Wolf Shadow

by Madeline Baker

  The people of San Francisco were nothing if not inventive. He had heard that, in some places, two different companies managed to conduct business in the same building simply by switching workers and signs.

  From what he saw, it looked like the Chinese had dug in their heels and intended to stay. They resided in a mysterious, noisy section of town that was brightly decorated with calligraphy, brilliantly colored ribbons, and shops crammed with exotic foods, Oriental paraphernalia, and countless laundries, as well as half a dozen pharmacies, a Chinese theater, and several restaurants which were frequented by many non-Asian citizens.

  Chance had been told that most of the Negro population lived west of Montgomery Street, and that the majority of the men worked as laborers, mechanics, waiters, porters, barbers, and businessmen.

  Then there was the infamous Barbary Coast, a place Chance had often heard of but had no intention of visiting. It was said that any man fool enough to walk near the waterfront risked being shanghaied. More than one man had ventured into a bawdy house for a few hours of pleasure and woke in the hold of a ship bound for the Orient.

  Women were a minority in ‘Friso. Young men, eager to seek their fortunes, made up the bulk of the population. Still, like females everywhere, the women had managed to make their presence and their influence known. One of the first things they had done was see that gambling on Sunday was outlawed. But that was only one day of the week. Men with money in their pockets and time on their hands were eager for any diversion they could find. Horse races, cockfights, and bullfights were popular, along with drinking and whoring.

  Like any big city, there was an area where the wealthy lived and entertained. Chance had no trouble finding the affluent section of town, or finding out which of the houses belonged to Edward Bryant and his family.

  As he had suspected, the Bryants lived in one of the biggest houses on one of the biggest lots in the city.

  Reining Smoke to a halt in front of the fence that surrounded the property, Chance stared up at the place that could only be called a mansion. Damn, he’d known the Bryants had money, but he had never expected anything like this.

  He watched the house for half an hour or so, but no one came out and no went in. He was debating the wisdom of riding up to the front door and demanding to see Teressa when a closed carriage approached the gate. A liveried driver halted the team. He looked down his nose at Chance, jumped lightly to the ground and opened the gate. Regaining his seat, he picked up the reins and clucked to the horses and the carriage moved forward. When it was inside the gate, the driver halted the carriage, hopped down, and closed the gate with a flourish.

  Chance stared after the conveyance as it rolled up the long winding drive. He was pretty sure his presence would not be welcome here. If he decided to call on Teressa, would common courtesy dictate that the Bryants make him welcome, or would Edward have him thrown out on his ear?

  Perhaps, before he approached the Bryants, he needed to find a way to speak to Teressa alone and find out if her feelings for him had changed.

  He glanced up at the house again. He would never be able to offer her anything like this. Now that she was home again, now that she’d had a taste of the high life, she might not be so anxious to leave.

  With that in mind, he reined Smoke around and rode down the hill. He had some hard thinking to do.

  After settling the mare in a livery barn, Chance got a room at the nearest hotel and dropped off his luggage. Too restless to sit still, he left the hotel and made his way to the saloon across the street.

  Crossing the polished hardwood, he made his way to the bar, ordered a beer from a florid-faced man wearing a crisp white apron, then contemplated his reflection in the mirror behind the counter. How would he ever manage to get Teressa alone? He could send her a note asking her to meet him, but odds were that her mother would intercept the message. He could wait outside the gate, but he was pretty sure well-bred young ladies didn’t leave home unchaperoned.

  Damn.

  He glanced around the saloon, only then noticing that the place seemed to cater only to wealthy, well-dressed men clad in expensive city suits. There was no sawdust on the floor, no women in evidence, no paintings behind the bar of voluptuous females riddled with bullet holes from rowdy cowboys.

  He was sipping his brew when two men moved up to stand beside him. They nodded at him politely before ordering drinks.

  Without meaning to, Chance couldn’t help overhearing their conversation.

  “Martha said it’s going to be quite a blowout,” the first man said. “Buffet supper, dancing, cake and champagne.”

  “I don’t mind that, Dupre, but a fancy costume ball?” The second man shook his head. “The wife is all aflutter but I don’t much cotton to the idea of parading around in some ridiculous outfit.”

  “I’d parade around naked for a chance to meet Bryant’s daughter. Have you seen her? She’s a beauty.”

  The second man snorted. “That’s fine for you. You don’t have a wife and three kids.”

  Dupre laughed. “She could change all that, if she’ll have me.”

  “I don’t imagine old man Bryant is all that anxious to marry her off. After all, they’ve only just got her back.”

  “So, will I see you tomorrow, Hamilton?”

  Hamilton sighed heavily. “Likely you will. The wife’s talked about nothing else for days.”

  Chance drained his glass and left the saloon. A costume ball at the Bryants’ tomorrow night. He grinned into the gathering darkness as he headed for the hotel. As always, Lady Luck was smiling on him.

  * * * * *

  Music from the second floor wafted upward as Teressa smoothed a hand over her skirt. Didn’t her mother ever get tired of parties? Surely her mother could find something more productive to do with her time. Sometimes Teressa felt guilty for the indolent life she was living. With the Lakota, there had been little time to lay about. There had been wood and water to collect, food to prepare, clothes to make or mend, hides to tan, meat to butcher and dry. So many tasks, all of them necessary for survival. Here, life seemed to be nothing but a never-ending round of shopping and visiting, dining and dancing.

  She took a last look in the mirror, then, with a sigh, she left her bedroom and walked down the hallway to the stairway that led to the second floor ballroom. She had been opposed to a costume ball at first but now, dressed in a elaborate gown with her hair tucked up inside a wig and hiding behind a jeweled mask that covered most of her face, she found herself looking forward to it. She doubted if anyone would recognize her and she found the idea freeing somehow.

  The ballroom was already crowded. A king danced by with a unicorn, a queen waltzed by on the arm of a friar, a courtesan laughed behind her fan at something a knave had said, a bear danced with a fairy queen, a clown partnered a red-haired angel.

  The air was filled with music and laughter. People crowded around the buffet table, or sat at the small round tables scattered around the edge of the dance floor.

  The next hour passed in a blur as she danced with one partner after another. She was pleased that no one guessed her identity. As the evening wore on, she became aware that someone was watching her, someone wearing the guise of a Musketeer. Whether she was at the buffet table, being twirled around the floor, or sipping a glass of champagne, she had only to turn her head to find him nearby. It was disturbing and yet somehow exciting at the same time.

  It was near midnight when she slipped out onto the veranda for a bit of air. She heard no sound and yet she knew that the man who had been watching her was standing behind her.

  Pulse racing, she slowly turned to face him. A large hat with a curling brim and a feather sat atop his head at a rakish angle. There was a sword at his side, boots upon his feet.

  He took a step toward her. “May I have this dance?”

  His voice was little more than a whisper but she recognized it instantly. “Wolf! What are you doing here?”

  “What do you think?” He
held out his hand. “Dance with me?”

  Feeling as though she was in a dream, she moved into his arms, let him guide her in the steps of a waltz. He held her far closer than was proper but she didn’t care. It felt so good to be in his embrace, to know that he was there. Happiness bubbled up inside her. He had come for her! He did care.

  The music ended but he didn’t release her. She looked up at him as he drew her closer, felt her heart beat increase as he removed his mask and then hers and placed them on the railing.

  He whispered her name and then he lowered his head and claimed her lips with his own.

  Her eyelids fluttered down and she leaned into him, hungry for the feel of his body pressed against hers, eager for his kisses, desperate for his touch. His fingers splayed over her back, drawing her closer still, letting her feel the evidence of his desire.

  His tongue slid over her lower lip, dipped inside to slide over the silky softness within.

  Heat flared deep within her, sizzling along her nerve endings until she was quivering with need. Her moan was swallowed by his kisses.

  “Is there some place where we can be alone?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “Not here. Not tonight.”

  “Where?” He feathered kisses over her eyelids, her cheeks, the sensitive place behind her ear. “When?”

  “Tomorrow. I’m…” It was hard to think, hard to speak, with him kissing her so intimately. “I’m supposed to visit…an acquaintance.”

  “Go on.” He pressed a kiss to her breast.

  Heat spiraled through her. “Wait for me…at the bottom of…oh, Wolf.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, afraid her legs would no longer support her.

  “The bottom of what?”

  “The hill. I’ll be in the…the carriage…follow me…to her house.”

  He kissed her again, then moved away at the sound of voices.

  Teressa stared up at him.

  “We’re no longer alone,” he said quietly.

  “Oh!” She pressed her hands to her heated cheeks, then quickly replaced her mask.

  Chance slipped his mask over his face as well. “What time tomorrow?”

  “Two o’clock.”

  “I’ll be there,” he promised.

  Taking a deep breath, she returned to the ballroom.

  Chapter Thirty

  Teressa slept late the next morning. Dressing quickly, she hurried down to breakfast to find her parents already seated at the table.

  “Good morning, Mama,” she said, kissing her mother on the cheek. “Papa.” She kissed the top of his head, then took her place at the table. “Isn’t it a lovely day?”

  Her father looked at her over the top of his newspaper. “You seem unusually cheerful this morning,” he remarked. “Can this mean you’re finally beginning to like it here?”

  “I like it here very much,” she replied. Who wouldn’t like San Francisco? Even though she longed to be back with the Lakota, she had to admit that San Francisco was an exciting place to live. It was, after all, the tenth largest city in the United States, with an abundance of things to see and do. There were plush hotels, fancy restaurants, parks, churches, synagogues, schools, and libraries. She smiled inwardly, thinking that the city was even more exciting, now that Wolf was here.

  Her parents exchanged glances. “I see,” her father said. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Does this have something to do with the dance last night?”

  Before Teressa could answer, Mrs. Rochefort entered the room, bringing Teressa a cup of hot chocolate. Chocolate was one thing Teressa couldn’t seem to get enough of.

  Teressa smiled at the cook. “Good morning, Mrs. Rochefort,” she said. “I’m not very hungry today. Could you please bring me some buttered toast and a glass of orange juice?”

  “Right away, miss.”

  Rosalia waited until the cook left the room before leaning forward, her gaze intent upon Teressa’s face. “Did one of the young men at the ball catch your eye?”

  Teressa’s smile widened. “Yes. One did.”

  “Well,” her father asked rather gruffly, “might we know his name?”

  “Not right now, Papa.”

  “And just why not? I know all the young men who were present last evening. They were all invited in hopes you would find one to your liking. If one pleased you, I should very much like to know who it was.”

  “All in good time,” Teressa said. She placed her napkin in her lap as the cook set a plate in front of her. “Thank you, Mrs. Rochefort.”

  “Will there be anything else, Miss?”

  “Not right now.”

  With a nod, the cook left the room.

  “I do not like this secrecy, Tessa,” her mother said sternly.

  “I’m sorry, Mama. I’ll tell you soon, both of you, I promise.” She spread some strawberry marmalade on a triangle of toast and took a bite, then sipped her juice.

  Her parents looked at each other, disapproval evident in their expressions, but they said no more about it.

  Teressa looked up as the clock chimed the hour. Eleven-thirty. Two and a half hours until she saw him again. Just thinking about it made her stomach flutter with excitement and she pushed her plate away, too nervous to eat.

  Her parents made small talk as they lingered over breakfast. Teressa listened quietly, her thoughts on her coming meeting with Wolf Shadow. She shook her head. She would have to call him Chance here in the city, she thought, though he would always be Wolf Shadow as far as she was concerned.

  “Teressa?”

  She looked up, aware that her mother had said something to her.

  “I’m sorry, Mama, I wasn’t listening. What did you say?”

  “I asked if you are going to visit Cynthia today?” her mother asked.

  “Yes. We’re going shopping. I’m to be there at two.”

  “I’ll have Mason bring the carriage around,” her father said, rising. “I’ll see you both at dinner.”

  He paused beside Teressa’s chair and squeezed her shoulder. “Have a good day, my dear.”

  “Thank you, Papa.”

  Teressa rose from the table while her father kissed her mother goodbye. She didn’t want to be left alone with Rosalia, not now.

  Edward leaned down and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I may be late.”

  “We will wait dinner for you, Eduardo.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door, Papa,” Teressa said, and linking her arm with his, they left the room.

  She bid her father goodbye, then hurried up to her room and closed the door.

  Only two hours to get ready! Whatever would she wear?

  * * * * *

  Chance spent the early part of the afternoon satisfying his curiosity about the Barbary Coast. He had been warned by the clerk at the hotel to avoid the place at night, when the jay-hawkers, short-card sharps, rounders, pickpockets, prostitutes and their assistants were out and about, but he figured he’d be safe enough during the day.

  Strolling through the area bounded by Montgomery, Stockton, Washington and Broadway streets, one hand resting lightly on the butt of his gun, Chance got a glimpse of what the area was like after dark. Here and there, frowsy, overblown women stared at him from their seats just inside open doorways, a blatant invitation in their eyes. Chance had been warned to avoid these “dead-falls” as they were called, places where the bar was stocked with drugged whiskey. Beyond the open doorways, tawdry red and white curtains hung over arched doorways leading into backrooms he had no desire to see.

  He passed Chinese “coolies”, carrying bamboo poles balanced on their shoulders at every turn. He saw a number of Chinese women, as well, and couldn’t help staring at their odd clothing—loose blue or black cotton trousers and straight-cut sacques of broadcloth, satin, or cotton. The wealthier ones wore fancy satin slippers and gold or silver bracelets.

  He watched a couple of small black-skinned men with straight black hair and sharp black eyes carrying huge baskets on their heads. He had ne
ver seen black men before and he stared at them curiously, and grinned when they stared back. Equally curious, perhaps?

  It seemed every other building was a saloon, none of which seemed to be doing any business in the light of day. He glanced at the names as he passed by. “The Roaring Gimlet”, “ “The Bull’s Run”, “The Cock of the Walk”, the “Star of the Union”, and his favorite, “Every Man is Welcome”.

  The only life in the area seemed to come from a Chinese gambling house where loud music drifted out the door. He saw several rows of Chinese men sitting on long, low benches in a basement, all of them busily engaged in rolling cigars. The sign over the doorway proclaimed they were “choice brands of Havana and Domestic cigars”.

  Chance shook his head as he left the area. He’d been in some tough towns—Dodge, Kansas City, Hays, Deadwood—but the Barbary Coast beat them all.

  Swinging onto Smoke’s back, he left the Coast behind. It was one-thirty, and he didn’t want to be late.

  * * * * *

  Teressa sat close to the carriage window, her heart pounding. Would he be there? She leaned out the window as they reached the bottom of the hill. Was he here? She felt the first stirrings of disappointment when she didn’t see him, and then he rode out of the shadows between two buildings, a tall handsome man astride a big bay mare.

  As he left the alley, she saw that he was wearing a pair of brown whipcord trousers, new boots, and a dark green shirt. A black hat was pulled low on his forehead, his holster was strapped around his lean waist. He looked dark and dangerous and more handsome than ever.

  Teressa smiled and settled back in the seat as Chance fell in behind the carriage. Soon, she thought, soon she would be in his arms again.

  A short time later the carriage drew up in front of Cynthia Witherspoon’s house. Teressa alighted as soon as Mason opened the door and lowered the step.

  “Thank you, Mason.”

  “Shall I wait, Miss?”

  “That won’t be necessary. Take the day off, if you like. Just be back before dinner, say six o’clock?”

  “Yes, Miss, thank you, Miss.”