Before she had a chance to whirl and confront him, he caught her upper arm in a painful grip and began to propel her toward the door to her father’s private office.
Tess pummeled him with the fist of her free arm and tried to break free. “Let me go! What are you doing?”
“Just taking care of business like I told you,” he replied. Jerking open the door to the office, he shoved her through.
She stumbled forward, nearly losing her balance. The immediate slam of the door made more plaster rain down. The ominous clicking of the lock gave her chills.
Recovering and growing angry, Tess peered into the dusty gloom, afraid of what she might see. There was a strange-looking dark shape lying at the far end of the oriental rug.
“Papa!” She ran to him. Fell to her knees at his side. Touched his shoulder. He didn’t move.
Lather whitened the neck of Michael’s horse. He thanked God he’d saddled a fresh mount from the Clark stables when he’d fed and watered the weary team and turned them out into a paddock.
The horse’s shod hooves clattered on the cobblestones while Michael prayed the beast was as agile as it looked. This kind of speed was not only impulsive it was just plain reckless even on a good day, which this certainly was not.
As he neared the bank he could see something happening out in front. Although he wasn’t particularly surprised to spy the dislikable dandy who pleased Gerald Clark so much, he wondered where the older man had gone. His fondest hope was that Tess had joined her father and that they were both safely away from the danger. Then he noticed Clark’s abandoned motorcar and his heart sank.
Leaping off the horse before it had slid to a full stop, Michael grabbed Phineas by the shirtfront. “Where’s Tess?”
“You’re the one who said you were taking care of her. What’s the matter? Did you lose her?”
“She said she was coming here,” Michael shouted. “Now where is she?”
The wiry man didn’t answer. Michael saw his beady eyes dart first to the bank doorway, then aside to the street where the automobile sat, then back to the bank. That was his answer! Tess was in the bank.
Michael flinched and ducked as an explosion less than a block away shook the ground and loosened even more of the bricks and stone that had not fallen in the original earthquake or its aftermath.
Casting his odious captive aside like useless rubbish, he raced into the bank. “Tess! Where are you? Answer me!”
A second explosion drowned out any reply there might have been and brought down a fresh rain of plaster.
Before that echo had died, Michael was already twisting the knob on the door that displayed her father’s name and title. It didn’t open.
“Tess!” He banged with his fists. “Tess, are you in there?”
“Yes! Look out for Phineas,” she shouted. “He locked us up.”
Michael whirled, expecting an attack. Instead, he saw the loaded wagon driving away with Phineas Edgerton holding the reins and cracking a whip over the backs of the team.
“Stand away from the door,” Michael yelled, pausing only a second before he added, “Are you back?”
“Yes. Hurry!”
One swift kick with the flat of his boot was all it took to spring the latch and free the prisoners.
Tess immediately threw herself into his arms and clung tightly while her groggy father leaned against the jamb for support and mopped his brow.
The older man’s head was bleeding slightly and he looked ashen but Michael was satisfied all would be well—until he heard G.B. order, “Get your hands off my daughter.”
“No, Father, no.” Tess continued to hold fast to her heroic fireman. “Michael is rescuing us. It was Phineas who locked us in.”
“That’s impossible. The Edgertons have impeccable breeding. One of theirs would never do such a thing. You’ve misunderstood. Phineas is merely helping me preserve the bank’s funds.”
Pointing to the now-empty street, Michael disagreed. “Oh, really? Then where is your wonderful vice president and where is your money?”
It should have gratified Michael to see the older man’s shoulders droop as reality dawned. Instead, he actually felt sorry for him.
Gerald rubbed his sore scalp, noticed traces of blood and used the handkerchief to tend to the wound. “I thought another earthquake had knocked me out but now I wonder. I don’t remember a thing after I walked into my office.”
“He must have hit you from behind.” Tess released her hold on Michael enough to give her father’s arm a brief pat. “Come with us. I have a tidy little camp set up in the park. We’ll look after you.”
It was clear to Michael from the narrowing of the banker’s eyes and the way he was staring into the street that he had no intention of letting Edgerton escape. In this terrible confusion, however, successfully following anyone would be next to impossible.
Placing a light kiss on the top of Tess’s head, Michael sighed and delivered his own bad news. “I can’t go with you, remember? I have to report this morning.” He looked to the older man. “Will you take Tess back to the park?”
Although Clark’s reply was neither quick nor firm, he finally nodded and said, “Yes.”
Satisfied, Michael cupped Tess’s face in his hands and tilted it up for one last kiss. He didn’t care if her father had an apoplectic fit over it, he was going to bid the love of his life a proper goodbye.
His mouth was tender yet demanding, almost desperate, she noted, as if he feared that this might be their last touch, last kiss.
The emotional turmoil bubbling inside Tess brought to mind words she had not intended to speak—at least not until she and Michael had calmly discussed their mutual feelings. Her lips parted. Trembled. Looking directly into his eyes, she whispered, “I love you.”
Moisture sparkled in the depths of his dark gaze. He froze and stared at her. “I…”
To Tess’s dismay he never finished the sentence, never told her he loved her in return. Instead, he whirled and strode away.
Michael’s abrupt departure left her totally confused. How could he just walk off like that? Hadn’t he heard what she’d said? Didn’t he care? In her deepest heart she was certain he loved her, so why hadn’t he spoken the words?
She felt her father’s hand at her elbow. Blinking back tears, she managed a wan smile for his benefit.
“Come on,” Gerald said. “I’ll drive you back to the park in my automobile.”
Tess could tell from his tone and posture that that was not at all what he wanted to do. “If I weren’t here, would you go after Phineas instead?”
The older man shrugged, clearly disheartened. “I don’t know. Perhaps.”
“Then let’s.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t belong out on the streets in the middle of all this. Don’t worry. I’ll look after you.” He smiled slightly. “After all, I did promise your young man.”
“He is, you know. My young man, I mean,” Tess said, blushing. “I know he’s not highborn or rich, the way you wanted, but I love him dearly.”
Blowing out a noisy sigh, Gerald nodded. “Well, I guess we can forget about you marrying Edgerton in any case.” He wiped his brow and blotted his eyes with the crumpled handkerchief. “I can’t believe how fooled I was. Thank goodness you didn’t take to him the way I’d hoped you would.”
Tess huffed. “I loathed that odious man from the first moment I met him.”
“You did?”
“Yes. The things I learned at the suffragette meetings have helped me stand up for myself.” She smiled when she saw her father’s bewildered expression. “Don’t look so shocked, Papa. All I mean is that I now trust in myself, know my own mind and stick to what I feel is right. That leaves Phineas out in the cold.”
She laughed softly at the imagined image of the skinny, supercilious fop literally shivering from the cold shoulders she’d already given him. There was no man for her except Michael Mahoney and she knew it—all the way from the top of her
head to her toes.
“Besides,” Tess said, growing dreamy eyed as she pictured Michael, “I prefer gallant firemen.”
“Is that what the young man does for a living?” Gerald asked. He cupped her elbow, gestured at the door and started to escort her toward his waiting motorcar. “He’s Mary Mahoney’s son, too, isn’t he?”
“Yes, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have for a mother-in-law.”
“You two have discussed matrimony, then?”
Tess sobered. “No. Not yet. But we shall.” She colored slightly. “I’m sure Michael will do the right thing and ask you for my hand.”
“Let’s hope so.” Gerald brushed soot and ash off the upholstery on the automobile’s passenger seat before assisting her into it, then walked to the front of the car to crank the starter.
Before he could bend to begin, Tess stopped him by adding, “I want to marry for love, Father. I don’t want to count on it developing later, the way it did for you and Mama.”
It was immediately clear, judging by the befuddled look on his face, that her conclusions had been correct. Her poor father had never viewed his marriage as a love match. She saw his lower lip quiver.
“It’s true,” Tess insisted before he could argue. “Mama loved you dearly. I read all about it in her journal.”
He stared. Blinked rapidly. Took a deep, shuddering breath, then said simply, “Thank you.”
This was the perfect moment to speak her mind, to tell him the rest of the things she’d planned to say. Nevertheless, Tess’s pride and the memories of his past rejection almost stopped her—until she thought of how Jesus had always taught his followers to forgive.
Emboldened by her faith and the knowledge that what she was about to do and say was right, she added, “And I love you, too, Papa.”
The changing expression on her father’s lined, weary face was a combination of tenderness and awe. He was clearly thunderstruck, so much so that his jaw dropped.
Like Michael, he didn’t choose to return her profession of affection but in this instance Tess was satisfied. Papa had loved Mama and he loved her, too, in his own way. Although he had never been a demonstrative man, he harbored deep feelings, feelings that now shone in his countenance.
That will do, she concluded, basking in a sense of familial belonging that she had never known before. Both her parents had done their best. The only truly sad thing was that Mama had passed on without knowing how much Papa had cared for her.
Tess vowed she would never allow that to happen with Michael. She would tell him every day how much she adored him. And he would hold her in his arms the way he had a few moments ago and…
A lump in her throat and a rapid pulse signaled the rise of the lingering fear she’d kept denying. Her last glimpse of Michael Mahoney might have been the final one she’d ever have. He was about to enter the belly of the beast, to stand and fight a fire that had already consumed a third of the city or more.
Given the terrible ongoing danger and the lack of proper tools with which to wage that battle in spite of the influx of engines and men from Oakland and other cities, he might not survive long enough to become her husband.
Chapter Seventeen
A portion of the fire had jumped Van Ness at California and Powell streets and was climbing the side of Nob Hill by the time Michael joined his fresh crew. They all donned leather helmets and heavy canvas coats.
“You’re in charge of this team, Mahoney,” Chief Walters ordered, gesturing at the horses hitched three abreast in front of the steam-powered pumper. “We don’t know if there’s any water left east of Van Ness but the navy has fireboats working the docks so I’m sending you and some of the others up Powell. Do the best you can. And God help you.”
Michael nodded, his mouth dry, his nerves taut. He’d definitely done the right thing when he’d moved his mother out of the Clark mansion. It sounded as though they might soon lose their battle to preserve the expensive homes of the city’s most affluent residents.
“That’s no different than losing Rose Dugan’s house,” he muttered to himself, knowing he was right. Any person’s home and possessions were valuable to them, no matter how little monetary investment was involved. Perhaps if the fire departments had had more ready equipment and manpower to wage war on this disaster in all areas of the city in the first place, the conflagration wouldn’t have spread so far and gotten so out of hand. Then again, no one could possibly have foreseen a battle like this.
He climbed aboard the engine, set a booted foot on the brake and threaded the pairs of reins between his fingers so he could control each individual horse. The snorting, pawing, sweaty team was more than eager to be off.
“Ready, men?” Michael shouted back at his crew.
When he was answered with a chorus of affirmative shouts he snapped the reins, gave the horses their heads and braced himself as they lunged ahead, blowing hard and straining to get the heavy engine rolling.
Michael had little chance to do more than skillfully guide the team but he did manage to see, as they drew nearer to Nob Hill, that several mansions had already been reduced to smoldering ruins.
Above them the newly built but never opened Fairmont Hotel, which had been billed as the jewel of the city, was starting to look as if every window was brightly curtained in dancing, deadly orange and red.
He shouted to the horses. They kept up the frantic pace, the pumper careening left and right as they dodged debris littering the streets.
For the first time in the past few days Michael’s mind was too occupied by the task at hand to return to thoughts of Tess more than occasionally. He was approaching a staging area where other engines and crews had massed to make a stand against the fire’s progress.
“Whoa,” he shouted to the team. “Whoa, boys. That’s it. Easy, now.”
Bringing his rig to a stop at the edge of the group, he called down, “Where do you want us?”
The chilling answer wasn’t long in coming. A sooty, sweaty fireman looked up at him and shook his head sadly, somberly, his shoulders slumping as if he were on his last legs.
“I wish I knew,” the man called back. “You boys might as well spit on that fire. We just ran out of water in the last cistern.”
Tess sat beside her father as he drove cautiously toward the park. She could tell he was pondering something important because now and then his brow would furrow or his lips would form a grimace.
“Are you angry at me, Father?” she finally asked.
“What?” He looked astonished. “Of course not. What gave you that idea?”
“The look on your face,” she explained. “I was afraid you might be blaming me for the fact that Phineas got away.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault. If I’d heeded your opinion in the first place he might not have fooled me so completely.”
“You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Tess said tenderly. “After all, you only know what you learned growing up.” That comment made her father snort derisively, much to her surprise and puzzlement.
He glanced at her. “You really don’t know the whole story, do you?”
“Story of what?”
“The struggles of my youth. I didn’t have a dime to my name until I married your mother. She brought her fortune into our family. All I did was invest it wisely and make it grow.”
“You—you mean you weren’t born rich?”
“Hardly. We were dirt poor when I was a boy. Why do you think I cared so much that you had all the best of everything? I didn’t want you to struggle the way I had.”
“What about your parents?”
“They died when I was in my teens, just as I always told you. What I didn’t say was that I apprenticed myself to my future father-in-law at his bank in Philadelphia. That was how I learned the business and eventually met and married your mother.”
“You were like Phineas! No wonder you thought he’d be perfect for me.”
Gerald made a sour face. “I hadn’t t
hought of it quite that way but I suspect you may be right.”
“We shouldn’t let him get away, you know.” Tess had been checking side streets as they drove and although she had not seen any sign of the grocery wagon she was still hopeful. “What if we drove around a little before we headed for the park? There’s always a chance we might catch a glimpse of him. I don’t have a pistol with me but I don’t think he was armed, either.”
The astonishment on her father’s face quickly became thoughtful. “I suppose there would be no particular danger as long as we stayed in the car and stuck to areas that have already burned.”
“Exactly. Do you have enough fuel?”
“I poured in another gallon when I stopped at the bank. We should be fine for a while.”
Tess began to grin. “In that case, let’s go find that wagon and see that Phineas gets what’s coming to him.
“What about your young man? We promised…”
“You promised. I didn’t,” Tess said, grinning. “Besides, Michael has his hands full right now. If we decide to take a little detour it won’t matter to him. Not as long as we eventually end up at the park as planned.”
Gerald gave her a look that was almost respectful, although Tess was sorry it had taken a series of tragedies to bring it about. She might physically resemble her late mother but that was where the similarities ended. She was smart and strong-willed, just like her father, and it was high time he gave her credit for having backbone.
Michael had helped his fellows stretch a hose line all the way from the bay. His engine and others like it had been hooked in tandem to pump the seawater up the hills but he knew the breakdown of even one engine in the line would mean failure of the entire operation.
Now he could see flames licking the sides of the Huntington mansion. Crocker’s place was next. Worse, the streets around Nob Hill were once again teeming with evacuees, folks who had not seen fit to leave earlier when their passage to safety would have been relatively easy.
Rescuing the Heiress Page 16
