Rescuing the Heiress (19 page)

“Yeah,” he answered gruffly. “I know. And I love you, too, even if you are crazy brave.”

That was enough to satisfy Tess. If this was a dream it was turning out exactly the way she'd always envisioned. And if it was real, as she hoped, she had just heard the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with say he returned her love.

“Thank You, Jesus,” she whispered, feeling a surprising surge of energy and a renewed lightness of her steps.

She gazed lovingly up at her gallant fireman. “You'll get us out of this. I know you will.”

“I'm sorry about your house.”

“It was just a building,” Tess said. Eyes inflamed and streaming tears in reaction to the constant irritation, she peered ahead. “Look! I think the smoke is clearing.”

Although he didn't immediately say he agreed, he did pick up their pace. When she had trouble moving fast enough to keep up with him, he swung her into his arms and carried her.

Tess wrapped her arm around his neck and hung
on tightly, placing her cheek against his shoulder as he began to trot. A sound rumbled deep in Michael's chest and at first she thought he might be crying.

Then, as they broke into the open and were able to see that they were truly safe, she realized he was laughing.

 

Bearing his wondrous burden into the center of the street where they'd be clear of any threat from either fire or collapsing structures, Michael set Tess on her feet and doubled over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Where are we?”

He rose and scanned their surroundings. “Columbia Street, I think.” Laughter continued to bubble up in spite of his breathlessness. “I can't believe it. We made it!”

“Only because of you.”

When she grasped his hand he realized he hadn't escaped unscathed. Although he tried not to show pain, she noticed his flinch and turned his palm up.

“What happened? When were you burned?”

He knew all too well and, given their shared elation, he figured this was a good time to tell her. “I think I did it putting out the fire in the back of your hair.”

Tess looked so astonished he had to assume she didn't remember.

“That was the main reason I dunked you in the horse trough. You do recall that, don't you?”

“Oh, yes.” She made a face as she glanced at her sopping skirt and jacket. “I thought you were trying to drown me.”

“Never,” Michael said, grinning so widely his cheeks ached. “I might consider spanking you if you tried anything that reckless again, though.”

She stepped back, hands fisted on her hips. “You wouldn't dare!”

Chuckling, smiling and shaking his head, he said, “You're right. I wouldn't. But not because I'm afraid of you, Miss Clark. I'd never lay a hand on you because I love you. I saw what that kind of rough treatment did to my mother and I want you to always trust me. I'd never harm you.”

Spreading his arms, he wordlessly invited her back into his embrace. As soon as she was snuggled against him he broke the news that he'd have to be getting back to duty.

Tess's hug tightened. “Must you?”

“Yes. Chief Walters released me to go after you but I owe him as much more work as I'm capable of. You have to understand that.”

“Of course,” Tess said, although she didn't sound very convinced.

“We can cut around to Powell and probably get through there, now that that part of the fire has burned out. When you rejoin your father and head for the park, remember that and try to travel where it's already burned. Just stay away from those idiots with the dynamite.”

“Blowing up things is not working very well, is it?”

Michael sighed, disgusted and discouraged. “It might have, in the right hands. Most of the men who were
given the job of placing the charges had no experience. I suspect they did more harm than good.”

As he drew her to his side and began to escort her toward their destination he realized how fatigued he was. Not only had he spent several a night without sleeping, he'd worked at top capacity since morning.

Smiling to himself, he glanced down at the precious woman beside him. He had vowed to give his life to save her if necessary and he would have kept that promise if it had come to that.

Now, however, his heart was overflowing with gratitude for the privilege of remaining with her. Their chances of mutual survival had been slim to none. Yet here they were. Together.

He bent to place a kiss atop her head, not minding the dampness of her hair or the perfume of smoke.

“I hope I didn't lose too much when it burned,” Tess said, patting the back of her neck to investigate. “I have a notion you like my hair.”

“I love
everything
about you and I always will, with or without your beautiful hair,” he said honestly.

She giggled. “Does that include my stubborn streak?”

“Let's just say I'm working on accepting that.” His laughter melded with hers. “I suspect it may take me a while longer, especially if you keep exercising it the way you did today.”

“I really am sorry I did such a stupid thing.”

“I know you are. Hopefully you're a lot smarter now.”

“I was smart enough to fall in love with you in spite
of my father.” She laughed softly, then went on. “You aren't going to believe the secrets I learned about him today. He and I are a lot more alike than I'd thought.”

“As long as he accepts me as I am and doesn't try to put me to work in his bank, I'll be satisfied,” Michael said.

“Oh, what a marvelous idea!”

He stiffened. His eyes widened and he stared at her. Then she followed her statement with another giggle and eased his mind. “Don't scare me like that. I thought you were serious.”

“Never,” Tess told him. “I love you just as you are. And I absolutely
adore
firemen.”

T
ess was astounded at the visible change of the whole area by the time she and Michael arrived at the spot where she'd left her father. The street was as wet as it would have been after a rain. Gangs of firemen had been uncoupling the hoses, breaking them into shorter lengths and rolling them up. Most of the steam pumpers had already left.

Michael took her hand, led her over to Chief Walters, and proudly announced, “I found her!”

When Tess saw the pathos in the other man's expression she was more than touched.

He and Michael had been sharing an exuberant handshake. As soon as they stopped, she also offered her hand. The chief took it. Like her, he was smiling through unshed tears.

“Thank you,” Tess said. “Thank you for letting Michael come after me.”

“Rules are made to be broken, especially in times like these,” Walters replied. He eyed her from head to toe. “Are you all right?”

“I will be.” Another coughing fit made her pause.

“It can take a long time to get over breathing in that much smoke,” he cautioned. “Be sure you take it real easy for a while.”

“I will.” Thinking of Michael having to go back to work and fight fire when he'd been exposed to as much flying soot and ash as she had, she was crestfallen. Part of that harm to his lungs was her fault. So was the burn on his hand.

She saw both men glance toward the idle automobile so she asked, “Is my father still around?”

“No,” Walters said. “He was acting ill so I sent him down the hill on one of the other engines.”

“Ill? Oh, dear!”

“Don't worry, miss. I doubt there was anything wrong with him that one look at you won't cure. He was so beside himself after he lost sight of you, he started raving and shouting but not making a bit of sense. He refused to listen to reason. I had to have some men force him aboard the pumper and hold him there to get him to leave.”

She felt Michael's arm tighten around her shoulders, offering the same moral support on which she had grown so reliant.

“How about letting me drive Tess?” he asked. “At least as far as my next assignment?”

To her relief and joy, the chief nodded immediately. “That's what I figured to do.” He began to smile. “I didn't see much point in your risking your life to get her this far and then making her walk all the way to the park.”

“Is that where you sent Papa?” she asked.

“Yes. Nurses and doctors who had to evacuate from the emergency center in the basement of city hall are set up in Golden Gate Park.” He nodded at Michael. “Our hose wagons will handle the rest of this mess. Drive the young lady as far as the park, then rendezvous at the ferry terminal again for new orders.”

Michael saluted. “Yes, sir.”

In parting, Tess once again reached for the chief's hand. “God bless you,” she said. To her amazement he nodded brusquely, then turned on his heel and strode away.

When she looked up at Michael there was shared sorrow on his face. He bent to whisper, “Chief Walters's wife was killed in the earthquake.”

“Oh, no.” Her hand went to her throat, her heart breaking for the poor man's loss. “No wonder he was so willing to let you come after me.”

“Yeah. I'd thought of that, too.”

Michael checked the harness on his team while she waited, then helped her climb onto the driver's seat before joining her.

She slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow, marveling at how natural that action had become. It seemed as if she and Michael were already one in the eyes of God, the way they truly would be after they were married.

She sighed, basking in his nearness and drinking in the blessings of their time together as though it might yet be limited. Her heart was torn between peace and
trepidation, happiness and grief, aspirations of a bright future and lingering dread.

Tightening her hold, she smiled at him. He mirrored the gesture. They were both still coughing at times but the hacking hoarseness seemed to be lessening. It hurt her to breathe deeply and her throat felt raw so she assumed Michael was also experiencing those detrimental aftereffects.

And he was headed back to face even more.

 

“I want you to promise me something,” he said, concentrating primarily on driving the team instead of watching Tess. He was afraid if he said what was on his mind and saw her start to cry he might not be able to keep his own emotions in check. The last thing he wanted to do was let her see him weep. Especially since he couldn't blame his tears on the effects of the smoke the way he had before.

“Of course. Anything.” She laughed lightly, nervously. “Well, almost anything.”

“Good girl.”

“I may be good, but I'm no longer a girl,” Tess argued genially. “I guess you noticed that.”

“Oh, yes.” Chancing a quick smile at her, he was amazed by how lovely she was, even in such a bedraggled condition. He chuckled. “You don't look quite up to snuff right now but I have an excellent memory. I remember you at your best.”

“I am a sight, aren't I?” Making a silly face at him, she started rubbing at the dirt streaking her soggy skirt.
“It's all your fault. This used to be a lovely afternoon outfit.”

“That's the problem, then,” he joked back. “There was nothing
lovely
about this afternoon. You wore the wrong dress to the party.”

“I must have. It's certainly ruined.” Shaking her head slowly, pensively, she stopped trying to spruce up her clothing. “Given what I went through while wearing it, I'm glad it can't be salvaged. I'd certainly not want to put it on again. Too many bad memories.”

That was the perfect opening for Michael to speak. No matter how hard it was to voice these thoughts, he knew it must be done. Soon.

“Speaking of memories,” he said, fighting to keep his tone even and his voice strong, “I want you to promise me that if anything should happen to me, today or any day, you'll go on with your life and keep trusting the Lord.”

“Don't be silly. Nothing's going to happen to you.”

“Just the same, I want your promise.”

“Oh, Michael. How can you ask that of me? I don't even want to think about what my life might be like without you.”

He held firm. “Promise, Tess. Say it. I need to hear it from you.”

“It's that important to you?”

“Yes. It's that important.”

Waiting, he could feel her trembling, even through the sleeve of his heavy coat. She had a tender heart, a
woman's heart, despite all her bravado and the outlandish emancipation ideas she'd adopted.

“All right,” she finally said. “I promise that if anything happens to you to keep us from getting married I will go on with my life.”

He would have felt a lot better about her vow if she had not followed it with, “But if you think you're going to weasel out of marrying me, Michael Mahoney, you'd better think again.”

 

It would have pleased Tess to have arrived at the family camp aboard the fire engine and been able to show it off to the children, at least. Unfortunately, Michael stopped outside the park perimeter.

“You'll need to walk from here,” he said. “Can you manage?”

“Yes.” Every fiber of her being kept insisting that she could not possibly leave him, yet she knew she must. When he kept hold of the reins instead of climbing down to assist her, she was puzzled.

Michael gave her his trademark Irish grin and wound the three pair of lines around the brake lever before opening his arms. “Come here, darlin'. Kiss your future husband goodbye.”

“That's more like it,” Tess said, throwing herself into his embrace. “You had me a little worried.”

“Never worry about my love for you, no matter what,” he whispered against her cheek, his breath tickling her ear. “I'll love you forever.”

That was almost more than Tess's fragile frame of
mind could bear. He sounded as though he was bidding her a final farewell because he didn't expect to return. The mere thought of that happening made her heart clench.

Leaning away just far enough to cup his beard-roughened cheeks in her hands, she held his face still and gazed into his eyes, willing him to share her belief. “You are coming back to me, do you hear? I am not going to take no for an answer. You know how stubborn I am, right? Well, this is how it's going to be.”

To her relief, he didn't look angry. On the contrary, his smile spread. “Are you finished?”

“Yes,” Tess said, “providing you've been listening to me.”

“I've been listening.”

“Then don't even think of arguing.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She knew he was teasing her by making fun of her seriousness but she didn't care. This was the note on which she wanted them to part—happy, smiling and sharing a kiss that would carry them both through to the end of this crisis.

Pulling him closer, her hands still holding his cheeks, she placed her lips on his and felt his tender response. She knew they both looked a fright and that neither cared one iota. All that mattered was this expression of love and the promise of a bright future.

Tess held on even after Michael started to ease her away. Her eyes were closed, her heart open.

“We're drawing a crowd, darlin',” Michael drawled.
“I think I'd best let you jump down and be on my way. Don't want the good citizens of San Francisco complaining about misuse of fire department equipment.”

Her eyes popped open. He was right! “Oh, my! We do have an audience, don't we?”

“Afraid so.” Taking her hand, he helped her step past his booted feet to the edge of the platform, then carefully lowered her over the side of the pumper till she gained her footing.

That was when the applause and cheering began. Tess's cheeks flamed. Unsure of what to do, she simply curtsied as if answering a curtain call from the stage of the opera.

Atop the engine Michael removed his hat and took his own bow, much to the added delight of passersby, before calling to the team and starting to pull slowly away.

Stepping back, Tess waved gaily after him, hoping he hadn't spied her misty eyes. She was not going to cry. Especially not in front of him. He
would
come back to her.

He must. Because if he didn't there was no way she'd be able to keep her promise and go on with her life. Whether he realized it or not, Michael Mahoney
was
her life.

 

The route Tess followed to wend her way through the masses of tents was, by necessity, meandering. The actual distance from the gate to their camp, however, was short. Tess was more than glad of that since her legs
ached from running almost as much as her ribs and chest did from coughing.

She would have liked to make herself more presentable before returning to friends and family but if what the chief had said was true, poor Papa wouldn't care how dreadful she looked.

Ducking around a clothesline that some optimistic soul had hung between two trees to dry laundry, she burst into the clearing with a light heart and heavy limbs. Weariness threatened to overcome her at any moment.

Annie was the first to give an ecstatic shriek and alert everyone. In seconds Tess was surrounded by the other women and the two older children, all hugging her, babbling and shouting questions that were so overlapped none were clear.

“Wait. Please,” Tess said, holding up her hands. “I'll tell you everything soon.” She scanned the campsite. “But first I need to see Papa. Is he here?”

“Sleeping,” Mary said. “Rose got a powder from one of the nurses and we put it in his coffee. He's finally resting. He was in a sorry state. Near hysterical, he was. Such a pity.”

“I know. I heard,” Tess replied. “They told me it was all because of me. I must see him.”

Edging past the children and giving them each a pat on the head, she was relieved that neither they nor the adults insisted on following her.

Shadows inside the shelter were made deeper by the layer of soot that had accumulated on the outside. She paused. The still form of Gerald Clark lay on a pallet in
the midst of what few household goods they had managed to gather.

Tess's hand went to her throat. Her jaw dropped open. She stared and whispered prayerfully, “Thank You, Jesus.”

It made sense to want to weep for joy when she and her father were finally reunited. What she had not expected was to be so shocked by his appearance. Papa had always seemed invincible. Strong. Competent. Now, lying there with his back to her he looked frail, his gray hair mussed and his clothing rumpled and grimy.

She approached him slowly, quietly, giving thanks that his breathing was even and his rest apparently untroubled.

Pausing behind him and looking down, she spied a second surprise. There, cradled in the sanctuary provided by the curve of her father's sleeping form, lay the darling orphan child she had rescued. The baby's fingers were curled around Papa's hand and she, too, was fast asleep.

Unembarrassed and astonished, Tess just stood there and gazed at the unexpected sight. After everything that had happened to them and to the whole city she knew she was being given a special gift. Seeing Papa—her papa—showing tenderness to a child that wasn't even his own was more than unforeseen. It was unbelievable.

Rare blessings like this one might be occurring all over the city, she realized. Even terrible catastrophes could result in changes for the good.

The babe stirred. Tess saw her father gently stroke its curly, blond hair and heard him whisper, “Hush.”

Rather than startle him by announcing her presence and perhaps frighten the little child as well, Tess quietly fell to her knees beside the pallet, rested her hand on his shirtsleeve and merely said, “Papa.”

Gerald sat bolt upright, jaw gaping, and clamped her in an embrace that was so tight it hurt. “Tess! I thought…”