Night Winds (33 page)

John pumped his offered hand
. “Glad to see that you’re all right as well. When I stopped by Villa Rosa and found you hadn’t been there all night, I’m afraid I feared the worst.”

During the brief course of their conversation, Phillip learned that Frindly, his wife, and their three grown sons had passed the night in their house’s attic
. He learned, too, that his own house and servants had fared well in the storm.

“Will you need to take the day off?” Phillip asked him.

John shook his head. “My sons are helping. I thought I’d be needed at the business. You haven’t even asked about it.”

“Very well
. How bad is it? Do you know?”

“Certainly, there’s damage
. Even on the bay side, the water came quite high. The current inventory is gone for certain, but as for the structures, I don’t know. I’ll get started on it right away.”

Phillip thanked him before excusing himself to find Justine
. When he did, he could not have been more surprised if she’d sprouted wings.

A line of wounded people snaked out of each of the three examination rooms
. Some stood in puddles of their own blood, for many had cut bare feet in the wreckage. Others lay down on the filthy floors, too badly hurt to stand. Their groaning and weeping formed a wretched harmony, as a pitifully inadequate number of doctors, students, nuns, and civilian nurses moved among them and tried to determine which ones might be saved.

In the midst of the hideous disorder, Phillip was shocked to see Justine at work
. Instead of being unnerved by the presence of so many strangers, she seemed to forget her own infirmity. Though she still leaned on her cane, she moved quite capably to retrieve bandages and instruments for a bespectacled older nun.

Dr. Tuttle glanced up as Phillip entered the room
. “About time you got here, Phillip. We’ve cleared a couple of small offices to give ourselves somewhere to rest in shifts. One is mine; I keep some spare clothes there. Go put them on, and then get back here and pitch in, for God’s sake. We don’t have any room for gawkers.”

“Good to see you, too, Hiram,” Phillip told him, but the hopeless faces of the children moved him quickly to comply.

As much as he wished to find Shae’s body, here, at least, he might do some good. Here, he might save someone else the crushing grief that he now felt. He felt certain Shae would have approved of his decision.

*

By the time the carriage reached the red brick infirmary, Raymond Tisdale had lost consciousness again. Ethan wondered if the banker had decided to follow his wife and daughter to the grave.

Maxwell ran inside and tried to borrow a stretcher, but came back empty-handed
. “Every one’s in use,” he explained. “We’ll have to carry him, and then I’ll come back and move the coach.”

Ethan nodded, frowning
. This whole escapade was getting tiresome. Surreptiously, he pinched Tisdale, to see if the old man could be roused. No luck.

Well, then, there was nothing else to do but haul the man’s limp bulk inside
. He called away a couple of Negroes who were helping set up rows of tents and persuaded them to help. Fortunately, Tisdale was a much smaller man than his own father, so Maxwell and the two black men had little difficulty, especially since Ethan held the doors.

Inside was as chaotic as he’d feared
. He glanced about, and the snaking lines gave him the sinking feeling he would be waiting here all day. Damn. As if he had nothing better to do with his time. How could he check on the
El Dorado
, stuck here as he was?

Maxwell and the men laid out Tisdale like a corpse, though the man continued to breathe normally
. Ethan stifled an impatient curse. If Tisdale were going to expire anyway, he could at least have the good grace to do it quickly.

Soon, however, Ethan spotted a familiar face, one that might be of some assistance
. Phillip, who had unmistakably fallen back into the role of doctor, was carefully examining a young girl’s arm. Despite his own lack of training, Ethan could see the limb was badly broken.

“Phillip!” he called
. In spite of what had transpired between them in the past few days, Ethan had supported Phillip when no one else would. For that he felt that he was owed at least some consideration.

Phillip’s gaze flicked upward, and Ethan would almost swear he saw the hazel eyes darken
. Almost as if he’d guessed . . . No, of course he hadn’t. He was merely still angry over Rachel, and perhaps Shae as well.

“I need some help
. It’s Raymond Tisdale!” Ethan called, in the hope that a physician’s concern might override other emotions.

“As soon as I can get there,” Phillip answered before turning back to help the girl.

Ethan checked his pocketwatch to hide his irritation. One would think, that out of regard for their past friendship, that Phillip wouldn’t keep him waiting. But he did, for nearly twenty minutes, as he helped total strangers. And poor ones, Ethan guessed, from the cut and fabric of their soiled clothing. He shouldn’t even have to stand here, in among these people.

Phillip interrupted Ethan’s observations of the sartorial mishaps of those less fortunate
. “What happened to him?”

Before Ethan could answer, Phillip carefully ran his fingers across the old man’s scalp
. He pulled up Tisdale’s eyelids and looked into the pupils.

“Bricks,” Ethan answered
. “He was bringing his family to our home because his was badly flooding. Our west wing’s chimney came down on their carriage.”

Phillip looked up sharply.

“Rachel’s dead,” Ethan continued. “Her mother as well. It was quit
e
horrible, quite gruesome.”

“Oh, Rachel.” Phillip shook his head. “I am sorry, sorry for them both.”

“And your familiy? Shae?” Ethan’s heart thumped faster with the question.

“Shae and I were in a hous
e
It broke up in the storm. I was fortunate to get out with my life.
I
I haven’t seen her since, but under the circumstances . . . I delude myself to think she may still live.” Phillip continued to examine Tisdale in silence for a while. For some reason Ethan couldn’t guess, he poked and prodded the man in several places.

When finally he spoke again, anger had overtaken the deep sadness in his voice
. “My sisters are both here, Ethan, thanks to you. Your men’s mischief nearly killed Lydia. What I’d like to know is why.”

Ethan’s heart jumped and thudded even harder
. “Are you insane? Why would I harm Lydia?”

“Why would you try to kill
me
?” Phillip leveled his dark gaze like the barrel of a gun. “We’ll talk about this later, when I’m not so indisposed and you’ve had an opportunity to compose an adequate lie. But I know. Rest assure, I know what you’ve done, and in due time, there’ll be a reckoning between us.”

Ethan struggled to maintain his composure
. He was still reeling from the news that Shae was dead, and he’d like nothing better than to crush his former friend. Yet it wouldn’t do to provoke Phillip now, before he could safely deal with the problem. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Shae and Rachel are both gone. There’s no more now to come between us.”

“There’s been enough for a lifetime.”

Ethan began to fear the Phillip would strike him here, despite the crowd. But as he swallowed past a painful lump, Phillip shrugged on his professional demeanor like a well-made coat.

“Mr. Tisdale, I’m afraid, will soon join his family
. His pupils have already dilated, and his reflexes are gone. Swelling in the brai
n
there’s no one who could have helped him. I know the family is Episcopalian, but it couldn’t hurt to have Father Prescott say a few words.”

“How long?” Ethan asked.

“For the priest? I’ll see to it as soon as possible, but there are others dying. You’ve only to look around to see.”

Ethan shook his head
. “I mean how long before he dies. I don’t mean to sound callous, but I’ve other matters to attend.”

“Go, then
. One of my sisters will sit with him, and I wouldn’t want to keep a man of your ‘responsibilites’. Just be certain they don’t involve Ross Dawson or any of his cronies. Because if I find out you’re involved in anything even remotely suspicious, I don’t believe I have enough to lose to keep me from killing you.”

*

“Dear God,” Shae said as she gazed over the massive pile of wreckage. Tall as a three-story building, its length seemed nearly endless. A horse cart passed, heavily laden with dead bodies. Tears sprang to Shae’s eyes.

“I’ve been through some right bad blows, but I ain’t never seen the likes of this.” Harry glanced toward the houses that still stood, some just barely
. “Where to, Miss? I’d like to see you home safe before I try to find whatever’s left of the wharfage.”

Shae struggled to get her bearings
. So many landmarks had vanished that it took her several minutes to guess at their location.

A woman who’d been rushing past paused, stared at her curiously, then continued
. Shae ignored her, less concerned than ever with decorum. She’d been fortunate when Harry found a trunk belonging to a half-grown cabin boy. Though his knee breeches and brown shirt were not appropriate for a lady, Shae was happy to have anything at all to wear. Walking into town, she’d seen many survivors, stripped nearly naked by the storm, who would give much for the clothing she now wore.

“This way, I think,” Shae told the sailor
. “My family’s home is just a few blocks farther in.”

The thought of seeing her father frightened her, but she wanted to be certain nonetheless that he and her aunt had come through the storm safely
. Perhaps, if she just reassured herself the house was standing, she could saddle Delilah and then ride to Villa Rosa.

That thought terrified her even more than the chance of encountering King
. Again and again since this morning, she’d imagined climbing the stairs to that wide porch, asking Mrs. Kelso . . . and learning that Phillip Payton had been lost.

She swayed as dizziness and fear assailed her
. Harry grabbed her arm to steady her.

“Come on, Missy
. Like I said before, you need to chaw on this ship biscuit. Here, I brought some along with me. They’re teeth dullers, that’s for certain, but they’ll help to keep you on your feet.”

She nodded, grateful for his kindness, and accepted the pale cracker
. It was hard and tasteless as a brick of dust, but she chewed and swallowed dutifully. They continued walking as she ate, though fallen trees and animal carcasses prevented them from taking the most direct route.

She stopped gnawing on the biscuit when they reached Austin Street
. Fresh tears blurred her vision, and her throat grew far too tight to allow her to swallow. After several moments, she wiped her eyes with the back of her shirtsleeve and blinked, as if that action could somehow diminish what she saw.

Her hous
e
the beautiful white townhous
e
yet stood, despite the leveled wreckage all around it. The roof was gone, however, as well as several walls. What remained resembled a hollow, jutting stump more than a home.

With recklessness borne of horror, she clambered over a twisted fallen oak’s exposed roots and raced toward the steps that would take her to the front porch, and beyond that, the door
.

Except the steps were gone now, and the both floors’ porches sloped perilously, since the bases of the columns supporting them had been washed off their foundations
. Glancing upward, she saw all the way back to the kitchen, where a huge sheet of wallpaper slid damply to the floor.

“Don’t you dare go in there, Missy!” Harry shouted as he caught up with her
. “Whole bloody place could come down any minute.”

“But my father and my aunt could be inside!”

He shook his head. “It’s close to dark now. They’d be out already if they could. And if they can’t, then you don’t need to see ‘em.”

“I do, Harry
. I have to know for certain!”

“Here, then
. Let’s ask these blokes what’s what.”

As he turned toward the street, Shae heard a clatter from the ruined house
. A clatter of footsteps, she was almost certain.

Glad for the mobility of her borrowed clothes, she quickly climbed onto the porch deck, then passed through the gap where the front door had once stood
. She stepped carefully around huge shards of window glass.

The carpet was still damp and muddy; a fetid smell rose from it
. Here and there, the receding waters had made a gift of an unbroken plate, a candlestick, but for the most part, their things were either gone or ruined. The new medallion-back sofa lay across the porch. Its white fabric had been stained a muddy brown, and a drowned gull’s wings were splayed across the cushions.