The Doctor's Newfound Family (17 page)

T
he stuffiness of the tiny upper room was growing unbearable. Sara Beth tried to open the small window. It had apparently been closed for so long that it was stuck tight, because no matter how hard she strained it wouldn’t budge.

She sighed, wishing she were down on the lawn in the fresh air with the children. Patience had never been one of her virtues, as she was being constantly reminded. She might have many pleasing traits such as kindness, forbearance, love, joy in adversity, forgiveness…

The instant she had that particular thought, she was penitent. She was not forgiving. Not the way the Good Book said she should be. She was holding a grudge against the man whom she believed had
had her parents killed and she didn’t see any way to stop hating him for the horrible things he had done.

That was probably the key, she reasoned. It was all right to hate evil acts, but not to hate the person who carried them out. Sadly, she could not manage that either.

She immediately visualized William Bein. He may not have been directly responsible for Papa Robert’s and Mama’s deaths, but he had certainly taken advantage of them. And who was to say for certain that he had not been the evil force behind everything? Papa had visited the wharf that night to speak with someone he had caught cheating. Who fit that description better than dear old Uncle William?

Taking a deep breath and releasing it as a sigh, Sara Beth was surprised to catch a whiff of a strange, acrid odor. She frowned. In the dimness of the moonlit garret she couldn’t spot any source of such a smell, yet…

She sniffed. Followed her nose. It took her to the stairwell she had climbed to gain access to the abandoned room. Continuing to inhale slowly, thoughtfully, she made up her mind.

Smoke.
It was smoke she was smelling. It was drifting up the stairway and starting to infiltrate the
tiny room. That was why all the children had been taken outside. The orphanage was on fire!

Heart pounding, she spun in a circle, trying to decide what to do. There was no way out that she could see. Her one best hope was probably staying as far from the flames as she could until someone rescued her.

“Only no one knows where I am,” she lamented. “No one but God.” Her eyes widened as she noted the smell of burning wood increasing.

One thing was certain. The same Heavenly Father who had given her a useful intellect would expect her to use it rather than simply sit there and become a victim of her own lack of initiative. But what could she do? And how long might it be before someone found her?

Determined to isolate herself from the acrid air as much as possible, she whipped off her petticoats and hurried down the stairs to stuff them at the base of the door. That would buy a little time. So would finding a source of breathable air.

It took her only a moment to decide to break out the stuck window. Grabbing the chair, she struck the glass with its ladder-shaped back. Once. Twice. Nothing happened.

Finally frantic enough to use her full strength, she managed to crack the heavy glass. It shattered
in a starburst pattern that she was then able to break away from the frame. Leaning out, she took deep, cleansing breaths. Night air from the bay had never smelled better.

Now that there was nothing but open space between Sara Beth and the people on the lawn, she began to shout. “Help! Up here. I’m trapped!”

To her dismay, there was so much racket and mayhem going on below, no one even looked up.

She tried again and again. Nothing.

“Father, what shall I do?” she prayed, panicking.

The chair!
That was it. If she could throw it out the window, perhaps someone would figure out where it came from and send aid.

Hefting it once more, she tried to fit it through the narrow sash. It was no use. The window frame was at least three inches narrower than the seat of the old chair. And it was the smallest thing in the nearly empty room.

“What else? Think,” she murmured, thoroughly frustrated and at a loss as to how to help herself. This was maddening. She felt like screaming, like kicking the wall, like smashing everything in sight.

“That’s it!”

Reaching for the chair once again she drew back and swung it the way she would have a wire rug beater. It met the sturdy bed frame with a crack and
started to splinter. Two more hard whacks and the back parted from the seat.

Sara Beth raced to the window. She could see a man-drawn fire wagon being tugged up the driveway by countless firemen and volunteers. Soon they would be in place to start battling the blaze.

But would they have it under control in time to save her life? She didn’t know. All she could do at this point was start flinging parts of the broken chair out the window in the hopes that someone would notice.

That, and screech at the top of her lungs. Given the level of noise below, she knew her efforts in that regard would probably be futile. Nevertheless, she tried.

“Help! I’m up here. Look, somebody. Look at me!”

Taylor was back inside the building, searching from room to room the way he had before the fire had started. He couldn’t take the chance that Sara Beth had made it downstairs, only to lose consciousness.

That thought chilled him to the bone. She had to be all right. She had to be. He couldn’t lose her.

“Sara Beth,” he shouted. “Where are you? Answer me.”

Most of the smoke had stayed on the upper floors, the same way it rose up a chimney, and it lay like
bay fog in a cloud that extended halfway to the landing on the main stairwell. If he was going to move toward that, he’d need to cover his mouth and nose.

Dashing to the kitchen, he whipped off his coat and shoved it into a pail of water that was awaiting the cooks. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do, he reasoned, quickly soaking the jacket.

He pressed the wet wool cloth to his face like a mask and returned to the stairs. Sara Beth was obviously not on the ground floor. There was only one thing to do. He had to enter the fire zone to search. No other plan was acceptable.

The chair back was the first to go. It sailed out over the mansard roof and dropped out of sight. “Help,” Sara Beth screeched. “Up here. Help!”

She followed with the spindle legs, then stomped on the seat to try to break it more. When it refused to crack, she upended it and heaved it out the window vertically. It was, unfortunately, so heavy that it didn’t clear the edge of the roof.

Turning, hoping to find some other object she might have overlooked, she was stunned to see that there was now a lot of smoke rising from the stairwell. As it reached the main room it headed straight for the open window.

By breaking the glass she had evidently created an updraft that was going to suck the fire right to her!

As Taylor crested the stairs, he could tell that the fire’s origin was at the far end of the hallway. Thankfully, it seemed confined to an area where there were no bedrooms so the children had been able to escape. If it had started mid-hallway instead, there would surely have been numerous victims trapped.

Peering at the blaze, he was taken by the fact that it seemed so isolated. There was really no fuel in that area other than the walls and floor, yet it was burning with a high, hot flame. The kind of flame that the oil from a dropped lamp might produce.

He paused for the length of a heartbeat to assess the situation. If the firemen didn’t get water on this conflagration soon, it could easily claim the whole building. He lowered his wet coat and thought about trying to beat out the fire with it, then concluded that that effort would be futile.

An object within the flames caught his eye. It looked for all the world as if a fancy side chair had been placed in the middle of the inferno. Why in the world would a chair be parked in front of a door like that?

He racked his memory. Where did that door lead? He didn’t recall ever opening it, yet it must
have been of some use, at least in the days when the mansion had been a private home. He supposed it could be a closet, but if that were the case, then why prop a chair at such an awkward angle in front of it?

There was no way Taylor could find out without breaching the worst of the fire, and he was not about to do something so reckless.

His first instinct was to continue checking the bedrooms, but since Mrs. McNeil had assured him that that had already been done, perhaps he’d be wasting his time.

He hesitated, thinking, wondering, praying. If he wanted to ask about that strange door he was going to have to return to the lawn and find someone who knew. He didn’t understand why the urge to do so was so compelling. He could not seem to shake it no matter how much he argued with himself.

“Sara Beth needs me,” he kept insisting.

Yes, she does,
his heart answered.
And if she’s truly trapped behind that door, she may already be dead.

That was more than Taylor could take. Giving no thought to his own well-being, he wrapped his wet coat around his forearm, held it up like a shield against the heat and charged at the burning chair.

The heat was intense. The flames singed his hair and eyebrows. He kicked the remains of the chair
away with his boot and tried to grab the knob. It made his hand sizzle.

Shouting in agony, he sheathed his palm in a piece of the coat and tried to twist the handle once again. He was already nauseated by the pain. If he didn’t get the door open this time he was going to have to give up or risk collapsing where he stood.

“What was that?” Coughing, Sara Beth strained to listen. By now, the crackle and roar of the fire was so loud she wasn’t positive she’d actually heard a shout.

Nevertheless, she screamed again. “Help! Help me.”

A mighty whoosh of air carried billowing smoke clouds up the stairway.
Oh, no!
The door must have burned away and now there was no barrier between her and the blaze.

She backed toward the window, wondering if it would be possible to squeeze through such a small opening. Probably not, she decided, although trying to do so was starting to look like her only chance of surviving.

The black smoke whirled. Eddied. Sara Beth’s eyes burned. Her throat felt as though it was closing. She gasped and coughed so hard it doubled her over.

Suddenly, strong arms grabbed her and for an instant she wondered if she had died and was being
taken to heaven in the arms of an angel. Then, she realized that her prayers had been answered in the best way. Taylor Hayward was beside her.

She threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

“How did you get up here?” he asked, gasping and hacking worse than she was.

“Somebody was chasing me. They blocked the door.”

“I saw. If he hadn’t done it with a chair I might not have found you in time.”

Her eyes were watering from the smoke and she was weeping with joy at the same time. “That other door,” she said, pointing. “It’s locked.”

Taylor kept an arm around her as he shepherded her across the room. He didn’t even pause to try the knob. He simply kicked the door with the sole of his boot and it sprang open.

In mere seconds they were on their way down an outside stairway and headed for the garden. Sara Beth was doubly thankful that he had not let go of her because she wasn’t sure how steady she’d be if he did.

As far as she was concerned, if Taylor never left her side again it would be just fine with her.

T
hey emerged into a small, secluded side garden that was hemmed on three sides by manicured hedges. There was plenty of shouting and other noise in the background, but they were temporarily alone.

Sara Beth faltered, coughing and gasping for breath as they made their way to a stone bench.

She sat first. Taylor plopped down beside her. He was also struggling to get enough air.

“The children…are they…safe?” she asked, wheezing.

He nodded. “Yes. The staff got them all out. Everybody was on the lawn, except you.”

“How…how did you find me?”

He coughed again, then managed a smile. There
was moisture glistening in his eyes that she hoped was not simply an adverse reaction to the smoke.

“Divine providence again, I guess.” He took her hand. “I was puzzled by that chair in front of the door in the hallway. There was just something about it that didn’t look right. I don’t know why I felt so strongly except that perhaps the Good Lord was guiding my thoughts.”

“That sounds good to me,” she replied. The tender, loving expression on his face touched her deeply. She reached across to caress his cheek and felt the coarseness of a beginning stubble. “You need a shave, Doctor.”

“No,” Taylor said as he covered her hand with his own. “What I need is you.”

She was thunderstruck. Was he saying what she thought he was? Could it be? Nothing in her personal life had changed for the better. She was still responsible for her brothers and Papa Robert’s reputation was still under a cloud.

“Close your pretty mouth,” he said, starting to grin. “You’re gaping at me.”

“Little wonder. You aren’t making sense. Did the fire unhinge you?”

“If that was what it took to wake us up to our true feelings for each other, then it was for the best. Whoever set that blaze did us a favor.”

“He did?”

“Yes. He did,” Taylor said as he enfolded her in his embrace. “I had come here tonight to explain myself and to beg you to forgive me. To grant me the chance to court you.”

“I think it’s already too late for that,” Sara Beth said, leaning her cheek against his strong shoulder. She felt as if she could hear the rapid pounding of both their hearts. She could certainly feel the racing of her own.

“Then I suppose I shall have to do the right thing and ask for your hand in marriage,” he said. “Since you lack parental guidance, perhaps Mrs. McNeil will suffice.”

“Or old Abe Warner,” Sara Beth offered. “I can just hear him laughing at the both of us over it.”

Taylor sobered. “We will have to wait to actually marry, of course.”

Her brow furrowed and she leaned away to look at his face. “Why?”

“Because I can’t properly provide for you and your family yet. I promise I’ll do my best to save for the day when I can.”

“Oh.” The joy of his proposal remained. The excitement of becoming his bride, however, quickly faded. “I suppose that is sensible.”

“Very.”

“It’s also too bad. I really do want to leave this place and have a real home again.” The moment she’d spoken she realized that he might misunderstand.

“Is that why you’re agreeing to marry me?”

“No. Of course not. No more than you were hesitant to ask because of my father’s reputation. I can see that now. We’ve both been trying so hard to behave properly in a difficult situation that we’ve lost sight of how we feel about each other. That’s the most important thing.”

Pausing and gazing into his eyes, she swallowed hard before she added, “I love you, Taylor. I have for ages.”

This time, there was no doubt in Sara Beth’s mind that he was touched. When he said, “I love you, too,” his eyes glistened with unshed tears and there was so much affection in his expression that it stole her breath and made her giddy.

Sara Beth suddenly understood that this was the kind of overwhelming love and devotion Mama had found with Papa Robert, the kind that had made her follow him to the wharf and willingly sacrifice her life to try to save his.

And she could finally forgive her mother for leaving her family the way she had. It was a shock to realize that she had blamed her parents for the
decisions that had ended their lives so early. But she had. And that had led her to question God, as well.

Yet here she sat, looking forward to the future and a whole new life with Taylor Hayward. Who knew? Perhaps she would continue to learn medicine at his side and someday fulfill that dream, too.

The way she saw it, at this point in her life, the future held nothing but possibilities and opportunities.

Cuddling closer, she closed her eyes and thanked her Heavenly Father for bringing her and her loved ones through the fire. Literally.

Taylor soon led Sara Beth back to the front lawn and reunited her with Mrs. McNeil, then wrapped a loose bandage around his burned hand before he went to fetch the boys. He intended to suggest that they welcome their sister and celebrate survival with her. To his relief and delight, even Luke seemed amenable to the idea.

“Is she okay?” the eleven-year-old asked. He and Mathias were tagging along while Taylor carried Josiah.

“She breathed a lot of smoke, but she’ll be fine.”

“Are you okay?” The boy was eyeing his bandaged hand.

“Yes. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“How did the fire start?”

“How?” Taylor gave him a withering glance and stayed stern in spite of the obvious fact that the boy was worried. “Suppose you tell me.”

“I didn’t do it!”

“No, but I suspect your friend did. What happened to him, anyway? Where did he go? I haven’t seen him since he crashed into me on the stairs. That was just about the time I first saw the flames.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was supposed to.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Luke argued. “If the house was on fire he wouldn’t have time…”

“Right. To steal anything. I had that part already figured out, assuming that was his goal. Where did you meet him, anyway?”

“Down by the docks. You saw.”

“
That’s
where I remember him from. You’re right. I did see you two together.” He hesitated, mulling over what he knew. “That gang of rowdies just came up to you and took you in? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes. So?”

“So, it doesn’t make sense unless they knew who you were and where you were living.”

“They wanted to rob the orphanage?”

Taylor was slowly shaking his head. “I thought
so at first, but now I’m not so sure. Think back. When you met them, did they ask you anything about your family, your sister in particular?”

Judging by the way the color drained out of the boy’s face, Taylor assumed he was onto something. “They did, didn’t they? What did they want to know?”

“Nothing much. Just what her name was and where she was staying. I thought they were worried that my parents would wonder where I was and wanted to make sure I didn’t have any.”

“Did they ask about your brothers? The rest of your family?”

Luke was trembling and wide-eyed when he answered, “No.”

Firemen had not been able to draft through their hand pumper at the orphanage the way they did from the city’s cisterns, so they had formed a bucket brigade to keep the reservoir full. They were already manning the hose and getting the worst of the fire under control by the time Sara Beth saw Taylor returning with the boys.

She opened her arms to Josiah and was a bit chagrined when he recoiled.

“I think you and I are too dirty and smoky for his taste,” Taylor explained. “He wasn’t thrilled when I picked him up, either.”

“Of course.” She grimaced at her sooty hands and used the back of her wrist to push loose hair off her forehead. “I must look a fright.”

The doctor laughed. “You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen, Miss Sara Beth.”

“And you are prejudiced.”

“Decidedly so.” Passing Josiah to Mrs. McNeil, he grinned. “I suppose I should speak my piece since there will probably never be a better time.”

She glanced briefly toward her elder brothers. They were standing back as if they sensed something significant was about to happen. “You haven’t thought about all this and changed your mind, have you? It is a lot to take on.”

“I would adopt a hundred children if it pleased you,” Taylor said, continuing to grin widely. He turned to the matron. “Mrs. McNeil, it is my desire to have this young lady’s hand in marriage. May I have your blessing?”

Giggling, Ella blushed and nearly jumped up and down with glee. Sara Beth suspected she might have done so if she had not been toting Josiah on her hip. “Mercy sakes, yes. I thought you two young people would never see the light. I was running out of ways to throw you together.”

Stepping closer to Taylor, Sara Beth was not at all
surprised to feel his arm encircle her shoulders once again. This was life as it should be, she mused. All else paled in comparison to her feelings for her beloved.

The way she saw the situation, there was only one more obstacle to their happiness. They needed to clear her stepfather’s name and regain possession of the house on Pike Street. Taylor might not have thought of it yet, but that building was the perfect location. She would use the house for business as she had once planned, only it would not house a millinery, it would become a doctor’s office. Taylor Hayward’s office.

She began to smile. Let him try to postpone their wedding then.

The
Bulletin
printed a string of revealing articles over the course of the next few months that led to a rapid shakeup in San Francisco politics.

Taylor had been initially worried about repercussions, but by July the Vigilance Committee had hanged several more miscreants and had driven Chief Justice Terry out of town. Then they had quietly disbanded. General Sherman had resigned in frustration and had been replaced by General Volney Hayes, a lawyer and former member of congress from Texas, so things were finally getting back to normal.

It was Taylor’s pleasure to bring news of William Bein’s arrest for embezzlement. He found Sara Beth in the kitchen garden, digging onions.

“Hello there.”

Grinning, she whirled and dusted off her hands. “Taylor! I’m so glad to see you. If I had known you were coming I would have washed up and put on a pretty frock.”

“You look beautiful to me,” he said, ignoring the dirt and taking her hands. “I brought news.”

“What?”

“Your nemesis has been arrested for robbing the U.S. Mint. The investigators watched him till they caught him red-handed. He even admitted the theft.”

“Really? Oh, my. What about Papa Robert? Did Bein’s confession clear him?”

“It looks like it may. According to Tom King, the United States Grand Jury is planning to indict their boss, Augustin Harazthy. Once that happens, the whole truth should come out.”

The look of relief on her face was so immeasurable he didn’t know what else to say. Instead of more words, he decided to let his actions speak for him.

Tilting her chin up with one finger, he placed a gentle kiss on the lips he had yearned to kiss again
for literally months. When she melted against him, he was astounded by how perfect she was. How lovely. How dear.

He stepped back, staggered by the effect of that one simple kiss.

Sara Beth’s eyes held a dreamy look and her lips began to lift in the whisper of a smile. She sighed before she said, “I thought you would never get around to doing that again.” The smile spread to include her eyes, her rosy cheeks. “It was even better than the first time.”

“Perhaps you’re learning,” Taylor teased.

“Or you are,” she countered, laughing. “Let’s just promise to keep practicing till we’re sure it’s perfect.”

“You are already so perfect it takes my breath away,” he confessed. “I don’t know how much longer I can continue to be the kind of gentleman you deserve.”

“Then I suggest you stop stalling and marry me,” Sara Beth said boldly. She took him by the hand. “Come. I have something special to show you.”

Although he knew he wasn’t financially ready to take a bride, he also knew it was not fair to Sara Beth to keep delaying. She was a good woman. She deserved a proper wedding and a suitable home. He had saved some money but not nearly enough to set
up housekeeping. What could he do? What should he do?

She led him into the kitchen and pointed to the table. “Sit there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, much to Clara’s—and Sara Beth’s—obvious amusement.

“I had not heard about William Bein’s arrest, but I did receive an official document from the court this morning.” She reached into her apron pocket and unfolded a piece of paper. “It says that the title to the family house and property is mine.”

Taylor started to rise, intending to give her a congratulatory hug. She stopped him with an upraised hand. “Wait. There’s more.”

“More? What else was there?”

“Just this,” she said as she reached into a cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out a slab of wood. “I had it made from the mahogany that was salvaged from the upstairs hall after the fire. I couldn’t think of a better source, and I wanted it as a memento, too.”

Flipping the board around, she proudly displayed it.

Taylor was afraid he was going to disgrace himself by weeping. He blinked as he struggled to control his emotions. It was a new shingle. A sign that declared, “Doctor Taylor Hayward” in gilt letters. Below that was the address on Pike Street.

It took him several seconds to see what she was getting at. “How could you have known to do that?”

“I didn’t,” Sara Beth said. “It was just a dream I had and I figured it was best to act as if I were positive it would come true.” Grinning, she handed him the sign. “We’ll not only have a place to live, you’ll be able to stop paying rent on a separate office and we’ll have plenty of extra money.”

Laughing, he laid aside the sign and stood to embrace her. “When you get your mind set on something you don’t give up, do you?”

“No, I don’t. You should be delighted because that means I’m never going to stop loving you.”

“And I will always be totally yours,” Taylor vowed. “Set a date. We’re getting married just as soon as we can.”