Rescuing the Heiress
Rescuing the Heiress
Valerie Hansen
Indulge your fantasies of delicious Regency Rakes, fierce Viking warriors and rugged Highlanders. Be swept away into a world of intense passion, lavish settings and romance that burns brightly through the centuriesValerie Hansen's basic nature is to see the humorous side of life and enjoy every day to the fullest.She's always loved stories about people who have successfully met life's challenges and gone on to find happiness, so writing joyful love stories is a perfect outlet for her. Her personal life sounds a lot like a romance novel. She married her high school sweetheart and they raised two great kids before leaving California to pursue their dreams of a rural lifestyle in the Arkansas Ozarks.That relocation has also given her work a new, more spiritual focus than ever before. Valerie had gone to Sunday school as a child and attended church off and on as an adult, but didn't really understand what was missing in her spiritual life until daily problems drove her to seek answers from a closer relationship with Jesus Christ. What a surprise! And what a difference in outlook. In the years that followed, she was continually amazed at the extraordinary opportunities that came her way. She still is.Valerie has always loved to write. That, and the strong conviction that this is what she was meant to do, led her to Steeple Hill and the Love Inspired series. Besides extensive research, she has plenty of interesting experiences to draw upon when creating stories: She's been a veterinary assistant, teacher's aide, volunteer fire department dispatcher, Emergency Medical Technician, bank worker, professional artist, store clerk, bookkeeper, 4-H leader, Sunday school teacher, gospel singer/songwriter, winning quiz show contestant, dog trainer, college extension-class instructor, and antique restorer. She's built dulcimers and a psaltery, laid bricks and tile, designed stained-glass windows, roofed a house, decorated store windows for the holidays, helped pour cement, raised fancy guinea pigs and finches, driven a long-haul moving van, and was once the proud owner of 23 Newfoundland dogs at one time. Her advice? Don't try that at home!Valerie and her husband now live on an 80-acre farm in northern Arkansas. She loves to hike the rocky, wooded hills behind the picturesque old house they renovated, watch for the wildlife so abundant in the area and think up new ideas for her books. She's always been a dreamer, a romantic who invented happier endings for books and movies that didn't already end on a lighthearted note. She was an adult before she realized that everybody didn't automatically do the same thing!Valerie Hansen can be reached at: P. O. Box 13, Glencoe, AR 72539-0013. Or via e-mail at: val@valeriehansen. com.
“I don’t believe I have ever seen so many women gathered in one place before. There must be thousands.”
Tess tensed. “Wait. How will you find us again if we go inside without you?”
“I could probably spot you in the crowd by your pr… By your hair,” Michael said.
“You were going to say pretty, weren’t you?” She smiled, amused by the way his cheeks grew more ruddy.
“It would be wrong of me to mention such things, Miss Clark.”
That made her laugh softly. “But I would find it delightful if you did. Does that embarrass you, Michael?”
“Of course not.”
He brought the buggy to a halt, then quickly helped her alight. “I’ll find you.”
She knew that her eyes must be twinkling, because she was keenly amused when she shouted back, “And how will you do that, sir?”
Michael paused just long enough to lean down from his perch. “By your beautiful, dark red hair.” Then he flicked the reins and the horse took off.
VALERIE HANSEN
was thirty when she awoke to the presence of the Lord in her life and turned to Jesus. In the years that followed she worked with young children, both in church and secular environments. She also raised a family of her own and played foster mother to a wide assortment of furred and feathered critters.
Married to her high school sweetheart since age seventeen, she now lives in an old farmhouse she and her husband renovated with their own hands. She loves to hike the wooded hills behind the house and reflect on the marvelous turn her life has taken. Not only is she privileged to reside among the loving, accepting folks in the breathtakingly beautiful Ozark mountains of Arkansas, she also gets to share her personal faith by telling the stories of her heart for all of Steeple Hill’s Love Inspired lines.
Life doesn’t get much better than that!
Rescuing the Heiress
Valerie Hansen
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life…with your right hand you save me, Lord.
—Psalms 138:7
My husband was a firefighter, my son still is and my daughter also volunteered before she went into nursing.
The men and women in the fire service put their whole hearts into their work and no amount of praise or thanks for their efforts will ever be enough.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
1906, San Francisco
“We can’t ask Michael to do it. What would your father say if he found out?”
Tess Clark squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and smiled at the personal maid who had also become her friend and confidante. “Of course we can, Annie dear. Father would much rather we be escorted to the meeting by a gentleman than venture out unaccompanied, especially after dark. Besides, your mother’s planning to attend, isn’t she?”
“She said she might. But she lives down by the pavilion. She’s used to being out and about in that neighborhood after dark.” The slim young woman shivered. “It’s no place for a society girl like you.”
“Humph.” Tess shook her head, making her dainty pearl earbobs swing. “Just because my family lives on Nob Hill doesn’t mean I’m that different from other people. I want to support the cause of women’s rights as much as you do.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Maybe more so.”
“But…”
Adamant, Tess stood firm. “No arguments. We’re going to the meeting. I intend to hear Maud Younger speak before she goes back to New York, and we may never have a better opportunity.”
“You’re not afraid of what your father will do when he finds out?”
“I didn’t say that,” Tess admitted wryly. “Father can be very forceful at times. He’d certainly be irate if we made the journey alone. That’s why we need a strapping escort like Michael Mahoney.”
Annie covered her mouth with her hand and snickered. “And handsome, too.”
Tess couldn’t argue. She’d have had to be wearing blinders to have missed noticing how the family cook’s son had matured, especially since he’d reached his mid-twenties. Truth to tell, Tess had done more than notice. She had dreamed of what her life might be like if she were a mere domestic like Annie rather than the daughter of wealthy banker Gerald Bell Clark. She might sometimes choose to view herself as a middle-class resident of the City by the Bay but that didn’t mean she would be accepted as such by anyone who knew who she really was.
“I just had a thought,” Tess said, eyeing her boon companion and beginning to smile. “I think it would be wise if we both attend the lecture incognito. I still have a few of my mother’s old hats and wraps. It’ll be like playing dress-up when we were children.”
Annie rolled her blue eyes, eyes that matched Tess’s as if they were trueborn sisters. “To listen to your papa talk, you’d think we were still babes instead of eighteen. Why, we’re nearly old maids.”
That made Tess laugh. “Hardly, dear. But I do see your point. Papa probably sees us as children because he’s so prone to dwell on the past. He never talks about it but I don’t think he’s ever truly recovered from Mama’s passing.”
“I miss her, too,” Annie said. “She was a lovely lady.”
“And one who would want to march right along with us, arm in arm, if she were still alive,” Tess said with conviction.
“March? Oh, dear. We aren’t going to have to do that, are we? I mean, what will people say if we’re seen as part of an unruly mob? Susan B. Anthony was arrested!”
“And she stood up for her rights just the same,” Tess said with a lift of her chin. “According to the literature I’ve read, she never has paid the fines the courts levied.”
“That’s all well and good for a crusader like her. What about me? If your father finds out I went with you, he might fire me. You know my mother can’t do enough sewing and mending to support me and herself. She barely gets by with what I manage to add to her income. If I lost this job…”
“You won’t,” Tess assured her.
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I know that my father is a fair man. And he does love me—in his own way—so he’ll listen if I find it necessary to defend you. I think sometimes that he’s afraid to show much affection, perhaps because of Mama.”
“You do resemble her. Same dark red hair, same sky-blue eyes, fair skin and sweet smile.”
Tess began to blush. “Thank you. I always thought she was beautiful.”
“So are you,” Annie insisted. “The only real difference I can see is that you’re so terribly stubborn and willful.”
“That I get from my father,” Tess said with a quiet chuckle, “and glad of it. Otherwise, how could I possibly hope to stand up to him, express my wishes and actually prevail?”
“When have you done that?”
“Well…” Tess’s cheeks warmed even more. “I shall. Someday. When I have a cause, a reason that I feel warrants such boldness.”
“Like woman suffrage, you mean?”
Tess sobered. “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean. Now, go find Michael and tell him what we need. Look in the kitchen. It’s Friday so he should be visiting his mother.”
“You keep track of his schedule?”
“Of course not. I just happened to remember that he has every other Friday afternoon free, that’s all, and I don’t believe I noticed him being here last week.” She looked away, taking a moment to compose herself and hoping Annie wouldn’t press her for a better explanation.
“Come with me?”
Tess arched a slim eyebrow. “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”
“No, I just get this funny, fluttery feeling in my stomach when I see him and I can hardly speak, let alone be convincing. It’s as if my tongue is tied.”
Unfortunately, Tess knew exactly what Annie meant. Between the mischievous twinkle in the man’s dark eyes and his hint of an Irish brogue, he was truly captivating. “All right. We’ll both go. He might be more likely to agree to accompany us if I asked him.”
“Of course. He won’t want to jeopardize his mother’s job by refusing.”
It bothered Tess to hear that rationale. She had hoped to persuade the attractive, twenty-four-year-old fireman to do her bidding by simply appealing to his gallantry. The suggestion that her family’s importance, both at home on the Clark estate and in the city proper, might be a stronger influence was disheartening.
It was also true.
Michael Mahoney had come straight from work, shedding his brass-buttoned, dark wool uniform jacket and leather-beaked cap as soon as he entered the overly warm kitchen of the Clark estate.
He gave his mother a peck on the cheek, took a deep breath and sighed loudly for her benefit. “Mmm, something smells heavenly.”
Clearly pleased, Mary grinned and chuckled. “Of course it does.”
“Will you be wanting more apples peeled?” he asked, starting to turn back his shirt cuffs while eyeing a sugar-and-cinnamon-topped bowl of already prepared fruit. “I’ll be glad to help, especially if I get to taste one of those pies you’re making.” He pulled a stool up to the table and sat down.
Hands dusted with flour, Mary was rolling circles of crust at the opposite end of the work-worn oak surface. “That’s no job for an important man like you, Michael.” She used the back of her wrist to brush a wispy curl away from her damp forehead. “You have a career now. You don’t need to be helpin’ me.”
“Clark should have hired you a kitchen maid long ago,” Michael said flatly. “With all his money you’d think he’d be glad to lighten your burdens.”
“I’ve had a few girls here. None lasted. They were too lazy. ’Twas easier for me to just jump in and do their chores than to wait.”
“Still, I think I should have a talk with him.”
“Don’t you dare. I’d be mortified.”
“Why?”
“Because Mr. Clark is a good man and a fine boss. I wouldn’t want him thinkin’ I wasn’t grateful. He gave me a raise in salary you know.”
“Over a year ago or longer. If Mrs. Clark was still in the household you’d have gotten more than just the one.”
“I know. She was such a darling girl, poor thing. The mister’s not been the same since she passed.” Mary sighed deeply, noisily. “I know how he feels. Sometimes it seems like your da will walk in the door one day and greet me the way he did for so many wonderful years.”
Michael chose not to respond. His father had been lost at sea while working as a seaman almost ten years ago, and before that had only come home on rare occasions. If they hadn’t had a fading photograph of the man, Michael wondered if he’d have been able to picture him at all.
“It’s been a long time,” he said. “You’re still a comely woman. Why not set your cap for a man who can take care of you?”
“Now, why would I be wantin’ to do that when my lovin’ son is goin’ to look after me in me old age?”
Chuckling, Michael nodded. “All right. You’ve made your point. And I will, you know. I just have to work my way up in the department until I’m making enough money to feed us both and qualify for family housing.” He laughed more. “I don’t suppose you’d be wantin’ to live in the station house with all those rowdy boys and me.”
“Might remind me of my brothers back in Eire, but, no, I have a nice room here. I’ll wait till you’re better set before I make my home with you.”
He reached to steal a slice of cinnamon-flecked apple from the bowl and was rewarded by her “Tsk-tsk” and a playful swat in his direction.
“I always knew you were a wise woman,” he said, popping the tangy bit into his mouth.
“And don’t you be forgettin’ it,” Mary warned.
From the doorway came a softly spoken, “Forget what?”
Michael’s head snapped around and he jumped to his feet. He knew that voice well, yet hearing it never ceased to give him a jolt. Whether it was a sense of joy or of tension, he had not been able to decide.
Licking his lips and dusting sugar granules off his hands, he nodded politely. “Miss Tess. Miss Annie. Good afternoon.”
Annie giggled and followed Tess into the warm kitchen.
“Umm. That bread baking smells wonderful. I can hardly wait to butter a slab,” Tess said.
Mary gave a slight curtsy and wiped her floury hands on her apron as she eyed the imposing gas stove. “Thank you, miss. It should be ready soon.”
“Then perhaps we’ll wait.” Tess looked to Michael and gave him a slight smile. “How have you been?”
“Fine, thank you. I just dropped in to pay a call on my mother.”
“As you should. Your employment is progressing satisfactorily, I presume?”
“Yes. I’m next in line to be promoted to captain of my fire company.”
“How impressive. I wish you well.”
He’d been studying Tess as she spoke and sensed that there was more on her mind than mere polite formalities. She and Annie had both been acting unduly uneasy, paying him close attention and fidgeting more than was normal for either of them.
“Thank you,” Michael said with a lopsided, knowing smile. “Why am I getting the impression that you ladies have something else to say?”
“Perhaps because we do,” Tess said. He saw her tighten the clasp of her hands at her waist and noticed that she was worrying a lace-edged handkerchief in her slim fingers.
“And what would that be?”
“I—we—are in sore need of an escort this evening and we were wondering if you would be so kind.”
“An escort?” Michael’s brow knit. “Don’t you have a beau who can provide that service?”
Tess’s cheeks flamed but she held her ground. “At the moment, sadly, no. However, Annie and I would be honored if you could find the time to accompany us. We can use one of father’s carriages if you like.”
His dark eyebrows arched. “Oh? And where would we be going?”
“Mechanics’ Pavilion. There’s going to be—”
“Whoa. I know what’s going on there tonight. I won’t be a party to your participation in such a folly.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Well, now I’ve ruffled her feathers, Michael concluded, seeing her eyes widen and hearing the rancor in her tone. Nevertheless, he knew he was right. “The pardon you should be beggin’ is your father’s,” he said flatly. “Mr. Clark has a reputation to maintain, for himself and for his bank. You can’t be keepin’ company with the likes of those crazy women.”
“I can and I will,” Tess insisted. “If you won’t escort us, then we’ll go alone.”
His jaw gaped for a moment before he snapped it shut. “I almost believe you.”
“You’d best do so, sir, because I mean every word.”
Looking to his mother, Michael saw her struggling to subdue a smirk. That was a fine kettle of fish. His own ma was evidently siding with the younger women. What was this world coming to? Didn’t they know their place? Hadn’t men been taking good care of women like them for untold generations?
Sure there was the problem of widows and orphans, but there were benevolent societies to provide for those needs. The last thing San Francisco—or the entire nation—needed was to give women a say in politics. No telling where a mistake like that would eventually lead.
“I can’t understand why you feel so strongly about this, Miss Tess. I’ve known you ever since my mother came to work here and I’ve never noticed such unreasonableness.”
“It isn’t unreasonable to want to hear the facts explained by one of the movement’s leaders,” Tess said.
Seeing the jut of her chin and the rigidity of her spine, he was convinced that she was serious so he tried another approach. “It could be dangerous. There have been riots as a result of such rabble-rousing.”
“All the more reason why you should be delighted to look after us,” she countered. “Well?”
Michael felt as stuck as a loaded freight wagon bogged down and sinking in quicksand. Slowly shaking his head, he nevertheless capitulated. “All right. I’m not scheduled to work tonight. If there are no fire alarms between now and then, I’ll take you. What time do you want to leave?”
“The meeting commences at eight,” Tess said. “I assume that’s so wives and mothers will not have to neglect their families in order to attend. You may call for us at half past seven. I’ll have the carriage ready.”
With that she grabbed Annie’s hand and quickly led her out of the room, their long, plaited skirts swishing around their ankles as they went.
Michael sank back onto the stool. When he glanced at his mother he noted that she was grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, well, if I hadn’t seen it with me own eyes I’d not have believed it,” Mary drawled. “My full-grown son was just steamrolled by a slip of a girl. ’Twas quite a sight.”
“That it was,” Michael said. “I can hardly believe it myself. What’s happened to Tess? She used to be so levelheaded and obedient.”
“You think she’s not being sensible? Ha! If you ask me, she and others like her are going to come to the rescue of this wicked world. Imagine how those crooked politicians will squirm when they can’t rely only on the good old boys who’ve been keeping them in office in spite of their evil shenanigans.”
“Ma! Watch yourself. If Mr. Clark was to overhear you, he might think you were responsible for Tess’s crazy notions.”
“More likely that girl’s responsible for waking me up,” his mother replied. “If I didn’t have so many chores tonight, I might just be tempted to go listen to Miss Younger, too.”
Tess had raided the attic with Annie and they had both come away with elaborately decorated dark hats and veils.
Annie’s was silk with the brim rolled to one side and the crown bedecked with silk and muslin cup roses and a taffeta bow.
Tess chose the one she had always loved seeing her mother wear. It had two sweeping ostrich plumes anchored in a rosette of shiny black taffeta centered with a large jet ornament. That pin had been a gift from her father to her mother and Mama had always adored it.
Their shirtwaist blouses and lightweight, plaited skirts were their own but they had covered them with heavy wool coats. Tess’s reached below her ankles. Annie’s brushed the floor.
“I’m too short,” the girl complained, lifting the hem. “I’ll get it all dusty.”
“Better dust than mud,” Tess countered. “Just be thankful it isn’t as wet out there as it usually is in the spring.”
She glanced from the second-floor window of her bedroom where they were finishing their preparations. The garden below was bathed in a light mist, and beyond toward the Pacific, clouds lay low, obscuring the moon and much of the landscape, including the lights of the parts of the city nearest the shore.
“Hopefully it won’t rain later tonight,” Tess said. “Looks like the fog is going to be bad though.”
“I know. Maybe we shouldn’t go out.”
“Nonsense. Did you order my mare harnessed to the buggy and tell them when to bring it around, as we’d planned?”
“Yes. But I don’t know that we’ll have a driver. The last I saw of Michael he was still with Mary. I thought surely he’d want to go home and change if he truly intended to take us.”
“I suspect he was wishing he’d be called back to work so he wouldn’t have to keep that promise,” Tess said. “I sincerely hope he doesn’t spend the entire evening lecturing us on the proper place of women in the home.”
Annie grinned. “He can’t really do that unless he goes inside and listens to Miss Younger.”
“Which is highly unlikely,” Tess added. “Wasn’t he funny when he got so uppity? Imagine thinking he can tell us what to do.”
“He sounded like your father may when he finds out what we’ve been up to tonight.” Annie was shivering in spite of the warmth of her wool coat. “I’m not looking forward to that.”
“Nor am I,” Tess replied with a slight nod, “but I truly feel that this is a cause worth investigating. It’s not as if you and I were planning to officially join the movement or anything like that. We’re just curious. Think of it as a lark.”
“Michael surely doesn’t see it that way.”
“No.” Tess sobered. “But his opinion isn’t our concern. As long as he lives up to his promise we’ll have no trouble.”
“I wish we’d asked someone else to escort us.”
“I don’t,” Tess replied candidly. Truth to tell, she was looking forward to being driven into the heart of the city by the handsome fireman almost as much as she was looking forward to hearing the suffragette lecture.
She began to smile, then grin. There weren’t many socially acceptable ways she could spend time with the cook’s son. Not that she’d ever admit she was looking for any. Perish the thought. But this adventure would be fun. And perhaps in the long run, one more man would begin to understand why so many women were banding together to demand emancipation.
Annie’s squeal startled her from her reverie. “The buggy’s here!” She grabbed her hat to help hold it in place as she added another long pin. “It’s time to go.”
“All right, all right. Keep your voice down or Father will hear.”
“Sorry.” Annie pressed the fingertips of one hand to her lips while continuing to steady the large hat with her other. “Did you leave a note?”
“Yes,” Tess whispered. “And I sincerely hope Father doesn’t find reason to miss us and read it.” She reached for the other young woman’s gloved hand. “Come on. Our carriage awaits.”
Chapter Two
Here they come, Michael thought. Or do they? He shook his head in disbelief. Except for the lightness of their steps, the approaching pair resembled stodgy matrons rather than the lithe, lovely young women he had expected. If this was their idea of a joke he was not amused.
While a groom steadied the horse, Michael circled the cabriolet to assist them. Frowning, he offered his hand.
“Good evening, Mr. Mahoney,” Tess said, placing her small, gloved fingers in his and raising her hem just enough to place her dainty foot on the step leading to the rear seat.
“It’ll be good only if your father doesn’t find out what you’re up to,” Michael countered. “I can’t believe you convinced me to be a party to this.”
Stepping aboard, she laughed softly, her eyes twinkling behind the thin veil that she’d arranged to cover her face. “Neither can I.”
“You two look like you’re going to a funeral,” he said with disdain. “I just hope it isn’t mine.”
Tess merely laughed. Michael was too troubled to comment further. Instead, he helped Annie up the same step, then vaulted easily into the driver’s seat. “Ready?”
“Ready,” they said in unison, sounding like two happy children headed for a romp in Golden Gate Park on a sunny afternoon.
Their carefree attitude irritated Michael. He’d spent enough time in the seamier parts of San Francisco to know that his chore of protecting these foolish young women might prove harder than either of them imagined. Yes, the city was more civilized than it had been right after the gold rush, but there were still plenty of ne’er do-wells, drunks and just plain crooks out and about, especially after dark.
His fondest hope was that the crowd of women at Mechanics’ Pavilion would act as an adequate buffer to help safeguard his charges. He couldn’t hold off a mob single-handed, not even if he were armed, which he was not.
An aroma of salt water and rotting refuse from down by the wharves was borne on the fog, although it didn’t seem quite as offensive as usual, probably because the evening was quite cool and there was no onshore wind to carry as much of the odor inland.
Michael flicked the reins lightly to encourage the horse to trot after he turned onto Powell Street. Driving over the cobblestones with the metal-rimmed carriage wheels gave their passage a rough, staccato cadence, although there was so much other traffic on the wide boulevard the sounds melded into a clatter that made it hard to differentiate one noise from the others.
Teamsters yelled at their teams, whipping the poor beasts to force them to haul overfilled wagons up the steep streets from the wharves. A herd of cattle was evidently being driven up Market Street because their combined bellowing and shouts of the drovers working them could be heard blocks away.
Add to that the occasional echoing pistol shot, probably coming from the seamier areas of the city, and Michael was decidedly uneasy. The sooner they reached the pavilion and he got these two innocents settled inside the hall, the happier he’d be.
A giggle came from behind him, tickling the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. It was Tess. Of course it was. Annie might be accompanying her but this so-called adventure had most certainly originated in Tess’s active mind.
He glanced over his shoulder. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Tess replied, her voice still tinged with humor. “I was just thinking of how much more enjoyable this jaunt would be if we’d taken Papa’s new motorcar.”
“You’d need a different driver if you had,” Michael told her flatly. “I’ve plenty of experience handling the lines but never an automobile.”
“You drive them with a wheel or a steering lever, not reins,” Tess teased. “Everybody knows that. Papa says the time will come when horses are unnecessary.”
“I doubt that. Those machines will never catch on. Too noisy and complicated. Besides, you’d spend all your spare time stopping at pharmacies to buy jugs of fuel. Imagine the inconvenience.”
“No more so than having to feed and water horses,” she countered. “You should know all about that. Those fire horses you care for are beautiful animals. When they race through the streets as a team it’s a thrilling sight.”
“How would you know?”
She tittered behind her gloved hand. “I have seen them in action many times. And you driving them, if you must know.”
“Have you, now? That’s a bit of a surprise.” When he turned slightly farther and smiled at her, he saw her gather herself and raise her chin.
“I can’t understand why it should be. Station #4 is not too far from Father’s bank and it is impossible to ignore that noisy, clanging bell and that steaming engine racing through the streets at such reckless speeds.”
“It’s only reckless if unheeding pedestrians step in front of us. The bell is meant to be enough warning for any sensible person.”
To Michael’s surprise, she agreed with him. “You’re right, of course. I didn’t mean to sound disparaging. I think your profession is most honorable.”
One more quick glance showed him that she was smiling behind the veil and it was all he could do to keep from breaking into a face-splitting grin at her praise. There was something impish yet charming about the banker’s daughter. Always had been, if he were totally honest with himself.
Someday, Michael vowed silently, he would find a suitable woman with a spirit like Tess’s and give her a proper courting. He had no chance with Tess herself, of course. That went without saying. Still, she couldn’t be the only appealing lass in San Francisco. When he was good and ready he’d begin to look around. There was plenty of time. Most men waited to wed until they could properly look after a wife and family.
If he’d been a rich man’s son instead of the offspring of a lowly sailor, however, perhaps he’d have shown a personal interest in Miss Clark or one of her socialite friends already.
Would he really have? he asked himself. He doubted it. There was a part of Michael that was repelled by the affectations of the wealthy, by the way they lorded it over the likes of him and his widowed mother. He knew Tess couldn’t help that she’d been born into a life of luxury, yet he still found her background off-putting.
Which is just as well, he reminded himself. It was bad enough that they were likely to be seen out and about on this particular evening. If the maid Annie Dugan hadn’t been along for the ride, he knew he’d have had a lot more questions to answer; answers that could, if misinterpreted, lead to his ruination. His career with the fire department depended upon a sterling reputation as well as a Spartan lifestyle and strong work ethic.
Michael had labored too long and hard to let anything spoil his pending promotion to captain. He set his jaw and grasped the reins more tightly. Not even the prettiest, smartest, most persuasive girl in San Francisco was going to get away with doing that.
He sighed, realizing that Miss Tess Clark fit that flowery description to a T.
Tess settled back on the velvet tufted upholstery in the rear seat of the cabriolet and watched as they finally turned south on Van Ness and approached the center of the city. The streets in this district were well lit and broad enough to accommodate plenty of traffic, yet still seemed terribly crowded.
Parallel sets of trolley tracks with a power line buried between them ran down the center of the thoroughfare. These lines sliced their way through the cobblestones in much the same way the cable for the cable cars did, except for the fact that the trolleys were driven by electric power. Traffic increased rapidly and included quite a few of the infernal motorcars that Michael had spoken so strongly against.
Tess leaned forward and placed one gloved hand on the low back of the seat near his elbow while pointing with her other. “There’s an automobile. And two more. See? They seem to be much easier to maneuver, particularly over the ruts of the streetcar tracks, no matter how the driver approaches them.”
“That’s only because most buggy wheels are narrower,” he argued, carefully maneuvering the cabriolet between a parked dray and one of the modern streetcars as it passed. “I can’t believe how some people drive with no concern for anyone else. It’s little wonder there are so many accidents these days.”
“Father says the motorcars will put an end to that because there won’t be any horses to get frightened and bolt.” She noted how hard Michael was working to control her spirited mare in the presence of the unusual, sputtering vehicles. Some of the other teamsters were having similar difficulties. “See what I mean?”
“All I see is that there’s probably not going to be a good place to leave this rig near the pavilion,” he replied. “Would it be all right if I let you ladies off near the door and then looked for a spot around the corner? There should be more room on Market Street, as long as the drovers have their cattle rounded up and moved on by now.”
“Of course,” Tess said, hoping her inflection wouldn’t inadvertently reveal a desire to remain near the handsome fireman. “You can stop anywhere. I see the banner. This is where we belong.”
“In your opinion.” Michael huffed. “I don’t believe I have ever seen so many women gathered in one place before. There must be thousands.”
Tess tensed. “Wait. How will you find us again if we go inside without you?”
“I don’t know. If you weren’t wearing that enormous hat I could probably spot you in the crowd by your pr— By your hair.”
“You were going to say pretty, weren’t you?” She smiled, amused by the way his cheeks grew more ruddy in the light from the streetlamps surrounding the enormous meeting hall.
“It would be wrong of me to mention such things, Miss Clark.”
That made her laugh softly. “But I would find it delightful if you did. Does that embarrass you, Michael?”
“Of course not.”
He brought the buggy to a halt as close to the curb as possible, then quickly helped both young women alight and saw them to the curb before once again climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Take off your hat after you get inside,” he called over the din of the crowd. “I’ll find you.”
She knew that her eyes must be twinkling because she was keenly amused when she shouted back, “And how will you do that, sir?”
Michael paused just long enough to lean down from his perch and say more privately, “By your beautiful, dark red hair.” Then he flicked the reins and the horse took off.
Beside her, Tess heard Annie sigh. “Oh, my. That man’s smile could melt butter in the middle of winter.” The shorter girl had clasped her hands over her heart and was clearly mooning.
For some reason Annie’s overt interest in Michael needled Tess. She knew it was foolish to allow herself to be bothered, since the maid was a far more likely social choice for him to make than she was.
Nevertheless, Tess was surprised and a little saddened by a twinge of jealousy. What was wrong with her? Was she daft? Just because a man was stalwart and handsome and so glib-tongued that his very words sent shivers up her spine, it didn’t mean that she should take his supposed interest seriously. After all, she was a Clark, a member of the San Francisco upper crust. And as such she did have a family reputation to uphold whether she thought it a silly pretense or not.
Standing tall and leading the way, Tess gathered a handful of skirt for ease of walking and crossed the lawn to the wide entry doors of the meeting hall. There were ladies from all walks of life proceeding with her in a flowing tide of gracious yet clearly animated womanhood, she noted, pleased and energized by the atmosphere.
Perhaps this suffragette movement would remove some of the social stigmas that had always set her apart from many of her good sister Christians like Annie, she mused. If it did nothing else, she would be forever grateful.
Michael worked his way slowly south on Van Ness Avenue and turned onto Market Street. As he had hoped, there was plenty of room there for the Clark buggy. He tipped a small boy in tattered knee britches and a slouchy cap to watch the rig for him while he was gone, then headed back for Mechanics’ Pavilion at a trot.
He hadn’t gone a hundred yards when a man grabbed his arm and stopped him. It was one of his fellow firemen.
“Hey, Michael, me boy. Where’re you bound in such a hurry?”
Before thinking, he answered, “The pavilion.”
That young man, and those with him, guffawed. “No wonder you’re wearin’ your uniform. If you’re lookin’ to use that badge to impress a good woman, you surely won’t find one there. Where are you really goin’?”
“None of your business, O’Neill.”
“Now, now, don’t be trying to get above yourself, boyo.” He laughed again, spewing the odor of strong drink on a cloud of his breath.
“Don’t worry about me,” Michael replied with disdain. “Just take care of yourself and don’t end up in a bar fight again.”
O’Neill’s only reply was a hearty laugh and a slap on the back as he shared his amusement with most of the others gathered nearby.
Michael hurried away from the group of obviously inebriated men, hoping none of them decided to trail after him on a lark. It wasn’t that he felt he couldn’t handle himself well in any situation. He just didn’t want his cronies to follow him all the way to Tess and continue their taunts, straining the difficult circumstances even further.
He needn’t have worried. Getting past the crowd milling around in the street and on the sidewalks and lawn bordering the enormous Mechanics’ Pavilion was so difficult, Michael doubted he’d be followed by anyone.
It was all he could do to work his way through to the meeting hall entrance. First he had to run the gauntlet of shouting, chanting, angry men carrying placards denouncing the women’s movement, then convince the uniformed police officers posted at the doors that his intentions were peaceful and honorable.
“I escorted several young ladies,” Michael shouted to the guards. “They’re waiting for me inside. I promised to join them.” He held up his right hand, palm out. “On my honor.”
The burly doormen looked at each other and then back at him, clearly cognizant of his official fireman’s attire. “All right,” one of them said. “But any trouble from you and you’re headed for the paddy wagon just like anybody else. We’ve got more’n one waitin’ right out back.”
“I promise I’m not going to be a problem,” Michael vowed, still holding up his hand and doffing his hat as he sidled through the narrow space between the two broad-shouldered officers.
The door most of the women were using stood wide-open. That feminine multitude was sweeping through without being questioned, although many were casting sidelong glances at each other as if they were either worried or wary. Or both. He supposed, given that this kind of gathering was such an unusual occurrence, it was natural for some of them to be uneasy particularly if their husbands didn’t know where they had gone.
On the other hand there were the stalwarts like Tess, who were obviously not intimidated by a crowd, especially not by one composed mainly of members of the fairer persuasion. How on earth could he hope to locate her among this mass of velvet and feathers, furs and veils? Surely she’d realize his dilemma and at least wave her hand in the air from time to time.
Straining with cap in hand, he stretched to his full six-foot height to peer at the seething mass of well-dressed women. Those who did not have fancy hats covered with flowers and feathers were in the minority, although there did seem to be a fair number of plainer bonnets or uncovered heads as well. That was where he’d made his mistake. By assuming that only Tess would be bareheaded, he’d become overconfident.
The press of the crowd was stifling. Various aromas of perfume assaulted him as they mixed and permeated the already overly warm inside air.
He raised his eyes to the vaulted ceiling and was in the midst of a short, silent prayer for guidance when he noticed a gallery.
As he headed for the stairway leading to the upper tier he continued to pray. “Father, I know there’s no way I’ll ever find Tess in this mess unless You help me.” His heart skipped and hammered. “Please?”
Gaining the landing, he gripped the rail and gazed down at the rows and rows of benches facing a stage where several well-dressed but otherwise unremarkable ladies sat. If not for their position at the podium, he would have assumed they were merely a part of the audience.
Would Tess press closer to the stage so she could observe the speaker’s expressions? He assumed so, given her earlier conversation and the determined way she had been behaving.
Starting at the center near the front, Michael began to systematically scan the crowd row by row. He had to force himself to take his time and study the back of each person’s head carefully in spite of his burgeoning anxiety.
His “Where are you?” was spoken barely above a whisper. There? No, that wasn’t her. How about…? No.
Jostled and pushed, he stubbornly clung to his place at the railing and prayed he wouldn’t have to actually return to the ground floor and make a spectacle of himself in order to locate and be reunited with the two young women. Bringing them there in the first place was bad enough. Calling attention to such a folly would be a hundred times worse.
Michael took a sudden gulp of air. There! Was that her?
Maybe. Maybe not. His breathing was already ragged and his heart was pounding exactly the way it did every time he answered a fire alarm. His hands fisted on the rail. He wanted to shout out, to call to Tess. To see if it truly was her he was staring at.
Fear for her safety and well-being stopped him. There might be few folks in this particular crowd who would recognize wealthy Gerald Bell Clark’s daughter on sight, but many knew her name only from the society pages of the Chronicle. It would be unwise to call attention to her in this unusual situation, especially since he was currently too far away to protect her if need be.
Watching and continuing to hold perfectly still, he willed the reddish-haired woman to turn her head just the slightest so he could be certain.
In moments she did better than that. Standing and swiveling while she removed her coat, she looked over the crowd behind her, eventually letting her gaze rise and come to rest on the balcony.
Michael tensed. His breath whooshed out with relief. There was no doubt. It was Tess.
He was about to leave his place to join her when he saw her raise her arm, grin broadly and wave to him as if she had just spotted the most important person present.
To his delight and equally strong sense of self-disgust, he was so thrilled by her candid reaction that he temporarily froze.
In all the time they had been acquainted, Tess had never looked at him that way before. Or had she? He blinked to clear his head and sort out his racing thoughts. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, he kept imagining that perhaps she had done so and he had been too blind, too dunderheaded to have noticed. Until tonight.
As he started back down the stairs to join her he corrected that supposition. It wasn’t foolish to ignore Tess’s apparent personal interest. In his case it was the only intelligent thing to do. Even considering her to be a mere friend could prove detrimental.
The idea that she might actually covet a deeper relationship with him was unthinkable. Ridiculous. Nothing good—for either of them—could ever come from entertaining such an outrageous folly. Not even in his dreams.
Chapter Three
The sight of Michael gazing down upon her sent a tingle of awareness singing up Tess’s spine. There was no question that it was she whom he sought. The way his countenance lit up when he spotted her removed any possible doubt. And to her chagrin, she was just as thrilled to see him.
At her elbow, Annie gave a little shriek, “Up there! Is that Michael?”
Tess cast her a stern look. “Hush. You’ll embarrass him. He sees us. He’s coming.”
“I know.” Once again the maid’s hands were clasped in front of her as if preparing to pray. “My knees are knocking something awful.”
“Then sit down and get control of yourself,” Tess told her. “We don’t want to create a scene.”
Tess, too, seated herself after managing to tear her gaze from the sight of Michael Mahoney zigzagging his way through the throng to join them. It wasn’t easy to keep from peering over her shoulder in anticipation of his arrival. She kept herself busy by repositioning her hat and moving the pins that had held it firmly to her upswept hairdo.
Seconds ticked by. Tess was just about to stand and look for him anew when she sensed his presence.
“Is there room for me or shall I stand at the back of the room and wait?” he asked, bending to speak quietly into her ear.
Tess failed to suppress a shiver as his breath tickled her cheek and ruffled a tiny wisp of hair. She attempted to mask her reaction by gathering her skirts and scooting closer to Annie on her right.
“We’ll make room,” Tess said. “Please, join us.” She had expected him to immediately comply. When he hesitated, she glanced up and noticed that he seemed uneasy. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I just got a funny feeling.”
“Probably another little earthquake,” Tess said with a sigh. “I’ve felt several since we arrived. At first I thought it was just the press of the crowd and all the perfumery making me a bit dizzy, but once I sat down, I decided it couldn’t be that.”
She folded her coat on her lap and patted the small section of bench that she had just cleared. “Come. Sit down. I think they’re about to start the meeting.”
As Michael eased himself into the narrow space and his shoulder pressed against hers, Tess was once again light-headed. She blinked and tried to concentrate, to gauge whether or not they were experiencing more earth tremors at that very moment.
It was impossible to tell. San Francisco was so prone to such things that few citizens paid them any heed. Unless the shaking was strong enough to cause actual damage, which was rare, the local newspapers gave the quakes short shrift as well. Feeling the earth move was no more unusual than the fog off the bay or the wind that preceded a storm.
Tess would have scooted closer to Annie if there had been a smidgen of room left. Unfortunately all the benches were packed, including theirs. That was a good omen for the suffragette movement but it certainly worsened her predicament.
If only she had had the presence of mind to keep her coat on as a buffer, she mused. Not only was she starting to sense an aura of warmth emanating from Michael, she was beginning to imagine that she could actually feel the man’s muscles through the gathered sleeve of her blouse. That was impossible of course, yet she could not shake the unsettling sensation.
Leaning away a fraction of an inch, she noted that he shifted his position ever so slightly, too. Although he had obviously twisted to make more room for her, he had also placed himself so he could effortlessly slip his arm around her shoulders if he so desired!
That notion stole Tess’s remaining breath. In her heart of hearts she wanted him to do exactly that. In the logical part of her brain, however, she knew he would never be so bold. Getting him to escort them to the lecture was already more than she had expected. Making this into a shared, pleasurable excursion was out of the question. The only reason Michael was even sitting with them was because he was trying to be gallant.
“You don’t have to stay right here if you don’t want to,” Tess offered, hoping to gain a respite for her over-taxed senses and imagination without revealing her reasons for needing one. “We can meet you outside after the speaking is over.”
Michael shook his head and cupped a hand around his mouth to speak as privately as possible. “I’d rather not. You are too vulnerable, Miss Clark. If anyone saw through your disguise it could pose a problem.”
“I don’t see how.”
She noted his frown and the hoarseness of his voice as he replied, “You would be a valuable prize for anyone wanting to get back at your father or perhaps seeking a ransom.”
“Me? That’s preposterous.”
“All the same, I’m not about to leave you. Either of you,” he added, leaning farther forward to include Annie.
Just then, a portly matron in a copious cape and broad-brimmed hat paused in the aisle next to him and cleared her throat noisily.
When Michael didn’t rise, she said, “I fear you have not noticed a lady in need of a seat, young man. I would think a member of a fire brigade, like yourself, would have better manners.”
Although he set his jaw, he did stand, bow and reluctantly relinquish his place to the demanding woman.
If Tess had not been so relieved that he had been forced to give her some breathing space, she might have felt sorry for him.
“I’ll be waiting for you right outside the south door, the one we came in,” Michael had said in parting. “Keep an eye out for me.”
It had eased his mind some when Tess had nodded but he was still nervous about leaving her. After all, she was naïve about the inherent dangers of gatherings such as this. At least he assumed she was.
He had occasionally seen her in the Clark family pew in church and was certain she had also attended fashionable soirees, but this kind of open meeting was totally different. Here, she might come across anyone from any walk of life. How she would handle such encounters was his main concern. If she exhibited the same high and mighty attitude he’d observed so far, she could wind up in serious trouble.
To Michael’s chagrin, some of the same firemen he’d encountered earlier were gathered just outside the very door he had instructed Tess to use. That left him no option but to face them.
James O’Neill was puffing on a cigar. He began to grin wryly as soon as he spotted Michael. “Well, well. I see you were tellin’ the truth. Have ye gone over to the ladies’ side now?”
“Of course not. I’m just doing a favor for my mother’s employer, that’s all.”
“Oh, and what would that be?”
Keeping his voice light and a smile in place so the other men wouldn’t take offense, Michael changed the subject rather than answer directly. “Never mind that. What’re all of you doing here? Did you follow me?”
“Naw. We’re slumming,” O’Neill replied, laughing raucously. “We decided to take a gander at the lovely girls.” He roared with glee at his supposedly clever remark. “Have ye seen ’em? I’d sooner kiss me own sister.”
“I wouldn’t want to kiss your sister either—if you had one,” Michael countered, joining in the laughter. “She’d look too much like you—and you are one ugly fellow.”
“Well said,” O’Neill shot back, clapping Michael on the back and blowing smoke rings. “C’mon. Let’s go find us a good pub and get some beer.”
“Can’t,” Michael said. “I told you. I’m working.”
“Moonlighting, eh? All right. Have it your way.” He motioned to his cronies with a broad wave of his arm and a slight unsteadiness in his gait. “Let’s go, boys.”
Michael was relieved to see them walk away without further probing into his evening’s plans. He wasn’t ashamed of Tess—or of Annie. He just didn’t want to take the chance of having his name linked by gossip with that of the young, beautiful socialite. It not only wasn’t accurate, it wasn’t seemly.
Although he was successfully climbing the promotion ladder within his chosen field, that didn’t mean he considered himself worthy to court a highborn woman like Tess Clark. No matter how well he rose in the fire department ranks, some facts would never change. He was who he was. That he had accomplished as much as he already had was a testimony to his zeal for the job and honest hard work.
For that Michael was thankful, because it meant he’d had no unearned favors handed to him nor had he sought any. His rank and anticipated promotion were his responsibility and his reward.
“With the help of the good Lord,” he added, casting a brief glance at the cloudy night sky beyond the streetlamps and remembering his spiritual roots. His father had not imparted any belief system but his mother had made up for it with a strong faith that never seemed to waver. As far as Michael was concerned, if he could become half the Christian his mother was, he’d be in good shape.
When the elderly, spry, white-haired president of the local society for the advancement of women stood, the crowd hushed. In a clear but reedy voice she introduced Maud Younger to a roar of applause and cheering.
Tess was surprised to note that Miss Younger didn’t look nearly as old as she had imagined she’d be. Her clothing was a simple but fashionable white lawn waist with vertical tucks and a dark skirt, fitted by plaiting from waist to hip that accentuated her spare figure. Her grace and regal bearing reminded Tess a bit of her own mother, although this woman was barely old enough to have belonged to the same generation.
“Good evening,” Miss Younger said, her voice carrying strongly. “As many of you know, I was born and raised right here in your fair city, and although I have been traveling the globe, I feel as though I’ve come home when I gaze upon the bay and wharves once again.” She smiled. “They smell the same, too.”
That brought a wave of laughter. She waited for it to subside before continuing. “Many of you come from a background of wealth. Others don’t. That makes no difference in our movement. Here, we are all sisters, all equal in the eyes of God. Our goal is to make ourselves just as equal in the eyes of our fellow men, which brings me to the point. We have been treated as second-class citizens for countless generations. It is time for that unfair servitude to end.”
As the cheers of the crowd rose and the entire audience stood to applaud, Tess felt a surge of pride for those present. Miss Younger was right. They were all equal. She had felt for a long time that she and Annie certainly were. Why, they had often shared the notion that they might as well be family. This movement was the affirmation of that idea, the answer to Tess’s fervent prayers for understanding and equality.
Beside her, on the aisle, she heard a muttered yet clearly derogatory comment. Wide-eyed, she turned to the portly woman who had usurped Michael’s place, studying her features closely for the first time. “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s that evil harridan up there who should beg all our pardons,” the matron said, frowning and pointing to the stage. “Does your father know you’re here?”
“What?” Tess squinted at the round, jowly face. “Do I know you?”
“You certainly should. My husband and I see you every Sunday in church.”
Recognition buzzed at the fringes of Tess’s mind the way flies worried a horse’s flanks in the summer. There was a fair chance that she had encountered this particular person in the past but she couldn’t attach a name to that memory. “I’m so sorry, Mrs.…”
“Blassingame. Mrs. Henry Blassingame. But never you mind,” the woman said, gathering herself as if she were a mother hen with ruffled feathers. “You just watch your p’s and q’s, young lady. Mark my words, this whole movement will do nothing but cause trouble.”
Tess faced her nemesis as the applause died down, determined to give as good as she got. “You don’t see yourself as equal to me, Mrs. Blassingame? That’s a pity.”
“Well, I never…” The woman spun and shuffled up the aisle, her skirts swinging from side to side like a huge, clanging bell.
Tess felt a tug on her skirt from Annie and resumed her place on the bench.
“We should go before she tells your father,” the maid said with unshed tears glistening. “The Blassingames are rich enough to have a telephone. If she rings him, he’ll discover we’re gone.”
“I’m not afraid of Papa,” Tess said, although she did feel an undeniable twinge of nervousness. She smiled for Annie’s benefit. “If you’re worried, then we’ll go home now. I’m sure that will please Michael, too.”
“There’s another meeting tomorrow night and the night after,” Annie offered. “Maybe you can get someone else to take you.”
Starting down the aisle, Tess lightly grasped her friend’s arm with one hand and carried her heavy coat draped over the other. “Don’t you want to come with me, too?”
“Mercy, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because it seems so wrong,” Annie said, speaking quietly aside. “Look at all these women. They should be at home with their families. I know some must have husbands or children. That’s where their duty lies.”
“Can’t they be individuals as well?” Tess asked. “I believe I am.”
“Of course you are. You have all the money you’ll ever need. But I don’t. I never will. Neither will my poor mother, and if folks get all riled up about this suffragette movement, there’s no telling how it will affect the likes of us.”
“You’re really afraid?”
Annie nodded vigorously. “Terrified is more like it.”
“Then I apologize,” Tess said tenderly. “I should never have insisted we come. I’m just so used to the two of us doing things together, I never thought about how being here might feel to you. I certainly didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. How can I make it up to you?”
“Pray. Hard,” Annie said. “That’s what I’ve been doing ever since we left your estate.”
“Good idea. Oh, dear. Look.”
Pausing at the archway of the exit door, Tess peered out at the milling crowd that awaited them. She and Annie were the only ones leaving early and without the buffering presence of the other women inside the hall, they were going to have to run a gauntlet of angry husbands, fathers and brothers. Even those men who were merely standing there smoking and chatting with their cronies had begun staring as if she and her frightened maid were escaping criminals.
Tess had Annie help her don her bulky black coat before she turned and squared her shoulders. Facing such a show of strength and greater size, she felt minuscule but she was not about to let any shred of apprehension show.
Head high, she walked directly into the fray as if she expected the group to part the way the Red Sea had for Moses and grant her unhindered passage. To her surprise and delight, the closest men did just that.
Chapter Four
Michael saw Tess coming. Before he could reach her and Annie, however, they had been accosted by several of the angry men who’d been lurking amidst the crowd.
He had to push his way through to get to the women. Tess was standing her ground but poor Annie was cowering and weeping into her hands.
“Shame on you,” Tess shouted at their nearest adversaries as she pulled the crying girl closer. “See what you’ve done? You’re nothing but a bunch of nasty bullies.”
Hearing that kind of talk made Michael cringe. He clenched his fists as he joined the young women and quickly placed himself between them and their antagonists. Surprise was on his side. Numbers were not. He was only one man and there were at least five of the others, two of whom looked able to defend themselves most adequately.
He slipped his arm around Tess’s shoulders, including Annie in the embrace as best he could and said, “Sorry boys. My sisters need to be getting home. C’mon, girls. Papa’s waiting.”
It didn’t surprise him one bit when Tess tried to twist out of his grip as he began to shepherd them away.
“Let go of us,” she grumbled, loud enough to be heard by almost anyone within twenty or thirty feet.
Michael grinned over his shoulder at the other men and shrugged as if silently appealing for sympathy. The ruse worked. They started to chuckle and one of them gave him a thumbs-up.
Beside him Tess continued to make loud, intemperate statements as he hustled her along the sidewalk. “Stop this. I demand you release me, Michael Mahoney. Do you hear me? There is no need for strong-arm tactics. I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, yeah?” He lowered his voice. “And how were you going to get away from that confrontation back there? Talk them out of it?”
“I was handling the situation quite adequately.”
“That wasn’t how it looked to me,” he argued.
Deciding that they were out of danger, at least for the moment, he slackened his hold and Tess immediately shook him off.
She paused long enough to straighten her hat, withdraw one of the long pins that had held it in place and brandish the thin shaft like a sword. “See? I could have defended myself.”
“For about two seconds, until one of those fellows disarmed you.” He eyed the flimsy weapon. “Put that away before you hurt somebody.”
“You mean like you?”
“Yeah, like me,” Michael answered. “You seem to be having trouble telling your friends from your enemies these days and I’d just as soon be out of reach if you suddenly decide I’m one of the villains.”
“According to Mrs. Blassingame, that woman who took your seat, it’s Maud Younger who’s evil. Imagine that.”
“I can. Easily,” he countered. “Almost any man out here would agree.” He knew he’d spoken too candidly when he saw Tess’s eyes narrow. Although she did stick the hat pin back where it belonged, her motions were abrupt and jerky, indicating that her temper was far from soothed.
She grabbed Annie’s hand and forged ahead with the girl in tow. Rather than object, Michael fell into step in their wake. Their party was now far enough from the pavilion that they wouldn’t automatically be connected with the ongoing suffrage lecture if they happened to be observed. That was a huge relief.
“Turn right at the corner of Market,” he called. “The buggy is down about half a block. You can’t miss it.”
Although Tess didn’t answer, he noted that she was heeding his instructions. Fine. Let her brood or fuss and fume or whatever else she wanted to do. As long as she went straight to the cabriolet without getting into any more trouble on the way, he’d be satisfied. It had been sheer folly to let himself be talked into making this trip in the first place. The sooner it was over, the happier he’d be.
Tess would have given a month’s allowance to have had another handy mode of transportation. Oh, she knew she could hire a hack to deliver her and Annie to the top of Nob Hill or even take a streetcar part of the way. It wasn’t that. The problem was, she had to see to it that her father’s rig was returned promptly and in apple-pie order. He was rightly proud of the sleek black, covered buggy with its deep green trim and bloodred upholstery, as well as his fine stable.
The bay mare that they were driving tonight, however, was technically Tess’s. It had been a birthday gift, although her father still acted as if he were lord and master over his entire domain, including all the horses, even hers.
Without waiting for assistance she approached the side of the cabriolet, hiked her skirts, placed a booted foot on the small step and reached for a handhold with which to pull herself aboard.
The oversize coat was a bother because it hampered her freedom of movement. Nevertheless, she did not intend to stand there and wait for a bossy man who obviously didn’t think she could take care of herself.
She grasped the slim metal roof supports with gloved hands and pulled herself up. Or tried to. She did lift partway off the ground but that was as far as she got. Not only was she stopped abruptly when a portion of the hem of her coat was caught beneath her boot, that yanking action caused her to lose her grip.
Tess was badly off balance before she even realized she’d made an error. Arms cartwheeling like the blades of a misaligned windmill, her body stretched and began a slow motion, backward arc.
Annie screeched. “Look out!”
Tess gritted her teeth. In the split second it took her to realize what was happening, she barely had time to hope her fall wasn’t going to harm her best friend.
Gasping once, Tess stifled a scream. She threw her arms back to try to catch herself, fully expecting to feel the impact of the cobblestones through her skirt and petticoats as she landed.
Then, suddenly, she was caught up in strong arms that swung her away from Annie and safeguarded them both.
“I’ve gotcha. You’re okay,” Michael said, sounding breathless.
Tess’s instincts for self-preservation kicked in and she sensibly looped one arm around his neck to stabilize herself. That brought their faces closer together than they had ever been before.
Her eyes widened. The brim of her elaborately decorated hat was the only thing keeping them apart and she could feel his warm breath through the veil.
She wanted to speak in her own defense, perhaps even to chastise him for taking such liberties. But no suitable words came to her, nor could she seem to find enough fresh air to satisfy her needs.
Michael stared into her eyes. He was not smiling. “Are you all right, Miss Clark?”
Tess tried to take another usable breath, this time succeeding. “Yes.” It was hardly more than a hoarse whisper.
She found it impossible to look away, to tear her gaze from Michael’s. Eyes that she had always known were a rich brown had become bottomless pools of indescribable emotion. Their eddies whirled, drawing her further and further in until she was as lost in their depths as a hapless mariner abroad in a hurricane.
Still, Michael held her close. Neither of them moved. Neither spoke. Tess noticed for the first time that she was actually embracing him and she knew it was wrong to continue to do so. She was also unwilling to relax her hold even a smidgen.
It was Annie whose words finally brought Tess to her senses. The girl grasped her sleeve. “Miss Tess! Are you all right? Are you faint?”
“No.” The denial didn’t sound nearly as firm as she’d intended. She began lean sideways and to push her rescuer away. “I’ll thank you to put me down.”
“Gladly.” Michael set her on her feet so abruptly that Tess swayed for a moment. Although she knew instinctively that he was close enough to catch her again if she faltered, she was determined to thwart any such efforts.
Instead, she reached for Annie’s hand to steady herself. “My coat was caught. I think I may have stepped on the hem. I’m fine, now.”
“I know. I saw,” Annie said. “I’m so sorry. If I’d realized sooner I’d have helped…”
Behind them Michael cleared his throat. “If you ladies are through making apologies, I suggest we be on our way. Once that lecture is over and the crowd disperses, we could be delayed a long time by traffic.”
“I agree,” Tess said.
She took the hand he offered, careful to keep from looking directly at him as she gracefully gained her seat and scooted over to make room for Annie.
What on earth had just happened between her and Michael? She could barely think, let alone recall every thing that had transpired. He had caught her and kept her from falling, of that she was certain, but in the ensuing seconds something extraordinary had passed between them. Something she had never before felt with anyone, let alone an appealing man like him.
There had been a depth to their poignant bond that was inexpressible. And he had felt it, too. She knew he had. Chances were good that he’d be able to continue to mask his emotional involvement but she wasn’t fooled. She’d seen it in his eyes, had felt it in the way he’d held her close. Michael Mahoney had been every bit as touched as she had and no amount of rational thought was ever going to convince her otherwise.
Rational thought? Tess had to smile. There was nothing rational about the way she was beginning to feel about Michael. On the contrary, if she had been anyone but who she was, she might have been foolish enough to imagine she was falling in love with the handsome fireman.
That was impossible, of course. Tess’s smile waned. She sighed. Some things might be changing in the way women perceived themselves but certain constraints of society could never be breached. One of them was the proper choice of a mate. She had standards to uphold. Duties to fulfill. She had already taken on some of the tasks inherent in running her father’s home, such as acting as hostess when he entertained the hoi polloi of San Francisco. There was no way to continue to do that if she turned her back on her place in the normal scheme of things.
A sadness settled over Tess the way the fog often shrouded the bay. Why was it so easy for her to accept Annie and others like her, yet fail to fully accept the person she herself really was?
Michael didn’t speak to his passengers again until he brought the buggy to a halt in front of the Clark estate. The way he viewed the situation, the less he tried to explain, the better. Besides, he hadn’t had time to sort out his thoughts regarding the astounding way Tess had reacted when he’d raced to the rescue and caught her.
I couldn’t stand back and let her fall, he insisted, wondering if perhaps he should have done just that. He was beginning to see that his strong sense of chivalry might prove to be his undoing—unless he was very, very careful in the future.
It was going to be at least another year, maybe longer, before he’d be financially able to support his mother. If she lost her job at the Clarks’ before that time, it would be a serious hardship. And if Gerald Clark had the slightest notion that his only daughter was being squired all over San Francisco by his cook’s son, that was exactly what would happen.
Michael steeled himself for the berating he was certain Tess would deliver in parting. As long as he remained duly deferential, no matter how much it hurt his pride to do so, he figured the evening would end fairly well, considering.
As he prepared to help the ladies disembark, a young groom joined him and took hold of the mare’s bridle.
Michael first helped Annie down, then offered his hand to Tess. So far, so good, he thought. Then he made the mistake of looking into those lovely eyes once again. They glistened like fresh drops of rain on a rose. And her cheeks reminded him of the velvety pink petals.
He blinked to clear his thoughts, to refocus on the task at hand without making a worse fool of himself than he already had. Unfortunately for him, Tess smiled and his heart sped as a direct result.
“Thank you,” she said pleasantly as she stepped down. “It was good of you to agree to accompany us this evening.”
Michael bowed slightly and released her hand, backing away as he did so. “My pleasure, ladies.”
He heard Annie make a sound that reminded him of wind whistling through a nearly closed window sash. Tess, on the other hand, laughed demurely.
He arched a brow. “Did I say something humorous?”
“Yes. But you did it in a very gentlemanly manner.” She giggled behind her hand. “I’m sorry. It was just so plain that you didn’t want to go, it tickled me to hear you claim it was your pleasure.”
“Perhaps it was the good company I enjoyed rather than your destination.” The instant Michael heard his words he rued them.
“Perhaps.”
“Or perhaps I simply like driving a nice rig.” He gestured at the mare. “That’s a fine animal.”
“Yes. She’s mine.”
“Really? If you chose her, you did well.”
“Thank you.” Instead of leaving him and going inside, she walked to the horse and began stroking its sleek neck with her gloved hand. “Actually, she was one of my father’s but I asked for her for myself. He finally gave her to me on my sixteenth birthday.”
“Nice gift,” Michael said, thinking about how little he was able to afford to give his mother no matter how much he wanted to please and honor her. In contrast, the gift of such a magnificent horse only served to point up the difference between his and Tess’s lives.
“I can have one of the stable boys drive you home, if you’d like,” Tess offered.
Michael shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m used to walking.”
“And it’s almost all downhill from here.”
Boy, is that the truth, he thought, biting his tongue to keep from speaking his mind. It would be downhill for him for sure if he did what his heart and mind kept suggesting. The mere idea of pulling Tess Clark into his arms and kissing her rosy cheek the way he wanted to was enough to make him blush as well as tie his gut in a knot.
It was also a clear warning. There were few things he could do that would be worse than acting the swain. As a matter of fact, right then he couldn’t think of anything that would be more foolish. Or more appealing.
He touched the brim of his cap politely and backed farther away. “I’ll be saying good night, then.”
“Good night,” Tess replied.
Michael knew he had to be imagining the tenderness in her tone and the personal interest in her charming gaze. If there was something unusual there it had to be that she was toying with him, pretending to care to lead him on so she could have a good laugh at his expense.
Well, that was never going to happen. He might be a tad smitten if he were totally honest with himself, but that feeling would pass. Tess would never know her flirting had affected him at all, let alone given him thoughts of courting. He was too smart to yield to such impossible yearnings. Too smart and too determined to triumph on his own. He didn’t need anyone’s influence or money to succeed. He was well on his way to becoming a captain. Nothing else was as important as that.
Not even love?
His jaw clenched. The clomp of his boots echoed hollowly on the sidewalk as he began to trot down the hill toward home, back to the reality that was his daily life. There was no way that he might care that much for Tess, nor she for him. Love was an overrated emotion, anyway. His mother had always insisted that his father had loved her, yet Michael had never seen him demonstrate anything but disrespect—when he was sober. When he was drunk, which was most of the time, he was just plain cruel.
That was another reason why Michael wanted to succeed. It was his fondest wish to provide well for his mother in her old age. She had worked tirelessly to raise him, practically alone, and she had earned a rest. Soon he’d be able to give it to her. Soon he’d get the promotion he’d been working so hard for.
He slowed his pace and began to whistle a tune. His life hadn’t been easy but he’d come a long way since his upbringing as one of the immigrant children who were disparagingly called wharf rats. Someday, Lord willing, he’d be able to put that all behind him and never look back.
Chapter Five
Tess was barely inside the cavernous foyer of the family mansion and was standing in front of the mirrored hall tree removing her hat when she heard a familiar, attention-getting cough.
Annie immediately hiked her skirts and fled up the side stairs toward her own quarters.
Tess whirled to face the source of the cough. “Good evening, Father. How are you?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” Gerald Clark said. He hooked one thumb in his vest pocket, took a puff of the fat cigar in his other hand and blew out a smoke ring as he eyed his daughter from head to toe.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Tess replied. She would gladly have retreated to her room if her father had not placed himself directly in her path. To her chagrin, he was taking note of her meager disguise.
“Have you no decent wrap? I thought you had a much more suitable coat than that old one.”
“It was mother’s,” Tess said.
“I’m well aware of that.” His eyes narrowed in a scowl while he took in the familiar hat with its special, jet pin as part of the decoration. “Are you mocking me?”
Tess’s heart melted and she put aside her personal concerns in order to comfort him. “Oh, Father, it’s nothing like that. Honestly.” She stepped close enough to briefly pat his free hand. “We—Annie and I—just wanted something dark and unremarkable to wear into the city. I never intended for you to see us dressed like this. I would never do anything to hurt you. Surely, you know that.”
“I had thought so, until now,” Gerald answered. “Would you care to tell me why you chose to go out so late in the evening?”
There was nothing Tess could honorably do but answer truthfully. She busied herself removing her gloves so she wouldn’t have to keep staring into his face, wouldn’t see his disappointment when she confessed.
“It was all my idea. I wanted to hear Maud Younger speak at Mechanics’ Pavilion and Annie was good enough to accompany me.” She looked up in time to see a flush of color start rising in the older man’s face.
“So I have been given to understand.”
“Then you know I’m telling you the truth.”
“Yes. I find your actions quite disappointing. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything wrong or unseemly. The crowd was very large and I’m sure my presence went unnoticed, at least for the most part.”
“You will not go again,” her father said flatly.
That was his normal manner of making his wishes known, yet this time it rankled Tess more than usual. “I cannot promise that,” she replied, feeling a surge of power accompanied by an equal amount of foreboding.
“What?”
If Tess had thought his face flushed before, it was pale compared to the way it looked now. She could almost imagine jets of steam escaping from his ears. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Father, but there is nothing bad about my attending meetings composed of genteel women, and I shall do so again if I choose.”
“Bah.” He bit down on the end of the cigar and kept it clamped between his teeth as he glared at her.
There had been many instances in the past when Tess had cowered under her father’s powerfully intent stare. Not this time. Although she hadn’t stayed for Miss Younger’s entire lecture she had been impressed by the atmosphere of freedom within the hall. That and the suffragette pamphlets she had read and reread so many times that they were almost falling apart had given her inner strength.
Tess straightened her spine, nodded and took a few steps, sidling past her father to start up the spiral staircase. “I respect and admire you, Papa,” she paused to say. “Please try to afford me the same.”
She didn’t look back and heard no comment in her wake. By the time she reached the sanctuary of her private suite and closed the outer door behind her, she was trembling at the thought of what she had just said and done. Still, she had succeeded. She had politely stood up to her father and he had not screamed or cursed at her the way he sometimes did the servants. As far as she was concerned, that had been a big, big step toward her eventual emancipation.
Sighing, Tess leaned her back against the door. Praise God. Not only had she managed to temper her father’s expected wrath, she had done so without having to mention Michael Mahoney’s participation in the evening’s escapade. For that, she was most thankful of all.
Given the way her heart leaped at the mere thought of that attractive man, she was afraid her father—and anyone else who saw her—might discern that she was enamored with Michael to the point of idiocy. She could still imagine the sensation of being held in his strong arms, of feeling his breath on her cheek, of yearning to be near him every moment.
Heart pounding, breathing shallow and ragged, Tess fought to subdue her roiling emotions. What was wrong with her? Was she becoming unhinged? Scripture plainly warned against coveting and that was exactly what she was doing.
Is it wrong to merely daydream? she asked herself. Surely not. After all, if people had no lofty dreams and aspirations they would never accomplish anything of value.
“Yes, except this is an impossible dream,” she whispered into her otherwise unoccupied boudoir.
She knew her conclusion was right. She also knew that she dared not confess her foolish imaginings to anyone. There were some things, some very personal things, that must remain private. Tess had shared many secrets with Annie Dugan, especially during the recent years after Mama’s passing, but this ridiculous infatuation would not be one of them.
It occurred to Tess to wish that Michael would take serious notice of Annie instead, but she found she couldn’t carry through with an actual prayer for such a thing. Seeing him courting the maid—or anyone else for that matter—would be like the thrust of a dagger through Tess’s tender heart.
Breathless, she stood quietly and tried to understand why she was so overcome with unfathomable emotion. She had been acquainted with Michael for at least six years, ever since her father had hired Mary as their cook, yet she had never viewed him this way before.
She and Michael had talked and joked and had even engaged in innocent child’s play as youngsters, such as the time they had been verbally sparring in the kitchen and she had blown a handful of flour onto his dark, wavy hair, then had laughed and run away.
Michael had chased and caught her in the rose garden, holding tight to her wrist so she couldn’t have escaped no matter how hard she’d struggled.
“Let me go!” Tess had screeched, trying her best to twist free.
“Not on your life.” He had been laughing, too, as he had shaken his hair and spread a dusting of the flour onto her blue frock. They had laughed, chased, played. Had a perfectly wonderful time until Mary had called out to them, stopped the tussle and scolded her fun-loving son.
Now, however, even the memory of those sweet, innocent times was enough to make Tess tremble anew and yearn to see him again even if he paid her no attention whatsoever. Truth to tell, she mused, the less special attention he paid to her, the better for all involved.
That was an unarguable fact. So why was she having such a hard time convincing herself to accept it as the most sensible choice?
When Tess awoke the following morning she was still reliving every wonderful event from the previous evening, especially the trip to and from the pavilion.
Pulling back the heavy drapes at her window, she stood for a moment to bask in the welcome rays of sun that had finally burned through the dreary fog. It was easy to compare that kind of contrast to the way she’d felt before and after she’d nearly taken a tumble and had spent those blissful few moments resting in Michael’s arms. It was as if her whole life had been suddenly filled with a brightness so intense it was almost painful.
Dressing alone because she’d sent Annie back down the hill to visit her widowed mother, Tess descended the wide, sweeping staircase. First she’d breakfast with Father in the formal dining room the way she normally did. It might be trying to carry on a pleasant conversation after his negative reaction to her actions last night, but facing him this morning would help her discern whether or not he was still upset.
Entering the large, formal dining room she paused, puzzled. There was a floral centerpiece with unlit tapers standing tall and stately at each end of it. The handmade damask and lace cloth beneath was pristine, as always. However, the room was not occupied. Papa was not seated at the head of the table. Nor was there the usual silver coffee service waiting for him on the buffet.
Her breath whooshed out all at once when she realized what that meant. Papa had eaten early and left!
Immensely relieved to postpone facing the one person she never seemed able to fully please, Tess swept past the table with a lighter heart and lithe step and pushed the swinging door to enter the kitchen.
The cook looked up with a smile.
“Good morning, Mary.”
“Morning, miss. You heard that Mister Gerald has already had his breakfast?”
“I saw he was gone, yes.” Tess knew she was grinning foolishly but she couldn’t help herself. She’d fretted for hours the night before, anticipating a confrontation with her banker father, and it looked as if he’d put aside his displeasure—at least enough to go about his normal business rather than dally to chastise her. Annie would be very glad to hear that, too.
“I believe I’ll take my breakfast right here with you,” Tess told the cook.
The woman’s astonished expression made Tess giggle and ask, “What’s wrong? Does it bother you?”
“No, miss. I’m just surprised, is all. You haven’t been visiting me much since you got too big to beg sweets.”
“I’ll never be too old for that.” Tess pulled up the same stool Michael had used the day before, sat down and leaned her elbows on the table in spite of knowing it was poor etiquette to do so. “I like it here. I can relax and not worry about how I sit or how I eat or anything else. Can you understand that?”
Mary smiled and her apple cheeks brought happy crinkles to the corners of her brown eyes. “Aye. I’ve often wondered how ladies like you can stand to be laced up so tight and sit so proper all the time. I’d think it would be a terrible trial.”
“It is.” Tess accepted the cup of hot coffee Mary placed before her with a pleasant “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, miss.”
Although Tess had always felt at ease in the kitchen, whether she was grabbing a cookie or maybe sampling the upcoming meals, she could tell she had just taken another step forward in her relationship with Mary Mahoney, especially judging by how the older woman was smiling down on her.
“Your dear departed mother used to visit me this way,” Mary said. “Especially when…”
“When she knew she was about to pass?” Tess asked, her smile growing wistful.
“Aye. Mister Gerald didn’t want to listen to how she really felt so she’d come out here sometimes and talk to me. She was a lovely person.” The cook blinked back unshed tears. “And now that you’re grown, you’re the spitting image of her.”
“That’s what everyone says.” Moved, Tess paused to sip her coffee and used the time to compose herself. “I do miss her. It’s only been a little over four years, but there are times when I try to picture her face or recall the sound of her voice and I can’t quite do it.”
“That’s all right,” Mary said. “Remembering the love is all that counts. She loved you dearly.”
“I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t had my Annie to listen to me back then. It’s no wonder we’ve grown so close.”
“Where is Annie?” Mary looked past Tess toward the main part of the mansion. “Isn’t she hungry, too?”
“If she is, her own mother will be fixing her something,” Tess said. “She got so homesick after we’d been into the city last night, I sent her off to Mrs. Dugan’s early this morning. We had hoped to see her mother at the lecture but the crowd was so huge there was little chance of finding anyone in that mass of humanity.”
“Scrambled eggs all right?” Mary asked with her back to Tess.
“Yes, thank you. And in case you were wondering, Michael did a fine job as our chaperone.”
“I didn’t want to ask.”
Tess chuckled. “I could tell. Actually, he ended up scolding me worse than Papa did when I got home.”
“Oh, dear.”
The cook’s concern made Tess laugh more. “Don’t worry. I didn’t take offense.” And he also caught me when I almost fell. It was wonderful, Tess added to herself, lowering her lashes to stare into her coffee cup rather than let her gaze meet Mary’s and perhaps reveal too much.
“Good. I’m sure my son was only thinking of what was best for you.”
“So he said.” Tess felt her cheeks warming so much that she was certain it showed.
“Are you going back again tonight?” Mary asked.
That notion had already occurred to Tess. Her problem was not being able to count on Annie as a companion and proper chaperone. “I don’t think so.”
“’Tis a pity.”
“Why?” Surely, Michael had not expressed any desire to repeat the previous evening, so Tess was at a loss to understand the underlying reason for Mary’s question.
“Because I’d like to see what all the fuss is about,” the cook said with a slight smile. “I wouldn’t want to go alone, of course, but I thought…”
“I’d love to go with you,” Tess said, beaming. “What a wonderful idea.”
“Mister Gerald wouldn’t mind?”
“I’ve already warned him that I might attend again. I know he’ll approve of my choosing a sensible, mature woman like you for a companion.”
“Then it’s settled.” The cook slid Tess’s eggs onto a plate, added a warm biscuit and delivered the meal to the table.
When she paused there, Tess looked up at her with a smile. “Is there a problem?”
“Only with me old coat and hat,” Mary said. “’Tis good enough for church but I don’t want to embarrass you.”
“Anything that’s good enough for the Lord is certainly good enough for me,” Tess said. “If it really bothers you, though, I do have another coat and hat you may wear and then keep, if you like. They belonged to my mother.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“Nonsense. Annie wore them last night and they were too big for her so they should fit you perfectly. They’re still up in my room. I know Mother would want you to have them in any case.”
“It’s a darlin’ girl you are,” Mary said. “Your mama would be very proud.”
“I truly hope so,” she answered wistfully. “I wish she were still here so I could ask for her advice.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/valerie-hansen/rescuing-the-heiress-39928722/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
Valerie Hansen
Indulge your fantasies of delicious Regency Rakes, fierce Viking warriors and rugged Highlanders. Be swept away into a world of intense passion, lavish settings and romance that burns brightly through the centuriesValerie Hansen's basic nature is to see the humorous side of life and enjoy every day to the fullest.She's always loved stories about people who have successfully met life's challenges and gone on to find happiness, so writing joyful love stories is a perfect outlet for her. Her personal life sounds a lot like a romance novel. She married her high school sweetheart and they raised two great kids before leaving California to pursue their dreams of a rural lifestyle in the Arkansas Ozarks.That relocation has also given her work a new, more spiritual focus than ever before. Valerie had gone to Sunday school as a child and attended church off and on as an adult, but didn't really understand what was missing in her spiritual life until daily problems drove her to seek answers from a closer relationship with Jesus Christ. What a surprise! And what a difference in outlook. In the years that followed, she was continually amazed at the extraordinary opportunities that came her way. She still is.Valerie has always loved to write. That, and the strong conviction that this is what she was meant to do, led her to Steeple Hill and the Love Inspired series. Besides extensive research, she has plenty of interesting experiences to draw upon when creating stories: She's been a veterinary assistant, teacher's aide, volunteer fire department dispatcher, Emergency Medical Technician, bank worker, professional artist, store clerk, bookkeeper, 4-H leader, Sunday school teacher, gospel singer/songwriter, winning quiz show contestant, dog trainer, college extension-class instructor, and antique restorer. She's built dulcimers and a psaltery, laid bricks and tile, designed stained-glass windows, roofed a house, decorated store windows for the holidays, helped pour cement, raised fancy guinea pigs and finches, driven a long-haul moving van, and was once the proud owner of 23 Newfoundland dogs at one time. Her advice? Don't try that at home!Valerie and her husband now live on an 80-acre farm in northern Arkansas. She loves to hike the rocky, wooded hills behind the picturesque old house they renovated, watch for the wildlife so abundant in the area and think up new ideas for her books. She's always been a dreamer, a romantic who invented happier endings for books and movies that didn't already end on a lighthearted note. She was an adult before she realized that everybody didn't automatically do the same thing!Valerie Hansen can be reached at: P. O. Box 13, Glencoe, AR 72539-0013. Or via e-mail at: val@valeriehansen. com.
“I don’t believe I have ever seen so many women gathered in one place before. There must be thousands.”
Tess tensed. “Wait. How will you find us again if we go inside without you?”
“I could probably spot you in the crowd by your pr… By your hair,” Michael said.
“You were going to say pretty, weren’t you?” She smiled, amused by the way his cheeks grew more ruddy.
“It would be wrong of me to mention such things, Miss Clark.”
That made her laugh softly. “But I would find it delightful if you did. Does that embarrass you, Michael?”
“Of course not.”
He brought the buggy to a halt, then quickly helped her alight. “I’ll find you.”
She knew that her eyes must be twinkling, because she was keenly amused when she shouted back, “And how will you do that, sir?”
Michael paused just long enough to lean down from his perch. “By your beautiful, dark red hair.” Then he flicked the reins and the horse took off.
VALERIE HANSEN
was thirty when she awoke to the presence of the Lord in her life and turned to Jesus. In the years that followed she worked with young children, both in church and secular environments. She also raised a family of her own and played foster mother to a wide assortment of furred and feathered critters.
Married to her high school sweetheart since age seventeen, she now lives in an old farmhouse she and her husband renovated with their own hands. She loves to hike the wooded hills behind the house and reflect on the marvelous turn her life has taken. Not only is she privileged to reside among the loving, accepting folks in the breathtakingly beautiful Ozark mountains of Arkansas, she also gets to share her personal faith by telling the stories of her heart for all of Steeple Hill’s Love Inspired lines.
Life doesn’t get much better than that!
Rescuing the Heiress
Valerie Hansen
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life…with your right hand you save me, Lord.
—Psalms 138:7
My husband was a firefighter, my son still is and my daughter also volunteered before she went into nursing.
The men and women in the fire service put their whole hearts into their work and no amount of praise or thanks for their efforts will ever be enough.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
1906, San Francisco
“We can’t ask Michael to do it. What would your father say if he found out?”
Tess Clark squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and smiled at the personal maid who had also become her friend and confidante. “Of course we can, Annie dear. Father would much rather we be escorted to the meeting by a gentleman than venture out unaccompanied, especially after dark. Besides, your mother’s planning to attend, isn’t she?”
“She said she might. But she lives down by the pavilion. She’s used to being out and about in that neighborhood after dark.” The slim young woman shivered. “It’s no place for a society girl like you.”
“Humph.” Tess shook her head, making her dainty pearl earbobs swing. “Just because my family lives on Nob Hill doesn’t mean I’m that different from other people. I want to support the cause of women’s rights as much as you do.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Maybe more so.”
“But…”
Adamant, Tess stood firm. “No arguments. We’re going to the meeting. I intend to hear Maud Younger speak before she goes back to New York, and we may never have a better opportunity.”
“You’re not afraid of what your father will do when he finds out?”
“I didn’t say that,” Tess admitted wryly. “Father can be very forceful at times. He’d certainly be irate if we made the journey alone. That’s why we need a strapping escort like Michael Mahoney.”
Annie covered her mouth with her hand and snickered. “And handsome, too.”
Tess couldn’t argue. She’d have had to be wearing blinders to have missed noticing how the family cook’s son had matured, especially since he’d reached his mid-twenties. Truth to tell, Tess had done more than notice. She had dreamed of what her life might be like if she were a mere domestic like Annie rather than the daughter of wealthy banker Gerald Bell Clark. She might sometimes choose to view herself as a middle-class resident of the City by the Bay but that didn’t mean she would be accepted as such by anyone who knew who she really was.
“I just had a thought,” Tess said, eyeing her boon companion and beginning to smile. “I think it would be wise if we both attend the lecture incognito. I still have a few of my mother’s old hats and wraps. It’ll be like playing dress-up when we were children.”
Annie rolled her blue eyes, eyes that matched Tess’s as if they were trueborn sisters. “To listen to your papa talk, you’d think we were still babes instead of eighteen. Why, we’re nearly old maids.”
That made Tess laugh. “Hardly, dear. But I do see your point. Papa probably sees us as children because he’s so prone to dwell on the past. He never talks about it but I don’t think he’s ever truly recovered from Mama’s passing.”
“I miss her, too,” Annie said. “She was a lovely lady.”
“And one who would want to march right along with us, arm in arm, if she were still alive,” Tess said with conviction.
“March? Oh, dear. We aren’t going to have to do that, are we? I mean, what will people say if we’re seen as part of an unruly mob? Susan B. Anthony was arrested!”
“And she stood up for her rights just the same,” Tess said with a lift of her chin. “According to the literature I’ve read, she never has paid the fines the courts levied.”
“That’s all well and good for a crusader like her. What about me? If your father finds out I went with you, he might fire me. You know my mother can’t do enough sewing and mending to support me and herself. She barely gets by with what I manage to add to her income. If I lost this job…”
“You won’t,” Tess assured her.
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I know that my father is a fair man. And he does love me—in his own way—so he’ll listen if I find it necessary to defend you. I think sometimes that he’s afraid to show much affection, perhaps because of Mama.”
“You do resemble her. Same dark red hair, same sky-blue eyes, fair skin and sweet smile.”
Tess began to blush. “Thank you. I always thought she was beautiful.”
“So are you,” Annie insisted. “The only real difference I can see is that you’re so terribly stubborn and willful.”
“That I get from my father,” Tess said with a quiet chuckle, “and glad of it. Otherwise, how could I possibly hope to stand up to him, express my wishes and actually prevail?”
“When have you done that?”
“Well…” Tess’s cheeks warmed even more. “I shall. Someday. When I have a cause, a reason that I feel warrants such boldness.”
“Like woman suffrage, you mean?”
Tess sobered. “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean. Now, go find Michael and tell him what we need. Look in the kitchen. It’s Friday so he should be visiting his mother.”
“You keep track of his schedule?”
“Of course not. I just happened to remember that he has every other Friday afternoon free, that’s all, and I don’t believe I noticed him being here last week.” She looked away, taking a moment to compose herself and hoping Annie wouldn’t press her for a better explanation.
“Come with me?”
Tess arched a slim eyebrow. “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”
“No, I just get this funny, fluttery feeling in my stomach when I see him and I can hardly speak, let alone be convincing. It’s as if my tongue is tied.”
Unfortunately, Tess knew exactly what Annie meant. Between the mischievous twinkle in the man’s dark eyes and his hint of an Irish brogue, he was truly captivating. “All right. We’ll both go. He might be more likely to agree to accompany us if I asked him.”
“Of course. He won’t want to jeopardize his mother’s job by refusing.”
It bothered Tess to hear that rationale. She had hoped to persuade the attractive, twenty-four-year-old fireman to do her bidding by simply appealing to his gallantry. The suggestion that her family’s importance, both at home on the Clark estate and in the city proper, might be a stronger influence was disheartening.
It was also true.
Michael Mahoney had come straight from work, shedding his brass-buttoned, dark wool uniform jacket and leather-beaked cap as soon as he entered the overly warm kitchen of the Clark estate.
He gave his mother a peck on the cheek, took a deep breath and sighed loudly for her benefit. “Mmm, something smells heavenly.”
Clearly pleased, Mary grinned and chuckled. “Of course it does.”
“Will you be wanting more apples peeled?” he asked, starting to turn back his shirt cuffs while eyeing a sugar-and-cinnamon-topped bowl of already prepared fruit. “I’ll be glad to help, especially if I get to taste one of those pies you’re making.” He pulled a stool up to the table and sat down.
Hands dusted with flour, Mary was rolling circles of crust at the opposite end of the work-worn oak surface. “That’s no job for an important man like you, Michael.” She used the back of her wrist to brush a wispy curl away from her damp forehead. “You have a career now. You don’t need to be helpin’ me.”
“Clark should have hired you a kitchen maid long ago,” Michael said flatly. “With all his money you’d think he’d be glad to lighten your burdens.”
“I’ve had a few girls here. None lasted. They were too lazy. ’Twas easier for me to just jump in and do their chores than to wait.”
“Still, I think I should have a talk with him.”
“Don’t you dare. I’d be mortified.”
“Why?”
“Because Mr. Clark is a good man and a fine boss. I wouldn’t want him thinkin’ I wasn’t grateful. He gave me a raise in salary you know.”
“Over a year ago or longer. If Mrs. Clark was still in the household you’d have gotten more than just the one.”
“I know. She was such a darling girl, poor thing. The mister’s not been the same since she passed.” Mary sighed deeply, noisily. “I know how he feels. Sometimes it seems like your da will walk in the door one day and greet me the way he did for so many wonderful years.”
Michael chose not to respond. His father had been lost at sea while working as a seaman almost ten years ago, and before that had only come home on rare occasions. If they hadn’t had a fading photograph of the man, Michael wondered if he’d have been able to picture him at all.
“It’s been a long time,” he said. “You’re still a comely woman. Why not set your cap for a man who can take care of you?”
“Now, why would I be wantin’ to do that when my lovin’ son is goin’ to look after me in me old age?”
Chuckling, Michael nodded. “All right. You’ve made your point. And I will, you know. I just have to work my way up in the department until I’m making enough money to feed us both and qualify for family housing.” He laughed more. “I don’t suppose you’d be wantin’ to live in the station house with all those rowdy boys and me.”
“Might remind me of my brothers back in Eire, but, no, I have a nice room here. I’ll wait till you’re better set before I make my home with you.”
He reached to steal a slice of cinnamon-flecked apple from the bowl and was rewarded by her “Tsk-tsk” and a playful swat in his direction.
“I always knew you were a wise woman,” he said, popping the tangy bit into his mouth.
“And don’t you be forgettin’ it,” Mary warned.
From the doorway came a softly spoken, “Forget what?”
Michael’s head snapped around and he jumped to his feet. He knew that voice well, yet hearing it never ceased to give him a jolt. Whether it was a sense of joy or of tension, he had not been able to decide.
Licking his lips and dusting sugar granules off his hands, he nodded politely. “Miss Tess. Miss Annie. Good afternoon.”
Annie giggled and followed Tess into the warm kitchen.
“Umm. That bread baking smells wonderful. I can hardly wait to butter a slab,” Tess said.
Mary gave a slight curtsy and wiped her floury hands on her apron as she eyed the imposing gas stove. “Thank you, miss. It should be ready soon.”
“Then perhaps we’ll wait.” Tess looked to Michael and gave him a slight smile. “How have you been?”
“Fine, thank you. I just dropped in to pay a call on my mother.”
“As you should. Your employment is progressing satisfactorily, I presume?”
“Yes. I’m next in line to be promoted to captain of my fire company.”
“How impressive. I wish you well.”
He’d been studying Tess as she spoke and sensed that there was more on her mind than mere polite formalities. She and Annie had both been acting unduly uneasy, paying him close attention and fidgeting more than was normal for either of them.
“Thank you,” Michael said with a lopsided, knowing smile. “Why am I getting the impression that you ladies have something else to say?”
“Perhaps because we do,” Tess said. He saw her tighten the clasp of her hands at her waist and noticed that she was worrying a lace-edged handkerchief in her slim fingers.
“And what would that be?”
“I—we—are in sore need of an escort this evening and we were wondering if you would be so kind.”
“An escort?” Michael’s brow knit. “Don’t you have a beau who can provide that service?”
Tess’s cheeks flamed but she held her ground. “At the moment, sadly, no. However, Annie and I would be honored if you could find the time to accompany us. We can use one of father’s carriages if you like.”
His dark eyebrows arched. “Oh? And where would we be going?”
“Mechanics’ Pavilion. There’s going to be—”
“Whoa. I know what’s going on there tonight. I won’t be a party to your participation in such a folly.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Well, now I’ve ruffled her feathers, Michael concluded, seeing her eyes widen and hearing the rancor in her tone. Nevertheless, he knew he was right. “The pardon you should be beggin’ is your father’s,” he said flatly. “Mr. Clark has a reputation to maintain, for himself and for his bank. You can’t be keepin’ company with the likes of those crazy women.”
“I can and I will,” Tess insisted. “If you won’t escort us, then we’ll go alone.”
His jaw gaped for a moment before he snapped it shut. “I almost believe you.”
“You’d best do so, sir, because I mean every word.”
Looking to his mother, Michael saw her struggling to subdue a smirk. That was a fine kettle of fish. His own ma was evidently siding with the younger women. What was this world coming to? Didn’t they know their place? Hadn’t men been taking good care of women like them for untold generations?
Sure there was the problem of widows and orphans, but there were benevolent societies to provide for those needs. The last thing San Francisco—or the entire nation—needed was to give women a say in politics. No telling where a mistake like that would eventually lead.
“I can’t understand why you feel so strongly about this, Miss Tess. I’ve known you ever since my mother came to work here and I’ve never noticed such unreasonableness.”
“It isn’t unreasonable to want to hear the facts explained by one of the movement’s leaders,” Tess said.
Seeing the jut of her chin and the rigidity of her spine, he was convinced that she was serious so he tried another approach. “It could be dangerous. There have been riots as a result of such rabble-rousing.”
“All the more reason why you should be delighted to look after us,” she countered. “Well?”
Michael felt as stuck as a loaded freight wagon bogged down and sinking in quicksand. Slowly shaking his head, he nevertheless capitulated. “All right. I’m not scheduled to work tonight. If there are no fire alarms between now and then, I’ll take you. What time do you want to leave?”
“The meeting commences at eight,” Tess said. “I assume that’s so wives and mothers will not have to neglect their families in order to attend. You may call for us at half past seven. I’ll have the carriage ready.”
With that she grabbed Annie’s hand and quickly led her out of the room, their long, plaited skirts swishing around their ankles as they went.
Michael sank back onto the stool. When he glanced at his mother he noted that she was grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, well, if I hadn’t seen it with me own eyes I’d not have believed it,” Mary drawled. “My full-grown son was just steamrolled by a slip of a girl. ’Twas quite a sight.”
“That it was,” Michael said. “I can hardly believe it myself. What’s happened to Tess? She used to be so levelheaded and obedient.”
“You think she’s not being sensible? Ha! If you ask me, she and others like her are going to come to the rescue of this wicked world. Imagine how those crooked politicians will squirm when they can’t rely only on the good old boys who’ve been keeping them in office in spite of their evil shenanigans.”
“Ma! Watch yourself. If Mr. Clark was to overhear you, he might think you were responsible for Tess’s crazy notions.”
“More likely that girl’s responsible for waking me up,” his mother replied. “If I didn’t have so many chores tonight, I might just be tempted to go listen to Miss Younger, too.”
Tess had raided the attic with Annie and they had both come away with elaborately decorated dark hats and veils.
Annie’s was silk with the brim rolled to one side and the crown bedecked with silk and muslin cup roses and a taffeta bow.
Tess chose the one she had always loved seeing her mother wear. It had two sweeping ostrich plumes anchored in a rosette of shiny black taffeta centered with a large jet ornament. That pin had been a gift from her father to her mother and Mama had always adored it.
Their shirtwaist blouses and lightweight, plaited skirts were their own but they had covered them with heavy wool coats. Tess’s reached below her ankles. Annie’s brushed the floor.
“I’m too short,” the girl complained, lifting the hem. “I’ll get it all dusty.”
“Better dust than mud,” Tess countered. “Just be thankful it isn’t as wet out there as it usually is in the spring.”
She glanced from the second-floor window of her bedroom where they were finishing their preparations. The garden below was bathed in a light mist, and beyond toward the Pacific, clouds lay low, obscuring the moon and much of the landscape, including the lights of the parts of the city nearest the shore.
“Hopefully it won’t rain later tonight,” Tess said. “Looks like the fog is going to be bad though.”
“I know. Maybe we shouldn’t go out.”
“Nonsense. Did you order my mare harnessed to the buggy and tell them when to bring it around, as we’d planned?”
“Yes. But I don’t know that we’ll have a driver. The last I saw of Michael he was still with Mary. I thought surely he’d want to go home and change if he truly intended to take us.”
“I suspect he was wishing he’d be called back to work so he wouldn’t have to keep that promise,” Tess said. “I sincerely hope he doesn’t spend the entire evening lecturing us on the proper place of women in the home.”
Annie grinned. “He can’t really do that unless he goes inside and listens to Miss Younger.”
“Which is highly unlikely,” Tess added. “Wasn’t he funny when he got so uppity? Imagine thinking he can tell us what to do.”
“He sounded like your father may when he finds out what we’ve been up to tonight.” Annie was shivering in spite of the warmth of her wool coat. “I’m not looking forward to that.”
“Nor am I,” Tess replied with a slight nod, “but I truly feel that this is a cause worth investigating. It’s not as if you and I were planning to officially join the movement or anything like that. We’re just curious. Think of it as a lark.”
“Michael surely doesn’t see it that way.”
“No.” Tess sobered. “But his opinion isn’t our concern. As long as he lives up to his promise we’ll have no trouble.”
“I wish we’d asked someone else to escort us.”
“I don’t,” Tess replied candidly. Truth to tell, she was looking forward to being driven into the heart of the city by the handsome fireman almost as much as she was looking forward to hearing the suffragette lecture.
She began to smile, then grin. There weren’t many socially acceptable ways she could spend time with the cook’s son. Not that she’d ever admit she was looking for any. Perish the thought. But this adventure would be fun. And perhaps in the long run, one more man would begin to understand why so many women were banding together to demand emancipation.
Annie’s squeal startled her from her reverie. “The buggy’s here!” She grabbed her hat to help hold it in place as she added another long pin. “It’s time to go.”
“All right, all right. Keep your voice down or Father will hear.”
“Sorry.” Annie pressed the fingertips of one hand to her lips while continuing to steady the large hat with her other. “Did you leave a note?”
“Yes,” Tess whispered. “And I sincerely hope Father doesn’t find reason to miss us and read it.” She reached for the other young woman’s gloved hand. “Come on. Our carriage awaits.”
Chapter Two
Here they come, Michael thought. Or do they? He shook his head in disbelief. Except for the lightness of their steps, the approaching pair resembled stodgy matrons rather than the lithe, lovely young women he had expected. If this was their idea of a joke he was not amused.
While a groom steadied the horse, Michael circled the cabriolet to assist them. Frowning, he offered his hand.
“Good evening, Mr. Mahoney,” Tess said, placing her small, gloved fingers in his and raising her hem just enough to place her dainty foot on the step leading to the rear seat.
“It’ll be good only if your father doesn’t find out what you’re up to,” Michael countered. “I can’t believe you convinced me to be a party to this.”
Stepping aboard, she laughed softly, her eyes twinkling behind the thin veil that she’d arranged to cover her face. “Neither can I.”
“You two look like you’re going to a funeral,” he said with disdain. “I just hope it isn’t mine.”
Tess merely laughed. Michael was too troubled to comment further. Instead, he helped Annie up the same step, then vaulted easily into the driver’s seat. “Ready?”
“Ready,” they said in unison, sounding like two happy children headed for a romp in Golden Gate Park on a sunny afternoon.
Their carefree attitude irritated Michael. He’d spent enough time in the seamier parts of San Francisco to know that his chore of protecting these foolish young women might prove harder than either of them imagined. Yes, the city was more civilized than it had been right after the gold rush, but there were still plenty of ne’er do-wells, drunks and just plain crooks out and about, especially after dark.
His fondest hope was that the crowd of women at Mechanics’ Pavilion would act as an adequate buffer to help safeguard his charges. He couldn’t hold off a mob single-handed, not even if he were armed, which he was not.
An aroma of salt water and rotting refuse from down by the wharves was borne on the fog, although it didn’t seem quite as offensive as usual, probably because the evening was quite cool and there was no onshore wind to carry as much of the odor inland.
Michael flicked the reins lightly to encourage the horse to trot after he turned onto Powell Street. Driving over the cobblestones with the metal-rimmed carriage wheels gave their passage a rough, staccato cadence, although there was so much other traffic on the wide boulevard the sounds melded into a clatter that made it hard to differentiate one noise from the others.
Teamsters yelled at their teams, whipping the poor beasts to force them to haul overfilled wagons up the steep streets from the wharves. A herd of cattle was evidently being driven up Market Street because their combined bellowing and shouts of the drovers working them could be heard blocks away.
Add to that the occasional echoing pistol shot, probably coming from the seamier areas of the city, and Michael was decidedly uneasy. The sooner they reached the pavilion and he got these two innocents settled inside the hall, the happier he’d be.
A giggle came from behind him, tickling the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. It was Tess. Of course it was. Annie might be accompanying her but this so-called adventure had most certainly originated in Tess’s active mind.
He glanced over his shoulder. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Tess replied, her voice still tinged with humor. “I was just thinking of how much more enjoyable this jaunt would be if we’d taken Papa’s new motorcar.”
“You’d need a different driver if you had,” Michael told her flatly. “I’ve plenty of experience handling the lines but never an automobile.”
“You drive them with a wheel or a steering lever, not reins,” Tess teased. “Everybody knows that. Papa says the time will come when horses are unnecessary.”
“I doubt that. Those machines will never catch on. Too noisy and complicated. Besides, you’d spend all your spare time stopping at pharmacies to buy jugs of fuel. Imagine the inconvenience.”
“No more so than having to feed and water horses,” she countered. “You should know all about that. Those fire horses you care for are beautiful animals. When they race through the streets as a team it’s a thrilling sight.”
“How would you know?”
She tittered behind her gloved hand. “I have seen them in action many times. And you driving them, if you must know.”
“Have you, now? That’s a bit of a surprise.” When he turned slightly farther and smiled at her, he saw her gather herself and raise her chin.
“I can’t understand why it should be. Station #4 is not too far from Father’s bank and it is impossible to ignore that noisy, clanging bell and that steaming engine racing through the streets at such reckless speeds.”
“It’s only reckless if unheeding pedestrians step in front of us. The bell is meant to be enough warning for any sensible person.”
To Michael’s surprise, she agreed with him. “You’re right, of course. I didn’t mean to sound disparaging. I think your profession is most honorable.”
One more quick glance showed him that she was smiling behind the veil and it was all he could do to keep from breaking into a face-splitting grin at her praise. There was something impish yet charming about the banker’s daughter. Always had been, if he were totally honest with himself.
Someday, Michael vowed silently, he would find a suitable woman with a spirit like Tess’s and give her a proper courting. He had no chance with Tess herself, of course. That went without saying. Still, she couldn’t be the only appealing lass in San Francisco. When he was good and ready he’d begin to look around. There was plenty of time. Most men waited to wed until they could properly look after a wife and family.
If he’d been a rich man’s son instead of the offspring of a lowly sailor, however, perhaps he’d have shown a personal interest in Miss Clark or one of her socialite friends already.
Would he really have? he asked himself. He doubted it. There was a part of Michael that was repelled by the affectations of the wealthy, by the way they lorded it over the likes of him and his widowed mother. He knew Tess couldn’t help that she’d been born into a life of luxury, yet he still found her background off-putting.
Which is just as well, he reminded himself. It was bad enough that they were likely to be seen out and about on this particular evening. If the maid Annie Dugan hadn’t been along for the ride, he knew he’d have had a lot more questions to answer; answers that could, if misinterpreted, lead to his ruination. His career with the fire department depended upon a sterling reputation as well as a Spartan lifestyle and strong work ethic.
Michael had labored too long and hard to let anything spoil his pending promotion to captain. He set his jaw and grasped the reins more tightly. Not even the prettiest, smartest, most persuasive girl in San Francisco was going to get away with doing that.
He sighed, realizing that Miss Tess Clark fit that flowery description to a T.
Tess settled back on the velvet tufted upholstery in the rear seat of the cabriolet and watched as they finally turned south on Van Ness and approached the center of the city. The streets in this district were well lit and broad enough to accommodate plenty of traffic, yet still seemed terribly crowded.
Parallel sets of trolley tracks with a power line buried between them ran down the center of the thoroughfare. These lines sliced their way through the cobblestones in much the same way the cable for the cable cars did, except for the fact that the trolleys were driven by electric power. Traffic increased rapidly and included quite a few of the infernal motorcars that Michael had spoken so strongly against.
Tess leaned forward and placed one gloved hand on the low back of the seat near his elbow while pointing with her other. “There’s an automobile. And two more. See? They seem to be much easier to maneuver, particularly over the ruts of the streetcar tracks, no matter how the driver approaches them.”
“That’s only because most buggy wheels are narrower,” he argued, carefully maneuvering the cabriolet between a parked dray and one of the modern streetcars as it passed. “I can’t believe how some people drive with no concern for anyone else. It’s little wonder there are so many accidents these days.”
“Father says the motorcars will put an end to that because there won’t be any horses to get frightened and bolt.” She noted how hard Michael was working to control her spirited mare in the presence of the unusual, sputtering vehicles. Some of the other teamsters were having similar difficulties. “See what I mean?”
“All I see is that there’s probably not going to be a good place to leave this rig near the pavilion,” he replied. “Would it be all right if I let you ladies off near the door and then looked for a spot around the corner? There should be more room on Market Street, as long as the drovers have their cattle rounded up and moved on by now.”
“Of course,” Tess said, hoping her inflection wouldn’t inadvertently reveal a desire to remain near the handsome fireman. “You can stop anywhere. I see the banner. This is where we belong.”
“In your opinion.” Michael huffed. “I don’t believe I have ever seen so many women gathered in one place before. There must be thousands.”
Tess tensed. “Wait. How will you find us again if we go inside without you?”
“I don’t know. If you weren’t wearing that enormous hat I could probably spot you in the crowd by your pr— By your hair.”
“You were going to say pretty, weren’t you?” She smiled, amused by the way his cheeks grew more ruddy in the light from the streetlamps surrounding the enormous meeting hall.
“It would be wrong of me to mention such things, Miss Clark.”
That made her laugh softly. “But I would find it delightful if you did. Does that embarrass you, Michael?”
“Of course not.”
He brought the buggy to a halt as close to the curb as possible, then quickly helped both young women alight and saw them to the curb before once again climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Take off your hat after you get inside,” he called over the din of the crowd. “I’ll find you.”
She knew that her eyes must be twinkling because she was keenly amused when she shouted back, “And how will you do that, sir?”
Michael paused just long enough to lean down from his perch and say more privately, “By your beautiful, dark red hair.” Then he flicked the reins and the horse took off.
Beside her, Tess heard Annie sigh. “Oh, my. That man’s smile could melt butter in the middle of winter.” The shorter girl had clasped her hands over her heart and was clearly mooning.
For some reason Annie’s overt interest in Michael needled Tess. She knew it was foolish to allow herself to be bothered, since the maid was a far more likely social choice for him to make than she was.
Nevertheless, Tess was surprised and a little saddened by a twinge of jealousy. What was wrong with her? Was she daft? Just because a man was stalwart and handsome and so glib-tongued that his very words sent shivers up her spine, it didn’t mean that she should take his supposed interest seriously. After all, she was a Clark, a member of the San Francisco upper crust. And as such she did have a family reputation to uphold whether she thought it a silly pretense or not.
Standing tall and leading the way, Tess gathered a handful of skirt for ease of walking and crossed the lawn to the wide entry doors of the meeting hall. There were ladies from all walks of life proceeding with her in a flowing tide of gracious yet clearly animated womanhood, she noted, pleased and energized by the atmosphere.
Perhaps this suffragette movement would remove some of the social stigmas that had always set her apart from many of her good sister Christians like Annie, she mused. If it did nothing else, she would be forever grateful.
Michael worked his way slowly south on Van Ness Avenue and turned onto Market Street. As he had hoped, there was plenty of room there for the Clark buggy. He tipped a small boy in tattered knee britches and a slouchy cap to watch the rig for him while he was gone, then headed back for Mechanics’ Pavilion at a trot.
He hadn’t gone a hundred yards when a man grabbed his arm and stopped him. It was one of his fellow firemen.
“Hey, Michael, me boy. Where’re you bound in such a hurry?”
Before thinking, he answered, “The pavilion.”
That young man, and those with him, guffawed. “No wonder you’re wearin’ your uniform. If you’re lookin’ to use that badge to impress a good woman, you surely won’t find one there. Where are you really goin’?”
“None of your business, O’Neill.”
“Now, now, don’t be trying to get above yourself, boyo.” He laughed again, spewing the odor of strong drink on a cloud of his breath.
“Don’t worry about me,” Michael replied with disdain. “Just take care of yourself and don’t end up in a bar fight again.”
O’Neill’s only reply was a hearty laugh and a slap on the back as he shared his amusement with most of the others gathered nearby.
Michael hurried away from the group of obviously inebriated men, hoping none of them decided to trail after him on a lark. It wasn’t that he felt he couldn’t handle himself well in any situation. He just didn’t want his cronies to follow him all the way to Tess and continue their taunts, straining the difficult circumstances even further.
He needn’t have worried. Getting past the crowd milling around in the street and on the sidewalks and lawn bordering the enormous Mechanics’ Pavilion was so difficult, Michael doubted he’d be followed by anyone.
It was all he could do to work his way through to the meeting hall entrance. First he had to run the gauntlet of shouting, chanting, angry men carrying placards denouncing the women’s movement, then convince the uniformed police officers posted at the doors that his intentions were peaceful and honorable.
“I escorted several young ladies,” Michael shouted to the guards. “They’re waiting for me inside. I promised to join them.” He held up his right hand, palm out. “On my honor.”
The burly doormen looked at each other and then back at him, clearly cognizant of his official fireman’s attire. “All right,” one of them said. “But any trouble from you and you’re headed for the paddy wagon just like anybody else. We’ve got more’n one waitin’ right out back.”
“I promise I’m not going to be a problem,” Michael vowed, still holding up his hand and doffing his hat as he sidled through the narrow space between the two broad-shouldered officers.
The door most of the women were using stood wide-open. That feminine multitude was sweeping through without being questioned, although many were casting sidelong glances at each other as if they were either worried or wary. Or both. He supposed, given that this kind of gathering was such an unusual occurrence, it was natural for some of them to be uneasy particularly if their husbands didn’t know where they had gone.
On the other hand there were the stalwarts like Tess, who were obviously not intimidated by a crowd, especially not by one composed mainly of members of the fairer persuasion. How on earth could he hope to locate her among this mass of velvet and feathers, furs and veils? Surely she’d realize his dilemma and at least wave her hand in the air from time to time.
Straining with cap in hand, he stretched to his full six-foot height to peer at the seething mass of well-dressed women. Those who did not have fancy hats covered with flowers and feathers were in the minority, although there did seem to be a fair number of plainer bonnets or uncovered heads as well. That was where he’d made his mistake. By assuming that only Tess would be bareheaded, he’d become overconfident.
The press of the crowd was stifling. Various aromas of perfume assaulted him as they mixed and permeated the already overly warm inside air.
He raised his eyes to the vaulted ceiling and was in the midst of a short, silent prayer for guidance when he noticed a gallery.
As he headed for the stairway leading to the upper tier he continued to pray. “Father, I know there’s no way I’ll ever find Tess in this mess unless You help me.” His heart skipped and hammered. “Please?”
Gaining the landing, he gripped the rail and gazed down at the rows and rows of benches facing a stage where several well-dressed but otherwise unremarkable ladies sat. If not for their position at the podium, he would have assumed they were merely a part of the audience.
Would Tess press closer to the stage so she could observe the speaker’s expressions? He assumed so, given her earlier conversation and the determined way she had been behaving.
Starting at the center near the front, Michael began to systematically scan the crowd row by row. He had to force himself to take his time and study the back of each person’s head carefully in spite of his burgeoning anxiety.
His “Where are you?” was spoken barely above a whisper. There? No, that wasn’t her. How about…? No.
Jostled and pushed, he stubbornly clung to his place at the railing and prayed he wouldn’t have to actually return to the ground floor and make a spectacle of himself in order to locate and be reunited with the two young women. Bringing them there in the first place was bad enough. Calling attention to such a folly would be a hundred times worse.
Michael took a sudden gulp of air. There! Was that her?
Maybe. Maybe not. His breathing was already ragged and his heart was pounding exactly the way it did every time he answered a fire alarm. His hands fisted on the rail. He wanted to shout out, to call to Tess. To see if it truly was her he was staring at.
Fear for her safety and well-being stopped him. There might be few folks in this particular crowd who would recognize wealthy Gerald Bell Clark’s daughter on sight, but many knew her name only from the society pages of the Chronicle. It would be unwise to call attention to her in this unusual situation, especially since he was currently too far away to protect her if need be.
Watching and continuing to hold perfectly still, he willed the reddish-haired woman to turn her head just the slightest so he could be certain.
In moments she did better than that. Standing and swiveling while she removed her coat, she looked over the crowd behind her, eventually letting her gaze rise and come to rest on the balcony.
Michael tensed. His breath whooshed out with relief. There was no doubt. It was Tess.
He was about to leave his place to join her when he saw her raise her arm, grin broadly and wave to him as if she had just spotted the most important person present.
To his delight and equally strong sense of self-disgust, he was so thrilled by her candid reaction that he temporarily froze.
In all the time they had been acquainted, Tess had never looked at him that way before. Or had she? He blinked to clear his head and sort out his racing thoughts. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, he kept imagining that perhaps she had done so and he had been too blind, too dunderheaded to have noticed. Until tonight.
As he started back down the stairs to join her he corrected that supposition. It wasn’t foolish to ignore Tess’s apparent personal interest. In his case it was the only intelligent thing to do. Even considering her to be a mere friend could prove detrimental.
The idea that she might actually covet a deeper relationship with him was unthinkable. Ridiculous. Nothing good—for either of them—could ever come from entertaining such an outrageous folly. Not even in his dreams.
Chapter Three
The sight of Michael gazing down upon her sent a tingle of awareness singing up Tess’s spine. There was no question that it was she whom he sought. The way his countenance lit up when he spotted her removed any possible doubt. And to her chagrin, she was just as thrilled to see him.
At her elbow, Annie gave a little shriek, “Up there! Is that Michael?”
Tess cast her a stern look. “Hush. You’ll embarrass him. He sees us. He’s coming.”
“I know.” Once again the maid’s hands were clasped in front of her as if preparing to pray. “My knees are knocking something awful.”
“Then sit down and get control of yourself,” Tess told her. “We don’t want to create a scene.”
Tess, too, seated herself after managing to tear her gaze from the sight of Michael Mahoney zigzagging his way through the throng to join them. It wasn’t easy to keep from peering over her shoulder in anticipation of his arrival. She kept herself busy by repositioning her hat and moving the pins that had held it firmly to her upswept hairdo.
Seconds ticked by. Tess was just about to stand and look for him anew when she sensed his presence.
“Is there room for me or shall I stand at the back of the room and wait?” he asked, bending to speak quietly into her ear.
Tess failed to suppress a shiver as his breath tickled her cheek and ruffled a tiny wisp of hair. She attempted to mask her reaction by gathering her skirts and scooting closer to Annie on her right.
“We’ll make room,” Tess said. “Please, join us.” She had expected him to immediately comply. When he hesitated, she glanced up and noticed that he seemed uneasy. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I just got a funny feeling.”
“Probably another little earthquake,” Tess said with a sigh. “I’ve felt several since we arrived. At first I thought it was just the press of the crowd and all the perfumery making me a bit dizzy, but once I sat down, I decided it couldn’t be that.”
She folded her coat on her lap and patted the small section of bench that she had just cleared. “Come. Sit down. I think they’re about to start the meeting.”
As Michael eased himself into the narrow space and his shoulder pressed against hers, Tess was once again light-headed. She blinked and tried to concentrate, to gauge whether or not they were experiencing more earth tremors at that very moment.
It was impossible to tell. San Francisco was so prone to such things that few citizens paid them any heed. Unless the shaking was strong enough to cause actual damage, which was rare, the local newspapers gave the quakes short shrift as well. Feeling the earth move was no more unusual than the fog off the bay or the wind that preceded a storm.
Tess would have scooted closer to Annie if there had been a smidgen of room left. Unfortunately all the benches were packed, including theirs. That was a good omen for the suffragette movement but it certainly worsened her predicament.
If only she had had the presence of mind to keep her coat on as a buffer, she mused. Not only was she starting to sense an aura of warmth emanating from Michael, she was beginning to imagine that she could actually feel the man’s muscles through the gathered sleeve of her blouse. That was impossible of course, yet she could not shake the unsettling sensation.
Leaning away a fraction of an inch, she noted that he shifted his position ever so slightly, too. Although he had obviously twisted to make more room for her, he had also placed himself so he could effortlessly slip his arm around her shoulders if he so desired!
That notion stole Tess’s remaining breath. In her heart of hearts she wanted him to do exactly that. In the logical part of her brain, however, she knew he would never be so bold. Getting him to escort them to the lecture was already more than she had expected. Making this into a shared, pleasurable excursion was out of the question. The only reason Michael was even sitting with them was because he was trying to be gallant.
“You don’t have to stay right here if you don’t want to,” Tess offered, hoping to gain a respite for her over-taxed senses and imagination without revealing her reasons for needing one. “We can meet you outside after the speaking is over.”
Michael shook his head and cupped a hand around his mouth to speak as privately as possible. “I’d rather not. You are too vulnerable, Miss Clark. If anyone saw through your disguise it could pose a problem.”
“I don’t see how.”
She noted his frown and the hoarseness of his voice as he replied, “You would be a valuable prize for anyone wanting to get back at your father or perhaps seeking a ransom.”
“Me? That’s preposterous.”
“All the same, I’m not about to leave you. Either of you,” he added, leaning farther forward to include Annie.
Just then, a portly matron in a copious cape and broad-brimmed hat paused in the aisle next to him and cleared her throat noisily.
When Michael didn’t rise, she said, “I fear you have not noticed a lady in need of a seat, young man. I would think a member of a fire brigade, like yourself, would have better manners.”
Although he set his jaw, he did stand, bow and reluctantly relinquish his place to the demanding woman.
If Tess had not been so relieved that he had been forced to give her some breathing space, she might have felt sorry for him.
“I’ll be waiting for you right outside the south door, the one we came in,” Michael had said in parting. “Keep an eye out for me.”
It had eased his mind some when Tess had nodded but he was still nervous about leaving her. After all, she was naïve about the inherent dangers of gatherings such as this. At least he assumed she was.
He had occasionally seen her in the Clark family pew in church and was certain she had also attended fashionable soirees, but this kind of open meeting was totally different. Here, she might come across anyone from any walk of life. How she would handle such encounters was his main concern. If she exhibited the same high and mighty attitude he’d observed so far, she could wind up in serious trouble.
To Michael’s chagrin, some of the same firemen he’d encountered earlier were gathered just outside the very door he had instructed Tess to use. That left him no option but to face them.
James O’Neill was puffing on a cigar. He began to grin wryly as soon as he spotted Michael. “Well, well. I see you were tellin’ the truth. Have ye gone over to the ladies’ side now?”
“Of course not. I’m just doing a favor for my mother’s employer, that’s all.”
“Oh, and what would that be?”
Keeping his voice light and a smile in place so the other men wouldn’t take offense, Michael changed the subject rather than answer directly. “Never mind that. What’re all of you doing here? Did you follow me?”
“Naw. We’re slumming,” O’Neill replied, laughing raucously. “We decided to take a gander at the lovely girls.” He roared with glee at his supposedly clever remark. “Have ye seen ’em? I’d sooner kiss me own sister.”
“I wouldn’t want to kiss your sister either—if you had one,” Michael countered, joining in the laughter. “She’d look too much like you—and you are one ugly fellow.”
“Well said,” O’Neill shot back, clapping Michael on the back and blowing smoke rings. “C’mon. Let’s go find us a good pub and get some beer.”
“Can’t,” Michael said. “I told you. I’m working.”
“Moonlighting, eh? All right. Have it your way.” He motioned to his cronies with a broad wave of his arm and a slight unsteadiness in his gait. “Let’s go, boys.”
Michael was relieved to see them walk away without further probing into his evening’s plans. He wasn’t ashamed of Tess—or of Annie. He just didn’t want to take the chance of having his name linked by gossip with that of the young, beautiful socialite. It not only wasn’t accurate, it wasn’t seemly.
Although he was successfully climbing the promotion ladder within his chosen field, that didn’t mean he considered himself worthy to court a highborn woman like Tess Clark. No matter how well he rose in the fire department ranks, some facts would never change. He was who he was. That he had accomplished as much as he already had was a testimony to his zeal for the job and honest hard work.
For that Michael was thankful, because it meant he’d had no unearned favors handed to him nor had he sought any. His rank and anticipated promotion were his responsibility and his reward.
“With the help of the good Lord,” he added, casting a brief glance at the cloudy night sky beyond the streetlamps and remembering his spiritual roots. His father had not imparted any belief system but his mother had made up for it with a strong faith that never seemed to waver. As far as Michael was concerned, if he could become half the Christian his mother was, he’d be in good shape.
When the elderly, spry, white-haired president of the local society for the advancement of women stood, the crowd hushed. In a clear but reedy voice she introduced Maud Younger to a roar of applause and cheering.
Tess was surprised to note that Miss Younger didn’t look nearly as old as she had imagined she’d be. Her clothing was a simple but fashionable white lawn waist with vertical tucks and a dark skirt, fitted by plaiting from waist to hip that accentuated her spare figure. Her grace and regal bearing reminded Tess a bit of her own mother, although this woman was barely old enough to have belonged to the same generation.
“Good evening,” Miss Younger said, her voice carrying strongly. “As many of you know, I was born and raised right here in your fair city, and although I have been traveling the globe, I feel as though I’ve come home when I gaze upon the bay and wharves once again.” She smiled. “They smell the same, too.”
That brought a wave of laughter. She waited for it to subside before continuing. “Many of you come from a background of wealth. Others don’t. That makes no difference in our movement. Here, we are all sisters, all equal in the eyes of God. Our goal is to make ourselves just as equal in the eyes of our fellow men, which brings me to the point. We have been treated as second-class citizens for countless generations. It is time for that unfair servitude to end.”
As the cheers of the crowd rose and the entire audience stood to applaud, Tess felt a surge of pride for those present. Miss Younger was right. They were all equal. She had felt for a long time that she and Annie certainly were. Why, they had often shared the notion that they might as well be family. This movement was the affirmation of that idea, the answer to Tess’s fervent prayers for understanding and equality.
Beside her, on the aisle, she heard a muttered yet clearly derogatory comment. Wide-eyed, she turned to the portly woman who had usurped Michael’s place, studying her features closely for the first time. “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s that evil harridan up there who should beg all our pardons,” the matron said, frowning and pointing to the stage. “Does your father know you’re here?”
“What?” Tess squinted at the round, jowly face. “Do I know you?”
“You certainly should. My husband and I see you every Sunday in church.”
Recognition buzzed at the fringes of Tess’s mind the way flies worried a horse’s flanks in the summer. There was a fair chance that she had encountered this particular person in the past but she couldn’t attach a name to that memory. “I’m so sorry, Mrs.…”
“Blassingame. Mrs. Henry Blassingame. But never you mind,” the woman said, gathering herself as if she were a mother hen with ruffled feathers. “You just watch your p’s and q’s, young lady. Mark my words, this whole movement will do nothing but cause trouble.”
Tess faced her nemesis as the applause died down, determined to give as good as she got. “You don’t see yourself as equal to me, Mrs. Blassingame? That’s a pity.”
“Well, I never…” The woman spun and shuffled up the aisle, her skirts swinging from side to side like a huge, clanging bell.
Tess felt a tug on her skirt from Annie and resumed her place on the bench.
“We should go before she tells your father,” the maid said with unshed tears glistening. “The Blassingames are rich enough to have a telephone. If she rings him, he’ll discover we’re gone.”
“I’m not afraid of Papa,” Tess said, although she did feel an undeniable twinge of nervousness. She smiled for Annie’s benefit. “If you’re worried, then we’ll go home now. I’m sure that will please Michael, too.”
“There’s another meeting tomorrow night and the night after,” Annie offered. “Maybe you can get someone else to take you.”
Starting down the aisle, Tess lightly grasped her friend’s arm with one hand and carried her heavy coat draped over the other. “Don’t you want to come with me, too?”
“Mercy, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because it seems so wrong,” Annie said, speaking quietly aside. “Look at all these women. They should be at home with their families. I know some must have husbands or children. That’s where their duty lies.”
“Can’t they be individuals as well?” Tess asked. “I believe I am.”
“Of course you are. You have all the money you’ll ever need. But I don’t. I never will. Neither will my poor mother, and if folks get all riled up about this suffragette movement, there’s no telling how it will affect the likes of us.”
“You’re really afraid?”
Annie nodded vigorously. “Terrified is more like it.”
“Then I apologize,” Tess said tenderly. “I should never have insisted we come. I’m just so used to the two of us doing things together, I never thought about how being here might feel to you. I certainly didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. How can I make it up to you?”
“Pray. Hard,” Annie said. “That’s what I’ve been doing ever since we left your estate.”
“Good idea. Oh, dear. Look.”
Pausing at the archway of the exit door, Tess peered out at the milling crowd that awaited them. She and Annie were the only ones leaving early and without the buffering presence of the other women inside the hall, they were going to have to run a gauntlet of angry husbands, fathers and brothers. Even those men who were merely standing there smoking and chatting with their cronies had begun staring as if she and her frightened maid were escaping criminals.
Tess had Annie help her don her bulky black coat before she turned and squared her shoulders. Facing such a show of strength and greater size, she felt minuscule but she was not about to let any shred of apprehension show.
Head high, she walked directly into the fray as if she expected the group to part the way the Red Sea had for Moses and grant her unhindered passage. To her surprise and delight, the closest men did just that.
Chapter Four
Michael saw Tess coming. Before he could reach her and Annie, however, they had been accosted by several of the angry men who’d been lurking amidst the crowd.
He had to push his way through to get to the women. Tess was standing her ground but poor Annie was cowering and weeping into her hands.
“Shame on you,” Tess shouted at their nearest adversaries as she pulled the crying girl closer. “See what you’ve done? You’re nothing but a bunch of nasty bullies.”
Hearing that kind of talk made Michael cringe. He clenched his fists as he joined the young women and quickly placed himself between them and their antagonists. Surprise was on his side. Numbers were not. He was only one man and there were at least five of the others, two of whom looked able to defend themselves most adequately.
He slipped his arm around Tess’s shoulders, including Annie in the embrace as best he could and said, “Sorry boys. My sisters need to be getting home. C’mon, girls. Papa’s waiting.”
It didn’t surprise him one bit when Tess tried to twist out of his grip as he began to shepherd them away.
“Let go of us,” she grumbled, loud enough to be heard by almost anyone within twenty or thirty feet.
Michael grinned over his shoulder at the other men and shrugged as if silently appealing for sympathy. The ruse worked. They started to chuckle and one of them gave him a thumbs-up.
Beside him Tess continued to make loud, intemperate statements as he hustled her along the sidewalk. “Stop this. I demand you release me, Michael Mahoney. Do you hear me? There is no need for strong-arm tactics. I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, yeah?” He lowered his voice. “And how were you going to get away from that confrontation back there? Talk them out of it?”
“I was handling the situation quite adequately.”
“That wasn’t how it looked to me,” he argued.
Deciding that they were out of danger, at least for the moment, he slackened his hold and Tess immediately shook him off.
She paused long enough to straighten her hat, withdraw one of the long pins that had held it in place and brandish the thin shaft like a sword. “See? I could have defended myself.”
“For about two seconds, until one of those fellows disarmed you.” He eyed the flimsy weapon. “Put that away before you hurt somebody.”
“You mean like you?”
“Yeah, like me,” Michael answered. “You seem to be having trouble telling your friends from your enemies these days and I’d just as soon be out of reach if you suddenly decide I’m one of the villains.”
“According to Mrs. Blassingame, that woman who took your seat, it’s Maud Younger who’s evil. Imagine that.”
“I can. Easily,” he countered. “Almost any man out here would agree.” He knew he’d spoken too candidly when he saw Tess’s eyes narrow. Although she did stick the hat pin back where it belonged, her motions were abrupt and jerky, indicating that her temper was far from soothed.
She grabbed Annie’s hand and forged ahead with the girl in tow. Rather than object, Michael fell into step in their wake. Their party was now far enough from the pavilion that they wouldn’t automatically be connected with the ongoing suffrage lecture if they happened to be observed. That was a huge relief.
“Turn right at the corner of Market,” he called. “The buggy is down about half a block. You can’t miss it.”
Although Tess didn’t answer, he noted that she was heeding his instructions. Fine. Let her brood or fuss and fume or whatever else she wanted to do. As long as she went straight to the cabriolet without getting into any more trouble on the way, he’d be satisfied. It had been sheer folly to let himself be talked into making this trip in the first place. The sooner it was over, the happier he’d be.
Tess would have given a month’s allowance to have had another handy mode of transportation. Oh, she knew she could hire a hack to deliver her and Annie to the top of Nob Hill or even take a streetcar part of the way. It wasn’t that. The problem was, she had to see to it that her father’s rig was returned promptly and in apple-pie order. He was rightly proud of the sleek black, covered buggy with its deep green trim and bloodred upholstery, as well as his fine stable.
The bay mare that they were driving tonight, however, was technically Tess’s. It had been a birthday gift, although her father still acted as if he were lord and master over his entire domain, including all the horses, even hers.
Without waiting for assistance she approached the side of the cabriolet, hiked her skirts, placed a booted foot on the small step and reached for a handhold with which to pull herself aboard.
The oversize coat was a bother because it hampered her freedom of movement. Nevertheless, she did not intend to stand there and wait for a bossy man who obviously didn’t think she could take care of herself.
She grasped the slim metal roof supports with gloved hands and pulled herself up. Or tried to. She did lift partway off the ground but that was as far as she got. Not only was she stopped abruptly when a portion of the hem of her coat was caught beneath her boot, that yanking action caused her to lose her grip.
Tess was badly off balance before she even realized she’d made an error. Arms cartwheeling like the blades of a misaligned windmill, her body stretched and began a slow motion, backward arc.
Annie screeched. “Look out!”
Tess gritted her teeth. In the split second it took her to realize what was happening, she barely had time to hope her fall wasn’t going to harm her best friend.
Gasping once, Tess stifled a scream. She threw her arms back to try to catch herself, fully expecting to feel the impact of the cobblestones through her skirt and petticoats as she landed.
Then, suddenly, she was caught up in strong arms that swung her away from Annie and safeguarded them both.
“I’ve gotcha. You’re okay,” Michael said, sounding breathless.
Tess’s instincts for self-preservation kicked in and she sensibly looped one arm around his neck to stabilize herself. That brought their faces closer together than they had ever been before.
Her eyes widened. The brim of her elaborately decorated hat was the only thing keeping them apart and she could feel his warm breath through the veil.
She wanted to speak in her own defense, perhaps even to chastise him for taking such liberties. But no suitable words came to her, nor could she seem to find enough fresh air to satisfy her needs.
Michael stared into her eyes. He was not smiling. “Are you all right, Miss Clark?”
Tess tried to take another usable breath, this time succeeding. “Yes.” It was hardly more than a hoarse whisper.
She found it impossible to look away, to tear her gaze from Michael’s. Eyes that she had always known were a rich brown had become bottomless pools of indescribable emotion. Their eddies whirled, drawing her further and further in until she was as lost in their depths as a hapless mariner abroad in a hurricane.
Still, Michael held her close. Neither of them moved. Neither spoke. Tess noticed for the first time that she was actually embracing him and she knew it was wrong to continue to do so. She was also unwilling to relax her hold even a smidgen.
It was Annie whose words finally brought Tess to her senses. The girl grasped her sleeve. “Miss Tess! Are you all right? Are you faint?”
“No.” The denial didn’t sound nearly as firm as she’d intended. She began lean sideways and to push her rescuer away. “I’ll thank you to put me down.”
“Gladly.” Michael set her on her feet so abruptly that Tess swayed for a moment. Although she knew instinctively that he was close enough to catch her again if she faltered, she was determined to thwart any such efforts.
Instead, she reached for Annie’s hand to steady herself. “My coat was caught. I think I may have stepped on the hem. I’m fine, now.”
“I know. I saw,” Annie said. “I’m so sorry. If I’d realized sooner I’d have helped…”
Behind them Michael cleared his throat. “If you ladies are through making apologies, I suggest we be on our way. Once that lecture is over and the crowd disperses, we could be delayed a long time by traffic.”
“I agree,” Tess said.
She took the hand he offered, careful to keep from looking directly at him as she gracefully gained her seat and scooted over to make room for Annie.
What on earth had just happened between her and Michael? She could barely think, let alone recall every thing that had transpired. He had caught her and kept her from falling, of that she was certain, but in the ensuing seconds something extraordinary had passed between them. Something she had never before felt with anyone, let alone an appealing man like him.
There had been a depth to their poignant bond that was inexpressible. And he had felt it, too. She knew he had. Chances were good that he’d be able to continue to mask his emotional involvement but she wasn’t fooled. She’d seen it in his eyes, had felt it in the way he’d held her close. Michael Mahoney had been every bit as touched as she had and no amount of rational thought was ever going to convince her otherwise.
Rational thought? Tess had to smile. There was nothing rational about the way she was beginning to feel about Michael. On the contrary, if she had been anyone but who she was, she might have been foolish enough to imagine she was falling in love with the handsome fireman.
That was impossible, of course. Tess’s smile waned. She sighed. Some things might be changing in the way women perceived themselves but certain constraints of society could never be breached. One of them was the proper choice of a mate. She had standards to uphold. Duties to fulfill. She had already taken on some of the tasks inherent in running her father’s home, such as acting as hostess when he entertained the hoi polloi of San Francisco. There was no way to continue to do that if she turned her back on her place in the normal scheme of things.
A sadness settled over Tess the way the fog often shrouded the bay. Why was it so easy for her to accept Annie and others like her, yet fail to fully accept the person she herself really was?
Michael didn’t speak to his passengers again until he brought the buggy to a halt in front of the Clark estate. The way he viewed the situation, the less he tried to explain, the better. Besides, he hadn’t had time to sort out his thoughts regarding the astounding way Tess had reacted when he’d raced to the rescue and caught her.
I couldn’t stand back and let her fall, he insisted, wondering if perhaps he should have done just that. He was beginning to see that his strong sense of chivalry might prove to be his undoing—unless he was very, very careful in the future.
It was going to be at least another year, maybe longer, before he’d be financially able to support his mother. If she lost her job at the Clarks’ before that time, it would be a serious hardship. And if Gerald Clark had the slightest notion that his only daughter was being squired all over San Francisco by his cook’s son, that was exactly what would happen.
Michael steeled himself for the berating he was certain Tess would deliver in parting. As long as he remained duly deferential, no matter how much it hurt his pride to do so, he figured the evening would end fairly well, considering.
As he prepared to help the ladies disembark, a young groom joined him and took hold of the mare’s bridle.
Michael first helped Annie down, then offered his hand to Tess. So far, so good, he thought. Then he made the mistake of looking into those lovely eyes once again. They glistened like fresh drops of rain on a rose. And her cheeks reminded him of the velvety pink petals.
He blinked to clear his thoughts, to refocus on the task at hand without making a worse fool of himself than he already had. Unfortunately for him, Tess smiled and his heart sped as a direct result.
“Thank you,” she said pleasantly as she stepped down. “It was good of you to agree to accompany us this evening.”
Michael bowed slightly and released her hand, backing away as he did so. “My pleasure, ladies.”
He heard Annie make a sound that reminded him of wind whistling through a nearly closed window sash. Tess, on the other hand, laughed demurely.
He arched a brow. “Did I say something humorous?”
“Yes. But you did it in a very gentlemanly manner.” She giggled behind her hand. “I’m sorry. It was just so plain that you didn’t want to go, it tickled me to hear you claim it was your pleasure.”
“Perhaps it was the good company I enjoyed rather than your destination.” The instant Michael heard his words he rued them.
“Perhaps.”
“Or perhaps I simply like driving a nice rig.” He gestured at the mare. “That’s a fine animal.”
“Yes. She’s mine.”
“Really? If you chose her, you did well.”
“Thank you.” Instead of leaving him and going inside, she walked to the horse and began stroking its sleek neck with her gloved hand. “Actually, she was one of my father’s but I asked for her for myself. He finally gave her to me on my sixteenth birthday.”
“Nice gift,” Michael said, thinking about how little he was able to afford to give his mother no matter how much he wanted to please and honor her. In contrast, the gift of such a magnificent horse only served to point up the difference between his and Tess’s lives.
“I can have one of the stable boys drive you home, if you’d like,” Tess offered.
Michael shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m used to walking.”
“And it’s almost all downhill from here.”
Boy, is that the truth, he thought, biting his tongue to keep from speaking his mind. It would be downhill for him for sure if he did what his heart and mind kept suggesting. The mere idea of pulling Tess Clark into his arms and kissing her rosy cheek the way he wanted to was enough to make him blush as well as tie his gut in a knot.
It was also a clear warning. There were few things he could do that would be worse than acting the swain. As a matter of fact, right then he couldn’t think of anything that would be more foolish. Or more appealing.
He touched the brim of his cap politely and backed farther away. “I’ll be saying good night, then.”
“Good night,” Tess replied.
Michael knew he had to be imagining the tenderness in her tone and the personal interest in her charming gaze. If there was something unusual there it had to be that she was toying with him, pretending to care to lead him on so she could have a good laugh at his expense.
Well, that was never going to happen. He might be a tad smitten if he were totally honest with himself, but that feeling would pass. Tess would never know her flirting had affected him at all, let alone given him thoughts of courting. He was too smart to yield to such impossible yearnings. Too smart and too determined to triumph on his own. He didn’t need anyone’s influence or money to succeed. He was well on his way to becoming a captain. Nothing else was as important as that.
Not even love?
His jaw clenched. The clomp of his boots echoed hollowly on the sidewalk as he began to trot down the hill toward home, back to the reality that was his daily life. There was no way that he might care that much for Tess, nor she for him. Love was an overrated emotion, anyway. His mother had always insisted that his father had loved her, yet Michael had never seen him demonstrate anything but disrespect—when he was sober. When he was drunk, which was most of the time, he was just plain cruel.
That was another reason why Michael wanted to succeed. It was his fondest wish to provide well for his mother in her old age. She had worked tirelessly to raise him, practically alone, and she had earned a rest. Soon he’d be able to give it to her. Soon he’d get the promotion he’d been working so hard for.
He slowed his pace and began to whistle a tune. His life hadn’t been easy but he’d come a long way since his upbringing as one of the immigrant children who were disparagingly called wharf rats. Someday, Lord willing, he’d be able to put that all behind him and never look back.
Chapter Five
Tess was barely inside the cavernous foyer of the family mansion and was standing in front of the mirrored hall tree removing her hat when she heard a familiar, attention-getting cough.
Annie immediately hiked her skirts and fled up the side stairs toward her own quarters.
Tess whirled to face the source of the cough. “Good evening, Father. How are you?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” Gerald Clark said. He hooked one thumb in his vest pocket, took a puff of the fat cigar in his other hand and blew out a smoke ring as he eyed his daughter from head to toe.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Tess replied. She would gladly have retreated to her room if her father had not placed himself directly in her path. To her chagrin, he was taking note of her meager disguise.
“Have you no decent wrap? I thought you had a much more suitable coat than that old one.”
“It was mother’s,” Tess said.
“I’m well aware of that.” His eyes narrowed in a scowl while he took in the familiar hat with its special, jet pin as part of the decoration. “Are you mocking me?”
Tess’s heart melted and she put aside her personal concerns in order to comfort him. “Oh, Father, it’s nothing like that. Honestly.” She stepped close enough to briefly pat his free hand. “We—Annie and I—just wanted something dark and unremarkable to wear into the city. I never intended for you to see us dressed like this. I would never do anything to hurt you. Surely, you know that.”
“I had thought so, until now,” Gerald answered. “Would you care to tell me why you chose to go out so late in the evening?”
There was nothing Tess could honorably do but answer truthfully. She busied herself removing her gloves so she wouldn’t have to keep staring into his face, wouldn’t see his disappointment when she confessed.
“It was all my idea. I wanted to hear Maud Younger speak at Mechanics’ Pavilion and Annie was good enough to accompany me.” She looked up in time to see a flush of color start rising in the older man’s face.
“So I have been given to understand.”
“Then you know I’m telling you the truth.”
“Yes. I find your actions quite disappointing. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything wrong or unseemly. The crowd was very large and I’m sure my presence went unnoticed, at least for the most part.”
“You will not go again,” her father said flatly.
That was his normal manner of making his wishes known, yet this time it rankled Tess more than usual. “I cannot promise that,” she replied, feeling a surge of power accompanied by an equal amount of foreboding.
“What?”
If Tess had thought his face flushed before, it was pale compared to the way it looked now. She could almost imagine jets of steam escaping from his ears. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Father, but there is nothing bad about my attending meetings composed of genteel women, and I shall do so again if I choose.”
“Bah.” He bit down on the end of the cigar and kept it clamped between his teeth as he glared at her.
There had been many instances in the past when Tess had cowered under her father’s powerfully intent stare. Not this time. Although she hadn’t stayed for Miss Younger’s entire lecture she had been impressed by the atmosphere of freedom within the hall. That and the suffragette pamphlets she had read and reread so many times that they were almost falling apart had given her inner strength.
Tess straightened her spine, nodded and took a few steps, sidling past her father to start up the spiral staircase. “I respect and admire you, Papa,” she paused to say. “Please try to afford me the same.”
She didn’t look back and heard no comment in her wake. By the time she reached the sanctuary of her private suite and closed the outer door behind her, she was trembling at the thought of what she had just said and done. Still, she had succeeded. She had politely stood up to her father and he had not screamed or cursed at her the way he sometimes did the servants. As far as she was concerned, that had been a big, big step toward her eventual emancipation.
Sighing, Tess leaned her back against the door. Praise God. Not only had she managed to temper her father’s expected wrath, she had done so without having to mention Michael Mahoney’s participation in the evening’s escapade. For that, she was most thankful of all.
Given the way her heart leaped at the mere thought of that attractive man, she was afraid her father—and anyone else who saw her—might discern that she was enamored with Michael to the point of idiocy. She could still imagine the sensation of being held in his strong arms, of feeling his breath on her cheek, of yearning to be near him every moment.
Heart pounding, breathing shallow and ragged, Tess fought to subdue her roiling emotions. What was wrong with her? Was she becoming unhinged? Scripture plainly warned against coveting and that was exactly what she was doing.
Is it wrong to merely daydream? she asked herself. Surely not. After all, if people had no lofty dreams and aspirations they would never accomplish anything of value.
“Yes, except this is an impossible dream,” she whispered into her otherwise unoccupied boudoir.
She knew her conclusion was right. She also knew that she dared not confess her foolish imaginings to anyone. There were some things, some very personal things, that must remain private. Tess had shared many secrets with Annie Dugan, especially during the recent years after Mama’s passing, but this ridiculous infatuation would not be one of them.
It occurred to Tess to wish that Michael would take serious notice of Annie instead, but she found she couldn’t carry through with an actual prayer for such a thing. Seeing him courting the maid—or anyone else for that matter—would be like the thrust of a dagger through Tess’s tender heart.
Breathless, she stood quietly and tried to understand why she was so overcome with unfathomable emotion. She had been acquainted with Michael for at least six years, ever since her father had hired Mary as their cook, yet she had never viewed him this way before.
She and Michael had talked and joked and had even engaged in innocent child’s play as youngsters, such as the time they had been verbally sparring in the kitchen and she had blown a handful of flour onto his dark, wavy hair, then had laughed and run away.
Michael had chased and caught her in the rose garden, holding tight to her wrist so she couldn’t have escaped no matter how hard she’d struggled.
“Let me go!” Tess had screeched, trying her best to twist free.
“Not on your life.” He had been laughing, too, as he had shaken his hair and spread a dusting of the flour onto her blue frock. They had laughed, chased, played. Had a perfectly wonderful time until Mary had called out to them, stopped the tussle and scolded her fun-loving son.
Now, however, even the memory of those sweet, innocent times was enough to make Tess tremble anew and yearn to see him again even if he paid her no attention whatsoever. Truth to tell, she mused, the less special attention he paid to her, the better for all involved.
That was an unarguable fact. So why was she having such a hard time convincing herself to accept it as the most sensible choice?
When Tess awoke the following morning she was still reliving every wonderful event from the previous evening, especially the trip to and from the pavilion.
Pulling back the heavy drapes at her window, she stood for a moment to bask in the welcome rays of sun that had finally burned through the dreary fog. It was easy to compare that kind of contrast to the way she’d felt before and after she’d nearly taken a tumble and had spent those blissful few moments resting in Michael’s arms. It was as if her whole life had been suddenly filled with a brightness so intense it was almost painful.
Dressing alone because she’d sent Annie back down the hill to visit her widowed mother, Tess descended the wide, sweeping staircase. First she’d breakfast with Father in the formal dining room the way she normally did. It might be trying to carry on a pleasant conversation after his negative reaction to her actions last night, but facing him this morning would help her discern whether or not he was still upset.
Entering the large, formal dining room she paused, puzzled. There was a floral centerpiece with unlit tapers standing tall and stately at each end of it. The handmade damask and lace cloth beneath was pristine, as always. However, the room was not occupied. Papa was not seated at the head of the table. Nor was there the usual silver coffee service waiting for him on the buffet.
Her breath whooshed out all at once when she realized what that meant. Papa had eaten early and left!
Immensely relieved to postpone facing the one person she never seemed able to fully please, Tess swept past the table with a lighter heart and lithe step and pushed the swinging door to enter the kitchen.
The cook looked up with a smile.
“Good morning, Mary.”
“Morning, miss. You heard that Mister Gerald has already had his breakfast?”
“I saw he was gone, yes.” Tess knew she was grinning foolishly but she couldn’t help herself. She’d fretted for hours the night before, anticipating a confrontation with her banker father, and it looked as if he’d put aside his displeasure—at least enough to go about his normal business rather than dally to chastise her. Annie would be very glad to hear that, too.
“I believe I’ll take my breakfast right here with you,” Tess told the cook.
The woman’s astonished expression made Tess giggle and ask, “What’s wrong? Does it bother you?”
“No, miss. I’m just surprised, is all. You haven’t been visiting me much since you got too big to beg sweets.”
“I’ll never be too old for that.” Tess pulled up the same stool Michael had used the day before, sat down and leaned her elbows on the table in spite of knowing it was poor etiquette to do so. “I like it here. I can relax and not worry about how I sit or how I eat or anything else. Can you understand that?”
Mary smiled and her apple cheeks brought happy crinkles to the corners of her brown eyes. “Aye. I’ve often wondered how ladies like you can stand to be laced up so tight and sit so proper all the time. I’d think it would be a terrible trial.”
“It is.” Tess accepted the cup of hot coffee Mary placed before her with a pleasant “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, miss.”
Although Tess had always felt at ease in the kitchen, whether she was grabbing a cookie or maybe sampling the upcoming meals, she could tell she had just taken another step forward in her relationship with Mary Mahoney, especially judging by how the older woman was smiling down on her.
“Your dear departed mother used to visit me this way,” Mary said. “Especially when…”
“When she knew she was about to pass?” Tess asked, her smile growing wistful.
“Aye. Mister Gerald didn’t want to listen to how she really felt so she’d come out here sometimes and talk to me. She was a lovely person.” The cook blinked back unshed tears. “And now that you’re grown, you’re the spitting image of her.”
“That’s what everyone says.” Moved, Tess paused to sip her coffee and used the time to compose herself. “I do miss her. It’s only been a little over four years, but there are times when I try to picture her face or recall the sound of her voice and I can’t quite do it.”
“That’s all right,” Mary said. “Remembering the love is all that counts. She loved you dearly.”
“I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t had my Annie to listen to me back then. It’s no wonder we’ve grown so close.”
“Where is Annie?” Mary looked past Tess toward the main part of the mansion. “Isn’t she hungry, too?”
“If she is, her own mother will be fixing her something,” Tess said. “She got so homesick after we’d been into the city last night, I sent her off to Mrs. Dugan’s early this morning. We had hoped to see her mother at the lecture but the crowd was so huge there was little chance of finding anyone in that mass of humanity.”
“Scrambled eggs all right?” Mary asked with her back to Tess.
“Yes, thank you. And in case you were wondering, Michael did a fine job as our chaperone.”
“I didn’t want to ask.”
Tess chuckled. “I could tell. Actually, he ended up scolding me worse than Papa did when I got home.”
“Oh, dear.”
The cook’s concern made Tess laugh more. “Don’t worry. I didn’t take offense.” And he also caught me when I almost fell. It was wonderful, Tess added to herself, lowering her lashes to stare into her coffee cup rather than let her gaze meet Mary’s and perhaps reveal too much.
“Good. I’m sure my son was only thinking of what was best for you.”
“So he said.” Tess felt her cheeks warming so much that she was certain it showed.
“Are you going back again tonight?” Mary asked.
That notion had already occurred to Tess. Her problem was not being able to count on Annie as a companion and proper chaperone. “I don’t think so.”
“’Tis a pity.”
“Why?” Surely, Michael had not expressed any desire to repeat the previous evening, so Tess was at a loss to understand the underlying reason for Mary’s question.
“Because I’d like to see what all the fuss is about,” the cook said with a slight smile. “I wouldn’t want to go alone, of course, but I thought…”
“I’d love to go with you,” Tess said, beaming. “What a wonderful idea.”
“Mister Gerald wouldn’t mind?”
“I’ve already warned him that I might attend again. I know he’ll approve of my choosing a sensible, mature woman like you for a companion.”
“Then it’s settled.” The cook slid Tess’s eggs onto a plate, added a warm biscuit and delivered the meal to the table.
When she paused there, Tess looked up at her with a smile. “Is there a problem?”
“Only with me old coat and hat,” Mary said. “’Tis good enough for church but I don’t want to embarrass you.”
“Anything that’s good enough for the Lord is certainly good enough for me,” Tess said. “If it really bothers you, though, I do have another coat and hat you may wear and then keep, if you like. They belonged to my mother.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“Nonsense. Annie wore them last night and they were too big for her so they should fit you perfectly. They’re still up in my room. I know Mother would want you to have them in any case.”
“It’s a darlin’ girl you are,” Mary said. “Your mama would be very proud.”
“I truly hope so,” she answered wistfully. “I wish she were still here so I could ask for her advice.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/valerie-hansen/rescuing-the-heiress-39928722/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
Valerie Hansen
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
Отзывы: Пока нет Добавить отзыв
О книге: Indulge your fantasies of delicious Regency Rakes, fierce Viking warriors and rugged Highlanders. Be swept away into a world of intense passion, lavish settings and romance that burns brightly through the centuriesValerie Hansen′s basic nature is to see the humorous side of life and enjoy every day to the fullest.She′s always loved stories about people who have successfully met life′s challenges and gone on to find happiness, so writing joyful love stories is a perfect outlet for her. Her personal life sounds a lot like a romance novel. She married her high school sweetheart and they raised two great kids before leaving California to pursue their dreams of a rural lifestyle in the Arkansas Ozarks.That relocation has also given her work a new, more spiritual focus than ever before. Valerie had gone to Sunday school as a child and attended church off and on as an adult, but didn′t really understand what was missing in her spiritual life until daily problems drove her to seek answers from a closer relationship with Jesus Christ. What a surprise! And what a difference in outlook. In the years that followed, she was continually amazed at the extraordinary opportunities that came her way. She still is.Valerie has always loved to write. That, and the strong conviction that this is what she was meant to do, led her to Steeple Hill and the Love Inspired series. Besides extensive research, she has plenty of interesting experiences to draw upon when creating stories: She′s been a veterinary assistant, teacher′s aide, volunteer fire department dispatcher, Emergency Medical Technician, bank worker, professional artist, store clerk, bookkeeper, 4-H leader, Sunday school teacher, gospel singer/songwriter, winning quiz show contestant, dog trainer, college extension-class instructor, and antique restorer. She′s built dulcimers and a psaltery, laid bricks and tile, designed stained-glass windows, roofed a house, decorated store windows for the holidays, helped pour cement, raised fancy guinea pigs and finches, driven a long-haul moving van, and was once the proud owner of 23 Newfoundland dogs at one time. Her advice? Don′t try that at home!Valerie and her husband now live on an 80-acre farm in northern Arkansas. She loves to hike the rocky, wooded hills behind the picturesque old house they renovated, watch for the wildlife so abundant in the area and think up new ideas for her books. She′s always been a dreamer, a romantic who invented happier endings for books and movies that didn′t already end on a lighthearted note. She was an adult before she realized that everybody didn′t automatically do the same thing!Valerie Hansen can be reached at: P. O. Box 13, Glencoe, AR 72539-0013. Or via e-mail at: val@valeriehansen. com.