Rescuing the Heiress Page 12

  He bunched the reins before handing them to her. “There was quite a gathering of refugees in Union Square but I think it would be wiser for you to press on as far as Golden Gate Park to be farther from danger. Wait for me there. I’ll find you.”

  “When?” Tess whispered. “How soon?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Placing one more quick kiss on her lips, he whirled and loped off, dreading the incontrovertible fact that his life might be required of him that very day and he might never again lay eyes on the woman he loved.

  He already ached for her, for the precious moment they had just shared and for the days and years that lay ahead. If God took him in the line of duty, how would she cope with that loss? For that matter if something happened to Tess while he was otherwise occupied fighting fires or taking part in rescue operations, how could he ever forgive himself?

  His eyes burned. His throat was raw. With tears coursing down his cheeks and clouds of smothering smoke making him cough and gasp for air, he increased his pace.

  At that instant, he wasn’t sure whether he was running toward his duty or away from the overwhelming urge to give in and return to Tess while he still could.

  Chapter Twelve

  If Tess had not kept thinking about Michael and their all-too-brief kiss, she might have found it harder to cope with the sights and sounds and smells surrounding her.

  Seated in the buggy, Annie and Rose clung to each other while Tess led the horse carefully, slowly through the ruins of the city and headed toward the enormous, rectangular park that lay between Fulton Street and Lincoln Way.

  A pall still hung over the populace, although many people seemed to be snapping out of it. Here and there she actually heard laughter and spied children running and playing despite what had occurred. Youngsters were the most resilient survivors, of course, because they didn’t truly comprehend the enormity of such a widespread disaster.

  Tess could understand the intense emotional conflict the adults were experiencing. Part of her wanted to break down and sob while another part urged her to smile and perhaps even celebrate life.

  There were many unfortunate souls who could not rejoice in their circumstances the way she and her companions could, and those people were to be pitied. However, even the worst losses couldn’t negate the thankfulness of personal endurance and survival. To deny being grateful for that would be like questioning God’s sovereignty.

  There was a newly built decorative stone wall around the northeast corner of Golden Gate Park. Bypassing that, Tess worked her way into the park proper and stopped the buggy beneath the arching branches of a slim eucalyptus.

  Quite a few larger, more substantial trees, such as cypress and pines, had actually been toppled by the quake, making her glad she hadn’t been parked under any of them then. Nor would she take such a chance with those that remained upright—or with the monuments honoring President Garfield, Francis Scott Key and others.

  Tying the reins loosely around the trunk of the sapling, she gave the trusty horse a pat and returned to her passengers.

  “I think we’d better use the buggy to stake out our space,” Tess said, “before so many others arrive that we’re all jammed in together and have no privacy.” Studying the gathering multitude and fearing the worst, she pressed her lips together.

  “Will we be safe here?” Annie asked as she jumped to the ground and reached back with Tess to assist her mother.

  “I think so. If there are too many more shocks we can always move over to the tennis courts. Since we have no idea how long we’ll have to stay here, I think grass will make the best carpet.”

  “What about finding a doctor for Mama?” the maid asked.

  “I’ll see to that. You two stay here and guard our supplies while I scout around.”

  “Alone?” Annie’s eyes widened. “You can’t just go wandering off by yourself. What would your papa say?”

  “Hopefully, he’d realize that I have a brain of my own and know how to use it,” Tess replied, managing a smile. Now that they were ensconced among survivors and no longer had to keep looking upon the death and mayhem that lay beyond the boundaries of the park, she was feeling a definite sense of relief.

  Little wonder that sounds of happy conversation and more playful children were so prevalent here, Tess thought. Although this situation was no cause for celebration it was, nonetheless, plenty of reason to give thanks. They were alive and well. And many thousands of other citizens were sharing that blessing, as well.

  Given the alternative, it was perfectly natural to be joyous. After all, the worst was probably over and as soon as the firemen doused the fires they could all begin to restore life as it had been mere hours before.

  Looking around her, Tess was struck by the uplifting sense of camaraderie and shared experience. Praise be to God they had found and rescued Annie’s mother and knew that Michael’s was safe and sound atop Nob Hill.

  Other than Michael, whom she would always worry about no matter what, that left only her father to cause her a bit of concern. It was foolish to worry much about her father. Gerald Clark knew most of the important men in town as well as in state government, thanks to his financial status. If he had a problem, he could always call upon the mayor or even the troops that were stationed at the Presidio.

  But Michael? Now that was a different story. Pausing, Tess scanned her surroundings, shaded her eyes and peered into the distance. Little smoke was visible to the north where the sea entered the bay. The Pacific shore lay down the hill, directly to the west, and the bulk of the bay was east, past the city proper.

  What’s left of the city, that is, she reflected, once again lamenting the terrible loss of life.

  Papa would be more concerned with damage to property, of course, and she could see marvelous chances for him to eventually put some of his money to good use rebuilding the city he loved.

  They could even open their home to refugees the way he’d suggested, she added, pondering possible ways to provide hot meals without endangering the house by lighting cooking fires before the chimneys were properly inspected.

  Dodging wagons and pedestrians, Tess quickened her steps. She would first check the nearby clubhouse to see if there was medical assistance available inside. If not, perhaps someone there would be able to direct her to a doctor for Rose.

  Thinking of the older woman’s narrow escape made bile rise in Tess’s throat. If they had been a few minutes later, Annie’s mother would surely have burned to death in the splintered ruins of her home.

  “And if I hadn’t listened to Michael and let him use his horse, we would probably have arrived too late to save the poor woman.”

  That sobering thought settled in Tess’s heart and mind like a boulder. Michael again. Always Michael.

  A sudden yearning to be with the gallant fireman filled her so thoroughly she felt dizzy. A nearby slatted wooden bench offered temporary respite and she quickly availed herself of it.

  Seated with her elbows on her knees, her hands pressed over her face, she closed her eyes and began to pray for the man she loved, focusing more than she’d ever thought possible and shedding silent tears for the life she feared they might never have a chance to share.

  For Michael, the trek to the fire station on Bush Street seemed to take forever. When he arrived and saw the pile of bricks from the collapsed chimney of the California Hotel lying atop the smashed firehouse, he gaped, then grabbed the arm of the nearest passing fireman and insisted on being informed of the station’s status.

  “There ain’t no station, if that’s what you’re meanin’.”

  “What about the chief engineer? Where’s he?”

  “On his way to the hospital, if any of ’em are still standing. Sullivan’s quarters collapsed with him and his wife inside. She’s okay but the chief fell all the way through to the basement and ended up scalded by a ruptured steam pipe from the boiler. He’s alive but it don’t look good.”

  “Then who’s in charge?”


  “Beats me. Battalion Chief Walters said that we should just stand by till he decides what to do. He said he was gonna drive around and see what was going on if he could get his buggy through these streets. And I ain’t seen hide nor hair of acting Chief Dougherty since before the quake.”

  “What about survivors? Who’s helping them?”

  “Don’t know. You volunteerin’?”

  “Could be. I know where there’s a spare horse and buggy we could use.” Michael hesitated and clapped the young man on the shoulder. “Will you be all right?”

  “I ain’t never gonna be all right again and that’s a fact.” The dusty fireman shook his head and wiped his sooty eyes. “Maybe this is Armageddon.”

  “I don’t think so,” Michael said, “but time will tell. If we get more shakes, be sure you and the others are in the clear.” He eyed what was left of the once-thriving California Hotel. “There are still enough bricks hanging on up there to do plenty more harm if they fall.”

  “Don’t know that I care much at this point,” the young man said. “Seems unfair for the best chief we ever had to die right when we need him the most.”

  “I thought you said he was still alive.”

  “I did. But I saw the burns and I wouldn’t wish sufferin’ like that on my worst enemy. He ain’t gonna make it. No way.”

  “That’s up to the Almighty,” Michael said.

  Snorting, he wiped his nose with his sleeve. “This shouldn’t of happened. No, sir.”

  Michael had no ready rebuttal because he didn’t understand, either. No one could. If the earth had trembled a few hours earlier he would have been the one tending to the horses and he might easily have been killed instead of poor O’Neill.

  His breath caught. What if the quake had come while Tess was still at the opera? He hadn’t seen the edifice himself but he’d heard that it was in shambles. The loss of life the evening before, when Caruso had been performing for a packed house, would have been catastrophic. Those who had not been killed outright would probably have been trampled to death by others who were trying to escape.

  The notion that Tess could have been caught in that tempest of human agony cut him to the core.

  “But she wasn’t. She’s safe,” he reminded himself firmly. “And I have work to do.”

  His mind was spinning. Where to begin without proper leadership? Who was going to take over and manage the manpower and equipment the various departments had left? He didn’t have the rank or authority to do so no matter how much he wished he could.

  Until Battalion Chief Walters returned or acting Chief Dougherty instituted some kind of overall battle plan, it looked as if he was as much on his own as the gangs of men who were wandering the streets and stopping to pull survivors from the wreckage at random.

  That was a worthy goal, at least for now, Michael decided. Speaking to the fireman he’d just encouraged, he explained, “Union Square is filled to overflowing. I’m going to go get a wagon and start hauling the injured and elderly over to Golden Gate Park. When Walters or Dougherty get here, tell them Company D only lost one man that we know of, but we have no usable equipment. We’ll need a new assignment.”

  “All right. If I see ’em I will. Who knows whether Walters’ll even make it back?”

  “He has to,” Michael insisted, looking into the distance and seeing clouds of billowing smoke and a telltale reddish glow. “If somebody doesn’t take charge soon we could lose the whole city.”

  The other man gave a guttural laugh. “If you ask me, she’s already a goner. We got no communication, no alarm system, and half the hydrants are dry. Cisterns the same way. The ones that’ve got water are so full of garbage they’re ’bout useless, or so I hear.”

  “All we can do is make the best of whatever we have,” Michael said. “I’ll stop by later and see if there’s any plan of action yet.”

  And in the meantime, he told himself as he turned and started to jog toward the park, I’ll be able to check on Tess again when I commandeer her rig.

  He knew there were plenty of other conveyances he could appropriate but he wasn’t about to do so. No, sir. Not when this plan included seeing his beloved Tess once more.

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time Gerald Bell Clark reached his still-erect bank building, Phineas Edgerton was already there looking after things.

  “Phineas! Good man. How bad is it?”

  “Bad enough, G.B. Have you seen the crowds in the streets? Rabble. Pure rabble. No telling what they’ll do in these circumstances. Maybe even storm the vault.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Gerald said, patting the younger man on his slim shoulder. “I brought extra men with me and stationed them outside to act as guards. And we have plenty of ammunition. I think we can hold off a small army, if it comes to that.”

  “What about your house, your daughter?”

  “Tess will be fine. I ordered her to stay home.”

  Phineas huffed. “What makes you think she will abide by your wishes when she’s been filling her head with all that woman suffrage nonsense?”

  “My daughter is a reasonable person. She’ll do as I say. And she’ll eventually agree that you are the best choice for a husband, too. Just give me time. I’ll bring her around.”

  As Gerald watched, he saw the other man’s expression harden. Not that he could blame him. Tess was a headstrong woman, one worthy of being a Clark, yet difficult to handle.

  Gerald was certain that his choice of Phineas as his future son-in-law would prevail, even if it took Tess a little time to accept the idea. The man was a gem, unfortunately not too muscular or particularly comely but with the intelligence and shrewd instincts a successful banker needed. And once Tess became his wife, the Clarks and the Edgertons could merge their fortunes and create a banking dynasty that was unrivaled. It was a perfect plan.

  Eyeing Phineas, Gerald stifled a grimace. His grandchildren might turn out to be gaunt-looking with long, hooked noses if they didn’t happen to favor Tess’s side of the family tree, but that was the least of his concerns. Once he got her married off and properly settled, he could stop losing sleep over the possibility of her making a poor choice of a husband and start fully concentrating on his business again.

  Gaining that kind of peace of mind was worth any sacrifice. He should know. He’d made a similar one when he’d married the sickly but wealthy wife who had borne him a headstrong, troublesome daughter instead of the strapping son he’d always wanted.

  As Tess wended her way through the mass of refugees she was both amazed and befuddled. Many were sooty and weary but others seemed so nonchalant about the circumstances that had forced them out of their homes it was incomprehensible.

  Well-dressed women in fancy frocks, coats and the kind of elaborate hats she and Annie had worn to the suffragette lectures were chatting, laughing and holding sway as if they were about to serve tea in their own drawing rooms. Many had apparently had some of their finest furniture transported to the park so they would be comfortable there, acting as if they considered the outing a mere lark. Didn’t they know about all the poor souls who had perished? Didn’t they care?

  “All right,” a man shouted just to her right. “Everybody smile. Let’s show those hoity-toity easterners that nothing bothers us here in Frisco.”

  Tess paused and scowled at him. He had a tripod and small camera set up and was actually taking photographs in the park, apparently bent on taking full advantage of the disaster to fill his pockets with filthy lucre. And he wasn’t the only one. There were pushcarts brimming with fruit and baked goods making the rounds. Even the Chinese had come, apparently for safety as well as to peddle their wares, and were freely mingling with residents of the city who would normally have treated them with disdain.

  Still, wasn’t this the kind of equality and freedom Maud Younger had espoused? Tess wondered. Perhaps, she answered, but what a shame it took such carnage to bring it about.

  Reaching the small clubhouse
where she had expected to find some semblance of organization, Tess was greeted by a group of rowdies instead of the refined gentlemen she had expected. The crudely clad young men had taken over the main room as if they belonged there and were in various states of repose. Some had even propped their muddy boots on the manager’s desk with no apparent qualms.

  Tess hesitated briefly before deciding that she was being too quick to judge. After all, she was anything but pristine-looking herself, having dressed without much thought and having later employed her bare hands to dig through the wreckage of Rose’s house.

  She nervously brushed her palms over her skirt, tossed locks of her long hair back over her shoulders and cleared her throat. “Excuse me. Can any of you tell me where I might find a doctor?”

  The raucous laughter that ensued told her she had been right to prejudge these men, fair or not.

  “You want what?” one of them asked, shouting to be heard above his cronies’ catcalls.

  “A doctor. I have a friend who may be injured.”

  He snorted and spat onto the already filthy floor. “Lady, are you crazy? There ain’t no docs here and there ain’t gonna be. Go on now. Leave us in peace.”

  “But…”

  One of the other men lobbed a juicy apple core toward the doorway. It splatted on the floor, just missing the hem of Tess’s skirt.

  Startled, she jumped away, to the amusement of the entire group, then whirled and began to run back toward the spot where she’d left the horse and buggy.

  Why had she let Michael convince her to come here? They should have gone home, to the house on Nob Hill, where they’d at least have had a roof over their heads and sufficient food and water.

  Suddenly realizing she’d become disoriented, Tess stopped and turned in a circle. Everything looked different than it had just minutes ago. Tides of people were entering the open grounds in a never-ending flow of humanity, evidently bringing with them as many of their worldly goods as they could carry. A few were even towing chairs with bundles lashed to their seats in lieu of a suitable wagon or cart.