Then, as Tess observed more and more of the damage and heard survivors keening over the bodies of the dead and dying, she wilted. Tears blurred her vision. Awe and fear filled her heart.
One hand gripped the side of the seat, her knuckles white from the sheer force of her grasp.
When she opened her mouth to speak, her voice was tremulous. “Oh, dear God,” she said prayerfully, “help these poor people.”
Beside her, she sensed the intensity emanating from Michael. It wasn’t only the muscle power he was employing to handle the nervous horse amid such chaos, it was far more. His entire persona was as tight as a drum, his large, capable hands fisting the reins as if they were about to be snatched from him by a malevolence beyond imagining.
Tess could finally understand what he had been trying to tell her back at the house. This devastation was beyond human comprehension. Looking at what was left of the once-familiar streets and neighborhoods, Tess wondered how anyone, anywhere, could have survived.
Chapter Eleven
Michael would have done almost anything to keep Tess and her maid from having to view all this carnage but since they had insisted on coming, he figured it was best if he stayed with them as long as possible.
He had originally thought that the screaming during and immediately after the quake had been the worst part. Now that he was back in the thick of it, however, he realized that the murmuring, moaning and pockets of eerie silence could be just as bad.
Some men, women and children roamed the littered streets as if in a daze, barely cognizant of their surroundings while others were already lugging trunks and other belongings down the streets toward the railway station, the docks or the ferry terminals.
“You should have turned back there,” Tess said, pointing. “Mrs. Dugan lives on Geary Street.”
“We can’t get through that way,” Michael replied. “I tried earlier. Whole teams and wagons are buried under deep piles of rubble. The drivers are probably trapped beneath tons of bricks, too.”
“Oh, my.”
“That’s not all,” Michael went on. “Look over there. See all those loose wires hanging down?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because they may be very dangerous, depending on whether they’re electric, telegraph or telephone lines.” He cast her a sober glance, meaning it to serve as a warning. Instead, she grasped his arm and held tight.
“Then you will be in terrible danger. How will all the rescuers manage?”
“I don’t know. Let’s take one crisis at a time,” Michael said. It was his fervent hope that they’d quickly locate Annie’s mother so he could be on his way again. He wasn’t ready to think further ahead than that. The prospects were too demoralizing.
He carefully maneuvered the buggy through the rubble as far as possible, then stopped and climbed down. “Come with me. We’ll go the rest of the way on foot.”
“But what about Father’s rig? If I abandon it he’ll be furious.”
“Suit yourself.” Michael was already starting to unhitch his horse. “If I were him, I’d be more concerned about my family. Where was he this morning, anyway? I didn’t notice him when I was at the house.”
“Your mother said he took some of the servants and went to check his bank. He takes that responsibility very seriously.”
“Ah, so that’s why he wasn’t underfoot giving orders. I wondered why we didn’t hear him bellowing when you decided to make this trek.”
“He would have understood. He might even have come along to help us.”
Although Michael strongly doubted that Gerald Bell Clark was that altruistic he chose to keep his opinion to himself. So far Tess seemed to be going along with his sensible suggestions pretty amiably and the last thing he wanted to do was antagonize her.
Continuing to unhitch while his passengers retrieved cargo, Michael quickly led the horse out from between the shafts and tied up the long driving reins so they wouldn’t foul or drag. He fastened a few bundles of their meager supplies to the horse’s harness as Tess handed them to him.
“Are you sure Father’s rig will be all right here?” she asked, hefting one of the picnic baskets Mary had prepared for them and leaning to one side for balance as she carried it.
Michael almost laughed at her naïveté. “Look around you. Do you think something like that really matters?”
“No,” she said, sighing poignantly. “I suppose it doesn’t.” She looked to Annie. “I can’t quite tell where we are. Is your mother’s house close by?”
“Yes. Follow me,” Annie said, taking the lead by stepping over more rubble in the street and wending her way west.
Finally, she paused and pointed. “There it is. See? The gray house with the porch that’s fallen into the street.”
Foreboding gripped Michael. Could anyone have lived through the crashing force of that building’s collapse? Sure, Annie had survived—and so had most of the other firemen who’d been asleep in the station house with him this morning, so he figured anything was possible. It just wasn’t very likely.
“Where were you when it happened?” Tess asked Annie.
“Sleeping. Mama made me a pallet in the parlor.”
That was apparently the portion of the home that was partially propped up on broken, misplaced rafters, Michael noted. The rear section, however, lay nearly flat on the ground.
He led the horse as close as he could, then hitched it to a lamppost, hoping it wouldn’t run off if more tremors occurred.
Tess and Annie were already approaching the tumble-down house. Michael caught up to them.
“I was right there,” Annie said, pointing with a trembling finger. “See? There’s the corner of the gray blanket I was sleeping on.”
“Where was your mother’s room?” he asked.
Annie stared, wide-eyed. “Over there. Under the part of the roof that’s on the ground.”
“All right. We’ll move as much loose lumber as we can and see if we can tell anything. If we still can’t, we’ll hitch the horse to the main rafters to pull them off. There’s no other way we can possibly budge anything that big ourselves.”
“But what if Mrs. Dugan is trapped under there?”
Tess asked, grabbing his arm and halting him. “We can’t move too much until we’re sure we won’t be hurting her.”
It was an effort for him to ignore Tess’s touch even though the sleeve of his shirt lay between them. “One decision at a time,” Michael said, pulling away. “You two start over there nearer the street. I’ll take this section because of the heavier timbers.”
To his relief, both women hiked their long skirts to their boot tops and waded into the debris without further questioning of his authority.
When he heard Tess say, “Come on, Annie. I’ll pass the pieces to you and you can toss them into the street,” he wondered if she knew why he had assigned the tasks the way he had. Perhaps. He wanted to be the one to clear this section because he was relatively certain that Annie’s mother lay beneath it. He couldn’t protect the poor girl from the loss of a loved one but he could at least soften the initial blow by not letting Annie be the one to uncover the remains.
Tess was giving him a telling, sidelong glance and she nodded slightly when he looked over at her. She did know. And she, too, was trying to protect Annie. In spite of the dire circumstances, that conclusion warmed Michael’s heart and made him proud. Not everyone who preached equality practiced it. Tess did both.
Tess’s long, loose tresses were not only getting caught on the refuse as she labored, the hair that lay draped over her neck and shoulders was making her beastly hot. She drew the back of her wrist across her forehead to sweep away perspiration, hoping her face wasn’t half as gritty as it felt.
Straightening to stretch her aching back, she sniffed something odd on the air. There was the usual scent of the ocean, as well as odors from countless other unpleasant sources, but this was different. This was far worse.
She glanced at Annie and saw th
at the girl was also wide-eyed with concern. What about Michael?
“Hey!” Tess shouted over at him. “Do you smell smoke?”
He whirled. “Yes. Get out of here.”
Instead, Tess hurried to his side by stepping on what was left of the porch roof. “No. Let us help you.”
“You can’t do anything. Look.” He pointed to puffs of smoke starting to rise from what was left of a nearby building. “It’s liable to be too late in a few minutes. That fire’s close and the wind’s blowing this way.”
Annie covered her face with her apron and began to sob hysterically while Tess tore at the remaining broken boards that still covered the area where Rose Dugan had lain.
“Go get my horse and back him in here,” Michael shouted, grabbing Tess’s shoulders and giving her a turn and a push to start her in the right direction. “We can’t delay any longer.”
“What if Annie’s mother is alive under there?”
“Then we’ll get her out, God willing. We can’t leave her to burn to death.”
“Where’s the fire department? Why don’t they come?”
“The stations that weren’t destroyed have to be fighting as many fires as they can handle already,” Michael said, gritting his teeth and grabbing another armload of splintered wood. “Hurry up with that horse.”
Tess couldn’t fault the overwhelmed and undersupplied professional firemen who were risking their lives to try to save what was left of the city. She simply hoped and prayed that her meager efforts would be sufficient to help rescue the tiny sliver of suffering humanity that was currently relying upon the three of them.
“Dear God,” she murmured, directing her plea heavenward as she tugged on the bridle of the stalwart fire horse and urged it to enter the field of splintered boards, “Show us where to look? Where to pull? Please?”
No booming, divine voice echoed from the sky but Tess nevertheless felt a sudden sense of peace and surety.
She turned the animal, gathered the harness traces and passed them to Michael, then watched as he fastened the ends around the nearest heavy beam.
The makeshift rig was ready in seconds. It was now or never.
Michael signaled and shouted, “Pull!”
Tess gritted her teeth, hiked a handful of skirt, grasped the horse’s reins just below the bit and pulled as she shouted, “Git up! Go!”
The big gray leaned into the task, his muscles bunching, the leading edges of his wide front hooves digging in.
At first, nothing budged. Then she felt the load he was hauling give way and shift. He edged forward.
Afraid to look back, almost afraid to breathe, Tess continued to lead him slowly away, step by cautious step.
When she heard Michael shout, “Stop! I see her!” with such evident passion and exuberance, she whirled and stared. “Is she…?”
“She’s alive,” he yelled. “She’s moving!”
Overcome, Tess leaned against the horse’s neck and began to silently thank God.
Annie helped her mother crawl out from under her bed and Michael swung Rose into his arms so she wouldn’t have to try to walk through the rubble.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
The older woman was both weeping and grinning as she clung to her daughter’s hand. “Fine, fine.” She cast a fond look at Annie. “I knew you’d find me.”
“Tess helped,” Annie said. “And Michael. I couldn’t have done it without them.”
“Then thank you. All of you,” Rose said, half sobbing.
Michael was pleased to see that the older woman seemed to be in good condition, especially considering the fact that she’d had half a house sitting on her for several hours.
Tess was apparently just as surprised as he was because she quickly joined them to share a hug with Annie and ask, “What happened? How did she survive?”
Michael answered, “The old, solid oak bed she slept in supported the rafters enough that they didn’t bear down on her. She’s scratched and bruised but otherwise every bit as well as she claims to be.”
“Prayers were answered,” Tess said.
“Amen to that.” They had reached the horse and he paused with his burden while Tess took its bridle to lead. “We’ll hitch up the wagon again. I want you all to go to a refugee center and get checked out,” Michael said, concentrating on Tess. “Mrs. Dugan needs to see a doctor and you may have injured your hands when you were digging.”
“I agree about the doctor for Rose,” Tess said. “But Annie and I are fine.” Her brow knit. “I don’t suppose she’ll want to leave her mother, though. I can understand that. If my own were still alive I’d want to be with her.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll carry Mrs. Dugan back to the buggy so she can ride while you lead the horse to keep him calm. Can you manage that?”
“Yes, but I should be getting home,” Tess said.
To Michael’s ears she didn’t sound nearly as convinced as she usually did when she made a declaration like that. “Why? Your father may not come back for days. Not if he’s as worried about the money in his bank as you think he is. Besides, my mother knows where you went and why. If Mr. Clark asks, she can assure him that you’re fine.”
“Am I fine?” Tess asked softly.
It concerned him to hear less and less strength in her speech, to see the sparkle leave her beautiful green eyes. Clearly, she was exhausted yet unwilling to admit how weary she was.
“You will be,” Michael told her. He was relieved to note that the Clarks’ buggy was right where they’d abandoned it. The only things missing were a few household items from the back that they hadn’t taken with them.
He placed Rose Dugan gently on the seat and assisted Annie aboard so she could sit close to her mother and steady her. Tess had already backed the horse between the shafts and was starting to hitch it to the tugs and breeching straps when he finished getting the others settled.
“Here, let me do that,” Michael said, rushing to her aid. “You’re tired.”
“I may be tired but I’m not helpless,” Tess insisted.
He might have backed off then, if he hadn’t seen her trembling and sensed how close she was to losing control of her emotions.
Instead, he took those dainty hands in his and gently held them still. “I will never think that of you. This ordeal has been a terrible strain on everyone. If you won’t rest for your own sake, do it for Annie and Rose. You need to be strong to look after them.”
“I’ll manage.”
“I know you will.” He turned slightly so Tess could see past him. “Look at their house. Even if Rose isn’t badly injured she may be too upset to function. They’ll need someone who is both intelligent and levelheaded. They’ll need you.”
He smiled, wishing their circumstances were different so he could take Tess in his arms and comfort her the way Annie and Rose were comforting each other.
To Michael’s delight, a wan smile began to lift the corners of Tess’s mouth. She nodded. “I do understand. You’re saying that this is only the beginning of our trials, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
When she raised tear-filled eyes to him, sighed and took a step closer, he gave in and opened his arms to embrace her.
Tess slipped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest.
There they stood, out in the open in full view of what was left of San Francisco, and Michael didn’t care a whit what anyone else thought. The only thing he really dreaded was the next few moments when he knew he’d have to force himself to leave her. How could he act nonchalant when he was dying inside at the mere thought of it?
Tess seemed to sense his emotional withdrawal because she leaned away enough to look up at him. “What will you do now? You said your station was destroyed. Where will you go to work?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Michael replied. “I was on my way to find Chief Sullivan and get new orders for Station #4 when Annie waylaid me. He’s a good man. If anyone can coordinat
e this fight and win it, Dennis Sullivan can.”
“I saw a lot of water running down the streets,” Tess said. “Will there be enough left in the main lines to put out the fires?”
“I don’t know.” Michael gazed into her lovely face, ignoring the smudges on her cheeks and the tangles in her flyaway hair.
Sadly, he understood far more about what was happening than Tess did. He might never see her again. Might never have another chance to bend lower and kiss her.
Even if she slapped his face for taking such liberties it would be worth it to try, he decided. Then if he had to enter eternity this very day, he could do so remembering the sweet taste of her lips.
He gently threaded his fingers through her long hair and cradled the back of her head. She was staring at him as if she yearned for what he was about to do. At least he thought so.
Slowly, as if handling fragile porcelain, Michael canted his head to the side and felt her arms tightening around his waist.
The brush of her warm, soft lips against his sent a shock wave through him like lightning arcing over the bay during a violent storm. His emotions became the ocean waves, his heart the pounding surf.
He sensed Tess rising on tiptoe to prolong their kiss, deepening and intensifying it until they were both left breathless.
When he finally set her away by grasping her shoulders, he could tell that she was every bit as staggered, as overcome with emotion, as he was. “I’m…”
Tess reached up and pressed her fingertips over his mouth to silence him. “Don’t spoil it by saying you’re sorry, Michael. Please don’t.”
He kissed the fingers caressing his lips then grasped her wrist and placed a second kiss in her palm before closing her hand. “There. Keep that one for whenever you feel lonely.”
“I am always lonely when you’re not with me,” Tess said, unshed tears glistening.
Afraid to reply for fear he might disgrace himself by weeping openly, he put an arm around her shoulders and ushered her closer to where the horse waited.
Rescuing the Heiress Page 11
