Through the Shadows

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Through the Shadows Page 12

by Barnett, Karen;


  Ruby’s gaze flickered. She reached for her tea, the cup rattling against the saucer. “Mae is fine. Gerald? It’s day to day, week to week. We knew the risks when we wed. God’s been good to us. We’ve had more time than I anticipated.” She brought the cup to her lips, but didn’t drink. “So far, there’s been no sign of the cancer returning, but his heart was badly damaged by the diphtheria. He has to be careful.”

  How could her sister be so nonchalant about life and death? Elizabeth wrapped her fingers around the warm drink, willing the heat to penetrate her chilled skin. “I’m surprised you can speak of God’s plans after all you’ve endured.” Her voice dropped low, rattling in her chest. The image of Tobias sprang to her mind as though summoned. With him, she’d thought nothing of God’s plans, only her own.

  Ruby finally took a sip and lowered the tea back to the table. “It’s because of what I’ve endured, Elizabeth. I gave up my own will long ago.”

  Leaning forward, Elizabeth braced herself against the table. “And what about babies for you? Have you given up on those dreams, too?”

  A rueful smile graced her sister’s face. “Gerald has been too ill. After the diphtheria, the cancer, the surgery . . .” She shook her head. “Robert thinks the X-ray research may have played a part as well—for them both. In all honesty, I’m just thankful Gerald’s alive. To ask for more seems ungrateful.”

  Abby reappeared in the doorway. “You don’t believe that, do you, Ruby? Ungrateful?”

  Elizabeth jerked up, turning to face her sister-in-law.

  Ruby blew out a long breath. “I only mean, I choose to focus on what God has given me, rather than what He hasn’t.”

  “Or what He’s taken away.” Abby brushed away a tear. “I suppose you’re wise to think in those terms. But doesn’t the Bible say something about God being able to do more? ‘Abundantly—above all that we ask or think.’ ”

  Elizabeth ran a hand down her sleeve, smoothing it over her sore wrist. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier, Abby. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  The young woman returned to her seat. “It wasn’t you, Elizabeth. I haven’t been myself today.” She folded her apron in her lap. “It’s incomprehensible to me that God wouldn’t want Robert and me to have a child. Or Ruby and Gerald, for that matter.” She raised her chin. “And I choose to pray boldly. To approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, if you will.”

  Ruby lifted her gaze. “And if He says no?”

  “He’s denied me before. I’ll accept it . . . in time.” The corner of Abby’s mouth lifted, a dimple deepening in her cheek. “But not yet.” She turned to Elizabeth. “Will you pray, too?”

  Elizabeth’s palms dampened, and she pressed them against her skirt. She’d been asked to pray twice in one day. Would He even hear a petition from one such as herself? “Of course. I’ll try.”

  “Thank you.” Abby folded her hands and laid them on the tablecloth. “And I’m blessed to have such wonderful sisters-in-law. Cecelia would be pleased. Thank you for reminding me how fortunate I am.”

  “You’re a King girl now.” Elizabeth laughed, retrieving a cookie from the plate. “We won’t let you forget.”

  ***

  Charles ran a finger under his stiff collar, using the opposite hand to press Spencer’s telephone receiver against his ear. His knee bounced under the desk, his heel pounding out a jittery rhythm on the floor. Any moment, the surly attorney could walk through the door. Unfortunately, it was either this office or the main clerk’s desk, and this was one conversation he didn’t want overheard.

  A familiar voice sounded in his ear. “Presbyterian Mission, Miss Cameron speaking.”

  His shoulder muscles loosened a hair. “Miss Cameron, it’s Charles McKinley. I’ve spoken with the judge, and under the circumstances, he’s willing to grant you temporary custody until the appeal can be heard.”

  “Bless you, Mr. McKinley. You’re an answer to prayer. Will you be filing the appeal directly?”

  “I do have some bad news on that front. I’m afraid I won’t be able to represent you, after all.”

  The line went silent for a long moment. Charles shifted in his seat. “I apologize, but I misjudged my work requirements at the firm. I won’t have the time necessary to adequately advise you.”

  “I understand.” Miss Cameron’s voice softened until Charles had to press the receiver hard against his ear to make out the words. “I’m disappointed, of course. I thought you had a good understanding of the challenges we face.”

  A hole opened in Charles’s chest. “Perhaps in the future—after I’ve advanced in my career—I can be of more assistance.” How many times would he be forced to choose between his heart and his career? After finishing the conversation, Charles laid down the receiver and flopped back in Spencer’s chair. Not only did this opportunity slip away, so did any hope of spending more time with Elizabeth King.

  Gazing out at the busy office, he shook his head. Whom could he recommend to take his place at the Mission? The junior attorneys were too busy scrabbling their way up the mountain, and the senior attorneys too arrogant to commit to unpaid hours. Who bothered to defend Chinese prostitutes? Only fools like me.

  “Charles?” His uncle’s faraway voice carried into the office.

  Charles leapt to his feet, desperate not to be found in Spencer’s space. He stepped through the door in time to intercept his uncle.

  “There you are.” Uncle Silas shrugged on his suit jacket. “I’m going out. I need you to run an errand.”

  Spencer’s lackey and Uncle Silas’s errand boy? This was sizing up to be a red-letter day. “What can I do for you, sir?” Charles followed his uncle back into the office as the man retrieved a stack of papers from his desk and shoved them into a folder.

  “Take these—they’re in regards to the King family. I received another call from the oldest son. Deliver the documents to his home, and answer any questions he might have. Perhaps if we throw the dog a bone, he’ll leave me alone for a few weeks.” Uncle Silas wiped a silk handkerchief across his nose before jamming it into his coat pocket. “The address is inside.”

  “Yes, sir.” A surge of energy pulsed through Charles’s system. “Are there new developments on the case?”

  His uncle snorted. “There is no case. The man invested in property. The property’s gone. Case closed.”

  Charles clutched the file to his chest. “But Mr. Spencer brokered a deal yesterday with the insurance adjustors. Surely there is some relief money for the families.”

  Uncle Silas’s brows drew down into a pinched line. “Families? We’re not about families, here, Charles. That money is earmarked for our big accounts. The Kings are nobodies. We wouldn’t even be handing their finances if William King hadn’t been a personal friend.”

  “If he were a personal friend, I’d think his kin might be the first to benefit, instead of waiting for scraps leftover by the heavy purses of Market Street.”

  Uncle Silas’s eyes narrowed. He lifted a knobby finger. “You’re overstepping. Don’t question me again or you’ll find yourself back wrestling hay bales.”

  Charles shut his mouth, his fingers tightening on the manila folder. He tried to muster an apology, but his jaw refused to unclench. He only managed a curt nod as his uncle strode out of the office. Leaning against the door frame, Charles closed his eyes for a moment. What was I thinking coming here? I’ll never help anyone.

  ***

  Elizabeth took the rose between her fingers and bent to sniff the petals, leftover droplets of rainwater dampening her gloves. “Mmm. What do you call this one?”

  “Morning Tea.” Abby took a pair of shears from her apron pocket and clipped a few spent blossoms. “One of my favorites.”

  “I can see why. It’s lovely.”

  “My parents have a massive bush climbing up an arbor by the barn. My baby brother loves to play under it.” Abby gazed out over the flowered shrubs, as if she could see the flowers in her memory.


  “Where do they live?”

  “On a fruit orchard near San Jose. They raise peaches and pears, mostly. Some cherries and apples, too.” She dropped the blooms into a canvas bag at her feet.

  “It sounds like you miss them.”

  Abby’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Does it show? I know Robert’s work is here, in San Francisco, but I miss my family. And my trees.”

  “They must need doctors in San Jose, also.”

  “Not in research. He’s overseeing the X-ray project since Gerald accepted the teaching position at Cooper Medical College.”

  Elizabeth’s hands stilled. “I thought they’d given up the research. Weren’t they suspicious the X-rays caused Gerald’s . . .” She paused, her throat closing.

  Abby cut some fresh flowers, laying them on a piece of newspaper. “You can say the word—cancer. And yes, they believe so. But Robert is putting in safeguards so no one else will suffer the same fate.”

  “And he worries for my safety.” Elizabeth shook off the dark cloud growing in her mind. “Have you been back to see your family?”

  “Not in a while.”

  Elizabeth strolled along the row, admiring each rose in turn. “Perhaps you should. Maybe it would take your mind off . . . other things.”

  “We’re busy getting settled in our new house. It might be difficult to get away just now.” She brightened. “You should come visit. It’s out in the Sunset District, near the ocean.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Sounds lovely. Maybe on my next day off.”

  Ruby came down the steps to join them, the sunlight catching her red hair. “I checked on Mae. She’s not sleeping, she’s knitting. I think she just wanted to give us some time to visit.”

  Abby smiled. “We’re cutting some roses for the table. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Why on earth would I mind?” Ruby lifted her hands. “You work on them more than I do. Every time I try my hand at gardening, something dies. People are so much more sensible than plants. I’ll stay with nursing, thank you.”

  Abby tucked another bloom into the bouquet. “And sewing. Don’t forget that.”

  Elizabeth brightened. “I was going to speak to you about that, Ruby. I thought you might like to come to the Mission and help some of the girls with their projects. You’re far more talented than me when it comes to dressmaking. They’ve got some grand ideas of things they want to construct, but some of it might be a bit much for beginners.”

  “I’d love to. I’m not at the hospital as much these days, since Gerald’s been lecturing.” Ruby folded her hands in front of her skirt. “And Mae does so much in the kitchen—it leaves me with few responsibilities, really. I prefer being busy.”

  Abby gathered up the basket. “Perhaps I can come, too. I’m not a seamstress, but I’d love to visit with Kum Yong. It’s so nice having them back in the city.”

  Elizabeth clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! Let me check with Donaldina, and we’ll set a date.”

  Ruby took Elizabeth’s arm. “Having you in the city is going to be delightful, little sister. Let’s plan lots of outings together for the three of us. Robert and Gerald spend so much time together, I think we need to form our own girl’s club. What do you think?”

  Abby smiled. “I love it. Where shall we go first? Golden Gate Park?”

  “How about Chinatown?” Elizabeth plucked one of the blooms from Abby’s basket and twirled it between her fingers. “I went there with Kum Yong and Donaldina this morning. Some of the shops had beautiful displays—silk, jade, fans. We could decorate your new home.”

  Abby rubbed the back of her neck. “Perhaps. I’ve only been to Chinatown once or twice.” She exchanged a glance with Ruby. “Robert’s probably made his concerns clear to you.”

  Butterfly wings tickled in Elizabeth’s stomach. “And how do you feel about it?”

  Her sister-in-law frowned. “Kum Yong is a dear friend. We met during the disaster, and she and Donaldina offered me shelter the first night. I would have slept on the street otherwise.”

  “What’s Robert’s problem with the Chinese, anyway?”

  She lowered her eyes. “I think you should ask him.”

  An icy tendril coiled around Elizabeth’s heart. Her brother wouldn’t have gotten involved in any of Chinatown’s vices, would he? And yet, she’d never have expected herself to fall so easily into sin. Just because she’d idolized her brother, it didn’t make him immune to life’s temptations.

  Ruby’s pale eyes gleamed. “I know. We can visit the Sutro Baths. Indoor swimming pools, can you imagine?”

  “We should bring Robert and Gerald for that.” Abby cocked a brow. “Your brother told me he doesn’t know how to swim, so I’ve been threatening to take him to the farm and throw him in the pond.”

  “That I’d like to see.” Elizabeth stifled a giggle.

  Ruby placed an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “If we invite the men, we’ll need to bring someone along to keep Elizabeth company. Who was this handsome attorney you spoke of with such affection?”

  Elizabeth pushed her sister’s arm away. “Don’t get any silly ideas.” The last thing she needed was to be seen in a bathing costume by a man like Charles McKinley.

  12

  Charles rang the bell a second time. He could hear a dog barking inside, but no one came to answer the door. The sound of women’s laughter carried out the slim gap between the tall Victorian homes. Could they be in the yard?

  He glanced down at the file folders. He’d rather not schedule a return visit, considering it might infringe on his ability to observe in court. Clutching the briefcase to his chest, he poked his head around the corner, between the houses. “Hello? Can you hear me back there?”

  More laughter. And one of the voices sounded like Elizabeth’s.

  Charles set his jaw and strode down the narrow path. Growing up in ranch country, the idea of having a neighbor less than a few feet away gave him claustrophobia. Hopefully, the Kings didn’t have another dog, or he might risk receiving a hole in the seat of his new pants. He called out again, preferring not to startle the family.

  The voices went silent as he approached the rear yard.

  A woman’s face peered around the corner. Her red hair curled under a flowered hat. “Can I assist you?”

  “I—I rang the bell.” Charles paused, the walls suddenly feeling even closer. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m here to see Dr. Robert King.”

  Her head tilted. “Is it a medical emergency?”

  He stopped in his tracks. “No. I’m an attorney. We have business to discuss. Are you Mrs. King?”

  One corner of the woman’s mouth lifted. “No, I’m Mrs. Larkspur, his sister.” She opened the low gate. “Come on through. We’re in the garden.”

  Charles exhaled the breath he’d been holding. He followed her out into a bright oasis of flowers. “This is beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Mrs. Larkspur gestured to another woman approaching from the center of the rose garden. “My sister-in-law, Mrs. Abby King, is mostly responsible.”

  Charles nodded to the women. “It’s an honor meeting you both. My name is—”

  “Let me guess—” A smile spread across Mrs. Larkspur’s face. “Mr. Charles McKinley?” She dragged out his first name with a lilt to her voice.

  “Um, yes, in fact.”

  Elizabeth popped out from an arbor in the corner of the yard. “Charles?” She hurried over. “Whatever are you doing here? Is there a problem at the Mission?”

  “I—uh—no. I’m here to see your brother.”

  Elizabeth stopped in front of him, her brow furrowing. “But this isn’t Robert’s house.”

  Charles’s skin crawled. Elizabeth must think he was following her. “This is the address we have on file.”

  Mrs. Larkspur laughed. “Robert and Abby lived here until just a few weeks ago.” She turned to face Charles. “I’m afraid Robert’s at the hospital. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting you. I’m
sure he wouldn’t have forgotten.”

  “My apologies. I should have telephoned first.”

  “Nonsense.” Mrs. Larkspur took a basket of flowers from Mrs. King. “Come join us. Charles, was it?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, yes, it’s Charles. No, I don’t wish to interrupt you.” Charles’s collar suddenly felt two sizes too tight. He glanced at Elizabeth, the dimple in her left cheek scattering his thoughts like so many leaves in the wind.

  Dr. King’s wife lifted her brows, brown eyes sparkling in the sunshine. “Elizabeth was telling us about you earlier. I’m sure my husband will be pleased to hear someone’s taken an interest in his father’s estate.” She pulled off her gardening gloves. “He and Gerald should be returning soon. Why don’t you and Elizabeth visit out here in the arbor while you wait?” She gestured to an iron bench half hidden by curling grape vines. “Ruby and I should get supper started.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “I intended to help you.”

  Mrs. Larkspur linked arms with Mrs. King. “Stay and keep our guest company. I’m sure Robert won’t want to miss him.”

  Charles pulled the case close to his chest. Spend time in a lovely garden with an equally lovely partner or return to the office? The choice seemed simple. “If Miss King doesn’t mind keeping me company, I would be delighted to stay.”

  ***

  Elizabeth gritted her teeth as she led the way to the bench in Ruby’s back yard. I make one comment about a man to my sister, and the next thing you know I’m entertaining him in a romantic setting.

  “I had no idea you would be here.” Charles’s voice trailed behind her as she entered the grape arbor. “I thought you would be teaching today.”

  “Trying to leave me out of the meeting?” She dropped into the seat, the iron bench cold against her backside.

  “Of course not. I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m only teasing.” She interrupted him, amused by the blush creeping across his face. “I encouraged you to meet with Robert, remember?”

 

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