Love Inspired Historical November 2014 (43 page)

But even then sleep was hard to find. He'd seen the dismay on Allie's face as the
Continental
steamed into the harbor. The sight of San Francisco had darkened her dreams. Once, he would have pressed his case, encouraged her to take the next ship to Boston. But after finally understanding what she'd faced there, he couldn't in good conscience send her back. And in all truth, he didn't want her to go. He wanted her at his side.

But is Seattle truly the best place for her, Father? She faced dangers to her daughter in Boston, but the dangers in Seattle are no less real. She'll have to deal with a lack of doctors, possible skirmishes with the tribes, fire and floods. Am I just bringing her and Gillian to where they'll have to brave more heartache and hardship?

Immediately a verse came to mind.
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

He'd always believed that. Look at how Frank had laid down his life protecting others. Look at how Allie had left all she'd ever known to protect her daughter. Clay had built a new life for himself in Seattle. Now it seemed that life could be dangerous to those he loved, which meant he had to lay it down. If the answer to his prayer was to find another home or even take Allie and Gillian back to Boston, face down his mother and cousin, his own past, then so be it. He was ready to lay everything down and look to the future.

He'd talk to Allie in the morning, and they'd make the decision together.

* * *

Allie held Gillian close as the night crawled by. Clay had tried to warn her Seattle would be different from her expectations. She simply hadn't believed him. She'd been sure some part of him was trying to scare her back to Boston. But after seeing San Francisco and all those men crowding the ship, she could no longer deny the truth. Seattle would be more primitive than this. How could she keep Gillian safe in such a wild, lawless place?

She felt cold all over and pulled the covers around her and her daughter. A subscription lending library might provide income, but her livelihood suddenly seemed the least of her worries. She'd refused to be daunted until now, sure she could master any challenge. But what did she know of struggle? She hadn't done more than embroider and arrange dinner parties before running away from Boston.

Her body began to tremble, her heart to pounding. Her breath came short. Fear wrapped around her tighter than a blanket. Why?

The Lord had brought her safely here. These fears, these worries, they weren't hers. They'd been planted by Mrs. Howard and her poisonous nephew, whispered in her ear even as they assured her they were acting in her best interests. They wanted her weak so she would do their bidding.

She was not that person anymore. She closed her eyes, dug deep for the verses she had heard over the years.

Be strong and of good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, He it is that doth go with thee; He will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.

For God has not given us the spirit of fear but of power and of love and a sound mind.

Her breath evened out, her pulse slowed. She did not have all the answers, but she had the answer. God had set her on this path. He would not forsake her. She did not have to fear the future. God had given her the power to take this journey, a sound mind to make decisions. He'd sent her helpers along the way—Catherine, Maddie.

And He'd sent her Clay. She had seen him as a specter of her past, a barrier to her future. Yet he had the shoulders on which she could lean when her own strength failed. Together, they could accomplish things neither did well alone. Look at their collaboration on the Seattle School, their efforts when the Spanish had attacked the ship.

She'd railed that he could not see her for who she was, but she'd been just as bad. She'd continued to compare him to the Clayton Howard she'd known, instead of seeing the man he had become. He wasn't a tool of his family; he'd forged his own future. She should never have kept him waiting for an answer.

She loved him. Once, she'd admired him from a distance. Now, she felt as if she truly knew him, and everything she saw she admired. Unlike his mother and cousin, he thought of others besides himself. She had only to consider his kindness to those aboard, his willingness to pitch in where needed, his patience with Gillian, to know his character. She'd tell him how she felt in the morning, that she was willing to follow him to Seattle or wherever the Lord led them. At last she fell asleep.

And woke to Maddie's hand on her arm.

“It's time you were up, sleepyhead,” she said with a smile. “Mr. Mercer has finally proven his mettle. He's arranged for us to stay in a fine hotel, until he can find a ship going north. That handsome Mr. Debro says transportation of a sort will be here shortly.”

That necessitated a flurry of dressing and packing. They had put away most of their belongings the previous night after the captain's announcement, including packing up the books Allie had purchased from Mercer with a promissory note from Clay. Now the beds had to be stripped, the linen stowed. But Maddie and Allie worked together, with Gillian giving a hand where she could, and soon they dragged their trunks out into the lower salon where a burly drayman stood waiting.

“These are going to the International and Fremont Hotel,” Maddie instructed him, brushing down her green wool skirts.

He tipped his cap before reaching for the strap of Allie's trunk. “That may be where yours is going, miss, but I have orders to take this one to Main Street.”

Allie paused in shaking out her own gray skirts to put out a hand and stop him. “Why? Has Mr. Mercer split our company in two locations?”

“I wouldn't know, miss.” He tugged on the strap as if to take the luggage from her.

Maddie latched on to the trunk. “Oh no you don't. That's all she has in this world. Until we know where you're taking it, it's going nowhere.”

“There's no need for concern, ladies,” said another man who had just entered the lower salon and was approaching their doorway. He was thin and dapper in his fitted brown coat and trousers of yellow-and-brown plaid. He tipped his top hat respectfully and nodded to Maddie and Allie in turn before smiling at Gillian, who was waiting in the doorway of the stateroom.

“Forgive the interruption, Mrs. Howard,” he said to Allie. “I'm here on behalf of your family. I know Mr. Clayton Howard has been working on his mother's behalf to see you safely this far. It's time you and Ms. Gillian were sent home, where you belong.”

Chapter Twenty

C
lay came into the lower salon in time to hear Allie lighting into someone. He'd dressed in his suit again that day, trousers pressed and collar crisp, intending to escort her and Gillian to the hotel, where he hoped to have a chance to talk to Allie about their future. But he took one look at her standing there with her hands on the swell of her gray gown, silk fringe trembling and eyes blazing, and he knew something was very wrong.

“I'm sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Howard,” the newcomer was saying. A small man, he had already taken one step back from her and now took another, hands worrying the brim of the hat he was holding. “But I'm only doing my job.”

“What's this about?” Clay asked, coming up beside them. He nodded to Gillian, who was standing in the doorway of their stateroom in her pretty plaid dress, hanging on to the doorjamb as if afraid to move away.

Maddie, who was sitting on Allie's trunk for some reason, her green skirts belled about her, leveled a finger at him. “Mr. Howard, I am highly disappointed in you, so I am. I thought you loved this lady!”

“It's all right, Maddie,” Allie said as Clay frowned. Her voice was firm, her head high. “I know Clay can't have ordered this.” She met his gaze forthrightly, but her own gaze was clouded with concern. “Clay, this man says he was employed by your family to bring us back to Boston. He says you made the arrangements.”

“That's a lie,” Clay declared, but the fellow whipped out a sheet of paper from his coat pocket.

“It's the truth!” He pointed to the words on the sheet. “This came from Gerald Howard himself. See the signature?”

Clay took the paper, and Allie gathered close to read it. Even Maddie hopped off the trunk to take a look.

“‘Detain the Howard women in San Francisco and help my family representative aboard ship return them to Boston,ʼ” Maddie read aloud. She glared at Clay. “Well, and what do you say about that?”

“Those are Gerald's words not mine,” Clay replied. He could feel his frustration growing, but he refused to let it brush Allie. There had to be some way to prove his innocence.

He turned to find her regarding him nearly as solemnly as Gillian usually did. His dastardly cousin had put doubts in her mind, and he wished the fellow was in front of him now so Clay could make him recant.

“I paid your way to Seattle, remember?” he tried. “Why would I do that if I was determined to return you to Boston?”

“Perhaps you were trying to earn our trust,” Allie said. Her hands tugged at the fringe edging on her skirt. “You implied as much yourself.”

“You were playing a game with us, now, was that it?” Maddie accused him.

“No.” He couldn't let Allie think that. “I'm still not sure Seattle is the best place for you, Allie, but I know it's wrong to drag you back to Boston.” He turned to the man, whose balding head came up as if expecting orders.

Clay was glad to give them. “Tell my cousin Gerald that Mrs. Howard and Gillian are safe with me, but they'll be deciding where they call home, not him or my mother.”

The man glanced among them, and Clay knew he saw determination on all sides. Even Gillian scampered out of the doorway to cling to her mother's skirts and glare at him.

“I don't like you,” she said, as if there could be any doubt.

He seemed to think that summarized everyone's feelings, for he clapped his hat on his head. “Very well, Mr. Howard. You'll be the one to take responsibility for all this.”

Maddie shook her head as he stalked away. “I beg your pardon, Clay. I should have known you'd never treat Allie so shabbily.”

“Of course he wouldn't,” Allie agreed. Her brow remained knit. “But what did you mean, Clay, that you still had doubts about Seattle? I thought you agreed I could handle myself there.”

Maddie took Gillian's hand. “Come along, Captain Howard. Let's say farewell to your ship and give your mother time for a quiet word with your uncle.” With a look at Allie, she led the little girl away.

Other women moved past, intent on seeing their own things safely off-loaded. Clay gave instructions to the drayman, then took Allie's elbow and led her to a table by the wall. So many times they'd sat here, talking about the past, planning how to teach the others about the future. Now it was their own future that concerned him.

“I don't question your abilities, Allie,” he told her as they took their seats for the last time. “I saw your face when we sailed into port yesterday. This wasn't what you expected.”

She dropped her gaze, hands bracing the smooth surface of the table. “No. I know you warned us, Clay, but somehow the vision wasn't real until I saw it rising up in front of me. It's so wild, so remote, so dusty.”

He nearly chuckled aloud at that. Dust was the least of their worries in Seattle.

“I understand how it can seem that way,” he promised her. “And I understand why you didn't believe me. You told me about my family, and somehow I couldn't believe they'd treat you and Gillian so cruelly. Now I've seen it for myself. Gerald had no right to order someone to detain you.”

She rubbed the sleeve of her dress. “I'm glad you were here to help us stand up to that man. Do you think he will be the last? Will your family accept your word?”

Clay smiled at her. “I'd like to see them try to stop us.”

She smiled at that. Clay reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I won't let anything happen to you, Allie.”

She rubbed her free hand over his, her smile turning soft. “You can't promise that, Clay. We don't know what tomorrow will bring. But I will go where you lead.”

He leaned across the table, and she met him halfway, lips touching, hands clasped. This was where he was meant to be, at her side, wherever the future took them.

He pulled back, and she laid her hand against his cheek. Clay took her fingers and pressed a kiss against her palm.

“How about we collect Captain Howard,” he said, “and make our farewells to the good ship
Continental?
”

Allie laid her hand against the white-paneled wall. “I will miss her. But I'll be glad to see trees again instead of endless waves.”

“You'll have to wait until we reach Seattle to get your fill of forests,” Clay advised her. He rose along with her, then tucked her hand into his arm. “But we should be able to find something interesting to do in San Francisco while we wait. Consider it an adventure.”

The adventure, however, came to them before they ever left the ship. Clay and Allie had just reached the deck when Maddie moved to meet them.

“Mr. Debro is only allowing folks off by twos, so he is,” she complained. “Sure'n you'd think we'd sailed on the ark!” She peered behind them. “Where's Gillian?”

Allie frowned. “I thought she was promenading with you.”

Maddie shook her head. “Mr. Reynolds said you were looking for her. I gave her into his care.”

Allie stiffened, but Clay was done seeing danger at every turn.

“Reynolds probably just wanted an excuse to pay his respects,” he told Allie. “We must have left the lower salon by one route while he and Gillian came in another.” He turned to Maddie. “Check the starboard entrance, Maddie. We'll take port.”

Maddie nodded, and they all hurried off.

Clay could feel Allie's tension beside him. She called her daughter's name as they descended to the lower salon, but no little voice greeted hers in return. Only a few women were left in the lower salon, and none had seen Gillian.

Now Clay felt the tension, as well. Reynolds might be opinionated, but evil? He had to have some logical reason for detaining Gillian.

“Mrs. Howard?” Mr. Debro approached them as they reached the deck again. His papers were once more in hand, as if he was taking great care to ensure none of his passengers or their baggage went astray this time.

“Ms. O'Rourke tells me Ms. Gillian is missing,” he said. “I cleared her to go ashore a few minutes ago with Mr. Reynolds. He had authority.”

“Authority!” Allie cried. “Whose authority?”

The purser glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Mr. Reynolds assured me he had both your permissions. He said he was acting on behalf of your family.”

* * *

Allie felt as if the ship had gone to sea again, the deck heaving. She clutched Clay's arm to keep from swaying.

“We assumed you were the Howard representative aboard,” she murmured, voice as weak as her knees. “It must have been Mr. Reynolds. That's why he was so quick to make himself known to us, why he always wanted to take Gillian ashore. He was looking for the opportunity to kidnap her!”

Clay put an arm about her waist, steadying her. “We'll find them,” he promised, and she could hear the steel behind his deep voice. “I may have been disowned, but I should have some influence on the family representatives here in California. I'll bring in the law if I must.”

Allie nodded, not trusting herself to speak, for she knew if she opened her mouth the most likely thing to come out would be a wail.

Lord, please, protect my little girl! Don't let Gerald or Mrs. Howard take her from me!

Mr. Debro cleared her and Clay to leave the ship immediately, and they hurried down the gangway and onto the wharf. The long, wide planks stretched from deep water in to shore, their lengths already scoured from the cargo and passengers who had passed this way. Laborers worked to load the ships waiting alongside the
Continental,
sending much-needed supplies to the territories and north. To Allie, none of that cargo could be half as precious as her daughter.

“This way,” Clay said, taking her hand and leading her through the maze of crates and barrels. Stacks of lumber nearly two stories high blocked her view. Men shouted to each other, calling orders, directing traffic. A little girl could be so lost in all this!

Allie was thankful Clay seemed to know his way. He brought her out of the forest of goods onto Folsom Street, taking her carefully across the crowded avenue and up along the stone buildings lining it.

“The two most logical places for him to go are the Howard offices just above the docks,” he explained, “or the headquarters on Main Street.”

“Main Street,” Allie told Clay, giving his hand a squeeze. “That's where that man wanted my trunk to be delivered. But why would Mr. Reynolds take her, Clay? What does he want?”

Clay's look was grim. “My guess is he hopes to hold her until you agree to return to Boston.”

Allie clung to his hand and to her hope. She waited for her fears to climb, prepared herself to fight them. But the anxiety she might once have felt seemed to have vanished in the mist covering the city. The memory of it was just as nebulous.

Thank You, Lord. I know it's Your doing. I won't let fear paralyze me again. You deserve better, and so do Gillian and Clay.

Clay turned the corner onto Main Street. They passed banks with wrought-iron lacework on the windows and tall buildings proclaiming the names of prominent lawyers and real estate agents. Ladies in stylish taffeta gowns and gentlemen in black coats and top hats strolled the boardwalk as if their business there could never be pressing. Some paused to frown as Allie and Clay hurried past.

On the corner stood a white stone building braced by columns of veined marble, brass door swinging open for customers.

“On the corner of Main and Howard,” Allie marveled. “How fitting.”

“I never claimed my family wasn't pretentious,” Clay said as he held the door open for her. “Once we amassed our fortune in shipping, we never let anyone forget it.”

The heels of their boots clattered against the marble tiles as they crossed the foyer and climbed the stairs for the second floor. There a wide balcony opened on to glass-topped doors with the name Howard painted in gold on the polished wood.

“Stay close,” Clay advised as he reached for the brass knob.

Allie could barely snap a nod of agreement before he pushed the door open.

Inside lay a waiting area lined with massive oil paintings in gilded frames and leather-upholstered benches tufted with brass pins that twinkled in the light. Allie didn't have a chance to notice anything else, for Gillian was perched on one of the benches, and her eyes lighted at the sight of Clay and Allie.

“Mother!” Gillian hopped off the bench, and Allie rushed forward only to have Reynolds step between her and her daughter. His face, once so pleasant, was as hard as the stone of the building. One hand gripped his walking stick as if he meant to use it on her.

“That's far enough, Mrs. Howard,” he said. “You have no authority here.”

“Only the authority of a mother,” Clay said, moving to her side. His hand on her shoulder was firm, confident. She knew she could count on him.

“Gillian,” she called, trying to see around Reynolds. “Are you all right?”

“I don't like that man,” Gillian said. “He said we'd look for mermaids. Everyone knows mermaids are on the water.”

Her little voice was so indignant Allie didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Clay raised his fists. “Let Gillian go, Reynolds,” he demanded. “You have no right to take her, and I'll be happy to tell the Howard agents that.”

“I sent them out to lunch.” Reynolds's smug smile felt like a slap. “It's just the three of us. And I have every right to Ms. Howard. You see, Frank Howard's will leaves his daughter in the care of her closest male relative. With your father gone and you disowned, her closest male relative would be my employer, your cousin Gerald Howard.”

“That can't be right,” Allie argued, but Clay stiffened.

“This isn't about returning Allie and Gillian to Boston, keeping them safe, is it?” he said to Reynolds, voice hard. “My mother may want her granddaughter back, but my cousin wants Gillian because she inherited Frank's estate.”