The numbers 3-7-77 and then the letters L-D-C-S-S-W-T, with the L circled.”
Genevieve looked at her husband and shook her head. “Haven’t you studied any Montana history since you arrived? Those numbers were the hallmark of the Vigilantes.”
“What do the letters mean?” Lucas asked with a challenging lift of one eyebrow. At her shake of her head, he kissed her cheek. “The newspapermen speculate that it’s a warning to others who these Vigilantes are targeting. Especially labor organizers. And the circled L means that the job was accomplished with regard to Little.”
She plucked the paper from his hands and quickly thrust it on the side table. “I don’t care to read how they tormented him before he died. What have we come to that this is how we treat those who dissent with our way of thinking?”
Lucas sighed. “He did more than dissent, Vivie. He promoted the overthrow of capitalism and railed against everyone in power, including President Wilson. The sad fact is that we are at war, and we need copper for our munitions and communications. One way or another, the mines will be functional again.”
She leaned into his shoulder. “I understand what you say, Lucas, but I fe
ar the Company will never listen to the miners or consider their concerns as valid. Leaders like that horrid Samuel Sanders don’t have to worry about their safety every day when they go to work, neither is their pay cut at the whim of the Company.”
He shook his head. “It isn’t fair, Vivie. It isn’t right. But things are bound to get worse in Butte before they improve. I don’t want you caught up in the struggle.” He kissed her palm. “We’ll do what we can to support those around us, but we can’t openly defy the Company. Not now when we have so much to lose.”
She sat in quiet contemplation for a few moments. “I agree with your concern about my safety and remaining healthy for the baby. However, I want to attend Frank Little’s funeral. I want to be a witness to the horrible tragedy that occurred and in some way show that these sorts of actions are never condoned.”
Lucas nodded. “As long as I may attend next to you.”
Chapter 12
Missoula, Montana, August 1917
Araminta entered Savannah’s kitchen, piles of dishes and pots strewn on the countertops. She picked up a dishcloth and slapped it on a chair a few times before she stormed from the room and up the stairs. She knocked on Melinda’s door and glared at it when no response came. She pushed it open, frowning at the tornado that appeared to have hit Melinda’s previously pristine room.
After writing a short note for Savannah, Araminta headed downtown. When she arrived at Gabriel and Jeremy’s workshop, she took a deep breath before entering. Ronan’s space was unoccupied, and Jeremy worked in the back by himself. “Hello, Jeremy. Where is Gabriel?”
Jeremy turned to face her, frowning with confusion when he saw her. “Minta, …. wonderful to see you.” He waved at Gabriel’s empty space. “Gabe went with Ronan to see the doctor.”
She shifted from foot to foot, catching herself a moment before she tumbled to the ground as she leaned too heavily on her weak leg. “I need to speak with you.” At Jeremy’s nod, she moved to an unvarnished bench and sat down. He leaned against his workbench and crossed his arms as he waited for her to begin.
“I’m worried about Melly.” She saw pain and regret flash in his eyes. “She isn’t doing any of her chores, and her room is a mess. She speaks with insolence to me when I ask her to help me.” She took a deep breath. “I know I am little better than a maid, but she was raised to treat those around her with respect.”
“How long has this been going on?” Jeremy asked.
“Her room has been a mess for a little over a month. She stopped her chores around then too.”
“And her insolence?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow, his arms tense across his chest.
“The same amount of time, I guess.” Araminta watched Jeremy and shook her head. “I know I have no right to criticize your daughter. I … I …” She broke off as she lowered her gaze. She jumped when he slammed his hand on his workbench.
“I’m very displeased, Minta,” Jeremy growled.
“I’m sorry, sir. I never meant …” She broke off her words when he glared at her to be silent.
“Why did you wait, Minta? Why wait a month?” He looked at her as she watched him with dazed confusion. “Why not tell me the instant she treated you without respect?”
“I thought it was a passing phase,” she whispered.
“Did you believe I’d countenance my daughter treating you without courtesy?” He shook his head, his gaze filled with disbelief and displeasure. “I’m disappointed, Minta. How can you believe, after all this time, that you are little better than a maid? You are a member of our family. How can you not know that?”
He approached her and sat across from her on a newly finished chair. “You are as a cousin to us. And we cherish you.” His jaw tightened when tears fill her eyes. “I wish you’d told me the moment you took over her chores. Why cover for her?”
Araminta closed her eyes for a moment as a tear trickled out. “She told me that I had no right to complain because my parents wanted me less than hers wanted her.” At Jeremy’s incredulous stare, she whispered, “She said we were both orphanage brats, but at least she hadn’t spent her entire childhood there, unloved and unwanted.”
The tic in Jeremy’s jaw was visible as he reached forward and gripped her hand. “I can only imagine the pain her words caused you. I hope you know they aren’t true.”
Araminta sniffled. “But they are. My parents didn’t want me.”
Jeremy smiled at her with tenderness and compassion. “You don’t know that. You’ll never know what causes a person, a mother or a father, to give up a beloved child. Very few are as heartless and cruel as Mrs. Smythe. Most would do anything for their child.” He watched Araminta closely. “Including giving them to the care of an orphanage so that they are clothed, educated and fed.” He frowned. “I’m sorry for Melinda’s cruel words.”
Araminta nodded, unable to speak.
“From now on you are not to do any of her chores. I want to know exactly the cruel things she says the moment she says them. And I will speak with Savannah so she understands what has been going on. This is unacceptable, and we will right this wrong.”
Araminta swallowed. “Melly is unsure of her place in the world.”
Jeremy nodded. “I know. I wanted to provide a place for her to feel safe and cherished, and instead she doubts who she is and those who love her.”
Araminta watched him with envy. “She’s fortunate to have a man like you care for her as a father.”
He half chuckled. “I’ll remind her of that.”
Savannah sat in Jeremy’s study in stunned silence after what he’d told her. She grimaced and shook her head. “And to think I was upset with Araminta. I thought she’d created the mess in the kitchen.”
The front door opened, and Jeremy leaped from his seat behind his desk. “Melinda.” His voice boomed through the room and into the front hall. He looked up the front hall steps and called to her again. “Come here. Now.” He waited as she sighed and rolled her eyes. After she clomped down the stairs, he closed the door behind them.
“I don’t see why you closed the door. We’re the only ones here.” She plopped into the other seat beside Savannah and tapped her fingers on the armrest.
“Why have you been cruel to Araminta?” Jeremy asked without preamble.
She raised startled eyes to her father. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Taunting her with her time in the orphanage. Gloating about the fact that you were wanted more than she was.” His jaw tightened as he beheld her. “How could you be so cruel?”
“It’s not as though anything I said was a lie,” she muttered. At her mother’s horrified gasp, she spun to glare at her. “We all think it.”
“What is the matter with you?” Savannah whispered. “You’ve always treated Araminta with respect, as though she were a member of our family.”
“But that’s just the point. She isn’t a member of our family. And she never will be.” Melinda rose. “If that’s all?” she asked with another roll of her eyes. She jumped when her father slammed his fist to his desk.
“No, that isn’t all. You’ve been lax in your chores, and you’ve been wandering around Missoula unchaperoned after school. What have you been doing?”
“Why should you care? It’s not as though you’re my father!” Her eyes went huge the minute she said the words. She projected a false bravado, but she could not hide her body’s slight trembling nor a faint flush on her cheeks.
“I’m not your father? I’m not your father?” Jeremy asked in a low, anguish-tinged voice. “Who held you when you had croup and had trouble breathing? Who cleaned your skinned knee when you fell, trying to keep up with your uncle Colin’s antics? Who read you bedtime stories every night for a year to keep away your fear of monsters under your bed?”
Melinda ducked her head and shook it, refusing to answer.
“And Savannah. Are you saying she isn’t your mother? The woman who taught you to cook, taught you about love and loyal
ty and compassion. Encouraged you to laugh and embrace life’s joys.” He shook his head. “You are our daughter, Melinda. You’ve been ours from the very beginning, and we love you.”
She raised mutinous eyes to meet his irate gaze.
“And I couldn’t be more disappointed in you. Go to your room and clean it. I expect it to be tidy before supper, or you will have nothing to eat.” He nodded to the door. He heard her quiet sob as she left the room. He collapsed into the chair behind his desk.
He scrubbed at his face and heaved out a sigh. “Forgive me for being so harsh.” When Savannah didn’t respond, he looked at her, frowning at the tears coursing down her cheeks. “My love,” he murmured.
“My aunt Betsy said that sometimes tough love is needed. What you served Melly was just that. And she needed it. Desperately.” She scrubbed at her face with her handkerchief. “That doesn’t make it any easier to watch.”
“It hurts that she doesn’t understand how much we love her,” Jeremy whispered. “I’d do anything for her.”
Savannah nodded. “I know. She’s confused and lost. Just as Mrs. Smythe wanted.”
Jeremy growled. “I hate that woman. I know I shouldn’t allow myself to feel any emotion toward her, but I do. I hate what she’s accomplished.”
Savannah’s smile was tremulous but hopeful. “I hate what that woman is attempting. I’m uncertain she’s accomplished her goal—or ever will—because Melly is strong and smart … maybe even stronger and smarter than we give her credit for.”
Clarissa sat with Savannah in her kitchen, sharing a cup of iced tea. “What’s bothering you, Sav?” Clarissa took a sip of her cool drink, her assessing gaze on her cousin. “You’ve been out of sorts for days.”
Resilient Love: Banished Saga, Book 7 Page 16