Abiding Love: Banished Saga, Book Eight

by Flightner, Ramona

  Colin nodded. “And I understand that you must publish what won’t cause you to sit in front of that committee.” He slapped Herman on the shoulder in a friendly manner and then pushed him to the side. “Thanks,” he called over his shoulder as he continued to walk toward Clarissa’s house.

  * * *

  Colin opened the door for Araminta and followed her inside Clarissa’s home. They had been staying here since Gabriel had left, which had the unexpected benefit of protecting Araminta’s reputation in town. Rather than be seen frequenting his house, she was at his sister’s. Due to Clarissa’s husband’s absence, it was not out of the ordinary for Colin to stay with Clarissa to lend his aid. Although the townsfolk most likely knew that his relationship with Araminta deepened each day, none other than the Bouchards and Vaughans made disparaging comments.

  Clarissa looked up from the dining room table where she wrote a letter. She frowned when she saw them. “I fear it did not go as well as you had hoped.” She set down her pen and waited for them to join her in the well-lit room. The older children were at school, and Little Colin played with trains on the floor in the play area Gabriel had constructed for him.

  Colin sat, smiling his thanks as Araminta emerged from the kitchen with cups of coffee for them all. “I was not charged with sedition, although they want it noted that I am a money slacker.” He nodded ruefully as Clarissa hissed in a breath. “I think they hope it will prevent the townsfolk from coming to the smithy.”

  She glowered. “We won’t allow this to ruin you, Colin. You aren’t a slacker.”

  He sat, staring dazedly into space. “They didn’t care that I’d bought $500 in Liberty Bonds. Nothing I could have said would have been enough for them. I would always have been seen as a slacker.”

  “Damn them,” Clarissa muttered and then flushed as she rarely swore. “I hate that they are targeting you simply because you love Araminta.”

  Colin shook his head. “It’s not just that.” He gripped Araminta’s hand and squeezed it. “I think Mr. Caine also acted because he saw an opportunity to take my blacksmith business. I discovered through the help of my loyal men that he had planted Mr. Booker in my shop in an attempt to discredit me and spy on me. Mr. Caine’s plan backfired, though. He hadn’t expected so many in attendance who supported me.”

  “You are an upstanding member of this city,” Araminta said.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t matter when such laws are on the books. Thank God I’d read about Mr. Wheeler’s testimony last spring when he was called in front of the COD and could use Mr. Wheeler’s reluctance to answer their questions as part of my defense.” Colin took a sip of coffee and then relaxed into his chair. “I hate to think what it would have been like had public sentiment not been in my favor.”

  “We have money saved, Col. You won’t lose your shop.” Clarissa shared an intense look with her brother, and he nodded.

  “I know. And, if the worst happened, I think I could swallow my pride enough to wire Aidan. I know he would help me.” He focused on his sister as though attempting to forget the morning’s activity. “Who are you writing, Rissa?”

  She beamed at him. “Oh, I’ve had the most wondrous letter!” She held it up and then read from it.

  My dearest Clarissa, Colin, Araminta and children,

  I am finally writing you after the birth of my darling son, Breandan Martin McLeod. We wanted to remember Jeremy’s grandfather and my father, and it seemed the perfect name for our son once we met him. I can’t wait for you to meet him too! I know all babies are beautiful, but I think he might be the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. When the nurse placed him in my arms, it felt as though a fissure in my heart healed. I still have others that will never heal, but at least one has.

  Jeremy is beside himself with joy, although he was terribly worried when I had a slight fever after the surgery. I fear they were overworried and sent a telegram to Gabriel. I have heard that he is en route to Boston, and I will be delighted to see him and have him hold his nephew. However, I am sorry to have left you without his company, dearest Clarissa. I know how much I hate my time without Jeremy.

  I am uncertain when Jeremy, Breandan and I will return home. I need to have time to spend at Melinda’s grave. I cannot believe she is gone. So many times during the day I call for her or turn because I think I hear her voice. I reach for her hand, delighted to tell her something or giggle with her, only to be reminded that she is no longer with me.

  How can my heart be so full of love for Breandan and yet turned to ashes at the loss of Melinda? I fear you will find me a mixed-up muddle when you see me again, dearest cousins.

  Much love,

  Savannah

  Clarissa swiped at her cheeks and saw Colin wiping at his eyes as Araminta leaned into him, hiding her face in his shoulder. “I … I’m so glad that Gabriel will arrive for something joyous. There has been enough grief.”

  Colin nodded and let out a deep breath. “Yes. They have enough sorrow to deal with without having to worry about Savannah.”

  Araminta cleared her throat and then raised her head off Colin’s shoulder. “Have you had any word from Gabriel?”

  Clarissa nodded. “He was marooned for two days in Buffalo after a train derailment, but he hopes to arrive in Boston soon. He sent a quick telegram, as I had thought he’d be in Boston by now.”

  Colin smiled at his sister as he held the woman he loved in his arms. “We should celebrate tonight with the children. Savannah and her babe are well, and I am not going to jail for sedition.”

  Clarissa beamed at him and Araminta. “Yes, we have something to celebrate.”

  Araminta giggled. “I’ll bake the cake.”

  Chapter 18

  Boston, October 1918

  Ten days after the birth of their son, sunlight streamed into the room Jeremy and Savannah shared at Aidan and Delia’s house. A bassinette with a fresh blanket and rattle sat in one corner, while a rocking chair was in another.

  Jeremy knelt on the floor, holding Savannah’s hand. He whispered to her about his dreams for them, what he hoped they’d do once they returned to Montana, about how excited Clarissa would be to see her again. He spoke until his voice was raw, and then he held her hand to his mouth as it moved silently with a litany of prayers.

  “Jeremy,” Lucas whispered as he eased inside. “You have to let her go.” Lucas rubbed at his face, his palms scratching against his unshaven cheeks. His shirt was misbuttoned; he’d lost his waistcoat hours ago, and he couldn’t remember where he’d misplaced his jacket. His brown eyes were a fathomless pool of grief.

  “She’s going to wake up, Lucas. You’ll see.” Jeremy squeezed her hand in encouragement. He growled when Lucas grabbed the hand that held Savannah’s and tugged, severing his connection with her.

  “She’s gone, Jeremy,” Lucas said, his voice cracking. “You have to—” His head jerked backward as Jeremy slapped him and then launched himself at him. Lucas tumbled to the floor with Jeremy on top, pummeling him. He head-butted Jeremy, earning a moment’s reprieve from the beating, and pushed Jeremy off him.

  “What in God’s name?” Aidan demanded on a roar as he burst into the room. He saw the toppled chairs, the smashed ceramics on the carpet and his devastated nephew on the floor. Now that the instinct to fight had left, Jeremy laid curled on the floor, deep sobs bursting forth. Lucas patted him on the back but nodded when Aidan motioned for him to leave.

  Aidan knelt beside Jeremy, waiting until the worst of his sobs eased. “Come, Jeremy,” he murmured, waiting until he heaved himself into a sitting position before pulling his nephew into his arms. He held his nephew as he continued to shudder.

  “I know you believe you have some words of wisdom,” Jeremy gasped out, “but they don’t exist. Not for me.”

  Aidan’s grip on Jeremy’s back tightened a moment. “Don’t give up on this life, Jeremy. It’s the only thing I’d ask of you right now. Please.” He eased his hold on Jeremy as his nephew pushed away fro
m him and attempted to rise.

  Jeremy faltered and ended on his knees. “There is nothing left for me.” He stared dazedly into space, his gaze glassy with grief. “No wife. My Melly …” He swallowed a sob as he swayed in place, tears pouring down his cheeks. He dropped to sit on the floor again with a stupefied expression, silent tremors racking his body. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  Aidan cupped Jeremy’s head with his fingers at the back of his nape. “You don’t have to know right now. No one expects you to.”

  The door burst open, and Gabriel and Richard entered. “Uncle? What’s happened?” Gabriel asked as he looked around the room. His gaze moved from Savannah’s lifeless form on the bed to his brother on the ground, shaking and swaying, and Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry I was too late.” He knelt on the floor before Jeremy. “Jer, we’re all here. You’re not alone.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Gabe. I am alone. Just as I will be forever.”

  Gabriel joined his brother on the floor, moving to sit beside him. He nodded as his uncle rose and noted when Richard moved to sit on the other side of Jeremy. “You have your son, Jer. And you have us. We’re here with you. We’ll not leave you.”

  “You can’t promise that, Gabe. No one can,” Jeremy said in a deadened voice. “My Savannah, with so much to live for.” He shook his head, pursing his lips as he fought his emotion. “Our baby, still ill with the influenza. I can’t bear it if he dies too.”

  “Don’t give up hope for him, Jer,” Richard pleaded.

  Jeremy hit the wall behind him with his fist a few times as another sob burst forth. “How could she have an easy birth and then die from the influenza?” He laid his head on his knees and hid his face.

  Gabriel slung an arm over his brother’s shuddering back and pulled him close. “I don’t know, Jer. It makes no sense. And it sure as hell isn’t fair.” He ignored the tears tracking down his own cheeks.

  Richard leaned in on the other side. Together the two older McLeod brothers tried to form a cocoon around their distraught brother. “We will help you through this, Jer.”

  “I wish I could die too, and then it would all be over,” he whispered.

  Gabriel growled and moved with sudden speed. He let go of Jeremy and knelt in front of him again, holding his brother’s head between his hands. Gabriel’s eyes were lit with a desperate anger as he looked into his brother’s eyes that seemed to hold an eternity of grief. “Dammit, Jer. You will not die. You will survive this.” He waited for some kind of acknowledgment from his brother. “You … You can’t die.”

  Jeremy’s head was listless on his neck, and it fell to one side after Gabriel eased his grip on it. “Nothing matters. Not now.”

  “You matter,” Gabriel said.

  “Your son matters,” Richard snapped. “He needs you.”

  “I can’t … I can’t watch another die.” He met their gazes with an almost irrational desperation. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

  Gabriel gripped his youngest brother’s shoulder, and Richard nodded. “Then we will be there in your stead. He will never doubt he is loved,” Gabriel said. “And, when he is better, he will know you, Jer. He will know his father and the love you had for his mother.”

  Jeremy fell forward into his brothers’ arms as another sob burst forth, taking what comfort he could from the men who had always supported him.

  * * *

  Sophronia wore black crepe as she sat on the settee in her rear study. When her sitting room door creaked open, she thumped her cane down with disapproval. “I demanded not to be disturbed today,” she barked. She turned to find Lucas, bruised and mourning, standing in the doorway. “Oh, my boy. Come in.” She pushed herself to her feet, holding him to her a moment. “How are you?”

  She frowned as he swayed from side to side in front of her, his gaze distant. She pushed him into a chair and waited for him to speak.

  “I thought nothing could take away my desire to compose. To perform. To see some reason to find beauty and to create music,” he whispered. He raised dazed eyes to Sophie. “How could this have happened?”

  Sophie gripped his hand. “Too often there is no reason for tragedy.” She blinked rapidly although tears fell. “How is Jeremy?”

  “I fear I’m soon to lose a brother too,” Lucas rasped. He lowered his head and sobbed. He held a hand to his eyes as he attempted to control his emotion. “Forgive me.” He took a stuttering breath and battled to control his grief.

  After a moment’s silence, only broken by the chiming of a hall clock, he burst out, “How can they both be dead?” He glared at Sophie with a deep anger. He rose, pacing to the mantel.

  Sophie shook her head. “It is cruel of fate.” She rubbed at her cheeks. “That one as old as I should live and the young such as Melly die. That Savannah …” Her voice cracked.

  Lucas shot out a hand and gripped Sophronia’s. “Don’t for one minute think we wouldn’t miss you.” Lucas shook his head at the thought of losing such a stalwart of support.

  She smiled, but sorrow tinged her expression. “I know I spout my nonsense about wanting to live to vote, but I’d rather have had Melinda vote. Or Savannah.” She blinked as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “There should never have been a need to choose. To wish it were someone else,” Lucas said as he rubbed at his head. “Jeremy is inconsolable. I think he forgets he still has a son.”

  “He fears to hope,” Sophie said and met Lucas’s gaze. “For, if he hoped for Breandan’s improvement, and then he died too, I fear it would be more than he could bear.”

  “He shouldn’t already act as though he’s lost him,” Lucas muttered. “The poor baby is struggling.”

  “Who cares for him?” Sophronia asked.

  “Oh, Aidan is terrifyingly efficient. He has maids and doctors and nurses who are helping, but it doesn’t replace the love of a parent.” He rubbed at his chest.

  “You worry,” she murmured, “for your own wife and child.”

  “How could I not? I’ve heard reports it is heading west. That it has already arrived in Montana.” He scrubbed at his eyes. “I’ve written Vivie, begging her to remain at home. To not go out in public. To avoid any public gatherings. I think she fears I’m a madman who wants to keep her locked away.”

  Sophronia frowned. “You should have sent her a clipping of what was occurring in Boston. Then she would understand.”

  He shook his head and sighed. “I had one of my rambling fits in a letter, and I didn’t have the sense to do that.” For a moment, he shared a chagrined smile with Sophie before he sobered. “I … I don’t know what to do for Jeremy.” He collapsed onto his chair and looked at Sophronia plaintively.

  “Love his child as he is unable to at this moment. Ensure that he is well taken care of. You know Aidan is doing all he can, but I’ve found children need to be held. To be touched. Sometimes those we hire aren’t as affectionate as children need them to be.”

  “As a doting uncle can be,” he whispered. He saw her smile at his statement. “Thank you, Sophie. For everything you did for Savannah. For giving her a place of refuge all those years ago. For encouraging her to be brave. To live a life free of Jonas.” His eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “She lived a wonderful life, with a man she loved, because you supported her and believed in her when she didn’t believe in herself.”

  * * *

  Rowena slipped her key into the lock of a house on Marlborough Street. It was a block from the Public Gardens and only five from Aidan and Delia’s. She wandered the downstairs rooms, empty of furnishings, and envisioned what she wanted to do with the space. A formal living room with a bowed window was at the front of the house. Pocket doors separated it from the dining room but also allowed for a larger living room if desired. A private sitting room was at the back of the first floor, with wall-to-ceiling windows. The kitchen and servants’ quarters were downstairs, with a dumb waiter to bring the food upstairs. There were three more stories, with three r
ooms on each floor. She twirled around and let out a giggle as she tripped and toppled to the floor.

  A soft knock on the door caused her heart rate to speed up, and she rose. She opened the door a crack and then flung it open when she saw Perry standing on the steps. “Come inside,” she said, grabbing his arm.

  “Ro, what are we doing in an empty house?” He stood rooted in place in the entryway.

  “I want you to look at this house with me.” She tugged on his hand, pulling him into the well-lit living area. “What do you think?”

  “It’s lovely but an unnecessary extravagance.” He frowned as her joy dimmed. “What is this, Ro?”

  She wrung her hands together. “I want us to have our own home. I thought this could be ours.”

  He shook his head and looked at her. “This is big enough for a family of ten. We don’t need something like this.” He frowned as the rosy bloom on her cheeks faded. After a moment, he paled. “You already bought it, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “I wanted to surprise you.” A tear leaked out at the admission. “I had hoped you’d be as excited as I am.”

  He took a quick step toward her and held her face between his large palms. “I want a home with you.” He looked around dazedly at the large space. “But I envisioned a small place with two or three rooms and a piano crammed in a corner and a desk for you to write on in another.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have talked with you.”

  He shook his head and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m afraid how much this will cost.”

  “I have more money than I know what to do with,” she said in his ear. “My mother left me a sizeable inheritance, and it has tripled since I gained control of it. I never told you, but I’m a bit of an heiress.”