* * *
Ruby gripped the edge of the seat as the car sped down the road. The men’s voices rattled in her ears as Robert leaned forward from the rear compartment, his arms braced on the seatback between Gerald and Ruby. She squeezed her eyes shut, regretting her decision not to insist on sitting in the back. With Robert and Gerald posturing like two roosters prepared for battle, it had seemed imprudent to interrupt. She never understood why men felt this constant need to intimidate one another.
Her brother had always described Dr. Larkspur as a glorious benefactor, determined to guide Robert to success. From what she had observed, Gerald Larkspur was a moody, arrogant man with a lofty opinion of himself. She glanced at him, hunched over the wheel, sending the automobile lurching around a cable car on one of San Francisco’s never-ending hills.
“Do you think you could slow down a little?” Ruby gritted her teeth. The breeze pulled at her hat, yanking against the pins securing the chapeau to the pompadour frame and threatening to dislodge the whole conglomeration. She sacrificed one of her grips on the upholstery to clasp the brim, but jammed a foot against the floor for extra security.
Gerald glanced over, his pinched brows relaxing and lifting, almost as if he’d forgotten she sat beside him. His face softened.
The tension in her limbs unraveled as she gazed into the man’s ghostly blue eyes. Why is he staring at me?
“Watch out!” Robert yelped.
Ruby’s gaze snapped forward in time to witness the young paperboy bound across their path.
Gerald yanked on the brake, and the car skidded to a halt.
The momentum carried her off the seat cushion and onto the floor, her head cracking against the low brass rail in the process. Blinking away stinging tears, Ruby pressed a palm to her chest, her heart thudding in time with the motor.
“Ruby!” Her brother jumped to his feet. “Are you all right?”
Gerald’s eyes widened. “I am so, so sorry. I don’t know what happened. Here, let me help you up.” He reached out his hand. “Your head is bleeding.”
She knocked it away. “You weren’t watching the road, is what happened.” The bitter sound of her own voice rang in her ears. “Why must men drive so recklessly? You think you are invincible and nothing can happen. You’re all alike.” She slithered back onto the seat. “I’m done with automobiles, and . . . and horses, and—” she flung her hands skyward. “And anything else driven by men.”
Ruby stood and moved to step down to the street as an ear-splitting bell sounded directly behind her.
“Gerald, we’re on the rails!” Robert thumped a palm on the seatback.
Ruby glanced back, one foot on the step plate. A cable car rattled toward them, looming up at a frightening clip. She swallowed, grateful for a second time she’d used the facilities at the hospital.
Gerald clamped onto her wrist and yanked, dragging Ruby into the car as he hit the accelerator. The tires screeched as the automobile lurched forward, Ruby’s tailbone smacking atop the cushion. They careened to the curb as the long vehicle clattered past, riders hanging from its sides, pointing and waving.
The noise faded until only the rumble of the motor and the sound of her own gasping breaths filled Ruby’s head. She turned and glared at the two men. Her brother leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. Gerald stared straight ahead, watching the public conveyance glide down the hill. Ruby clambered to the cobblestones and stood, swaying, on rubbery legs.
“Where are you going?” Gerald’s voice quivered.
“Home.” She braced one hand on the automobile to gather her wits and determine the direction of the Ferry Building.
Gerald jumped to the ground, hurrying to her side. “Ruby, I am sorry. I was distracted for a moment. Thankfully those boys know how to get out of the way.” The man had the audacity to smile.
She fought an urge to kick him, reaching up to straighten her hat instead.
It was gone. Ruby clutched at her hair, the curls slipping and loosening by the second. “My hat—where is it?”
Gerald glanced around the vehicle. “Perhaps it blew away?”
Ruby flushed, several unladylike words springing to her tongue. “Well, find it! You made this mess with your awful driving. I need my hat.” You clod.
Robert appeared at her arm as Gerald hurried off. “Don’t be too hard on him, Ruby. He hasn’t slept and then the board—”
“You forced me to ride in this contraption.” She sank her elbow into her brother’s ribs.
He grunted and stepped out of range. “And no one was hurt.”
“Tell it to my head.” She touched the goose egg on her forehead with a grimace, a smear of blood coming away on her fingers.
“Doesn’t look serious.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his vest pocket and pressed it to the wound. “Come on Ruby, no harm done.”
Gerald approached. “About the hat . . .” He withdrew the mangled wreckage from behind his back. The boater had been returned to its original elements—wisps of straw, feathers and shredded ribbon. “It may have gone under the cable car.”
* * *
Gerald fingered the mutilated hat. It didn’t seem appropriate to offer the soiled item to the lady, but he would be amiss to leave it in the street.
Ruby slapped the automobile’s hood with a grimace. “What is wrong with you two?” Her eyes flashed, her cheeks radiating a rosy glow. She snatched the remains from his grip. “We might have been crushed. Like this . . . this—”
“Hat?” Gerald furnished the word, biting his lip to hide a smile. Her elaborate hairstyle had shifted, reminiscent of the Tower of Pisa. One more stamp of her foot and it might give way completely.
“Yes.” She flicked fingers across the brim, as if to brush away some of the dust, only to have the brim detach and fall to the ground at her feet.
“Ruby, get back in the car. Let us take you home.” Robert touched his sister’s elbow.
“No.” She threw the rest of the hat down. “Never. I won’t ride in an automobile again. You promised we would be safe.”
Robert raised his hands. “To be completely truthful, I said I was a careful driver. I said nothing about Gerald.” He hooked a thumb Gerald’s direction.
Heat rushed to Gerald’s face. “If the newspaper boy hadn’t run out in front of me, we’d have been home by now.”
Ruby swung around and shot him a glare that made him step back. “Well, then, you can drive your prized automobile anyplace you choose. I’m walking.” She leaned down, reaching for the discarded hat. Her coiffure followed, cascading forward and sliding to the side. She straightened up with a gasp, both hands flying to her head. “Oh!” Her eyes glistened.
Gerald pressed a fist against his mouth. The woman’s fear and pain were palpable. Laughter would not help things.
Ruby turned her back, pushing the mass of curls upward.
Gerald averted his gaze, turning to face his friend. “We can’t permit her to walk home in this state. It’s almost four miles.”
“What do you suggest? Strong-arm her into the car?” Robert hooked a thumb in his suspenders.
Ruby spun around, curls jutting out at every angle, like Medusa’s snakes.
Gerald forced his eyes down from her wild hair only to have the sight of the bleeding scratch above her left eyebrow sting his conscience. His gaze dropped further, focusing instead on her quivering chin.
He pushed fingers through his own hair. I’m such an idiot. Scooping up the hat scraps, Gerald tossed them into the back seat. “Ruby,” he kept his voice gentle. “You must know how remorseful I am about all of this. For what it’s worth, I promise to replace the bonnet.” He pointed to the scrape. “But we must get you home and cleaned up.”
She sucked in her cheeks as if pondering his words, her gaze darting between him and the automobile.
He patted the passenger seat and reached for her arm. “I’ll be extra cautious. No more paperboys—I give you my word.”
Robert stood
silent, hands thrust in his pockets.
Ruby stared at her shoes. “Fine. I’ll get in, but I’m sitting in the back.” She ignored Gerald’s offered hand and moved toward the rear.
Robert helped her up. “Do you want me to ride with you?”
She settled herself on the cushion. “Absolutely not. You sit up front.” She gestured with shaking fingers. “And make sure your partner watches the road.”
Robert smirked at Gerald. “You heard the lady. Eyes front.”
Gerald pushed past him, grinding his teeth. As if I desired to gawk at her. He clambered behind the wheel with a huff. How do I get into these situations?
Ruby leaned forward, placing her face between them for a brief moment. “And if I’m to stay in San Francisco,” she gripped the seat back, “you two must teach me to drive.”
8
Ruby sat back, stomach churning. Her mother would be aghast. She’d spent years training her daughters to be demure. Mother never dealt with bullheaded men and their automobiles. She blew a curl off her forehead and glanced out at the road. They bounced over another set of rails threading their way down the center of the wide street.
On each side of the street, buildings sprouted like seedlings, stretching upward toward the sky. Ruby shook her head in wonder. Only a few months since the disaster and already the new city took shape, the mythological phoenix rising from the ashes of its predecessor.
In less than ten minutes, Gerald guided the automobile into the alley behind his house, the tires crunching on loose gravel.
Ruby catapulted from the vehicle before either man could open the rear door for her. Her knees wobbled as her toes touched the solid ground.
Otto came dashing to the gate, barking and wiggling his long body in a dance of joy. As Gerald approached, the dog stiffened, rumpling his snout and growling at the house’s owner.
Ruby crouched down and ran a hand along the dog’s spine, carefully smoothing his hackles. “Otto, we’re guests here. Be polite.” A lesson I need, as well.
With little more than a disinterested glance toward the dog, Gerald slung his jacket over one drooping shoulder and gestured for Ruby to enter the house before him. Within moments, he disappeared up the back stairs.
A hundred-pound weight descended on Ruby’s frame. The poor man had been awake all night, lost a patient, and had done battle with the medical board for her brother’s sake—and she had the gall to yell at him and make senseless demands. And on her first full day in San Francisco. She pushed the door shut behind her, leaning against it as her regrets stacked up.
Mrs. Larkspur hurried down the hall to greet them, her tiny form like a welcoming angel at heaven’s gates. Giving Robert a quick peck on the cheek, she turned to Ruby, eyes wide. “Oh, my dear, what has happened to you?” She tugged Ruby into the better light of the sunny kitchen.
Ruby dragged her feet, Otto padding behind. “It’s nothing serious.”
Robert followed, slipped out of his jacket, and scooped up an apple from a basket on the counter. “We had a little mishap on the way home, but everything turned out fine.”
Mrs. Larkspur shot him a glance, a crease forming between her brows. “The poor girl doesn’t appear fine to me. Come sit down, Ruby, and I’ll get you some tea. You look like you’ve been through a war zone.”
Ruby sank into the kitchen chair, her insides quivering as if she were still bouncing along the roadway.
Robert chuckled. “I’ll leave you in Mrs. Larkspur’s capable hands. I’m going to get cleaned up, and then I need to head back to the hospital.”
Gerald’s mother poured tea into a pink-flowered cup. “Now, tell me what happened.”
Ruby filled her in on the morning’s events, lingering over her son’s remarkable performance at the board meeting before launching into the story of the eventful drive home. Her muscles unwound, thanks to the tea or to Mrs. Larkspur’s mothering—she wasn’t certain.
The older woman clucked her tongue. “The automobile makes me nervous, too. I wasn’t pleased when Gerald bought the thing. I’d rather have a simple horse and buggy, myself. But, times are changing. You have to change along with them or get left behind.” She patted her silver hair, pinned up in a tight bun instead of rounded out like everyone else’s. “Gerald has neither the time nor the inclination to care for a horse.” She sipped her tea. “He works entirely too hard. No one to come home to, I suppose, except for all of us. But a young man needs more.”
Ruby stretched, her neck and shoulders protesting the sudden movement.
Mrs. Larkspur frowned, her wrinkles squeezing together. “You poor thing. All this way on the train and the ferry—and on your first day in the city, this happens.” She stood up and headed for the washbasin. “We must get the cut cleaned up straight away.”
“Please, don’t trouble yourself. I can go upstairs and do it. I need to fix my hair, anyway. I know it’s a disaster.” Ruby turned toward the sound of footsteps on the back stairs, a sudden pinch jerking her shoulder. She winced.
Gerald’s voice came from behind. “Is your neck bothering you?” He walked into Ruby’s field of vision and slid into the seat his mother had abandoned. He sat sideways, his knees brushing against the side of Ruby’s skirt.
Otto crept out from under the table, licked a few stray crumbs off the floor, and plopped at the man’s feet.
The twinge in her spine increased with Gerald’s proximity. “I’m a bit stiff.” Ruby reached for the teacup, nearly knocking it from the saucer.
His forehead creased. “You must know how guilt-ridden I am about today’s events.”
With some effort, she turned and faced him. “Please stop. I forgive you.” She set the cup down so as not to spill on the lace cloth. “I’m prone to overreacting, I’m afraid. I haven’t been very gracious.”
He drummed his fingers on the table. “You showed a great deal of courage climbing into the automobile in the first place. I hope you’ll give me a chance to rectify the situation.” He leaned in, his face earnest. “Let me take you driving outside of the city. How about Sunday, after church? You will see how fun it can be. And if you still want to learn, well—I’ll teach you.”
A chill rushed across her skin. “You will?”
Mrs. Larkspur walked back to the table, a bowl of water and a cloth in her hands. “What do you mean, Gerald?”
He grinned. “The young lady wants to learn to drive an automobile.”
She plunked the bowl down. “Drive? Are you serious?”
Ruby managed a final sip of tea, the cup trembling in her fingers. “It’s as you said.” She smiled at Gerald’s mother. “You either change with the times, or you get left behind. I’m planning to control the changes in my life. Besides . . .” She cocked an eyebrow. “I think women would probably make safer drivers than men. Don’t you agree?”
“You might be right.” Mrs. Larkspur chuckled. She dipped the corner of the cloth into the water.
Gerald reached over and stopped her hand. “Allow me, Mother. I am the doctor after all. And the one responsible for this lady’s injuries.”
Ruby slid her chair backward. “I think I’ll take care of it myself.”
“Please, let me take a look at it. If you get an infection because of my carelessness, you can be sure I will never forgive myself.”
The intensity of the man’s eyes melted her resistance. “If you insist.”
He smiled and took the rag in his fingers. Drawing closer, he lifted the loose hair on her forehead and dabbed at the scratch with the wet cloth.
Otto sat up and growled, the soft sound rippling through the room.
Ruby shushed the dog. She squeezed her eyes shut, her back stiff as an iron rod. No one had fussed over her like this in ages.
“Doesn’t look too bad. It won’t need any stitches.” His breath stirred the hair near her ear, raising gooseflesh across her skin. She opened her eyes.
Gerald’s face hovered only an inch or two from her own, his warm fingers a featherl
ike touch on her skin, his gaze fixed on the wound.
She stared at his eyes, the blue catching reflections of the sunlight from the window. Tiny lines hovered at their outer corners, as if he’d spent too many nights toiling at his patients’ bedside with too little to show for it.
His gaze flickered down to her eyes and remained locked there.
Ruby shoved her chair backward along the kitchen floor until it bumped against the wall. “I told you, I’m fine.” His touch made it difficult to concentrate. She pushed his hand away. “I think that’ll do. I need to freshen up, anyway.”
He nodded and pulled back, lips puckered in a frown.
Ruby stumbled to her feet and thanked Mrs. Larkspur for the tea before escaping to the solitude of her bedroom.
* * *
Gerald laid the damp cloth on the table, the hairs lifting along his arms. What was it about this woman? She was demanding, rude, controlling—and completely hypnotizing.
His mother laid a hand on his back. “Rough day?”
Gerald let his head drop back against his shoulders as he stared up at the ceiling. “Rough day. Rough night. Rough couple of months.”
She set a teacup in front of him and reached for the pot. “You know what they say. ‘Sunshine always comes after the storm.’ ” His mother poured the tea, the fragrant scent of chamomile wafting upward on the cloud of steam. “And we’ve had a doozy of a storm this year.”
Gerald closed his fingers around the cup, the warmth soaking into his skin. If only it could ease the chill that had locked onto his heart.
The afternoon light glinted off his mother’s silver hair. “Ruby will be a pleasant addition, I think.” A smile toyed at the corners of her lips, softening the lines around her mouth.
He lifted the cup to his mouth, the hot liquid scalding his tongue.
“She’s a lovely girl. Don’t you agree?”
Beyond the Ashes Page 6
