Rescuing the Heiress (20 page)

“I know,” she said, patting his back. “I got lost in the smoke. I would probably have died if Michael hadn't come after me.”

“I didn't see where you went,” Gerald managed to say before breaking down. “I looked away for a minute and when I turned around you were just
gone
.”

“Michael saw me, praise the Lord, and his chief let him follow. I went up the hill to save the horses.”

“
Horses?
You risked your life for animals?”

“I know it was foolish,” she admitted. “But all I could think about was doing something—anything. It seemed as if everybody was failing no matter how hard they fought.” She eased herself away from him to watch his face when she said, “The fire took the house. Everything is gone. Ashes.”

Gerald was adamant. “Who cares? It's just a house. And the funds Phineas took aren't important either. I never should have driven you up there where you could get hurt.”

“It's okay,” Tess said soothingly. “I'm here now. There's lots of help coming in on the ferries and the
army has been mobilized, too. This terrible peril can't last forever.”

Even as she said the words, Tess wondered if she was right. Logic said she was. The experiences of the past couple of days, however, demonstrated that this trial would not end quickly or without even more loss of life.

Picturing Michael, she once again said a silent prayer for his deliverance. She wanted to trust God. Wanted to rest in the promises of scripture. Really, she did.

Then in a flash she remembered the collapse of building after building, the cries of the injured, the relentless march of the inferno, and her assurance fled like the smoke that was covering the city and its shores.

Gerald Clark lifted the dozing babe and started to hand her to Tess before he took note of her sooty clothing.

He stopped abruptly and smiled. “Look at you. I suspect I'd better take charge of this little one for a while longer.” Struggling stiffly to his feet, he led the way out of the shelter. “I want you to tell me everything, even the bad parts, and I'm sure the others would like to hear all about your adventures, too. Shall we go sit with them?”

“Of course.” A wide grin lit her face, too. “I am
very
glad to see you—to see everyone, Papa.” Amused, she eyed the babe he was cradling. “I must admit, you are not the same man I thought you were.”

“No one is the same after this,” her father said, join
ing the others and handing the babe to Rose. “Now, sit down and tell us your story.”

Just then the ground shook again and all over the park people froze in midmotion, waiting and hoping the tremors would stop rather than worsen.

How many earthquakes did this make since the big one?
Tess wondered. She doubted anyone was still trying to keep track of the number of aftershocks. Truth to tell, she was beyond caring. There was no sensible course but to face one day at a time.

There was one thing she did intend to count, however. The hours and days until she and Michael Mahoney were together again.

T
he next few days passed so quickly Tess was amazed. By Saturday morning, most of the fires had burned themselves out and those that were still smoldering were doused by most welcome showers that also helped clear the air.

Occasional rain complicated life in the park little. Most of the campers stayed warm and dry because the army had provided thousands of tents as well as the manpower to help erect them. Trainloads of other necessities had started arriving from as far away as New York to the east and Oregon and Washington to the north. Boats also continued to ferry supplies and workers over via ports in Oakland.

Tess had taken Rachel and David to the rail depot with her several times, ostensibly to help her tote an allotment of bread and milk. The little boy hadn't been much actual help but she knew he needed to feel useful to fend off melancholy.

She was the same way. Each hour that passed she
grew more anxious to see Michael again, and if she dared let herself dwell on her emotions she got worse. Thankfully Annie had been able to dress her hair in a way that hid the burned-off place and she'd found a nice black skirt and white blouse to wear after she'd scrubbed herself clean. The only other thing she yearned to show Michael was how well she'd recovered.

Thanks to their newly erected tent, Rose and Mary had arranged comfortable quarters for everyone, even setting aside a special private corner for her father while the women and children bunked together. The sight of the usually stuffy banker snoring peacefully atop a quilt spread on the ground was truly a wonder to behold.

Tess supposed, given the fact that Papa was the senior member of their group and was still recovering from all the smoke he'd breathed, he did deserve individual consideration. It seemed to her that the older women were fussing over him too much though. Rose in particular.

Keeping as busy as possible, Tess had sent David to one of the lakes that lay inside the park boundaries to fetch a bucket of wash water. By the time he staggered back to their tent he'd spilled most of it. Nevertheless, she greeted his efforts with praise.

“Thank you so much,” she said, relieving him of the pail. “Why don't you go ask Mrs. Dugan for a cookie?”

Shaking his head and staring at the ground, he scuffed his toes through the trampled grass.

“Why not? You've earned a reward.” Reaching out,
she put one finger beneath his chin and tilted up his face. There were tears in his eyes. “What's wrong?”

“I want my mama to bake me cookies.”

“Oh, honey.” Crouching and pulling him closer, she rubbed his bony back through the fabric of his shirt to soothe him while she tried to think of a suitable distraction.

“Tell you what,” Tess said brightly, keeping one arm around his shoulders and combing his thick hair off his forehead with the fingers of her other hand. “Why don't you and I both go back for more water? Then we can carry twice as much.”

David sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Okay.”

Comforting words failed her so she merely acted the part of the boy's boon companion. His sister, Rachel, being older, understood that their parents were missing and probably deceased. But poor little David was still hoping, still looking up expectantly at every passing lady as if one of them might turn out to be his mother.

If Tess had known what the woman looked like she would gladly have continued to search the thousand-plus acres of the park long after the children had grown too weary to go on. All Rachel thought she remembered was that her mother had been wearing a light blue dress right before the earthquake had leveled their home. Considering the number of refugees packed into the sea of tents and still wandering the streets, finding one particular woman in a blue dress was like looking for a needle in
a haystack. And that was assuming the woman was still wearing the same clothing.

Message boards had sprung up in the most unlikely places. Unfortunately, recent downpours had destroyed many of the scrawled messages soon after they'd been posted and there was a shortage of paper and pencil with which to communicate further.

Walking beside her, David tentatively put his small hand in Tess's. She was touched. He might not under stand how deeply she grieved for him but he was apparently sensing her concern, her empathy.

Only seconds had stood between her and death. She knew that now. If Michael had not come after her, she would have died just as so many others had. Although she was grateful for life, she also felt guilty for having survived when so many other worthy souls had been lost.

Beside her, the boy tensed and tugged on her hand.

“What is it, honey?”

He pointed down a row of tents. “Is that my mama?”

Tess bent next to him to follow his line of sight so she'd be sure she was looking in the right place. “I don't know. Do you think it may be?”

Shoulders slumping with dejection, he finally shook his head and said, “No. That lady's too old. My mama's prettier, too.”

Tess was about to ask if he wanted to go take a closer look just in case, when she spotted something she had certainly not expected. The bowler, the cane, the prim
way of almost strutting when he walked. It was him. There was no mistake. It was Phineas Edgerton!

Eyes wide, she cast around for landmarks, finding few. She and David were walking along the main concourse but where exactly were they? If she left there to go back to get help she might never be able to locate this place again. Not only that, Phineas might decide to flee while she was gone.

Crouching, she took the boy by the shoulders, held him still to look him in the eyes and spoke seriously. “I have a very special job for you, David. Do you think you can do it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. Give me your bucket to hold. I want you to run back to our tent and fetch my papa as fast as you can. You know who I mean?”

Because the child appeared apprehensive, Tess added, “He's really a nice man but he's been kind of sick so he sometimes sounds cross. He'll be very happy when you tell him what I want.”

She paused, making sure the child was still paying close attention, then continued, “Tell him I found the man who stole the money. And tell him to bring a gun with him when he comes to meet me. I'm going to wait right here so we don't get confused and look in the wrong place. Do you understand all that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. Go. Hurry. Run.”

Watching the spry little boy race back the way they'd come, Tess was torn. She wanted to stomp up to Phineas,
slap his smug face and tell him exactly what she thought of him. A few days ago she might have done exactly that, even though she'd known better. Now, however, she was going to force herself to wait. Running headlong into danger had almost gotten her killed. She owed it to Michael—and to herself—to listen to her brain, not her heart, for a change.

 

Mopping up after a blaze was one of the hardest parts of firefighting. It was not only tedious, it was boring. There was no excitement, just smoldering ashes, the stench of burned wood and the flotsam that was all that remained of people's hopes and dreams.

Michael hadn't seen Tess or his mother or any of the others in longer than he liked. Soon that separation would be over. He wasn't particularly keen on facing Tess's father again until he'd had a chance to speak privately with her but he wanted to see her so badly he'd have faced a cage full of hungry lions to do so.

That thought made him smile. Gerald Clark did roar like a lion at times, although there was a good possibility that the banker was little more than a pussycat once he dropped all the bluster. Time would tell.

Picturing Tess, his lovely Tess, brought a grin to Michael's face. He needed sleep. And a shave. And above all a bath. He knew he should at least try to make himself more presentable before he called on her, even in the park. By now, she would have had plenty of chances to spruce up and he felt he needed to do the same in order to show his respect.

The army had set up a facility in which all the men could refresh themselves, both citizen volunteers and those who had been laboring in an official capacity like him. If he hadn't been near the Presidio when he was finally released from duty he might have thrown good manners aside and hurried to the park just as he was. However, given the ideal circumstances, he decided to tarry just long enough to bathe, shave and try to find a decent, clean change of clothes.

Then he would answer the calling of his heart and rejoin Tess. He didn't care how weary he was or how much his whole being insisted he must have rest. There would be no sleep for him until he had found Tess. Until he knew she was all right and showed her that he was fine, too.

Michael began to smile again as he visualized their glad reunion. If she missed him half as much as he missed her, there was going to be a lot more opportunity for the groups of survivors to ogle them and cheer.

 

Tess was pacing, off to one side of the walkway, while keeping an eagle eye on the last place she'd seen Phineas. If it looked as if he was going to escape before Papa got there she'd have to do something. But what? She didn't dare accost the weasel of a man, regardless of how appealing that move sounded. She was not only unarmed, she'd promised David that she'd wait right there for him.

Standing on tiptoe and straining to peer into the
distance, she kept watching for some sign that her father was on his way. There was plenty of activity all around her, in and out of the park, but no sign of Papa.

Tess turned back. She could see Phineas doing something. Was he moving away or merely gesturing to someone? It was impossible to tell anything from this great a distance.

“Heavenly Father, help,” she prayed in a whisper. Surely, God had not brought her onto this particular path at this exact moment to show her the evil person she sought, then snatch him away again?

She fisted her hands, barely noticing the slight soreness left on her palms after having felt her way along the ground during the fire at the estate.

Her heart leaped at the vivid memory. She'd been ready to give up. Resigned to her fate. And then Michael had arrived and had saved her.

Michael.
That was who she needed this time, too, she reasoned. He could make short work of Phineas and see that he didn't get away with anything else. Reflecting on the past, Tess wished she'd let the two men duke it out when they'd had their confrontation in front of the pavilion. Then perhaps Phineas wouldn't have taken his ire out on her father.

That notion brought her up short. Was
that
what this was all about? Instead of being a simple robbery, could Edgerton's actions have been more of a prideful vendetta against her family? It was possible, even probable, given the way her father had tried to engineer their courtship and she had refused to even consider it.

Staring into the distance, deep in reminiscences, Tess almost missed seeing Phineas mount a horse and prepare to depart.

The instant she came to her senses and realized what she was seeing, her heart began to pound. The option of easily confronting him had just been removed. Neither she nor Papa would be able to catch a running horse and they had none of their own to ride in pursuit. Not yet. He had sent word for his cohorts to keep an eye out for the horses she'd released, especially her mare, but so far there had been no word on their whereabouts.

Freezing in place, feeling as if her feet were rooted to the ground more solidly than the tree under which she stood, Tess saw a change in the rider's position. Not only was he reining his mount around, he looked as if he was about to charge in her direction!

“Papa, where are you?” she moaned, quickly checking the course to their camp. She didn't see any sign of either her father or the boy.

What she did see, however, was Phineas cantering toward her, riding casually as if he hadn't a care in the world.

The closer he drew, the angrier she became. He was going to pass right by her as though she didn't even exist.

Tess steeled herself. No, he wasn't. Fate had brought him into her sphere of influence and she intended to act.

Raising her arms and waving them with the express intention of frightening his horse, she stepped into his
path and managed to scream, “Stop, thief!” once before breaking into the uncontrollable, racking cough that still plagued her.