Reclaimed Love: Banished Saga, Book Two Read Online Free PDF

his hand to shake Gabriel’s. “I’m Never-Enough Niall.”
    Gabriel shook his and the others’ hands feeling like he had passed a secret test. “What exactly are we building?”
    ***
    THAT EVENING GABRIEL LAY on the cotlike bed in the room he shared with Matthew, thinking about the day. Trying not to think about Clarissa and the fact that there had been no letter again from her. He had written every day for the past two weeks, and her continued silence worried him. As he lay on the narrow bed in the cramped room staring at the ceiling, all he saw was Clarissa. Her beautiful, expressive blue eyes, her chestnut-brown hair falling out of its pins. Her exuberance as she spoke about her day. An insistent ache settled in a small corner of his heart. In the beginning the letters she had hidden in his trunks with his brother Richard’s help had aided in soothing the pain of their parting, but now he needed news of her.
    The pounding on his door snapped him from his reverie. He rose from the bed and in one stride opened the door. “Larry, nice to see you. I didn’t know you boarded here.”
    “I don’t, but I learned that you do and wanted to invite you down to the pub with the rest of us.”
    “Thanks,” Gabriel said as he turned to reach for his jacket. It hung on a peg to the side of the door, at the foot of his bed. His bed lay along the same wall as the door, while Matthew’s was separated from his by a small table. A shared bureau stood at the foot of Matthew’s bed. A miniscule window over the bureau let in a faint light.
    When Gabriel turned back to leave, he found Larry peering around his room, studying everything he could see. “Who’s the fancy piece?” Larry asked, his gaze focused on the only adornment in Gabriel’s part of the Spartan rented rooms. It was a picture of Clarissa propped up on his side of the nightstand, taken in all her finery at Savannah’s wedding. She looked the part of a haughty and unapproachable society woman, a woman who would never notice him, unless someone looked closely at her eyes. He saw a hint of the vivacious woman he loved in those eyes.
    “A friend from home,” Gabriel said.
    “Seems a bit above the likes of you,” Larry said with a good-natured snort.
    Gabriel grunted his agreement, not wishing to test the accuracy of Larry’s nickname. “Let’s go,” Gabriel said, pushing him out of the room.
    They headed down the hill toward the Uptown section of Butte. “Why in God’s name do you live in Centerville?” Larry asked.
    “I made a friend on the train, and he lives up here because he works in one of the mines. And it’s cheap.”
    “Well, that’s one way of looking at it. You should think of moving to Dublin Gulch. That’s where we all live.”
    “Why would I want to live in a gulch rather than at the top of a hill? I like the view.”
    “As if you can see the mountains or the valley below through the smoke. Besides, it’s where the Irish live without having to put up with the Cornish. You’d feel at home, I would think,” Larry said with a raised eyebrow. “Think about it, Gabriel.”
    Gabriel shrugged his shoulders by way of response.
    “We decided to meet at a bar nearer to you rather than our local,” Larry said as they entered the Owsley Bar, pushing into the crowd. Announcements for the latest vaudeville shows were tacked in a haphazard display behind the barman. Off-duty miners made up the majority of the men who stood jammed along the long mahogany bar, sipping pints. Tables sat to the side and back of the room, spittoons scattered about and in frequent use. Mirrors on the back wall reflected light, making the room seem brighter and longer. After Larry and he collected their drinks, they made their way to a small side table where Morgan and Niall sat with pints in front of them.
    “What do you think of the work, Gabriel?” Morgan asked after Gabriel took a sip of his drink.
    “It seems an ambitious project, although I don’t know