In Times Gone by

by Tracie Peterson

  “But Victoria isn’t—”

  Judith was about to set him straight and explain that Victoria was far from penniless, but Caleb squeezed her arm. She looked at him and saw something in his expression that suggested she remain silent.

  “You would abandon your fiancée because of her inheritance?” Caleb questioned.

  “More like her lack of inheritance,” the man said, dabbing at his mouth again. “The arrangement was made purely for financial reasons . . . and the unfortunate necessity to produce an heir.”

  Judith shuddered. The thought of marriage to this pompous toad was something she wouldn’t force on anyone—not even her mean-spirited cousin.

  “I’m afraid the loss of her family and wealth has left me with no choice but to discharge our agreement. In fact, I’ve already attended to the matter legally. My lawyer has tendered the papers to the Whitleys’ law firm. Any further concerns you have, I suggest you take to them.”

  “Very well,” Caleb said evenly. “Would you, however, be so gracious as to give us the name and location of the school in Switzerland where Miss Whitley can be reached?”

  “I have no idea where it is, nor its title. I’m sure you can learn that from the law firm as well. Now, I bid you good day.” He stared at Judith and Caleb with blank indifference.

  Caleb didn’t even bother to reply. He pulled Judith toward the door so quickly that she almost lost one of her shoes. He didn’t wait for the butler or anyone else to show them back through the labyrinth of rooms, but made his way through the house as if he’d lived there all his life. It wasn’t until they were well down the road that he let out what could only be described as a growl.

  “That man was abominable.”

  “He was indeed.” Judith shook her head. “I’ve never met anyone quite so terrible, and that includes my cousins—one of whom tried to kill me. I’m glad you kept me from setting him straight about Victoria’s inheritance.”

  “I felt fairly confident the arrangement was purely for the purpose of marrying money to money. He doesn’t need to know that your grandmother set aside money for Victoria. He doesn’t need anything but a good swift kick to the backside.”

  “Or a fist to the mouth.”

  Caleb turned at Judith’s comment. The scowl left his face, and he began to laugh. She was glad to see the darkness pass from him. She looped her arm through his.

  “I’m so glad we’re together because of love. If you were marrying me for my fortune, I would be devastated,” she said.

  Caleb sobered. “There are some who will say I’m doing just that. After all, we didn’t become engaged until after I learned your true identity and that you were an heiress.”

  “Do you really think I care about that?”

  He shrugged. “People can be cruel. I’ve seen all manner of suspicion created where money was concerned.”

  “I don’t care what others might say.” Judith met his gaze. “I only care about what you say. I know the truth, and so do you. Most importantly, God knows our hearts.”

  His expression grew tender. “I do love you, Miss Whitley. I would love you even if you were just Judith Gladstone, a poor girl from Colorado. Your money doesn’t matter to me. I’ll even sign papers to relinquish all rights to any say over your fortune.”

  She smiled. “That isn’t necessary. What I have, I want to share with you. I’ve been so alone all of my life, and now I have a chance for real love and a family. I love you, Mr. Coulter. I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you, and I will never stop.”

  CHAPTER

  6

  Kenzie finished with her duties at the warehouse, then decided once again to try to get through the restricted areas to find her cousin. She’d heard there were parts of town where a person could slip through relatively unnoticed, and she intended to find one of those.

  At ten o’clock every morning, Camri had taken to giving a reading class. Quite a few of the elderly people staying with them couldn’t read, and with Camri’s deep commitment to education, she felt it her duty to rectify the problem. Judith, meanwhile, was busy with preparations for lunch. She and some of the other women were laughing and sharing stories about their childhood days while they made noodles from the newly furnished flour and eggs. It was the perfect opportunity for Kenzie.

  She slipped out the back of the warehouse, unnoticed by anyone but the collection of old men playing checkers on the outside tables.

  “Miss Kenzie, you’re sure purdy today,” a man named Bartimaeus declared.

  “She’s purdy every day, you old codger,” another man declared. He grinned up at her, revealing that he was missing most of his teeth.

  “You’re very kind, Mr. Lawrence.” Kenzie returned his smile and kept moving. If stopped to engage in conversation, she risked Judith or one of the other women coming outside.

  She made her way toward the city, crossing Market near the Ferry Building. People were plentiful here, and with the general confusion and activity, it was easy for one woman to move through the crowd without drawing attention to herself. She decided to keep close to the bay and moved along the collection of piers. It was busy there as well. The piers that had been damaged were being inspected and repaired, while the ones that had remained safe were being used to bring in much-needed commodities. Normally, Kenzie would have avoided this area due to the sailors and rowdy stevedores, but like the repairmen, they were much too busy to pay her any heed.

  Proof of the fire was everywhere. Some buildings had suffered complete destruction, while others were only partially destroyed. In some areas, there was even a building or two that had escaped the fire entirely.

  “I want this first group of ten to start on the corner of Sansome and Green Street.”

  Kenzie paused at the sound of a man barking out orders. She couldn’t tell exactly where he was, but she ducked behind a collection of charred framing and concrete to avoid being seen.

  A moment later, a man appeared with a long line of tent city workers in two columns following him. He was explaining what he expected of them and where he would leave each group to start working. From her hiding place, Kenzie heard him announce that he would have three trucks positioned at various places for the loading of rubble. He told the men they would be fed at noon and dismissed at six, but only if they were steadfast in their work.

  Once they had moved on, Kenzie hurried off in a different direction, hoping to avoid any possible encounter and the risk of getting pulled onto a work crew.

  She made her way as best she could, thankful that many parts of the city were deserted. As she neared the industrial area where Lake Boxed Candies had been manufactured, it was clear that conditions were much worse. Here the fires had been all-consuming, and the earthquake had left indelible marks. For a long moment, all Kenzie could do was stare. It brought tears to her eyes. So many lives lost. So much property destroyed.

  “Say there, ain’t you a sight.”

  She stiffened at the words. She didn’t see anyone nearby at first, but then a scraggly blond man, hardly more than a boy, stepped out from the shadows. On his heels was another boy who looked to be the same age, but his hair was coal black. Both were tall and muscular but filthy and clearly up to no good.

  Kenzie moved away, only to have the men close the distance.

  “You ain’t gonna be all uppity now, are you?” the blond asked.

  The other boy grinned. “We ain’t had any decent female companionship since the fire.”

  “I’m neither uppity nor companionship for you,” Kenzie replied. “I’m meeting my cousin. Perhaps you know him. George Lake.”

  The grinning boy shook his head. “Nope, don’t know him and don’t want to.” He took hold of Kenzie’s arm. “But you, lady, I do wanna know. I wanna know you real bad.”

  Kenzie pulled back, but he held her fast. The blond, not to be outdone, grabbed her other arm. “Unhand me. If you’re looking to rob me, I have nothing. I brought neither purse nor coin.” She struggled to free
herself, but the duo were much stronger than she was.

  “We ain’t lookin’ to rob you, darlin’. We just want a little friendly fun. We got a nice, quiet spot where we can have a real good time,” the black-haired boy said, leaning down. He tilted his head to avoid the wide brim of her hat and pressed his lips against her cheek.

  Kenzie fought to put distance between them, but it was no use. The hoodlums only laughed and held her all the tighter.

  “You need to learn how to have fun,” the blond said. “Come on, let’s show her how to have a good time.”

  They moved toward the darkened abyss from which they’d emerged. Kenzie had no other choice but to scream, so she did. This startled the boys so much that they momentarily halted.

  The blond looked at her and shook his head. “That weren’t very nice.”

  “I’m not trying to be nice. Let me go.” She screamed again, and the black-haired boy clamped a filthy hand over her mouth.

  “If that’s the way you want to be,” he said, “then this ain’t gonna be nearly as much fun.”

  Kenzie felt sickened by the young man’s stench and the thoughts of what he had in mind. She found herself wishing she’d listened to everyone’s advice and stayed home where she would be safe from such people.

  “Halt! Unhand that lady!”

  She felt a rush of relief at the authoritative voice. The young men loosened their grip, then let go of her in order to face their new opponent.

  “What’s the matter with you? We’re just having a little fun with our friend,” the blond declared.

  Kenzie hurried away from the duo toward the two men who wore uniforms and badges. “I am not their friend. They accosted me.”

  “Is that right?”

  The black-haired man shrugged and grinned. “Didn’t mean no harm.” He hit his buddy in the chest, and the two started to run down the alley.

  The men at her side drew their side arms and fired, dropping both men with a single shot each.

  She looked at the officers, stunned by their reaction. “You didn’t have to shoot them.”

  “Riffraff. They won’t learn any other way,” the man nearest her replied. “It sets an example for the rest.”

  His partner moved to where the young men lay facedown in the street.

  Kenzie’s stomach clenched. “They were just boys.”

  “Foolish boys,” the older officer declared. “Ma’am, this isn’t a safe place for you. You need to get on home.” He went to join his partner while Kenzie stared after them in dumbfounded silence.

  “Let’s put ’em with the others,” the older man instructed, holstering his gun. He bent and hoisted the black-haired man over his shoulder while his partner did likewise with the blond. Neither officer seemed to feel even the slightest remorse for their action.

  Kenzie watched as they moved off down the street, still struggling to believe what had just happened. While she was grateful for the rescue, she had never thought it would result in the death of her attackers. It was hard to understand. Surely the officers could have just taken the men into custody.

  They were just boys. No more than seventeen or eighteen at the most.

  Kenzie forced herself to move. It wasn’t safe to stay here. She knew the situation could easily repeat itself if she wasn’t careful.

  She hurried to the chocolate factory and found a burned-out shell of brick and steel. She knew it was probably dangerous to go inside, but if Cousin George was here, she needed to know. If he were trapped or buried in the rubble, then maybe she could lend aid. It was doubtful, but it gave her the courage to go inside.

  “Cousin George? Are you here?” she called, entering the area that had once been the office.

  She saw the ashen remains of what had been a desk and chairs, as well as metal filing cabinets that had melted in the fierce heat. Had Kenzie not known what the office looked like prior to the fire, she certainly wouldn’t have been able to make it out now. No doubt this was the scene throughout the city. It was hard to imagine a lifetime of work up in flames—yet here was proof.

  Kenzie continued down the hall to the assembly room where she had once worked with Camri and Judith. The collapse of much of the roof allowed the sun to shine down on the devastation. There was nothing left.

  “Cousin George?” she called again as she moved toward the machine rooms where the chocolate had been made. “It’s Kenzie! Are you here, Cousin George?” She heard noise coming from the far side of the room. “Cousin George?” She strained to see around an impassable pile of debris.

  “Kenzie, what are you doing here?” George Lake emerged from beneath a mangle of iron and steel. He appeared to be in one piece.

  Kenzie rushed toward him. “I’ve been so worried about you. I didn’t know if you’d survived the earthquake or the fires.”

  The short, balding man pushed up his wire-rimmed glasses. “There wasn’t time to look for you. I figured you were safe, since you weren’t downtown when the earthquake hit.” He looked her over and nodded. “I see you’re fine.”

  “Yes. We sustained some damage, but the fires didn’t make it as far as our neighborhood.”

  “That’s good,” he replied. “That’s very good.”

  “We’re staying at the warehouse—the one you looked at when you were thinking about moving the factory. We opened a shelter there for some of the homeless.” She looked around at the hopeless mess. “What are you doing here? None of this can be salvaged, can it?”

  George shrugged. “Who can say until I go through it? I’ve been down here since things cooled off enough to get into it.”

  “Were you here when the earthquake hit?”

  He nodded. “Me and a few of the boys had arrived. We sought shelter under one of the machines as it rained down brick and glass. We thought for sure we would die.”

  “I’m so sorry. I’ve been trying to find a way to get down here since it happened, but they have all sorts of roadblocks and sentries. Did the fire consume the factory that day?”

  “No. It wasn’t until the next day. A fireman came to tell us that we had to leave. The fires were spreading fast and were out of control. I had managed to pack up the important records, and we hauled off as much of the boxed chocolate as we could. I donated it to the relief camps.”

  Kenzie smiled. “That was an admirable thing to do.”

  “Wasn’t much else to be done with it. It could hardly be sold in such conditions.” He shook his head. “It’s all gone now.”

  “You had insurance, however, so you can rebuild.” She knew this because she’d handled the payments for his premiums.

  “Yes, I had insurance, but apparently you haven’t heard. Most of the companies are refusing to pay out.”

  “What? But how can they do that?”

  George Lake pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “They can’t afford to pay the claims. No one figured on something like this happening. The insurance companies weren’t required to keep collateral equal to their policies, so there simply isn’t enough to go around.”

  “I had no idea.” She felt an overwhelming sadness for this man who had been so kind to her and her friends. “I’m so sorry, Cousin George.”

  “Well, what sabotage from my enemies couldn’t manage, God did in one swift stroke.”

  She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

  “We both know Ghirardelli and Guittard wanted to see an end to my chocolate. They tried to see me ruined, but what they couldn’t accomplish, God did through the earthquake.”

  “I don’t think God wanted to ruin you, Cousin George.” Kenzie was used to his fears of sabotage, but she’d never heard him bring God into the matter.

  “Well, it seems to me that He did. Ghirardelli was unharmed. They’ve continued to work the entire time.”

  “You think God would allow San Francisco to be destroyed in order to ruin you as chocolatier?” She shook her head. “Even you have more sense than to believe that.”

  He f
rowned at her. “Then what? Why all of this?” He waved his arm at the destruction.

  “Perhaps if this is to be blamed on God, then He did it to get the attention of all who live here. I mean, think of Sodom and Gomorrah. They had plunged into all sorts of decadence and sin just as San Francisco had. Maybe God felt total destruction was all that could be done to get our attention and bring about change.”

  “Then He is a cruel and heartless God, punishing the innocent for the sins of the guilty.”

  Kenzie shook her head. “I’m no theologian, cousin. I merely pose the suggestion that if God is the one responsible, then perhaps we should take heed. After all, are we truly innocent when we see evil happening and do nothing to stop it?”

  He considered this for a moment. “I suppose I don’t have an answer for you on that.”

  “Neither do I, but I think that instead of railing at God or blaming Him, we should be bowing before Him, praying to Him for guidance and direction. I believe God is good and that He has a plan in all that happens. Even when bad things happen, I feel confident that He will make something good out of it. Perhaps He will open a door for you to have something even better—greater than before.”

  George’s shoulders slumped. “I’m an old man, Kenzie. I don’t have that many more years ahead of me anyway. Maybe it’s best I just forget about making chocolate.”

  Gently, she said, “Perhaps you should. It’s possible that this is the right time to walk away. But it’s equally possible that it’s not. You know, sometimes bad things happen and they’re no fault or punishment to that person, but rather the circumstances of the moment. We live in a flawed world. The important thing is that we learn to trust God no matter the situation. There will always be evil men who plot against us and do us wrong.”

  She paused for a moment, thinking of Arthur. She wouldn’t call him evil, but he had done her wrong. “There will also be people who simply seek to have their own way and aren’t really striving against us but hurt us nonetheless. There are even people who cause us pain in perfectly innocent ways. It’s a part of life, Cousin George. God allows us to make our choices, including how we will stand up to evil and wrongdoing.”