Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four (46 page)

“You were in time,” Araminta soothed. “He was waiting for you.”

“I am so thankful for that. I don’t know what I’ll do without him,” Clarissa whispered, swiping at her tears. “He was …”

“An ornery old goat who loved to meddle,” Gabriel said with deep affection in his voice. “Somehow he always said or did the right thing to help those he cared about.”

“I didn’t know him long, but he was very supportive,” Zylphia said.

“I’ll miss how he spoke. Melly loved figuring out his words and then using them when she talked,” Savannah said. She tapped Zee on a knee. “Come. We should head home for the night.”

Araminta rose with them, and the three women left after exchanging long hugs with Clarissa. She stood, swaying in place for a moment, lost in her memories. She started when Gabriel touched her shoulder before leaning into his chest. He laid his cheek on her head, his hands lazily tracing her back.

“Thank you for the telegram.”

“I imagine it terrified you,” Gabriel murmured. “You’ve always hated them. Ever since you received the one about your father’s death.”

“It did. But I couldn’t have missed being here,” Clarissa whispered, leaning farther into him.

His arms tightened around her, accepting her sorrow. “Cry, love,” he urged. He held her through her tears, eventually leading her upstairs, to their daughter’s bedroom. He laid her on the small bed and rested with her until she fell into a deep slumber. When she was asleep, he eased away from her and tiptoed to Billy’s room.

He sat with Mr. Pickens through the long night. “I haven’t kept vigil since my good friend Liam died in Butte. I’d hoped not to need to do so for some time again.” He swiped away a tear and pulled out his handkerchief to rub at his nose.

“I’ll miss you, Old Man. You had a way of helping me see the truth, even when I didn’t want to. You eased my Clarissa’s torment, more times than I can count.” He stared at the lifeless form on his son’s bed, unable to quell the tears that poured from his eyes.

“You were faithful, honest and knew what was important in life. Family. Friends. Forging memories together. Thank you for enriching our lives,” Gabriel whispered.

He continued to speak, on and off, for the rest of the night. He recalled his wedding night, when A.J. had chivareed him with a group of local men. Gabe recounted the stories he’d heard, of A.J.’s travels to Montana from St. Louis, of the night he’d met Mark Twain, of the time he’d been trapped in a tree by an irate moose. Gabe remembered A.J.’s deep and abiding love for his wife, Bessie.

Finally the room lightened with the dawning of a new day. He yawned, groaning with appreciation as Clarissa crept in and massaged his shoulders.

“Have you been here all night?” she whispered.

“Yes. I thought someone should keep vigil until dawn,” Gabriel said. He raised a hand, gripping hers loosely placed on his shoulder.

“Thank you, darling,” Clarissa whispered, wrapping her arms around his chest and hugging him from behind.

Jeremy eased into the room, carrying cups of coffee. “I made some downstairs before coming up,” he said, handing one to each of them. “I know you prefer tea, but I think a day like today calls for coffee.” He looked to the bed, closing his eyes for a moment as though in prayer. “I’ll miss him,” he whispered.

He pushed on Gabriel’s shoulder, urging him to rise. “You’ve kept vigil all night. You’ll need to sleep some, wash up. I’ll remain.”

“Thanks, Jer,” Gabriel said as he rose.

Jeremy sat, his hands folded in front of him as his gaze became distant, filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry for what you must do. Your children will be devastated. Melly was heartbroken this morning.”

Gabriel gripped his brother’s shoulder a moment before leaving the room.

* * *

C
larissa and Gabriel
walked toward the new library, which had been funded by Mr. Andrew Carnegie. The two-story building sat a block off Broadway. Pillars framed the front door, while redbrick gleamed in the sunlight.

“I would think a day like today should be gray and gloomy,” Clarissa muttered.

Gabriel grunted his agreement, patting her hand looped through his elbow. He opened the door for her, and she entered, moving to the right to the main part of the library. The assistance desk was there, and Hester sat behind it. As it was early in the day, few patrons had arrived.

“Hester,” Clarissa said in a low voice. “I … You might want to close the library today.”

Hester looked up from a book she was reading and frowned. “The library only closes on Sundays, holidays or when natural disaster strikes.”

“Yes, I know, but something’s happened.” Clarissa fought tears. “Mr. A.J. has died.”

Hester stilled, her book falling closed as her body froze. “You must be mistaken. I saw him, not a few days ago, and he was fine.”

“He put on a good show, ma’am, but he was ailing,” Gabriel said. “I finally realized how sick he was yesterday and had him move to my house. He passed last night.”

A strangled noise, like a stifled sob, sounded in her throat, and she turned away. “I beg your pardon.”

Clarissa moved toward her, uncertain how to reach her as she sat behind a large wooden desk, and she didn’t know how it opened. Gabriel grunted, hefting her and sliding her across the top so that she could slither to the ground on Hester’s side of the desk. “Hester.” Clarissa placed her hand on Hester’s trembling shoulder.

She turned to Clarissa with tears coursing down her cheeks. “He was my only friend here.”

“That’s not true,” Clarissa said as she pulled Hester into her arms. Clarissa shared a worried glance with Gabriel as Hester sobbed in her arms. He moved to the library door and flipped the sign to Closed. He turned the key in the lock so that bold patrons wouldn’t be able to barge in unwelcomed.

“I was only invited to your gatherings because he asked me,” she stuttered. “I’m sorry. He’s died, and all I’m doing is thinking about myself.”

“We’ll still be your friends, Hester,” Clarissa soothed. “The wake will be tonight and then the burial tomorrow. We wanted you to know to be able to attend.”

“Thank you,” she said as she nodded toward her and Gabriel. “I know you didn’t have to come to tell me. You could have let me read it in the evening newspaper.”

“You were his friend,” Clarissa whispered. She gripped Hester’s shoulder before she moved to climb over the desk again.

Hester saw Clarissa’s intentions and unhooked a hidden latch, lifting the top of the desk so it swung open, allowing Clarissa to walk out.

“We’ll see you tonight, Hester,” Gabriel said. Clarissa slipped her arm through his as they departed.

* * *

C
larissa sat
in a sort of dazed stupor in the living room as the wake occurred around her. Mr. Pickens was in a casket in the dining room. The food disappeared in the kitchen as fast as it was brought by concerned neighbors and friends. Kegs were in the backyard, and mourners traipsed through her house in incessant waves. Everyone in Missoula knew old A.J. and wanted to come and pay their respects.

Clarissa lifted her head at the sound of a fiddle, its tune mournful. Plaintive. She glanced around. She only knew one person who could play like that. “Seb,” she whispered. She rose, looking for him. She pushed her way past mourners, nodding her thanks as those she passed expressed their condolences. She made it to the backyard to find Sebastian, standing to one side playing the fiddle.

She glanced around. “Amelia!”

Amelia turned at Clarissa’s yell. She rushed toward Clarissa, and they rocked to and fro as they embraced.

“I had no idea you were coming,” Clarissa whispered, swiping away tears as they stood apart.

“Gabriel sent us a telegram. When I showed it to Sebastian, he insisted we travel here for it. Mr. A.J. was always very good to us.” Her eyes filled. “I’ll miss him.”

Clarissa gripped her arm, and they walked arm in arm to the rear part of the garden. Sebastian took a break from playing, and he enfolded Clarissa in his arms. “Rissa, I’m so sorry,” he whispered before backing away and reaching for Amelia.

“Thank you for traveling all this way.”

“We needed to be here,” Sebastian said.

“Of course you’ll stay with us.”

“Thank you,” Amelia said with a relieved smile.

“The children might be on pallets on the floor, but there’s plenty of room.” Clarissa smiled at Gabriel as he joined the group. “Seb, Amelia and the children are staying with us tonight.”

“Wonderful,” he said, raising her hand to kiss her knuckles. “I heard the fiddle and knew it had to be you.” He sobered as he looked at Amelia and Sebastian. “The more family we have around us, the more we’ll be able to bear what comes.” He squeezed Clarissa’s arm before moving away to speak with those who’d come to pay their respects.

* * *

G
abriel stood next to Colin
, Sebastian and Jeremy. They rose as one, moving toward the casket and hefted it onto their shoulders to walk down the aisle of the church and to the nearby graveyard. Clarissa followed, Billy in her arms, leading the mourners behind her.

Billy sniffled, burying his face in her neck.

“It’s all right, darling,” Clarissa whispered. “He had a good long life.”

“Don’t leave me, Mama,” he murmured.

Her hands tightened on him at his words, and she held him closer to her. “I don’t plan to, my little man.” He sighed, and she knew he wouldn’t let go of her until they were away from the cemetery.

When they arrived, the men lowered the casket into the ground, and the mourners placed handfuls of dirt on top of it. Clarissa said a silent prayer of thanksgiving for all Mr. Pickens had been to her before she backed away into Gabriel’s strong arms. He placed his arms around her, enfolding her and Billy in his strength. Myrtle and Geraldine came to stand in front of them, and Clarissa and Gabriel each placed one hand on a daughter’s shoulder, linking them all.

“Mr. A.J. would be pleased, Rissa.”

She nodded as tears streamed down her face, the priest intoning a final prayer.

38
Missoula, Montana, November 2, 1914


I
hate
that there’s nothing more we can do,” Clarissa groused. She settled against the back of her chair, a pillow clutched to her chest. A warm fire lit the hearth in Savannah’s living room, while a cold November wind rattled the windows.

“There
is
nothing more to do,” Savannah argued. “If there
was
something more to do, I think I’d die from exhaustion.”

Zylphia snickered at her joke. She leaned against the settee, one foot curled up underneath her. “I never knew a state could be so large. And we only traversed the western part of it. If I never ride in an automobile again, I’ll be content.” She arched her back as though remembering the agony of the hundreds of miles they’d spent in the automobile while canvassing.

“I hate that, come tomorrow, the men decide while we once again wait to learn of our fate. It’s so unfair,” Clarissa said.

“Rissa, you knew this day was coming. And I’m thankful it’s finally upon us. I couldn’t imagine knocking on any more doors,” Zylphia said.

“Just wait until next year. You have another state to conquer,” Savannah teased. She rested her feet on an ottoman.

“Oh, don’t remind me!” Zylphia flung herself backward against the settee, her laughter ringing out in the room.

“Any word from Teddy, Zee?” Clarissa asked.

“Nothing more than he misses me and is thankful for my letters. He writes a lot about what we did when we were together and how he dreams of a time when we are reunited. I think he’s realized he can’t say anything of substance or it will be blackened out.” Her gaze became distant.

“Well, with that dreamy look in your eyes, whatever he said pleased you,” Sav teased.

Zylphia flushed. “He’d asked me for a sketch of Montana. I sent him one of the mountains. I also sent him one of me.”

“I’m sure he will be delighted to receive both of them,” Clarissa said. “Although I would think it would have been easier to have your photograph taken.”

“I realized as I labored over it that I was being a fool. However, I needed to send him my drawings.” She blushed again. “He always encouraged my art.”

“I’ve never met the man, but, the more you talk about him, the more I like him,” Savannah said. “A man who encourages you to embrace the best parts of you is a man to love.”

“They said this war would be over by Christmas. What if it isn’t?” Zylphia asked.

“Then you’ll face it, just like you’ve faced everything else,” Clarissa said.

* * *

A
few days
later Zylphia entered Savannah’s living room with a letter from her mother in her hand. She settled on the settee, ripped open the letter, glancing at her mother’s friendly salutation before stilling. She read and reread one sentence over and over, but it failed to make sense.

At that moment, Savannah, Clarissa, Araminta and Melinda burst into the room, waving newspapers over their heads.

“It’s as we suspected!” Clarissa said with a
whoop
of joy. Although still recovering from her recent loss, she was beaming. “We won!” She grabbed Zylphia and pulled her into an impromptu dance, twirling her around. Clarissa stopped abruptly when she realized she was spinning Zylphia like a rag doll.

“Zee?” Savannah asked, touching her with a gentle caress on her arm. “Aren’t you happy all our hard work paid off and we won the vote for women here in Montana?”

“Of course I am,” Zylphia said with a forced smile. She blinked rapidly as tears threatened. “Delighted,” she gasped out as she burst into tears.

Araminta picked up the fallen letter near the settee and handed it to Clarissa. “May I read this?” Clarissa asked. Zylphia fell against her cousin as she sobbed, and Clarissa handed the letter over to Savannah to read, so Clarissa could hold Zylphia tight.

“Oh, no,” Savannah murmured, raising worried blue eyes to meet Clarissa’s.

“Teddy?” At Savannah’s nod, Clarissa rasped, “Is he …”

“No, he’s missing. According to Delia, he’s been missing for over a week.” She took a deep breath. “The longer a soldier is missing, the more likely he’s …”

“Dead,” Zylphia cried, her sobs intensifying.

At that moment Jeremy walked in, a beaming smile on his face. “Congratulations, my enfranchised women of Montana!” He picked up Savannah and twirled her around, frowning when she squirmed to be put down.

“Now’s not the time, Jeremy.” She stroked a hand over his arm to temper her harsh tone. “Zee’s young man is missing in the war.”

He sobered instantly and, after giving Savannah a soft squeeze, moved toward Zylphia. “Zee?” He stroked the back of her head and eased her from Clarissa’s arms into his own. He held her tight as she clung to him. “
Shhh
, … darling. Making yourself sick won’t help you or Teddy.”

“I can’t … I can’t.” She shook her head.

“I know what it’s like, fearing for those I love who’d gone missing,” he whispered into her ear. “I know how it tears you apart, the not knowing.” He eased her away, a deep sorrow and torment rarely seen in his eyes. “If there’s one thing he needs, even though he’s miles away, is for you to always believe he’s alive. That he’ll come home to you. Until you receive the news telling you otherwise, be strong, darling Zee.”

“I don’t … I don’t know how,” she cried burrowing into his shoulder again.

His strong, callused hand stroked over her head to impart some form of comfort. “You do, Zee. I know you do.” He sighed as he kissed her head. “It’s all right to cry with us now. To cry with us during the upcoming days. But always keep that hope in your heart. That he’ll come back to you.”

“I couldn’t live without it,” she whispered.

“There’s my Zee. Already stronger than you knew.” He held her, rocking her gently side to side as she sniffled and shook in his arms. He didn’t release her until she loosened her hold on him.

“Thank you,” she whispered first to Jeremy and then more loudly to all of them in the room. “I’m sorry to have ruined the celebration of what we’ve all been working toward.”

“There’s nothing more important than you than family,” Savannah said as she blinked tears from her eyes. She held an arm around Melinda’s waist, and Melinda turned her face into the crook of Savannah’s shoulder.

“We’ll help you be strong, Zee,” Clarissa said.

Zylphia looked around at her extended family, realizing that Florence had been correct. Zylphia wasn’t meant to journey through life alone, without the support of those who loved her. She said a prayer for Teddy, gave thanks for all she had, for her family and their welcoming embraces. For now, she planned to remain busy, celebrating the victory earned by and for Montana women. Soon, she’d travel home to Boston to her mother and father and Sophie and her friends, and begin the fight for the vote in Massachusetts … as she kept hope in her heart and awaited further news about Teddy.

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