“Lawrence is a good man. He hasn’t had the benefit of a great mentor, like mine.” Robert managed a grim nod. “If you’d rather, I could ask Ruby to assist and wait to bring in Dr. Lawrence until we confirm the results.”
Ruby. Gerald closed his eyes once more, the glare from the overhead bulb unbearable. “No. She must know nothing of this.”
“I agree—for now. But if it’s positive, she deserves to know the truth.”
A throbbing pain took up residence behind Gerald’s temples. If it’s true, I’ll buy her passage on the next ferry. I won’t let her face another loss.
34
Gerald rose before first light, the weight of the evening’s news pulling at his frame. He sat on the edge of the bed, head throbbing. He ran a hand along his throat, the glands even more swollen today. He coughed, the scratching deep in his throat, like he’d swallowed shards of glass. A quick gulp of water from the glass resting on the bedside table did little to soothe. He lowered his head into his hands, a shiver racing through his body. Compose yourself. Do you want everyone to see you like this?
He pulled on some clothes and headed for the door. Perhaps he could get out of the house before anyone awakened. As he neared the door, a knee buckled and he caught himself on the edge of the dresser. A quiver raced through his stomach. This wasn’t skin cancer—he was coming down with something. He glanced down at his hand, the skin red and puffy. An infection. It was the only logical explanation. The swollen glands, the sore throat, the shakes—a simple infection, not cancer. In spite of the discomfort, his heart lifted.
Gerald pushed his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. He’d like nothing better than to crawl back into bed and give in to the malaise, but he needed to put Robert’s mind at ease. He’d let Robert wield the scalpel and remove as much tissue as he desired—whatever it took to put this nonsense to rest. He stepped out into the hall and glanced toward Ruby’s bedroom door. The future held great promise, and he was determined not to let it slip away.
* * *
Brilliant sunshine poured over the garden as Ruby gazed out the kitchen window. The blue sky and sunshine lifted her weariness. How Gerald had managed to rise and be gone before she awoke, she didn’t understand. She turned back to the table where Robert sat eating his morning meal. “Have you thought about what I said?”
Robert took the fork from his mouth and swallowed. “This isn’t your concern.”
Ruby took the seat next to him. “You and Abby are my concern. Your wedding is next month—I don’t want see a wedge driven between the two of you.”
Her brother reached for the platter of sausages, rolling two onto his plate.
Otto sat up on his hind legs, tail thumping the kitchen floor.
Robert grunted, breaking off a small chunk of meat for the dog. “You don’t understand, Ruby. The feelings against the Chinese run deep in this community. If Abby is seen consorting with—”
“Consorting?” Ruby choked on the word. “Kum Yong is Abby’s friend. You make it sound sordid. Father welcomed patients of all races. He’d be ashamed to hear you speak so.”
He jabbed the sausage with a fork. “She’s not a patient. I’ve treated patients in Chinatown. Those girls that end up in the mission houses are—they’re . . .”
Ruby hitched an eyebrow. “Yes?”
He grunted. “Not the type of women I want my wife to befriend.”
Ruby pushed away from the table and mustered her sternest sisterly glare. “You’d rather she hobnobbed with San Francisco socialites? Women who care about nothing but the length of the feathers on their Parisian hats?” She pushed to her feet and folded her arms. “I haven’t met Kum Yong, but if Abby’s willing to marry my numbskull brother, I’d say she’s capable of judging character. And if you push this too far, she may change her mind. I didn’t think you were the type of man who’d demand to choose a lady’s friends.”
Robert lowered his eyes. “Fine. I don’t care to argue about this. I didn’t forbid her to see the woman, I only tried to dissuade her. I want to protect her. There is a dark side to this city. She experienced enough of it in the days after the earthquake, she doesn’t need to expose herself further.” He ran a hand over his eyes. “Of course, she may go see her friend. Just do me a favor and go along, would you? I need to meet Gerald at the hospital, or I’d go myself.”
With a quick sweep of her hands, Ruby began clearing the table. “I thought Gerald was staying home today.” She swallowed her disappointment. She’d hoped to have a frank conversation about last night and ensure it never happened again.
Her brother averted his gaze. “Something came up. He left early this morning. I needed him to—to see a new patient.”
Ruby frowned, placing the plates in the sink. “Is that what you discussed last night?” She froze, her hands in the soapy water.
Robert locked his gaze on her. “Last night?”
She sucked in her lower lip, clenching it between her teeth. Stupid girl. “I heard you come in. I was up late.”
“Did you hear anything else?” Robert’s face took on a strange hue.
“No. I assumed you were consulting about a patient.” She rinsed the plate and reached for the towel. “Would you like me to come in and assist?”
His chair screeched as he pushed back from the table and stood. “No. You attend to Abby.” Robert brushed loose crumbs from his shirt. “We’re evaluating this patient to see if . . . if he needs further treatment.”
Ruby shrugged. It had been four days since she’d been in the cancer ward, spending most of her time at the refugee camp with the diphtheria victims. Perhaps she would stop by after she and Abby finished with their outing. She missed seeing the patients. “As you wish.”
Robert cocked a brow. “I wish you and Abby were going elsewhere today.”
Ruby smiled, flicking the towel in his direction. “Your future wife has wishes of her own.”
* * *
Gerald stared through the brass microscope, squinting with first one eye and then the other. He pulled up a tall chair, his back aching from leaning over the table. He turned the knobs on the instrument, tightening the focus on the stained cells. The light glowed through the glass slide.
“Not liking what you see?”
Gerald started as Robert’s voice interrupted his concentration. He glanced up, blinking to clear his gaze of the one-eyed blurriness caused by the microscope.
Robert crossed to the table, the breeze from the open door fluttering the corners of the papers strewn across the desk and table. Dark circles dragged at his lower lids.
“I’m not certain what I’m seeing.”
Robert shrugged one shoulder. “Nor am I. But you must concur it looks suspicious.”
Gerald peered through the lens. The clusters of odd-looking cells clumped in strange configurations, as if drawn by a clumsy child. “Yes. Something’s not right. Could it be sample contamination?”
“That’s what I’d like to rule out.”
Gerald lifted his head from the scope. “I’d prefer it to be the case, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.”
Gerald dropped back onto the stool, exhaustion pulling at his frame. If he told Robert about the fever, his partner would demand to postpone the procedure. I can’t wait another day.
His friend shuffled his feet. “Gerald, I know you wanted to keep this private.”
The air turned cold. “You didn’t.” Not Ruby, please.
“Dr. Lawrence is waiting in the hall. I asked if he’d assist me—I didn’t tell him you were the patient.”
The tension in Gerald’s back eased. “I imagine he’ll figure it out pretty quickly when you start cutting on me.” He returned the microscope to its wooden crate, tucking his slides into a separate box. The label curled slightly until he ran a fingertip across it. Patient #24. His stomach curdled. He followed Robert out to the hall.
Lawrence leaned against the wall, thumbing through a stack of files. “I see I’m worki
ng with both of you today. I’ve been reading up on your latest results. Impressive.”
“I’ve put everything we need in room thirty-two.” Robert gestured to the stairwell.
“That’s pretty out-of-the-way. Why so clandestine?” Lawrence jammed the files under his arm. “The surgical amphitheater is unscheduled. I could put your name on it. The students would benefit from seeing the famous Drs. Larkspur and King in action.”
Gerald ran his palm down his white coat. Just what he needed—his situation on display in front of the entire medical school. “Our patient prefers anonymity during a sensitive procedure.”
Lawrence fell in beside him as they ascended the stairwell. “Who is this fellow? Politician? Businessman?” His brows lifted. “There’s been rumor of the governor being ill.”
Gerald pushed through the doorway of the quiet examination room. The air smelled sterile and cold, like a tomb. He turned and faced Lawrence. “It’s not the governor.”
Robert shut the door behind them without saying a word.
Dr. Lawrence glanced around. “Where is the mystery patient?”
Gerald shrugged off his coat. “You’re looking at him.”
“You?” The younger man frowned. “Is this about what Dr. Dawson said at the meeting? You said his concerns were unfounded.”
Robert laid the tools out on the table. “We should use ether this time, Gerald.”
“No. Just the local anesthesia. I don’t want to be knocked out and have Dawson walk in.”
Lawrence backed up against the door. “You can’t be serious. Are you saying you’ve come down with the very disease you’re trying to cure? Does Dr. Dawson know?”
“We don’t know anything yet.” Gerald bumped the small table, sending a pair of forceps sliding across its surface. “And you’ll not say a word to him. He’s already determined to run us out of this hospital. I will not add fuel to his arguments.”
Lawrence jammed fingers through his hair. “I knew these X-rays were dangerous. After what I read—”
“Let’s just get started. Shall we?” Gerald rolled up his sleeve. “I want to get this over with. I have patients to see at Golden Gate Park.”
Robert flattened his lips. “I told you, we need a deeper sample this time. You won’t be in any condition—”
“Let me be the judge of that.” Gerald pulled the stool up to the table and laid his arm flat. “Now are you going to handle the injection, or shall I?”
Dr. Lawrence glanced back and forth between the two men. “Dr. Larkspur, if cancer is growing in that hand, you realize what will have to be done.”
Robert grasped the hypodermic needle and jabbed it into a vial of Novocaine. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m sure my partner would prefer to keep his hand—at least until we can confirm the diagnosis.”
“Or deny it.” Gerald wriggled his fingers, glancing down at the digits. How would he live without them? Perform surgery? Hold Ruby’s hand? A deep ache settled in his stomach. He brushed away the unsettling thoughts. He’d counsel a patient to sacrifice the appendage in order to preserve his life. The idea didn’t settle well. What would be next? The whole arm? Hack him into pieces in a vain attempt to prevent the inevitable? Could X-rays cure the disease they created?
He closed his eyes for a long moment, the image of Ruby’s face floating in his imagination. She’d already buried one man, she’d never choose to endure the pain again.
A hand braced his arm as the needle pressed into his flesh. Gerald gritted his teeth. This test has to be negative, Lord. Because if it isn’t, I’ll put her on the ferry, myself.
* * *
Ruby followed Abby up the marble stairs leading to the courthouse, dodging workmen as they hauled loads of materials and tools up and down the steps. She lifted the hem of her dress, thankful she’d chosen to leave the hobble skirt at home.
Abby grasped Ruby’s arm, her face pale. “I wonder if she’s as eager to see me as I am to see her?”
Ruby patted her friend’s hand. “She wouldn’t have invited you if she felt otherwise.”
A man standing nearby pulled open the tall door for them, nodding to the women with a smile and a tip of his hat. “Ladies.”
Ruby ushered a trembling Abby through the doorway and into the massive hall beyond. Sounds of voices and footsteps echoed around the cavernous hall. She stiffened her back, determined to be strong for her friend’s sake. Though Abby dragged her feet, Ruby pressed forward, centering on a help desk in the front of the hall.
A hulking man sat at the tiny desk, crouched on a chair much too small for his bulky frame. “Can I help you, Miss?”
Ruby lifted her chin. “We’re looking for the Occidental Mission case. We were told there would be a hearing on it today.”
The man flipped through a series of papers, running a meaty thumb along the lines of print. “Occidental . . . Miss Cameron, ain’t it?”
Abby’s head bobbed. “Do you know her?”
A grin sprouted just above the man’s whiskery chin. “Everyone here knows Miss Cameron. She’s the angry angel of Chinatown. Every time she walks in here with one of those little gals, sparks fly.” He leaned across the desk, bracing himself on his arms. “The judges are a-feared of her. And rightly so. Those gray eyes can see right through to the darkness of a man’s soul—or so the district attorney told me. Who else would dare take on those Tongs?”
Ruby glanced at her friend. “This is the missionary of whom you spoke?”
Abby nodded. “I met her when she brought one of the girls to the hospital, even though they’re not supposed to admit Chinese. She convinced Robert to break the rules.”
“She must be persuasive. My brother can be a stubborn mule at times.”
The security guard pointed them in the direction of the courtroom, and the women hurried through the crowded hall to the open door.
The long courtroom overflowed with milling spectators, including a handful of Chinese. Up near the front of the room, an elegant silver-haired woman conversed with a man in a black suit. She gestured at the paper in the man’s hand with a pointing finger. Two Chinese women stood by her side, one sheltering the other with a protective arm.
Abby lit up. “There’s Kum Yong.” She edged into the room, careful not to disturb any of the people waiting near the doorway.
Ruby followed, studying the room. The only open seats were in the third row, near the far aisle. Abby grasped her hand and tugged her toward the openings.
As they approached the front, Miss Cameron glanced up from her discussion and a flicker of emotion crossed her face. She tapped one of the women on the arm and gestured toward Abby.
A broad smile erupted on the young woman’s face, her sleek dark hair gleaming in the light from the large windows. She guided her companion to a stool behind the long table. With a quick word to Miss Cameron, Abby’s friend hurried toward them on slippered feet. “You came!”
Abby spread her arms, and the woman fell into them.
The interaction created a stir in the crowd, people whispering and pointing fingers. Ruby straightened her posture, thankful Abby and her friend seemed too focused on their reunion to care about the rude stares.
Abby grasped Ruby’s hand, pulling her close to her side. “Ruby, this is my dear friend, Kum Yong—the one I’ve been telling you about.” Her eyes shone. “Kum Yong, this is Robert’s sister, Mrs. Ruby Marshall.”
Ruby pressed a smile to her face, the best she could do with so many people watching. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Yong. Abby has told me about your experiences after the earthquake.”
The young woman bobbed her head. “I am honored, Mrs. Marshall. Please, call me Kum Yong. Our names in Chinese are different than yours.”
“Certainly.” Warmth rushed to Ruby’s face. Had she made a mistake already? Perhaps she should have asked Abby for hints on Chinese culture. “I’m sorry. And you must call me Ruby.”
A smile played around her lips. “A beautiful name.” S
he turned back to Abby. “I am so glad you came. I have enjoyed reading your letters. My class begs me to read them my letters from Earthquake Abby, too.”
Abby’s eyes widened. “Is that what they call me?”
Kum Yong giggled, covering her mouth with a hand. “The little ones. They remember you from earthquake day. They like me to tell them the story of how we rushed through the flames with Miss Cameron to save the documents from the Mission house while they slept.”
Abby cocked her head with a smile. “It sounds even more exciting than I remember.”
Her eyes glinted. “The girls embellish a little.”
“Kum Yong,” Miss Cameron gestured from the front. “It’s time.” She smiled and waved to Abby.
Kum Yong grasped Abby’s hand. “You’ll stay, won’t you? Miss Cameron will want to greet you.”
Abby nodded. “Of course.”
Ruby and Abby took seats in the fourth row between two elderly women. The woman next to Ruby smelled of lemons, her round face crisscrossed with laugh lines. She smiled at Ruby and leaned toward her. “I’m so excited to see Miss Cameron at work. She spoke at my church back before the earthquake. Brought some of the sweet little children to sing for us. So inspiring.”
Ruby nodded and leaned back against the hard bench, enamored by the energy in the courtroom.
The trial rushed by in less than thirty minutes. Miss Cameron petitioned for custody of the young woman, a fourteen-year-old girl named Ah Chin. The judge questioned Ah Chin, with Kum Yong translating. In halting words Ah Chin described the past year of brothel life in heartbreaking detail.
Ruby dug in her purse for a handkerchief as tears stung her eyes. No child should be exposed to the depravity Ah Chin had witnessed, and what the poor girl had endured at the hands of her captors broke Ruby’s heart. How could this be happening, right here in San Francisco? Ruby closed her eyes, fighting the urge to flee the room. Abby’s fidgeting jostled her back to attention.
Ruby darted a glance at Abby, noting her friend’s damp face. She pulled an extra handkerchief from her bag and pressed it into Abby’s hand. “Did you know?” She mouthed the words.
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