Abby closed the door behind her with a loud click. “Perhaps after lunch. Or another day, even.” She grimaced. “I know I’ve been difficult, but I believe our styles differ.”
The scent of fresh coffee wafted down the sidewalk. Ruby lifted her head, searching the nearby storefronts. Small tables spilled from a neighboring café, diners enjoying an afternoon repast. “You mentioned choosing our noon meal. What did you have in mind?”
Abby jutted her chin forward with a flash of mischief lighting her eyes. “It’s a surprise.” She grasped Ruby’s elbow and drew her down the busy sidewalk.
With a final yearning glance toward the restaurant, Ruby followed her friend through the crowd. “You will need to choose a gown eventually. Unless . . .” Could there be another reason she’s dragging her feet?
Robert’s fiancée cocked her head as she glanced back at Ruby. “What?”
“Maybe you’re having second thoughts.” The breeze ruffled the feathered plumes draping over the brim of Ruby’s hat. Beside Abby’s simple elegance, she felt overdone and pretentious. “I’m told many attractions sparked because of heightened emotions during the calamity. It’s not unheard of for a bride to change her mind as life returns to normal.”
“Never. Robert was a gift from God. An answered prayer. I wish everyone could find the same love we’ve discovered—tested by fire, if you will.” Abby shook her head. “It’s all this hullabaloo I regret. If he and I dashed off and married quietly, I’d be overjoyed.”
“I’m glad to hear you still love my brother.” Ruby tugged on Abby’s arm, intent on slowing her pace. The tight-hemmed skirt prevented long steps. “But what’s stopping you from sneaking away if it’s what you desire?” She had no particular love for weddings, either. She’d seen enough lately.
“My parents would be distraught. I’m their only daughter now, and they’ve already claimed Robert as a son. How could we wed without their participation?” Her lip quivered. “But when I stop to consider how many people will be attending—your mother and sister, Aunt Mae’s Ladies’ Aid friends, and countless doctors from the hospital and their wives—I get dizzy thinking of it.” She paused at the corner, glaring at the traffic.
“You’re fortunate only one of my sisters is attending.”
“I know I should be itching to meet all of them.” Abby gestured to an approaching electric streetcar. “This is our ride.”
“Some things are best taken in small doses.” Ruby waited as the vehicle slowed to a stop. As long as it wasn’t an automobile. Gerald had promised another driving lesson, but likely as not, he’d avoid any contact with her now. She picked her way down the crowded aisle, spotting an open seat next to an elderly woman whose voluminous black skirt covered most of the bench. “Is this place taken?” Other than by your dress?
The lady blinked, as if she’d just awoken from a nap. “No, of course not. Please, be my guest.”
Ruby pushed the overgrown mass of taffeta to one side before sliding in beside her. As the streetcar lurched forward, Ruby rubbed fingertips against the muscles in her already-stiff neck. This day had been a disappointment. She’d intended to bond with her new sister-in-law, but she’d underestimated the challenge of shopping with someone determined not to like anything. She glanced back at Abby, sitting alongside a young mother with a toddler balanced on her lap.
Ruby faced front and closed her eyes, appreciating the moment off her feet. Perhaps after lunch, she could sneak back to the hospital. Gerald had no right to keep her away.
“Are you going to the baths?” Her seatmate’s voice contained a slight tremor, indicative of her advanced age.
Ruby opened her eyes and glanced at the silver-haired matron. “The baths?” Did she smell so offensive after a morning of shopping?
The woman smiled, deep lines forming around her mouth, suggesting years of smiles. “I thought perhaps you were taking the streetcar to the Sutro Baths.”
“No, I’m having lunch with a friend.” She cast another glance back at Abby who had taken the tyke onto her own knee. The child’s feet drummed against the rear of Ruby’s seat. “We didn’t bring bathing costumes.”
“You must be new to San Francisco, if you are unfamiliar with the Baths.” The older woman adjusted her tall hat, peacock feathers drooping off the back and catching the attention of the little boy who batted at them with a chubby fist.
“I’ve been here almost a month. I came to live with my brother.”
“Odd time to move to the city, with everything as it is. I’ve lived here forty years. My husband and I raised six children here. It’s just Matthew and me now. We lost our youngest in the quake. He was about your age.”
Ruby’s throat tightened. “I’m so sorry. How difficult it must have been for you.”
“It was. It is. But I go down to the coastline on occasion to remind myself to be thankful.” She glanced out the window with a sigh. “Henry loved the beach when he was small. Now I go to remember him. And to thank the Lord for sweet memories.”
Ruby turned away and blinked back tears. Sweet memories.
The woman jostled Ruby as she rose. “Excuse me, this is my stop. Enjoy your lunch.” Her dress rustled as she pushed past, a waft of honeysuckle scent drifting behind.
As Abby’s seatmate followed her down the aisle, Abby stepped forward to claim the elderly woman’s spot. “You’re going to love where I’m taking you.”
Ruby sighed. “Like you loved the dress shopping?”
“Who could love dress shopping?” Abby shuddered. She shot Ruby a sideways glance. “So, you’re positive you’re not interested in my cousin Gerald, right?”
“Of course not.” Or at least, I shouldn’t be.
“Then lunch might be even more interesting.”
Ruby’s appetite vanished. “Gerald isn’t meeting us, is he?”
The corner of Abby’s lip curled upward, the freckles on her cheek dancing. “No. Better. And I’m not saying another word until we arrive.”
The pair sat in silence as the streetcar traversed westward. Other passengers disembarked at various stops, jostling past them with arms full of packages. Clouds darkened the sky as they hurtled onward, tiny droplets of rain pattering against the car’s top and sprinkling in the open windows.
Abby scooted close to the window and turned her face to the breeze. “Isn’t it refreshing? The summer was strangely dry. The roses need the water.”
“Yes, but I do not. Will we arrive soon?” Ruby pulled her wrap tight about her shoulders, covering her batiste blouse.
“We’re almost there. I regret the view won’t be as nice as I’d hoped with this weather rolling in.” She stood and stepped into the aisle.
“View?” Ruby followed Abby to the exit. While the younger woman hopped from the conveyance with confidence, Ruby measured her steps so not to turn her ankle stepping into a mud puddle.
The fog drifted amongst the spires of the massive ornate building perched on the edge of an impossible cliff. Down below, waves crashed against the rocks, sending spray high into the misty air. “Where are we? It looks like a palace.”
Abby clapped her hands together. “I’d hoped you hadn’t heard about it. It’s the Cliff House. Isn’t it marvelous?” She grasped Ruby’s hand, pulling her forward. “We must hurry. They’re expecting us at one o’clock.”
Ruby hoisted her tight hem once more to keep up with Abby’s flying feet. “Is this where we are lunching?” After weeks of staring at damaged or half-finished buildings, the magnificence of the Cliff House stole her imagination. This was the San Francisco of which she’d dreamed.
She followed her friend up the steep staircase, quickly running a hand along her hairline and thankful she’d worn her best hat.
“Patrick!” Abby’s voice rang out.
Ruby froze midstep, gazing at the image above her.
The redheaded minister stood at the top of the steps, dressed in a fine suit and sporting an equally proud smile. “Ladies. I am pleased you cou
ld join me this foggy September afternoon. Reminds me of home. Except for the company, of course.”
Abby gave the man a quick embrace. “Patrick, it’s so good of you to meet us like this.”
Ruby’s stomach dropped as if she’d left it at the bottom of the stairs by mistake. There was no misjudging the mischief in Abby’s eyes—she’d planned this encounter with care.
Patrick reached a hand out to Ruby, a wide grin splitting his face. “Mrs. Marshall, an honor to see you again. Miss Fischer has been bending my ear about you. I must say, you’re looking even more beautiful today than you did with a soup ladle in your hand, tending to my flock.”
Perspiration dampened Ruby’s palms, so she swept one across her skirt before accepting the man’s offer of assistance. “I am surprised to see you, Reverend. I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us.” She shot Abby a reproachful glance.
“Call me Patrick, please. Everyone does. Even Miss Fischer and her fortunate Dr. King.”
Abby grasped Ruby’s arm. “Please forgive me, Ruby. I wanted our outing to be a surprise. Robert thought you would be pleased to dine at the Cliff House. Your idea of dress shopping just made it all the simpler to arrange.”
Ruby tore her gaze from the handsome minister and surveyed the fine building. “Of course I’m pleased. It’s a glorious treat.” She patted Abby’s sleeve. Except for the obvious attempt at matchmaking.
Abby sighed, returning her hands to her sides. “Robert was to join us, of course, but he was all night at the hospital with a patient.”
Dee. Ruby blinked back tears.
Patrick grinned. “You might need to accustom yourself to odd hours, my dear. Doctors are on duty at all times—not unlike men of the cloth. I’m more than honored to escort two lovely ladies to lunch.” He stuck out both elbows. “Perhaps it’s why the Lord gave me two good arms.”
Ruby gingerly looped a wrist around the man’s elbow, swallowing the bitterness creeping up her throat. Abby had meant well and nothing would be served by grousing. An afternoon at a fine restaurant with interesting companions was nothing to shirk—even if her heart remained solidly lodged at Lane Hospital with a quick-witted woman and an attractive doctor.
* * *
Gerald lowered Dee’s cool hand to the sheet, his chest aching. She’s home.
His partner spoke from the far end of the bed. “I’m sorry, Gerald.”
Gerald didn’t move his gaze from Dee’s face, as if by some miracle her heart would beat anew. “We all knew this was coming.” The words tasted flat and stale, like crackers left in the cupboard too long.
Robert’s voice remained low and quiet. “I’m sorry I ever dragged you into this X-ray project.”
Gerald turned away and leaned against the wall. “My own silly pride is to blame. Don’t forget, our first cancer patient was my cousin.” And each subsequent patient had somehow become family. Why couldn’t he keep them at arm’s length? The room fell silent, the deafening quiet pressing against Gerald’s ears. “Go on home, Robert—you must be exhausted. I’ll finish here.”
Robert dropped his gaze to the patient with a sigh and a quick nod. The indigo circles beneath his eyes offered testimony to too many sleepless nights.
“Would you inform Ruby? She cared deeply for Dee.”
Robert raked a hand through his dark hair. “She and Abby are out for the day. Something about dress shopping and lunch.”
Gerald grunted. “Good. She needed an afternoon diversion.” And he’d require time to put his heart back together—not much luck there.
“You could use some entertainment as well. Perhaps we should plan another picnic. Get away from the city for a day.” Robert tucked his hands into his coat pockets.
Dee’s pallid face sent a quiver through Gerald’s stomach. He drew the sheet over her head with a sigh. Her words floated in his memory. “She loves you.” If so, why had Ruby pushed him away? He glanced at Robert. “Yes. Perhaps.”
As Robert walked away, Gerald stared at the white sheet. Dee’s seeing Christ’s face. What could be more wondrous? She wouldn’t wish him to grieve, but Gerald had little control over his heart. Mourning had become like a second skin.
Likely as not, she’d tell him to get busy. He turned away, scrubbing a hand across his face. A fresh start might be in order. Maybe Dee was correct about Ruby. As long as he didn’t throw himself at her like a romance-addled youth, he might eventually earn Ruby’s affections. He thought back to their kiss, and the look of horror on the woman’s face. Perhaps, with patience, she’d be willing to give him a second chance.
22
Ruby slipped her fingers from the white gloves before reaching for her cup of tea. The steamy fragrance of lemon bathed her face as she sipped, glancing across the gold rim toward the clergyman sitting opposite.
Patrick leaned back in his chair, gazing out the spacious window at the fog, his green eyes sparkling like the crystal-laden chandelier above his head. He seemed equally at ease in both the squalor of the refugee camp and the grandeur of the Cliff House. A refined gentleman with a heart for the people—Ruby never realized such a man existed outside of novels. So why could she think of nothing but a certain doctor?
Tea dribbled from the cup to Ruby’s chin. She started, clattering the teacup down against the saucer. She swept the napkin to her face before the amber liquid could stain her shirtwaist.
Abby cleared her throat. “Patrick, do you believe the weather will clear and give us a view of the ocean?”
“I’ll take it up with the Almighty.”
Ruby tucked her gloves into the crocheted purse she’d hooked to the chatelaine clip on her waist. “With all the suffering in the world—and this city, specifically—don’t you imagine the Lord has more important matters to tend to?”
Patrick grinned, revealing a dimple in one cheek. “You must think our God very small indeed, Mrs. Marshall. He loves to give good gifts to His children, not just serve their basic needs.”
Abby added a cube of sugar to her tea, her brown eyes shining. “Isn’t it amazing how He reaches out to us in both the good and the bad times? I’d never truly experienced God’s presence until those horrible days of fire following the earthquake. Now I see His hand in all things.”
Ruby’s thoughts turned back to her last encounter with Dee. “That’s my God.” Everyone seemed to have a better grasp on faith than Ruby. What was she missing? She stared out the window, blinking against tears. How selfish of her to sit surrounded by opulence while Dee passed from this life. The dismal fog creeping along the coastline seemed altogether appropriate.
Her friend touched Ruby’s wrist. “Are you listening? Patrick asked about your preferred dish.”
Ruby glanced up, startled to see her companions’ attention fixed on her. “I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”
The minister frowned. “I hope my teasing didn’t upset you.”
“No, it simply brought back some unwanted memories.” Ruby reached for the menu, determined to change the subject before further questions arrived. “I love fresh seafood. Do they serve crab?”
“This is San Francisco, my dear.” Patrick spoke in a hushed voice. “Of course the restaurant prepares crab and every other type of seafood you can imagine.”
Abby’s nose wrinkled under her freckles. “I never learned to like shellfish, or any other fish, for that matter. If it doesn’t walk, fly, or grow from a plant, I’m not interested.”
Ruby studied the cartes du jour as Abby and Patrick discussed the merits of different cuisines. Noticing a brown splatter on her cuff, she scowled. Perhaps she’d better not choose something she’d have to coax from a shell with a miniature fork. She’d be liable to send it flying over the minister’s head.
By the time the waiter arrived, she’d already eliminated most of the menu offerings. A flicker of panic grew in her chest as she scrutinized the entrees.
Patrick’s brows knit. “Would you care for me to order, ladies, or would you prefer to do it yourselves?�
�
Abby smiled at the tuxedoed server. “I’ll have the rosemary chicken and the string beans.” She shrugged at Ruby. “You can take the woman off the farm—but you can’t teach her to eat like a city girl.”
“A mixed salad and . . .” Ruby bit her lip, scanning the list once more, “. . . the salmon.” Simple fare seemed the wisest option.
Patrick nodded. “Fine choice. I’d like the same.” He turned to the ladies as the waiter departed. “Now, I apologize again for being so callous, Mrs. Marshall. I have a tendency to tease. You mustn’t put much stock in my words.”
Abby shook her head. “You’re a flirt, Patrick. An unusual trait considering your calling.”
His eyes widened, but his lips curved. “Miss Fischer—I’m shocked to hear you speak so. I am only trying to bring smiles to your lovely faces.”
Ruby stared out at the clouds, a spot of light glaring through the mist. “You needn’t apologize. I’m afraid I’m not the best company, a fact to which Abby can attest. One of my favorite patients is not expected to survive the day. My heart is not completely here.” And Gerald didn’t want me there.
The man’s brows drew together. “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. I’ve heard a little about the research conducted by your brother and Dr. Larkspur. Incredible innovations. I can’t imagine being party to such glorious discoveries.” He leaned back, eyes intense. “But the work must be heartrending at times. How do you bear up under it?”
Ruby twisted the napkin in her lap. I don’t. “I could ask you the same question, working among the displaced.”
“My answer is simple. Trust.”
Ruby frowned. “Trust?” From what she’d seen at the camps, few people there seemed trustworthy.
“When God asks me to serve, I trust He will provide the strength I need. I’m not in the business of saving the city, I leave that to Him.” He lifted the crystal water goblet. “I allow Him to bear the weight, for I am no more capable of saving anyone than these drops of condensation have of entering the glass to which they cling. I trust God’s leading.”
Beyond the Ashes Page 15
