Beyond the Ashes

by Karen Barnett

  The ferry eased to a stop, the passengers collecting their belongings. Ruby lifted her bag and clumsy wicker basket and clutched the items before her as she joined the stream of passengers jostling their way to the front. At the plank, a porter reached for the basket.

  “No, I’ll hold this. Thank you.” She offered the carpetbag instead, and the man grasped it with a nod before assisting her to the dock.

  Ruby froze as the crowd pushed past her. The stench of ashes lingered in the air. Beyond the hundreds of voices, she could hear a cacophony of hammers and saws.

  “Miss?” The porter held the bag toward her, a frown dragging down his bushy moustache.

  Ruby transferred the awkward container to her left hand and reached for the bag with her right, trying not to stare at the man whose face resembled a walrus minus tusks. She stumbled a few steps forward before lowering the rectangular carton to the ground and grappling with her wrap, pulling it tight around her shoulders. She swiveled her gaze from side to side, overcome with the image of the city as a giant anthill, carelessly kicked over by a mischievous child.

  She didn’t belong here. A wave of emotion swept over her. Charlie, why’d you have to buy the fool horse, anyway? Ruby stepped close to the basket, brushing it with her shoe tips. She shouldn’t have allowed Miriam to bully her into making new plans. It wasn’t her place to save the world. She should be home where life remained predictable and secure. And boring.

  Ruby tucked a stray curl under her hat before grasping the wicker handle and hoisting it up over her arm. She straightened her posture, willing confidence into her steps. She’d come to help the people of San Francisco. And poor Robert, slaving away in this broken carcass of a city. No more talk of weddings and babies. Robert was clearly too immersed in his work for such nonsense. It still seemed remarkable her impish baby brother would grow up to be a doctor like their father. If only she’d been a boy.

  A shout from the distance drew her attention.

  “Ruby!” Robert pushed through the crowd, arms extended.

  Ruby dropped the bags and fell into his arms. “I am so relieved to see you. This place is such a mess.”

  He laughed. “This is nothing, Sis. You should have seen it a month ago.” He pulled her into an embrace so tight it lifted her off her feet.

  Robert’s touch crumbled the last of her resolve and tears stung at her eyes. “It’s a joy to see your face.” She squeezed his arm. “I can’t believe I’m actually here. We’ve been so worried about you. It’s been months since we received your last letter. Mother is irate.” A shiver rushed through her and her voice trembled. “Why haven’t you written, you lout?” She dug into her pocket for a handkerchief.

  Her brother laughed, pressing a silk square into her hand. “I’m fine, Ruby. I’ve been a little busy.” His face lit up in a huge boyish smile. “Just wait until you hear all my news. You’ll forgive me in a heartbeat.”

  “Never. There can be no excuse for keeping us all wondering. I’m sure you’re not at the hospital every hour of the day. Certainly you could have spared a moment to write.”

  He pushed his chocolate-brown derby to the back of his head, a familiar puckish grin lighting his face.

  She took a step back and studied him. Shadows under Robert’s eyes showed the effects of the disaster and his difficult work—these she’d expected—but his expression also contained a spark of unspoken delight. He didn’t look the part of a lonely, overworked bachelor.

  Robert stepped to one side, revealing a well-dressed man and woman standing directly behind him.

  Ruby dabbed at her reddened eyes, a wave of heat crawling up her neckline beneath the collar of her traveling jacket.

  The man flashed a disarming smile, his Bristol-blue eyes causing Ruby’s breath to leak from her chest. Fine lines around his mouth spoke of a life filled with either worry or laughter.

  Ruby glanced down, awash with emotions after the long, exhausting trip. She certainly wasn’t going to swoon over a man, even if his eyes were a dead-ringer for her Charlie. Especially because of that.

  Robert clasped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Ruby, this is Dr. Gerald Larkspur, my mentor and friend. I’ve written to you about him, right?” He turned his attention toward Dr. Larkspur. “Gerald, may I present my sister, Mrs. Ruby Marshall?”

  Ruby reached her hand out to the doctor, noticing too late she still clutched the damp handkerchief.

  Dr. Larkspur took her fingers, with only a quick glance at the fabric crushed between their palms. With his other hand, he touched the brim of his black hat. “It is an honor to meet you, Mrs. Marshall. But your brother does himself a disservice. I can’t be called a mentor any longer. He’s left me in the dust, I’m afraid. I keep reminding him, we’re partners now.”

  Ruby bobbed her head, giving herself a second to string words together into a polite greeting. “Dr. Larkspur—the honor is mine. My brother has spoken most highly of you.” She retrieved her hand and tucked the handkerchief into her sleeve, casting a final glance at the man’s eyes. Not exactly like Charlie’s. A tad darker. She pushed the memory from her mind.

  Ruby directed her gaze at the young woman hovering near her brother’s other arm. Mrs. Larkspur, perhaps? The woman glanced up at Robert, her sweetly freckled cheeks sporting a light blush. Ruby’s stomach crawled up into her throat. Oh, no. Please, no.

  “Ruby,” her brother turned back to her. “I’d like to introduce you to someone very special.”

  Ruby fought the urge to cover her ears and run screaming back to the ferry.

  Robert cleared his throat, his eyes warming as he gazed at the young woman. “This is Miss Abby Fischer. Abby is Dr. Larkspur’s cousin . . .” his words rushed toward her like an engine roaring down the track, “. . . and my fiancée.”

  3

  Gerald toyed with the watch chain hidden in his pocket as he studied the young woman standing on the dock. As a confirmed bache-lor, he never considered himself a good judge of female emotions, but the woman’s pinched brows and puckered lips suggested Robert’s announcement was something akin to the taste of quinine.

  Mrs. Marshall clutched her bag against her midsection, her pale blue eyes growing wider by the second. “Your—your fiancée?”

  Robert darted a quick glance at Abby before focusing on his sister. “I’m sorry to spring this on you, Ruby. I only received your letter a few days ago, so I didn’t have time to write. I had hoped to bring Abby home to meet everyone.”

  Gerald’s cousin took a step backward, bumping into his elbow. “I shouldn’t have come. I ought to have let Robert get you settled in first.”

  Gerald brushed his hand against Abby’s back. Since her family had moved to San Francisco, he’d stepped into the role of protective older sibling. If Robert’s sister dared say one unkind word to Abby, she’d have to deal with him.

  Robert latched onto his fiancée’s arm. “It was my idea. I couldn’t wait to introduce you.” He cleared his throat. “Abby, may I present my sister, Mrs. Ruby Marshall?”

  Mrs. Marshall’s mouth opened and closed like a fish in a glass bowl. She reached up and tucked a curling wisp of red hair behind her ear.

  Gerald’s eyes traveled down to her other hand, clenching the folds of her blue skirt just below her tiny waist. He forced his gaze upward in time to spot the color draining from her heart-shaped face. She’s going to faint.

  Gerald took a swift step forward and put a hand on the woman’s arm. “Mrs. Marshall—”

  Robert had also spotted the sudden shift in his sister’s demeanor and caught her other elbow. “Ruby?”

  “Robert, there’s a bench behind you.” Gerald gripped Mrs. Marshall’s hand and motioned with his head. “Let’s sit her down. Shall we?”

  Mrs. Marshall’s arm stiffened, resisting his attempt to steer her to the seat. “No, thank you, Dr. Larkspur. I feel . . . it’s been a long . . .” her voice faltered. “I’m fine now, thank you.” She turned to her brother. “I’m sorry, Robert. I’m a
bit overwrought from the trip.” She pulled her fingers from Gerald’s grasp and clamped her mouth into a tight-lipped smile, directing her gaze back to her brother. “You’re getting married? Why it’s—it’s wonderful news. I am so pleased.”

  Gerald fought off a smirk, amused to witness his cocky partner rendered into a wide-eyed silence.

  Mrs. Marshall stepped forward to Abby. “Miss Fischer, was it?”

  “Please, call me Abby.” His cousin fingered the locket she always wore.

  Gerald winced at the quaver in Abby’s voice. The poor girl had been through so much in the past year, the last thing she needed was a meddling older sister.

  Mrs. Marshall’s lips turned downward. “You agreed to marry my kid brother?”

  Abby’s freckles stood in sharp contrast to her pale face. “Yes.”

  The woman reached out gloved hands to grasp Abby’s elbows. “I hope you know what you’re in for, Abby, because he’s a handful.” A bright smile replaced her frown, like warm sunshine breaking through the fog. With a shrug, she tipped her head in Robert’s direction. “And any woman capable of taming Robert’s heart, I’d be honored to call a sister.”

  Gerald pushed his hat back. Ruby King Marshall was clearly made out of stouter material than he’d given her credit for.

  Abby released a sudden laugh, her expression brightening.

  Gerald let his attention flicker back and forth between the two women. Though smiling, his cousin appeared on the verge of collapse, her face blotchy. Mrs. Marshall’s eyes shone, but he couldn’t ignore her shallow, rapid breathing. He shook his head. He’d never figure out why women acted the way they did. Probably why he was still unmarried.

  Abby ran fingers down Robert’s sleeve. “If anyone did the ‘taming,’ it was your brother, Mrs. Marshall. He has the patience of a saint.”

  Mrs. Marshall laughed. “Patient? Are you sure we are talking about the same Robert King—the boy so eager to practice medicine that at fourteen, he sneaked into our father’s office and pretended to be the physician? He had at least half of the patients completely hoodwinked.” She shook her head. “I don’t think he knows the meaning of the word patience. Outside of medical patients.”

  Abby brightened. “Tell me more.”

  Robert’s sister linked arms with Abby as the two walked toward the Ferry Building. “I have many such tales. Where shall I start? First, you must begin by calling me Ruby.”

  Robert grasped the handle of the wicker basket. “Ruby, no stories. Please.”

  His sister shot a smirk over her shoulder, eyes flashing.

  Gerald chuckled. Obviously, Robert was not going to get off scot-free for this little escapade.

  Robert grunted as he hoisted the wicker container in the air. “Ruby, what have you got in here?”

  His sister smiled. “Otto, of course.”

  Gerald froze, staring at the hamper now jostling in Robert’s hands. “Otto?”

  Robert’s jaw hung open. “Ruby, you didn’t.”

  The basket growled in reply.

  “You didn’t expect me to leave him in Sacramento with Mother, did you?” Mrs. Marshall cocked her head to one side, her elbow linked with Abby’s.

  Gerald’s stomach dropped. Not only a meddling sister, but a yapping dog, too?

  Robert gripped the container under his arm, reaching for the carpetbag with his other hand. He glanced up at Gerald, the corner of his mouth rising. “It won’t be a problem. Right, Gerald?”

  * * *

  Robert is getting married.

  Ruby walked down the cobblestone street, arm in arm with the stranger, soon to be a sister. She lifted her chin, pressing away the thought. She’d squashed her own feelings, put Robert on the defensive, and pulled Abby close. Next on the agenda—inform Robert she’d decided on a brief visit.

  Coming to San Francisco had been a mistake. As usual, she had blundered ahead with her plans, not bothering to consult anyone. She shook her head and glanced heavenward. God laughs at my schemes, right, Miriam?

  Ruby’s mind wandered, barely registering the landmarks Abby pointed out as they walked along Market Street. Once they reached Robert’s apartment, he and Ruby would have a long talk. They would chart out her short stay and buy a ticket for the return journey. She wasn’t staying around to help plan a wedding. When our mother and sisters hear the news, they’ll be on the next ferry.

  The two men followed, Robert occasionally putting in a word or two. Dr. Larkspur remained silent. Back at the Ferry Building, his probing eyes had caught her unprepared—as if the stranger could read her thoughts as clearly as her sightless cousin. If she had Robert and Abby convinced of her sincerity, why would someone like Dr. Larkspur believe any different? And why should she care what he thought?

  The group stopped beside a gleaming red automobile.

  Ruby stepped back, a cold chill washing over her. “I thought we were walking to Robert’s apartment. You don’t live far, do you?”

  Robert tucked her luggage and Otto’s basket into the rear seat. “My apartment building was destroyed in the fires. I wrote and told you. Remember?”

  “Where are you staying?” The street noise multiplied, as if pounding its way inside her brain. She’d arrived with no thought to accommodations.

  “It’s not a problem, Sis. I talked to Gerald about it, and he doesn’t mind. We’ll just shuffle around a bit. Everyone in the city is getting used to tight quarters.”

  “I thought I was coming to help, but I’m just going to be in the way.” Ruby covered her burning cheeks with her hands.

  A huge smile danced across Abby’s face. “Don’t feel bad, please! We’ll all make space. It will be fun.”

  Ruby’s stomach jolted. “Am I staying with you?” She turned to Robert. “You haven’t answered my question. Where are you living?”

  Her brother’s face split into an annoying grin. “I’m staying with Gerald—Dr. Larkspur. And so is Abby’s family. And Gerald’s mother, Mae Larkspur. But it’s a large house. There’s plenty of room, really.”

  “You’re—you’re all living . . .” Ruby’s idea of coming to the city to console her lonely brother crumbled, replaced by the reality of being trapped in a houseful of strangers.

  Dr. Larkspur swung open the vehicle’s rear door. “If you will just step in, Mrs. Marshall, I’m sure we can explain everything on the way.”

  Ruby grabbed the edge of her coat and twisted, glancing from one face to another and then at the automobile. The door yawned open like a mouth preparing to devour her. Scurrying backward, she stumbled on a loose cobble, nearly landing on her backside.

  Robert reached out and caught her elbow. “Ruby, what’s gotten into you?”

  She leaned heavily on Robert’s arm as her stomach churned. Beads of sweat broke out between her shoulder blades. Get in the car, you silly goose. Panting, she heard her own words as if from a distance. “I—I can’t. I’m sorry!” Pulling away from Robert’s grip she retreated toward the Ferry Building.

  * * *

  Gerald released the door handle as Mrs. Marshall fled, her brother trailing behind. “What is wrong with her?”

  Abby’s chin trembled. “It’s me. She doesn’t approve of me, and now she thinks Robert and I are . . . are . . .” She drew her hands up to cover her eyes. “This is a disaster.”

  “She thinks what?” Why was he always two steps behind the conversation when speaking with women? And Abby always seemed one of the sensible ones.

  She shot him a withering look. “Robert and I are living in the same household, Gerald.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. She couldn’t possibly think you two have done anything improper.”

  “Then why would she rush off?”

  Gerald glanced toward the siblings. Robert had caught up to his sister, and they were talking in hushed tones. Gerald laid a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “Well, whatever has put her out of sorts, Robert will straighten it out. She does seem a little flighty, don’t you think?”
/>   Abby frowned. “Robert said she was quite levelheaded before her husband died.”

  Gerald swiped a palm across the back of his collar. “She’s young to be a widow. Do you know what happened to her husband?”

  Abby raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you men ever talk about anything but medicine?”

  A rumbling growl drew his attention to the back seat. Gerald shoved his hands in his pockets and scowled at the pile of luggage. Lord, you told us to take care of widows and orphans. You said nothing about widows with dogs. He turned his gaze back to Robert and his sister, arguing just out of earshot. Mrs. Marshall’s hat hung slightly askew.

  Gerald leaned closer to Abby. “How did he die?”

  “Mr. Marshall’s horse was spooked by an automobile. He broke his neck in the fall.” Abby sighed. “Robert was apparently away in medical school when it happened.”

  The sound of hooves clattering across the stones obscured the rest of his cousin’s words. Spooked by an automobile? Gerald ran his hand along the car’s frame, the metal growing warm in the sunlight. “Wait here, Abby.” He strode toward his friend.

  Robert’s voice carried on the breeze. “Ruby, you just arrived. You can’t return home today. Be reasonable.”

  Mrs. Marshall’s gaze fluttered over her brother’s shoulder, widening as Gerald approached.

  Gerald pulled a watch from his vest pocket and clicked open the cover, glancing down at the Roman numerals. “Robert, you wanted to get back to the hospital this afternoon, right? I know Mrs. Meier needs another treatment. She favors you over me.” He leaned toward Mrs. Marshall, cupping a hand about the corner of his mouth. “I believe Mrs. Meier is a little sweet on your brother. In fact, most of our female patients seem to prefer his attention. I can’t understand why, myself.” He snapped the lid closed.

  Mrs. Marshall’s eyes softened.

  “You would think they would fancy someone wiser and more mature.” He cocked his head to one side, appreciating the flush springing to his partner’s face. “But apparently not.”

  Robert frowned. “Yes, I did want to get back, but I couldn’t abandon my sister on her first day.”