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Authors: Valerie Hansen

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BOOK: Rescuing the Heiress
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He cast her a sidelong glance and found himself admiring her fortitude immensely. She was an extraordinary person, one he was privileged to know. That she was a comely
woman,
even with her long hair hanging loose and her cheeks smudged, did not escape him either. Nor would it escape the notice of the city's criminals when the usual rule of law was overturned due to a lack of ready enforcers.

Once they reached the Clark estate, Michael vowed, he was going to do more than change wagons. He was going to arm himself so he could defend Tess's honor. That was an added reason to keep her close by, he rationalized. As long as she was with him she'd be even safer than if he'd left her alone with the others in the park.

His justification wasn't really logical. He knew that. He also knew he considered it providential that he had encountered Tess at all. If it hadn't been for the tall, stalwart fire horse standing out above most of the crowd he'd have had a terrible time locating Annie and Rose in the first place. His disappointment when Tess had not been with them had been palpable.

That was when he'd begun praying to see her again. And soon after that she'd run up to him and accused him of theft. Given the slim chances of that meeting amidst all this chaos, he had to assume that his fervent prayers had been answered.

Transferring both driving lines to his left, he took her hand in his right and held it gently. “It will be worse out
there every time you go. People are hurt and dying. So are animals. Are you sure you're up to this?”

When she threaded her slim fingers between his, smiled and said, “I can do anything if I'm with you,” Michael was immediately so filled with joy he felt shamefaced. It seemed wrong to experience happiness when so many were suffering. Yet when Tess was by his side, how could he possibly feel otherwise?

Chapter Fourteen

D
uring the tortuous drive back to Nob Hill, Tess tried to focus on how she'd help others rather than dwell on the dire situations she couldn't hope to alleviate. So much misery. So much loss. If she opened her mind to the vast hopelessness all around her she was afraid she wouldn't be able to function at all, let alone make herself useful.

Michael guided the buggy past the impressive Crocker and Huntington estates, then turned up the drive of the house she had called home for her entire life. It was good to see how little damage the stone-clad mansion had sustained, although it did show thin cracks radiating out from the corners of a few of the tallest windows gracing the drawing room and her father's library.

Mary was waiting on the stoop next to the kitchen door, wiping her hands on her apron, when Tess climbed down and embraced her.

“You brought her back.” Mary looked lovingly at her son. “Bless you.”

“We're not staying,” Michael said. “Tess will explain. I'm going to the stables to water this horse and change rigs. While I do that, you two start packing up more bandages and supplies.”

“Of course.”

Tess could see unshed tears brimming in the older woman's eyes and she realized there was moisture in hers, too. She normally wasn't one to weep so easily. Apparently, the sight of so much suffering had brought many people to the edge of their endurance, including her.

She whisked the telltale dampness off her cheeks as she led the way into the kitchen. Mary had managed to lay out a grand spread of food on the table as if expecting guests.

“Have many people stopped by to eat?” Tess asked.

“Only your father and a few of the servants, so far. Mister Gerald said he left some of the men watching his bank and was going to drive around in his motorcar looking for more to hire as guards.”

“You did tell him where I'd gone, didn't you?”

The look of pity on the cook's face told Tess what had happened. Regardless, she chose to ask, “He didn't even miss me, did he?”

“He was just preoccupied with other things,” Mary alibied. “I'm sure he figured you were right here with me, like you are now.”

“Well, I'm not staying,” Tess said firmly. “I'm going back down the hill with Michael.”

“Mercy, no!” Mary's hands worried the apron into a
knot. “You can't be doin' that. Not with everybody in such a tizzy. 'Tis safer here.”

“Nevertheless, I intend to help all I can. Michael needs me. I'm going to be there for him.”

“Is he daft?” She grasped Tess's shoulders. “Think, girl. What if you're attacked? There's always a bad element by those docks. No tellin' what they'll get up to once they see there's no law.”

“I've thought of that. So has Michael. I promised to fetch Father's pistols and a box of bullets. We won't be going back unarmed.”

Mary began to wring her hands and weep. “You can't do that. I've heard shooting. And terrible explosions.”

“That's just the authorities clearing a path so the fire can't progress. Michael heard that Mayor Schmitz and General Funston decided to use dynamite to make a firebreak around the mint.”

“What about all the gunshots? How can you hope to hold your own if there's so much lawlessness?”

“Most of that firing was probably from the army,” Tess said. “The mayor himself told the soldiers to shoot looters on sight.” She patted the cook's hands. “Don't worry on our account. Michael knows all the firemen and most of the police by sight, if not by name. We'll be fine.”

Squaring her shoulders and wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron, Mary regained control. “Well, then, don't just stand there, girl. Go fetch those pistols while I pack you some more food.”

Tess paused just long enough to plant a kiss on the
older woman's damp cheek, then turned and raced up the stairs to her boudoir. She grabbed a carpet bag from the armoire and quickly stuffed it with extra articles of clothing and toiletries she thought she might need.

Pausing to scan her room and think, she was about to head down to the library to raid her father's gun cabinet when she remembered her mother's journal.

Before she could change her mind, she slid a hand beneath her bed pillows and retrieved the slim, ribbon-tied volume. It went into the carpetbag with her clothes. Then, she wheeled and ran.

 

With no handy helpers left at the Clark estate, it took Michael nearly fifteen minutes to find suitable harnessing for the rest of the team he was assembling. He was finishing preparing the fourth horse when Tess joined him.

“Good choices,” she said, tossing her bag and some bedding into the wagon bed while Mary added sacks of food before returning to the kitchen for more.

“Put big Jake, the roan, in the other wheel position,” Tess said, “and I'll hitch my mare in front of him.”

“I couldn't find any tack here that would begin to span the girth of the gray,” Michael replied. “It's a good thing he already had most of his fire department rig on when I found him running loose.”

“Father prefers lighter, faster teams, as you can tell.”

“Where is he?” Michael asked, dreading the pos
sibility that Gerald Clark might venture outside and accost them.

Tess's sharp “Ha!” told him otherwise. “Papa is off tending his money, as usual,” she said. “He's so concerned about me he didn't even remember to ask after my welfare when he came home to get his automobile.”

“Just as well.” Michael chanced a grin in the hopes it would lift her spirits. “I'd hate to have to explain why I was making off with his horses, his wagon
and
his daughter.” To his relief, Tess smiled.

“Plus the brace of ivory-handled pistols in my carpetbag,” she said. “I think he'd be more concerned about getting those guns and his rig back, especially if we were taking the cabriolet. I seriously doubt he'll miss this wagon. Or me.”

“That's another good reason to stay with me. I missed you so badly this morning I almost gave up my job just to come looking for you.”

“I know you'd never really do that,” she said, gazing at him so sweetly his heart nearly melted. “But I do thank you for the kind thought.”

Quickly convincing himself that he needed to double-check the traces on her side, Michael ducked under the chins of the two leading horses to bring himself closer to Tess before he spoke from the heart. “What you said when I saw you after the opera was right. We do need to have a private talk. When this is all over there are some important things to discuss.” Emboldened by the tender look in her eyes he grasped both her hands.

Without any comment other than a slight smile, Tess
tilted up her face, closed her eyes, stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss across his lips.

It was barely a breath, like the warm summer breezes that sometimes drifted over the hills toward the sea, yet it touched him so deeply he could hardly think, let alone find the rest of the words he wanted to speak.

He knew this was not the right time to confess his love for Tess, no matter how badly he wanted to. Delaying their return to the city for any reason could cost innocent lives. Thinking only of themselves was not the proper way for good Christians—or anyone else, for that matter—to behave.

Michael bent to return her kiss and lingered mere moments before he steeled himself to face his duty and whispered, “We need to go.”

 

It seemed to Tess that the more needy people they stopped and picked up, the more they encountered waiting by the side of the road and begging for a lift. The wagon bed was already filled to overflowing, plus there were able-bodied men walking alongside while their women and children rode.

Tess was thankful that Michael's temporary assignment was to rescue and gather the living because they had passed many other wagons, and even a few automobiles, that were being used to haul away the dead. Those sights were so ghastly and shocking they turned her stomach.

He halted the team when they came upon another fireman in uniform. The man was bending over his buggy.
Judging by the way its body was canted, the axel had snapped.

Michael called to him. “Chief Walters? Is that you?”

The man straightened. “Aye. Mahoney?”

“Yes, sir.” Michael saluted. “I've been looking for you. Any orders?”

“Not yet. I've checked on all the stations. It's bad. Don't know what we'll do without Sullivan.”

“Is he still alive?”

“Yes. They transferred him to the Presidio but it doesn't look good.”

Tess noted that the older fireman was eyeing their loaded wagon. “Looks like you found a way to make yourself useful. Keep it up for now. By tomorrow morning we should have a better idea about what we'll need. If you can get to Union Square and it's still open, report to me there at eight. If not, go down to the ferry terminal. We've got men and equipment coming over from Oakland and San Mateo then, too.”

“Why wait till morning?” Michael asked.

Walters's shoulders sagged and he sighed. “Because they've got their own problems over there. It's the same all up and down the coast. Only they don't have nearly the fires we do.” He shook his head. “Never thought I'd see the likes of this day.”

“How many men have we lost?” Michael asked. “The only one I know about is O'Neill, from my station.”

“A couple of others, far as I know. And some police officers. I haven't even tried to get an accurate count yet.”

When he took out a handkerchief and blew his nose, Tess could tell it was mostly to mask his raw emotions.

While Michael bid the chief goodbye, Tess spotted two barefoot children standing across the littered street. She hailed them. “Do you two want a ride to the park so you don't hurt your feet on all this glass and trash? That's where we're going.”

Their grimy faces brightened and they headed for the wagon as if they had just been offered a piece of cake.

Tess scooted as close to Michael as she possibly could to make room for the slim, dark-haired girl and her little brother on the driver's seat and greeted each of them with a hug. “Are your parents nearby? Might they need a lift, too?”

Both children lowered their heads and stopped looking at her. The girl murmured, “No, ma'am,” and began to weep as she pointed to an immense pile of rubble.

“I'm so sorry,” Tess said. “You can stay with me and my friends for now, if you want. We have a nice place saved in the park.” She paused and smiled. “My name is Tess. What's yours?”

The girl was the only one who looked up. “I'm Rachel and this is my brother, David.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Tess turned to Michael. “I think it's time we headed for the park and unloaded these folks so we can come back and start again, don't you?”

“Yes. I just hate to leave anyone behind.”

She saw him eyeing the horizons and assumed he was sizing up the conflagrations that still threatened the heart
of the city as well as some outlying areas. Every direction she looked there was more smoke, more ominous glow, more signs that the situation was growing worse.

Distant explosions continued to startle her as well as the horses, and although Michael seemed as stalwart as ever, he had nevertheless armed himself with one of her father's pistols, leaving the second one for her.

Resting her hand lightly on the back of his, she sought to reassure him. “You're doing all you can right now. The chief just said so.”

“I know. But that doesn't make it any easier to wait patiently when I've been trained to fight fires.”

Pondering what else she could say that might ease Michael's mind, Tess was distracted by a tiny movement beneath the edge of a broken board at the side of the road. It might be nothing, yet she was positive she'd spied something odd.

An intense compulsion to investigate made her grasp Michael's arm and shout, “Stop!”

He tensed. “What's wrong?”

“Over there. I thought I saw something.”

“What?”

“I'm not sure.” She was already clambering past the youngsters and climbing down from the wagon on her own. “I'll be right back.”

Her initial loud exclamation had startled the horses and Michael was still having to work to control the team, so she knew he wouldn't dare follow. That was just as well. With all the horrible things they'd come upon already, there was a fair chance her imagination
was playing tricks on her. She almost hoped that was the case.

Tess slowly, warily, approached the pile of wreckage that had drawn her attention. Whatever had originally caught her eye wasn't visible from this angle. Pausing, she listened intently. A soft mewling was coming from beneath a nearby splintered board. A kitten, perhaps?

Taking cautious steps, she bent to lift the slab of wood and was astonished to uncover a pudgy little blonde girl. The child looked barely old enough to walk. Her blue eyes blinked open. The moment she saw Tess hovering over her she puckered up and began to wail.

Tess waved to the crowd at the wagon. “Over here! Somebody help me look.”

She quickly scooped up the wailing toddler, held her close and stood back while several of the men from the wagon and a few hearty passersby began to throw aside heavier wreckage in that immediate vicinity.

It took only seconds to uncover two bodies. One was a young woman who was clutching a baby blanket as if she had been trying to flee to safety with her child. Next to her lay a once-handsome man who had likely died assisting his wife and baby.

Saddened, Tess carried the probable orphan back to the wagon where helping hands pulled them both aboard. Women crowded around to coo and sympathize and admire her newfound treasure. So did Rachel and little David.

“Is the baby okay?” Michael asked.

“I don't see any injuries. I think she's upset because I scared her, that's all.”

BOOK: Rescuing the Heiress
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