Forbidden Fire

by Heather Graham

  He swept her up, laid her down and sank beside her. And setting his arm around her, he pulled her against his chest, holding her close.

  And there they both slept.

  When Marissa woke, she was alone. It was very early, still dark. It must have been about five o’clock. It was almost three days since the quake had struck.

  There was activity all around her. The children were up and awake. Darrin was playing with the baby, and Uncle Theo and Bobby were handing out pieces of bread.

  Ian was nowhere to be seen.

  “He’s gone out, Marissa,” Uncle Theo said, stopping by her side with a bucket of milk. “They’ve fixed one of the main water pipes—there’s some water again.”

  Even as he spoke, they heard a thunderous explosion, muted by distance, but still painfully clear.

  “They’re still dynamiting.”

  “Dynamite and cannons. They’re trying to save the docks. If they can do that, well, then, maybe it will be over,” Uncle Theo said. The city had burned for three days, Marissa thought. What could be left?

  “Come on, lass. We need to get these little ones fed. They’re going to be ferried over to Oakland this afternoon.”

  She smiled, because she could tell he wanted her to. Inside she felt a wall of misery building. San Francisco was nearly gone. These poor children would be lost.

  And after she had helped to get something into them, she learned from Bobby how bad matters really were. Some of the streets were empty now. The magnificent Palace Hotel had burned, despite all the planning and care that had gone into it. Great mansions on Nob Hill had burned. The fire-fighters, too busy to deal with those already lost, had been told to cast the deceased into the flames of the burning buildings.

  The Barbary Coast had burned, along with its Dead Man’s Alley, Murder Point and Bull Run Alley.

  Some thought it for the best.

  There was a fear of the rats. Doctors were warning people that they could be looking toward an epidemic of bubonic plague.

  But until the fire was put out, that had to be the primary concern.

  Within an hour, the children were all off on the ferry, except for the baby. Marissa had decided to keep her until her parents could claim her. She was so very little. And she had finally offered Marissa a tenuous smile, and that smile had nearly broken Marissa’s heart. Dr. Spencer had seen to it that she had proper milk for the little girl, whom she had decided to call Francesca.

  There were many births there, in the open air, and at the hospital barracks at the Presidio, she heard. And many parents were naming their children after the circumstances, names as wild as Golden Gate, San Francisco and Presidio.

  Francesca, the feminine of the saint after which the city had been named, did not seem so bad.

  Darrin was with her. Darrin still wouldn’t leave her, and Marissa was glad of it. She didn’t know what the future would bring, but she wanted the boy to be loved and cared for. Surely, Ian would allow her to bring Darrin home.

  If they had a home.

  She was vaguely wondering about the fate of their house when Darrin returned from a trip for milk. “Marissa,” he told her, accustomed at last to using her given name, “the lady from the, er—from the Barbary Coast is here. The one who helped find you. And she was hurt awful bad.”

  “Lilli?” Marissa said, startled.

  Darrin took the baby and showed Marissa the way. She hurried to the tent. One of the newly arrived nurses pointed her toward a cot in the rear, and she hurried toward it.

  Then she froze, for the cot was empty.

  “Oh, my God!” The cry of horror escaped her in a whisper. Lilli was dead.

  Lilli might have been the best friend she had in San Francisco.

  Then someone touched her shoulder, and she turned. It was a gnarled, ugly man, but he had interesting eyes. “You’re Mrs. Tremayne.”

  “Yes. Yes, I was—looking for Lilli.”

  “The doctor is seeing to her, changing her bandage.”

  “Oh! Oh, thank God! She’s going to make it?”

  Even as she spoke, a nurse came in, leading a heavily bandaged Lilli to her bed. Most of her face was swathed. Marissa hurried forward, nodding to the nurse. “Lilli, it’s me, Marissa Tremayne. I’ll help her,” she told the nurse.

  The nurse was busy and glad to hand Lilli over to Marissa. “Marissa!” Lilli murmured softly. She touched her face. “You’re here, and well. I’m glad for you. For you and Ian.”

  “You’re going to be fine, too, Lilli.”

  She sat Lilli down on the cot. Lilli groped for something, and the ugly little man took her hand. “I’m going to live, yes. But I’m going to be horribly scarred.” She laughed softly. “And in my business … oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “You haven’t offended me, Lilli. I just feel that you—that you deserve better!” she said softly.

  And Lilli laughed, squeezing her hand. “I’m going to get better, Marissa. Seems it took a fire and a dreadful burning to find out that Jake here loves me. And he’s been saving every penny I ever paid him. He’s going to marry me, and I’m going to set up regular housekeeping. Of course, we’ll never have respectability. No one will ever call on me. San Franciscans have long memories. But I’m staying. I am a San Franciscan.”

  “Oh, Lilli, I am so very glad!” Marissa said. “And someone will call on you. I will call on you.”

  Very little of Lilli’s mouth showed, but her smile was radiant. “I believe that you will. But I think that you should hurry back now. When I was being bandaged, I heard all kinds of shouting and excitement. I think they quelled the fire on the docks.” She was quiet, then added with exasperation, “Ian will be coming back.”

  “You knew that he—went out?”

  “He came to see me last night and this morning,” Lilli said. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Marissa! He loves you. He’s just the kind of man who doesn’t forget old friends, even when they are scarred and ruined and hideous.”

  “Lilli, you’ll never be hideous,” Marissa told her. She rose and very gently kissed the top of her head. She turned to Jake. “Congratulations!” she told him.

  And then she hurried out.

  People were shouting. Crying out, jumping up and down. A stranger suddenly swung his arms around her. “They beat it! They beat the fire! Seven-fifteen exactly, they say. They beat the fire from the piers around East Street, and beat it back to the area south of the Slot! Where it was born, lady, there it died! The fire is out!”

  Stumbling, she hurried to the tent where she had spent the night.

  And as Lilli had suspected, Ian was back.

  His face was nearly as black as his pants and the boots that he wore, but he was talking to Uncle Theo and doing so animatedly. His teeth and eyes flashed handsomely against all the darkness around him.

  Then he turned and saw her.

  It was over, she thought. It was true. The fire had died, and it was really over. She lost all thoughts of inhibition, and she cried out and raced over to him.

  She saw his brow shoot up and for a moment she was afraid. So afraid that he would not open up his arms to accept her. But he did. She flung herself against him, and she found herself lifted and held, held so very close.

  And then he gently let her slide down against his body.

  “It’s out?” she whispered.

  “Pray God it stays out,” he said.

  She heard a motion behind her and turned to see that Jimmy and Mary were standing behind Theo with Darrin and little Francesca.

  “I think that we should give these two a moment alone—” Mary began.

  “Oh, no, no, no, wait, just wait a little minute,” Ian said. His arms remained around Marissa.

  “I think you’ve all been wondering and waiting. All the time that I was gone … and then nothing seemed to matter while the fire burned. But as long as we’re all gathered here now, we should discuss a few things.”

  Jimmy cleared his throat. “We wer
e guilty, Mr. Tremayne. Just as guilty as Marissa. More so. She’d have never done what she done if she hadn’t loved Mary so much like a sister.”

  “Yes, you are guilty,” Ian agreed flatly. “All of you. And you made me guilty of fraud, taking all that money. So here’s what we’re going to do.”

  Marissa felt a cold chill sweep over her even as he held her. A fear as icy as the fire had been hot. She fought it desperately. Lilli had said that he loved her, and Lilli knew him well. And he had cared, she knew that he had cared. Last night he had insisted on holding her while she slept …

  Last night he had known about the child.

  He had come riding after her the fateful morning of the quake. And he had dug through rock and rubble and wood to get to her. And he held her so securely now.

  He had refused to think of divorcing her. She knew that. But the marriage wouldn’t mean anything anymore, not unless she had his love.

  “I’m going to put back all the money that has been taken out of Mary’s trust fund. I don’t think that people are lining up to prosecute us, but we are all guilty of fraud. If we repay the fund, then I will, at least, feel that we’ve not defrauded the squire, and if anything should happen in the future, we will only be guilty of having borrowed the money.”

  “But, Ian!” Mary gasped. “What will you have? The emporium is burned to the ground, Nob Hill has burned—”

  “I’ve a lot of insurance, and all with very reputable companies.” He smiled. “And haven’t you heard? The world is helping San Francisco. Money is already pouring in from New York and Chicago and Boston and countless other cities. And I’ve been told they’re collecting across the globe. This city will rebuild.

  “And I will rebuild with it. Jimmy, you and Mary should survive very nicely on the salary that I intend to pay you until Mary reaches the legal age to receive her inheritance. Theo, you’re one of the most admirable men I’ve met, and I’m delighted to have you continue on with us. Of course, you’re the one innocent party in this group, aren’t you?”

  “Innocent as a babe,” Theo said smugly. Marissa wanted to kick him.

  “There’s only one stipulation to all of this, of course,” Ian continued.

  “Oh, Ian! You’ve been far more generous than we’d any right to expect,” Mary told him. “We’ll do anything.”

  “You might want to think about it, after the past few days,” he advised her. “Because this is the stipulation. I’m not leaving here. San Francisco is my home. There’s going to be a lot going on when they sit down and try to figure out how to rebuild properly. I want to be a part of that building. You’ve just weathered an earthquake and a fire to rival the worst. Are you sure you want to raise your child here? This is my home—it isn’t yours.”

  Theo spoke up quietly. “It is now, Ian Tremayne. Home is where you build, and where you hope, and where you dream. We’ve nothing left behind us. So here we are, and here we stay.”

  “Indeed,” Mary murmured. “Here we stay.”

  “Then so be it,” Ian said. “I’ve finished with all I’ve got to say to you all about the matter.”

  “Oh, Mary!” Marissa burst free from Ian to hug her friend. Mary hugged her back, but almost immediately, Ian had his hand upon her arm, pulling her back. “I’ve finished with them, my love. I did not finish with you.”

  Startled, and chilled once again, Marissa stared into her husband’s face. She squared her shoulders defensively, meeting his bright blue gaze. It was fathomless, and far from reassuring.

  “You’ll all excuse us?” he said to the others.

  “I’ve got the little one, sir,” Darrin told him.

  Marissa thought he winked at Darrin, but she was being pulled out of the tent. And then Ian had her hand and he was walking toward one of the ponds, far from the area where all the refugees were camped. And then he suddenly swung around and stared at her.

  “And what about you?” he demanded.

  “What—what about me?” she whispered.

  “I’m well aware that you did what you did to help Mary. And Theo. And I know now about your school in England. But I also know that you were seeking a better life. You dreamed of a big house, of an easier life. Well, my love, I may not have a house anymore. So, what about you?”

  She jerked her hand free, furious that he could still think so little of her. “Ian Tremayne, how dare you. I have had all that I can take! I—”

  “Marissa, love, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to soar!” he told her softly. “One of the reasons I love you so deeply is your determination to seek something better.”

  “I married you for money, yes, but I—” She stopped dead still, suddenly certain that she hadn’t heard him right at all. “What?”

  “I said, one of the reasons I love you—”

  “You love … me?”

  He smiled, the slow, lazy, taunting smile that had once so easily seduced her. “Yes, Marissa Ayers Tremayne. I love you. I wanted you from the very beginning. I started to love you because of that haunted quality in your eyes. Because of the mystery, the determination, the spirit. I fell so deeply in love with you that I couldn’t stand the fact that you hadn’t trusted me. Marissa, you little fool! It never mattered to me where you came from. I love what I’ve learned about your past. And I’m glad that you can’t bear to see lost children without taking them under your wing. I’m glad that you can’t be licked by catastrophe or fire. You are everything I could have ever wanted.”

  “Oh, Ian!” she whispered, staring at him, unable to believe his words, or the tenderness within him. But there was truth, wonderful truth in his eyes. And as he smiled at her, blackened and haggard, she still thought she had never seen a more striking man. There was strength in his tired form, in the set of his shoulders, in the handsome contours of his face, strength, courage, determination and love.

  She threw her arms around his neck, rising on tiptoe to kiss him.

  “Well?” he demanded. Even now, she thought wryly, disheveled and worn as he was, he carried that arrogance about him.

  “Well what?” she whispered.

  “You didn’t answer me. What about you?”

  “Ian Tremayne, I love you. I never deserved you, because I did lie and cheat to get you. And I did hate you. I hated you because you saw so many things in me too easily. But I wanted you, too. And then I saw how good you were to Mary and Jimmy, how good you were to all of us. And when I came here at first I was so very jealous, and so I was so furious! And I wanted to hate you. I wanted so much to hate you so that I wouldn’t care about Grace and Lilli—”

  “There wasn’t anyone once I had met you,” he told her.

  She smiled. “Thank you for that. But there was. Diana.”

  “I’ll always love her a little in my heart. But you even allowed me to let her go, Marissa. Can you understand?”

  Her eyes glimmered with the threat of tears, and Marissa prayed that it was all right to be so happy when a great city lay in ruins beyond them. But God would understand, she thought.

  She intended to help rebuild that city.

  “Ian, I love you! So much!” Then she added, “Oh! Ian, I saw Lilli, and—”

  “And she’s going to marry Jake and live happily ever after,” he told her.

  “Yes, and I’m so glad.”

  “You don’t mind her so much anymore?”

  “She probably saved my life. No, I don’t mind Lilli anymore. I promised her that I’d call on her, and I will.”

  Ian smiled. “Yes, I think that you will.”

  “But Grace—”

  “Grace is taking her broken ankle and leaving the city,” Ian said flatly.

  Marissa’s eyes widened. He knew what Grace had done. “Ian, how—”

  “Darrin told me that Grace had arranged to see that you disappeared. I spoke to her this morning, briefly. She’s not interested in staying. Not really. And after I had a talk with her … well, she can inflict herself upon Chicago or New York for a while.”
r />   Marissa laughed. “Oh, Ian, I do love you so very much!” she told him, her arms wrapped around his neck. He held her close against him.

  “So you’ll stay.”

  “I’m your wife, Ian. Of course, I’ll stay. Like Theo said, it’s my home now, too. It’s where I can hope and dream and build. It’s where I can be with you. Oh, Ian! It’s the first real home I’ve ever had. Oh! There’s just one thing. It’s Darrin. Could we—”

  He started to laugh, interrupting her. “I knew, my love, that we weren’t going home without Darrin. And I’m beginning to imagine that we might also be going home with an infant we’re calling Francesca.”

  “It’s just that she’s so very little, Ian. We’ll keep her just until her parents can come for her.”

  “And then we’ll have our own very soon,” he murmured, stroking her cheek.

  “Oh, Ian, do you mind?”

  “I’m delighted, Marissa. So very delighted. A year ago, my love, I was a bitter and angry man, alone. And now I am surrounded by love and loyalty. And it is all because of you.”

  His lips touched hers at last. With warmth, with tenderness, with a fervor that defied the very world. His kiss held passion; it held promise; it held all the desire that she could ever imagine. And it held love.

  And it went on and on.

  “Mr. Tremayne! Mrs. Tremayne!”

  Dimly, she became aware that someone was calling to them in a voice that was becoming more and more frustrated. It was Bobby.

  Marissa broke free from Ian’s kiss and turned quickly.

  Bobby was mounted upon Ian’s bay. His uniform was torn, and he had smudges of soot on his face.

  But he was smiling.

  “Your house, sir, it’s standing! More than half the hill is burned clear to the ground or gutted, but your house is standing.”

  “I don’t believe it!” Ian gasped.

  Bobby leaped down from the bay’s back. “Go on, sir, and take a look. There’s not much else to do here, help is pouring in from all over. If you want—”

  “If I want!” Ian exclaimed. He swept Marissa into his arms and sat her upon the bay’s back. Then he leaped up behind her.

  They moved slowly as they left Golden Gate Park. But then Ian gave the horse free rein, and they moved swiftly through the burned streets, cantering all the way to the hill, then up the length of it.