Tenacious Love (Banished Saga, Book Four): Banished Saga, Book Four Page 18

  “Do you find my work lacking? I’ve done all I could over the past ten years to show I’m a hard worker.”

  “Araminta, I fear you’ve been too diligent, to the point Clarissa, Savannah and Colin have come to rely on you too much.” Delia leaned forward. She looked around the immaculately cleaned room. “I rely on you too much. You keep this home in ready expectation of our arrival, even though we only visit twice a year at most. Don’t you want more from life than cleaning others’ homes and caring for others’ children?”

  “I have more than I ever thought I’d have. I haven’t had to worry about whether I’d have food or shelter since you sent me on the train ride west with Savannah and Jeremy ten years ago.”

  Delia watched her closely. “I know you have questions.”

  “Who were my parents? Why didn’t they want me?” She bowed her head. “I know I would have been a burden to them with an incurable limp, but I’ve managed well here.”

  “You’ve done remarkably well,” Delia soothed. “Better than I could have hoped. I worry that you’re allowing your history to limit you.”

  Araminta raised her eyes to meet Delia’s, her eyes filled with frustration. “You never answered my questions.”

  Delia grimaced. She reached forward and grasped her hand, cradling it with both of hers. “Your parents were unable to care for you, Araminta. I never knew who they were. They left you, with a note pinned on your clothing, on the doorstep of the orphanage, asking for aid in raising you.”

  Araminta sniffled and was silent a few moments. “What’s my last name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Few have noticed I never mention a last name, but I wish I had one.” She sniffled again, reaching into her pocket for a handkerchief. She wiped at her nose and dabbed at her eyes before placing it back in her pocket.

  “Not having a last name doesn’t mean you aren’t worthy of respect, Minta.”

  Araminta moved to rise before stilling. “Did I even have a name pinned to me when you took me in?”

  Delia paled. “No. I chose the name Araminta because, … well, I’d always liked the name.” She sighed and flushed with regret. “I have no excuse for not giving you a last name. I, more than most, know the importance of a last name.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. McLeod, for taking me in. For ensuring I traveled with Savannah and Jeremy.” She raised luminous eyes to Delia. “For they’ve treated me like family, something I never had.”

  Delia nodded, patting Araminta’s hand a few times before Araminta rose to finish her work.

  “If you don’t mind, Mrs. McLeod, I’ll go to Colin’s to help prepare for his brother’s arrival tonight.”

  Delia nodded again, frowning as she watched Araminta walk from the room.

  Araminta let herself into Colin’s house, stilling when she heard a screeching sound coming from the kitchen area. She glanced around the living room and grabbed a brass candlestick. She crept toward the kitchen, raising the candlestick as she leapt into the room, stumbling as her weak leg gave out.

  Colin’s head jerked around, his startled expression changing to one of amusement as he beheld Araminta. “Did you think to bang me over the head with that?”

  “What are you doing home?” she asked, her breath coming out in a gasp.

  “I couldn’t remember if I’d asked you to help me today, so I had one of the guys run the forge for me and came home early.” He beamed at Araminta. “Now you’re here, I can chat with you while you work.”

  She gave him a disgruntled look and rolled her eyes. “You can continue to clean, or whatever you were doing, while I work on another part of the house.”

  She shrieked as Colin grabbed her for an impromptu waltz.

  “Patrick’s coming back, and we’ll all be together again,” he sang, somehow forming a tune as he spun them around his small kitchen, easily compensating for the hitch in her stride. He frowned when he saw her battling tears. “Minta? Forgive me. Did I hurt you?” She shook her head, pushing away from him, but he held firm. “Talk to me, Minta.” He pulled her closer, holding her to his chest.

  A sob broke free before she swallowed her sorrow and pushed the top of her head against his chest to leverage herself away from him.

  He allowed her to step back but reached forward to swipe at her tears. “What’s wrong? You’re never sad.”

  She gave an incredulous laugh. “There isn’t a day of my life I’m not sad.” She covered her mouth to prevent any further words from bursting forth.

  He gripped her hands and pulled her through the kitchen door and the dining room to his living room and pushed her onto his comfortable, dilapidated sofa. He sat next to her, a frown furrowing the area between his brows. “I like to think we’re friends, Minta. I hate to think all this time you’ve been sad and I had no idea.”

  He played with a loose strand of hair. “What happened today, Minta?”

  “I talked with Mrs. McLeod. She’s worried I’m doing too much for all of you.”

  “She’s had the same complaint for years. Even when we’ve urged you to do less, it hasn’t changed how much you do.” He watched her intently. “That’s not what upset you. What really happened?”

  “It’s nothing. I’m just being foolish.”

  “You’re the least foolish woman I know. After evading Mrs. Vaughan and her daughter, believe me, I know what foolish is.” His wry comment earned a slight uplifting of her lips. He raised a hand and stroked his palm over her head but said nothing further. His silence soothed her, and she met his eyes.

  “I don’t know who I am.”

  “You’re Araminta. Our great friend, honorary aunt to the McLeod children,” Colin said without a moment’s hesitation.

  She blinked away tears. “When I arrived at the orphanage, I had no name. My parents didn’t want me.”

  Colin sighed, his body moving forward as though to take her burden and make it his own. “What matters is that we want you.” He watched her closely. “If you never cooked or cleaned or cared for the children again, we’d want you with us. You’re a part of our family. Surely you know that.”

  She lowered her head. “I know my worth stems from what I can do for all of you.”

  “No, Minta. You’re valued because of who you are.” He clenched his jaw. “Please, I want you to leave. I don’t want you to clean here today.”

  “Colin—”

  “No, I will not have you believe the only reason I value having you here is because you cook and clean. I refuse to have you see me in such a light.” He rose, an angry flush on his cheeks. “Take the afternoon off and find something enjoyable to do, Minta. For once, think about yourself.”

  He strode to the door, opening it for her to leave. He watched as she left with hunched shoulders, refusing to meet his gaze. He stood on his porch, tracking her slow progression down his street. When he could no longer see her and had become quite cold, he reentered his home, slamming shut the front door and then kicking it for good measure.

  Clarissa grabbed Patrick close for a moment before releasing him to march away to find Colin. Patrick shared an amused glance with Gabriel and followed Clarissa, leaving Gabriel to mind his children. Clarissa entered the kitchen, then walked into a side hallway toward Colin’s bedroom and tapped on his door.

  “Col,” she said, as she rapped again.

  “What do you want, Rissa?” Colin snapped as he opened his door. He rolled his eyes to find Patrick with his sister on the other side.

  Clarissa pushed him back a step, frowning to see Patrick behind her before motioning him to shut the door. When the door was shut, she gave Colin a jab to his shoulder. “What do you think you were doing?” At Colin’s blank stare, she jabbed him again. “Upsetting Minta like you did.”

  “I did no such thing. I was considerate for the first time in years. I gave her a free afternoon.”

  “A free afternoon? Do you know how she spent it?” Clarissa held her hands on her hips. “Crying in my kitchen that you n
o longer thought she was good enough to work in your house because you found out she was brought to the orphanage with no idea as to her parentage.” Clarissa hit him again in his shoulder. “How could you be so unfeeling?”

  Colin grabbed her hand, a dumbstruck expression on his face. “That’s not what happened at all. I realized that we’d been using her. Having her do too much, just like Delia has been complaining about for years.”

  “Don’t you think that’s for Araminta to decide?” Patrick asked.

  “Exactly,” Clarissa said. “Do you know that you made her feel as though you no longer want her to be a part of our gatherings? That you no longer think she’s good enough to be here with us?”

  “No, she couldn’t think that. I told her how she was an honorary aunt to all the McLeod children.” Colin rubbed a hand over his face. “She’s Minta. She’s one of us.”

  “She’s one of us who’s always believed she had to prove her worth. And the only way she knows how to do it is by working in our homes and caring for our children. It’s how she feels she belongs. When you took that from her today, you stripped her of who she’s come to believe she is.”

  Colin sat on the edge of his unkempt bed. “I mucked up everything. I just wanted her to feel like there was more she could do. More to who she was. She didn’t always have to be at our beck and call.”

  “Talk to her, Col. I had to forcibly drag her here tonight, telling her that I was feeling ill and couldn’t possibly care for the children on my own without her.”

  Colin rubbed his shoulder, a wry grimace at the thought of his strong sister suffering an illness. “Where is she?”

  “By now I imagine she’s in the kitchen.” Clarissa stood in front of him, preventing him from leaving his room. “I understand why you did what you did. But Minta’s different. She doesn’t have an inherent sense of worth that comes from being raised in a family who loves you.”

  “I hate that she feels she has to prove she’s worthy of our attention. Of our care.”

  “I know,” Clarissa said as she stroked a hand down from his shoulder, his arm, to his hand. She stepped aside and watched as he slipped from the room.

  Colin entered the kitchen to find Savannah teasing a smile from Araminta. Savannah met Colin’s gaze and gave him a worried smile. He approached Araminta and rested one of his hands on her shoulder, stiffening as she froze under his touch.

  “Minta, could I talk with you outside a minute?”

  “Of course,” she murmured, turning to grab her wrap from the backdoor peg and following him out.

  “Why do you have your wrap at the back door?” he asked, huffing out a frustrated breath.

  “I always use the back door when I can,” she said, head lowered.

  “Ari,” he whispered, using a nickname he rarely used. “I never meant to cause you distress this afternoon.” When she refused to meet his gaze, he placed a finger under her chin, exerting pressure so she’d raise her head. “I never meant to make you think I didn’t value all you do for me,” he said, dropping his hand. “I’d be lost without your friendship, without you dropping by to tidy my place and ensuring I toed the line, lest my home look worse than a stall needing mucking out.”

  He frowned as a tear formed on her lower eyelash. “Don’t cry, Ari.” He pulled her into his embrace. “You’re precious to all of us. If you find your worth in working, then we’ll let you work.” He held her a moment more before easing her away. “I merely wanted you to know I valued you as a friend. You don’t need to clean or cook to be welcomed here.” He let out a huff of frustration as she remained silent. “Talk to me, Ari.”

  “Without you, your family, I’d be nothing,” she whispered.

  “That’s not true.” Colin grimaced as his words came out harsher than he meant. “You’d still be a resourceful woman, able to survive.”

  “I’d have nothing.”

  Colin pulled her close again, holding her as she shuddered. “Forgive me my senselessness.”

  “I will because now I understand it wasn’t meant out of spite.”

  “Never.” He chucked her under her chin. “I only brought hardship on myself. For I denied all of us one of your pies.”

  She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “You have to make do with the one Rissa baked.”

  Colin laughed, slinging an arm over her shoulder and steering her inside. “God help us.”

  They reentered the kitchen, Colin ushering her in and sharing a relieved look with Savannah and Clarissa. They nodded their understanding, Clarissa’s shoulders relaxing as she beheld Araminta’s smile. “Come. Let’s visit with Patrick a few minutes before we eat.” She looped her arm through Araminta’s, leading her into the living room, away from the kitchen and work.

  Patrick sat on Colin’s front porch, enjoying the brisk fall evening. He set his head against the back of the tall rocker and allowed the sound of the breeze soughing through the trees, the distant sounds of children playing and the rocker creaking to ease his tension. He fought to maintain his calm as he heard the front door squeak open and the slam of the screen door. The sound of Colin tumbling into the chair next to him caused him to smile.

  “If you were going for subtlety, you failed.” Patrick grinned as he turned his head toward his brother.

  “It’s good to finally see you relaxed.” He rocked, and the two of them spent the next minutes in silent camaraderie.

  “Did you make amends to Araminta?”

  Colin sighed. “I think so.” He muttered out a curse. “I hope so.”

  “What is she to you, Col?”

  “A friend. A good friend.”

  “It seems she’s more than that.” Patrick ceased rocking and watched his brother grow tense. “I know I have no right to interfere in your life. You’ve only seen me a few times since I’ve reentered your life. I’m sorry to press you.”

  “You’re my brother, Patrick. I might not like your questions, and I don’t have to answer them, but we’ll always be family.”

  Patrick stiffened at his words before taking a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. “I never thought you would welcome me back. Not after I left with no explanation.” He met Colin’s open, curious gaze and shook his head.

  “So you still won’t talk about why you left?” At Patrick’s subtle shake of his head, Colin resumed rocking, this time with agitation. He stopped suddenly, pointing a finger at Patrick and spearing him with an intense stare, his blue eyes lit with a fiery intensity. “No matter what you could tell me, it would never make me want you to leave again.”

  Patrick closed his eyes, as though having received a benediction, but remained quiet. Colin rocked again, settling into his chair and whistling.

  “Is that ‘Come, Josephine, in My Flying Machine’?”

  Colin nodded and continued. He moved from song to song, finally ending in a ribald rendition of “Row, Row, Row.”

  Patrick laughed, relaxing into his chair again. “Only you could make an innocent song sound licentious.”

  “If you think that’s innocent, you haven’t really listened to the lyrics,” Colin said as he huffed out a laugh while taking a break from whistling. “How are things in Butte?”

  “Good and bad.” At Colin’s raised eyebrow, Patrick said, “I’m making friends.” He paused as he thought about Fiona.

  “By the look in your eyes, one of these friends is female.”

  Patrick smiled, meeting Colin’s amused grin. “Yes. Fiona O’Leary. She works for the same company I do as a secretary.”

  “Would the boss like you carrying on with his secretary?”

  “We aren’t carrying on. We meet at the Columbia Gardens or go to a show every once in a while, and her cousin or sister is always with us.” He chuffed out a laugh at Colin’s raised eyebrows, suddenly feeling like a young man back in Boston, sharing stories with his brother. “She’s my boss’s secretary, and he’s not as fond of me as he was.” When Colin remained silent, Patrick spoke freely. He recalle
d how Colin could always tease him and cajole him into laughing fits, but also had the ability to know when silence was needed.

  “I like her, Col. I haven’t allowed myself to like anyone in years. Not since I left.” He stared in space for a few moments. “You have no idea what it is to be alone. To think you’ll always be alone.”

  Colin leaned forward at the words wrenched from Patrick’s soul and stabbed him in the shoulder with his finger. “You chose to be alone. We were here, waiting for you. Always.” He sighed, his chair creaking as he leaned back into it. “Tell me about your Fiona.”

  Patrick half smiled at Colin referring to her in such a way. “I wish she were mine, Col. And that scares the hell out of me to admit it.” He clasped his hands together as he thought about her. “She’s open and warm and honest. Curious about the world and loyal to her family.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Living in one of the ugliest places in America, I see beauty again,” he whispered.

  Colin laughed and slapped him on his shoulder. “Well, then, it seems you know what you need to do, brother.” He laughed harder as Patrick paled at the prospect. “Is this why you are so tense?”

  “Partly. It’s also that I’m not sure how long I’ll remain employed. If I’m not working, I can’t offer marriage. It wouldn’t be honorable.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand my boss. He’s from Boston too and suffered from the Panic of ’07. But rather than feel diminished from his financial losses, he’s emboldened by them. He’s brazen with money, with workers’ lives. He sees them as nothing more than a commodity, like copper.” He shared a look of chagrin with Colin. “He arrives in a few days with the expectation of meeting my family.”

  “Why would a suit from Butte come here?”

  “He claims he has to meet with a man in Bonner about the lumber. I’d think it beneath him and far from his role, but it’s not my place to question what he does.”

  Colin sat, his rocking little more than a soft swaying motion as he thought. “Lucas arrives the day after tomorrow. I doubt the family will want to spend time with a stranger.” Colin met Patrick’s worried gaze. “He didn’t give you an option, did he?”