Through the Shadows

by Barnett, Karen;

  Elizabeth froze as the guard slid a knife between her wrist and the cords, sawing them loose. Her shoulders drew forward as her hands fell free. “Thank you.” She rubbed her wrists. “Thank you so much.”

  A noise from upstairs caught their attention. The guard’s eyes widened. “They’re coming back. Quick—” He gestured to the corner.

  She scooted back against the wall as he stepped in front of her, legs splayed. Elizabeth’s heart hammered as footsteps sounded down the hall—more than just the two men this time. Angry shouts rang through the small space. No longer caring about appearances, she dropped to a crouch and covered her head.

  When firm hands gripped her arms, Elizabeth screamed.

  “Elizabeth, it’s me.” Fingers squeezed against her skin.

  She jerked her head upward, the sight of Charles’s face bringing a rush of air to her lungs. Officer Kelley and George stood behind him.

  His face swam in front of her eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “Y-yes.” Her voice quavered, as if her body just now realized she should be frightened. “Yes, I’m fine. I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Where else would I be?” Charles pulled her into a crushing embrace. “Elizabeth, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “Forgive you?” A tremor raced through her body, his words not making sense.

  Robert appeared over Charles’s shoulders, his brown eyes wide. “Elizabeth, I’ve never been so glad to see you. Are you hurt?”

  “No. They didn’t harm me.” She lifted her wrists, seeing the red welts for the first time. She jerked around, searching for her guard. “Officer Kelley—be good to him. He’s not one of the highbinders.”

  The policeman stepped back, examining the round-shouldered man. “Are you certain, Miss?”

  The scholar gave Elizabeth a tight-lipped smile, clutching the Bible to his chest. “It’s all right. I will answer for my sins, but I’d like to hear more about this God of yours.” He dipped his head.

  “We will find a way to visit you.” She blinked back tears.

  Officer Kelley led him down the hall toward the stairway.

  Charles squeezed Elizabeth’s shoulders. “Can you walk?”

  “I think so.”

  “Then let’s get you home. Donaldina is worried sick.”

  She leaned on his arm, her legs still trying to unfold from her position on the icy floor. “Why are you dressed like this?”

  “I’m supposed to be dining with the mayor.” He slipped a hand behind her waist. “But I’d rather be here with you.”

  32

  Elizabeth rubbed her arms to banish the shivers plaguing her since last night. The Mission’s front hall was still decorated with festive banners. How I will miss this place. Lifting her chin, she strode into the dining room, the smell of coffee lingering in the morning air.

  The board sat around one of the long tables—four men and six women, all dressed in their Sunday best, except for the severe expressions on their faces. Donaldina sat at the end, wrapped in a wool blanket.

  Elizabeth hurried to her friend’s side. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

  The missionary coughed into a crumpled handkerchief. “I wouldn’t let you face this alone, Elizabeth. You’re one of my best teachers and a dear friend.”

  Elizabeth’s spirits lifted. It was unlikely Donaldina could change the board’s decision, but her friend’s presence was welcome, all the same.

  Mrs. Byrd gestured for Elizabeth to take the seat at the far end of the table. “Miss King, I have been going over your class notes for the past few months. Your work is impressive.” She opened a large folder, spilling over with scraps of stationery. “Many of the girls have written letters on your behalf, as well.” She leveled her gaze at Elizabeth. “I want you to know, we’ve taken these items into consideration. But no accolades can blot away the serious nature of these accusations.”

  “The decision is made then?” Elizabeth leaned forward. Just as well. Another few days of waiting would only delay the inevitable.

  “Not completely.” Mrs. Byrd’s gaze shifted to Donaldina. “I’m inclined to grant you an opportunity to speak on your own behalf. Perhaps you can shed light on your behavior in a way that might affect our deliberation.”

  Elizabeth’s limbs grew heavy. “I don’t know what good it will do. I make no excuses for my past. What Mrs. Carver told you . . .” She swallowed, determined not to let emotion chase away her words. “She spoke the truth. I had an inappropriate relationship, I cannot deny that.” She lowered her eyes. “One could argue I was young, and Tobias Carver was my teacher—but I will not. I take full accounting of my actions.”

  A coughing spasm gripped Donaldina, cutting through the quiet room. When she’d finished, Donaldina cleared her throat. “Continue. Please.”

  Continue? Was there more to say? Elizabeth folded her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting. “I understand it is the board’s duty to protect the girls and women of the Presbyterian Mission Home from influences with the potential to lead them astray. I do not ask for mercy.” She closed her eyes for a moment, praying for a calm heart to face what lay ahead. Opening them, she studied the group. “God’s mercy is sufficient for me, and He’s already granted it. When I arrived, I didn’t understand grace. I thought, if I could be good enough . . . work hard enough . . . I might earn back His love, and He might give me a second chance. I didn’t realize God was already waiting, eager to grant this new life just for the asking—fresh, clean, and washed by His blood. It took the events of the past three days to show me the truth. Donaldina has assured me that nothing I have done, or will do, separates me from His love. And forgiveness comes from Him alone, not by any works of my own hand.”

  She focused on each board member in turn. “I want to thank you, with all my heart, for allowing me the opportunity of working here. Had I not done so, I never would have understood the depth of God’s love for me. So, whatever you decide, I am content.”

  A smile crossed Donaldina’s face. “I am pleased, Elizabeth.” She glanced around the room. “The function of 920 is to rescue girls and women from sin and suffering. I don’t believe our duty is to the Chinese people, alone, but to all of God’s children. And who can better understand than one who has walked through the shadows of sin and been redeemed?” She wrapped the covering around her narrow shoulders and stood. “We will leave you to make your decision.”

  Elizabeth waited until Donaldina reached her side. She wove an arm around the missionary’s waist as they left the room.

  Donaldina leaned close and whispered in her ear. “I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

  Elizabeth squeezed her friend’s fingers. “I meant every word. God brought me here for a reason, it just wasn’t what I originally believed.”

  ***

  Charles stood in his uncle’s office, the weight of the man’s wrath hanging in the air. His uncle hadn’t even asked him to sit.

  “Never have I seen a young man so ungrateful, so unworthy to carry the McKinley name. I had dozens of powerful figures waiting to meet you—men who could launch your career and see you not just as a city councilman, but as a state congressman, perhaps even governor one day. And what do you do? You don’t even show up.” Red splotches dotted his uncle’s cheeks. “It will take months for us to recover from this blow. I spent weeks currying favors and pulling strings—all for naught. My opponents are laughing in their coffee this morning, I tell you.”

  He rounded on Charles. “Where were you? What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Charles kept his tone steady. “There was a problem at the Mission, sir. One of the teachers had been abducted by highbinders.”

  Uncle Silas slammed his palm on the desk. “They are not your problem. You were there to impress the Byrds and to make a name for yourself, not to act like a two-bit policeman. I told you to keep your hands clean.”

  Charles’s throat clenched. “The teacher was Elizabeth King.”

  His
uncle lapsed into temporary silence, his mouth open a crack.

  Interesting how the King name always made him stumble. “You needn’t worry. With the help of a local merchant, we were able to recover her with no injury.”

  Uncle Silas’s eyes narrowed. “Who said I was worried?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Still, you had engagements elsewhere. Your duty was to this firm and to your family, not gallivanting around the likes of Chinatown. You can forget the council seat, you practically delivered it into Joseph Miller’s lap—all the good he’ll do with it.”

  “I’m sorry to have disappointed you, but I feel my time was well spent. I’m not certain I’m ready for a council position, anyway. I’ve only lived in the city a few months.”

  Uncle Silas snarled. “I told you, I’d dealt with that issue.”

  A wave of heat rushed through Charles’s chest. “Like you dealt with the King family’s investments?”

  His uncle stepped back, nostrils flaring. “What do you mean by that?”

  There was no point in groveling anymore. Charles folded his arms. “I understand now why you wanted the King case buried. You sold your portion of the investments to the family’s trust. You took their money and pocketed it.”

  Uncle Silas’s brows lowered over his eyes like an executioner’s hood. “I’d caution you against making unsubstantiated allegations. Remember who holds your future, not to mention your debts.”

  “I have the investment records.”

  His uncle curled his fingers into a ball. “Spencer gave them to you, did he? I knew the man wanted to derail me. You can’t believe a word he says, you know that.”

  Spencer? A lead weight sunk into Charles’s stomach. Spencer aspired to be a partner—what better way to achieve it? “The documents show you transferred money from the King’s account on April 16, 1906.”

  “And if you remember your dates, that’s two days prior to the quake. I made a calculated decision regarding the value of those properties, and I took a huge loss in doing so.”

  “You’d have seen a bigger loss if you’d waited a few days.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  Charles leaned forward, bracing himself on the back of the chair. “That’s what it looked like. The problem is, all of the paperwork was destroyed when the Hall of Records burned.”

  “I had my own copies. We hired wagons to haul boxes of our company records across the Bay. I told you that.”

  “Not these documents.”

  His face darkened. “What are you saying, Charles?”

  “You forged these contracts knowing the records department wouldn’t dare question the illustrious Silas McKinley. You changed the dates so it appeared the sale had been made days before the quake, and you left the King family to pick up the pieces.”

  “You forget yourself, Charles.” Uncle Silas sank into his swivel chair, eyes cold. “These allegations are ludicrous. Even if they were true, you cross me and you’ll doom yourself in the process. Drag the McKinley name through the muck, and you’ll never recover from the shame.”

  “You’re the one who has brought shame on the McKinley name. If I follow in your footsteps, I’ll share in your guilt.”

  His uncle tented his hands and pressed them to his chin. “I had to think of the firm. Our future. The future of this whole city.” He slapped the desk. “You want it rebuilt like a bunch of soda crackers, just waiting for the next big cataclysm to wipe it from the map? Someone had to take control.”

  “And the ‘someone’ had to be you.” Charles’s stomach twisted.

  Uncle Silas jumped from his chair, sending it spinning. “Us, boy. Us. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all along. To achieve power, you must make sacrifices.”

  Charles turned to the door. “There’s no us. There never will be.”

  Silas scowled. “Pursue this and I’ll ruin you.”

  “I know.”

  ***

  Elizabeth placed her fingers over the well-worn keys and tapped out the simple melody line without all the frills. If only she could express to her father the love she’d discovered in the age-old hymn. He’d be so pleased. And thanks to the board’s shocking decision, she’d be able to teach many more children about God’s gift of grace.

  “The tune sounds familiar.” Charles’s voice called from the doorway.

  She spun on the stool to face him, breath catching in her chest. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

  “I needed to see you again.” He strode to her side, a smile teasing. “To restore my hope in humanity and faith in the future.”

  “Oh, dear.” She stood. “Sounds serious.”

  He glanced around the empty room before capturing her hands. “Kiss me and I’ll tell you.”

  His charms were difficult to resist. She slid her arms around his waist, underneath his jacket. “Mr. McKinley, there are children about.”

  He scanned the room. “Not right now.” A crooked smile crossed his face.

  She stretched up on her tiptoes, brushing her lips to his. “Like this?”

  He lowered his head, capturing her mouth with a hunger that stole the breath from her lungs and forced her to lean against him for support. He nuzzled her hair, his breath teasing her earlobe. “I love you, Elizabeth.”

  The words rippled through her heart. After all they’d been through, the declaration carried more significance than three words were meant to bear. “I love you, too, but . . .” Her throat tightened, squeezing off her reply. But I still can’t burden you with my disgrace.

  “I think it’s time for you to hear about my day.”

  She fought to retrieve her thoughts. “Tell me.”

  “Let’s see. Where should I begin?” He held his palm under her chin, his gaze roaming her face. “I quit my job, sacrificed my future, and ruined my family’s name—pretty normal day at the office. Oh, yes, and I restored your father’s estate.”

  “What?” His statement made no sense. She stepped out of his grasp. “Slow down. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Charles lowered his eyes for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. He grasped her wrist. “Come, sit with me.”

  She followed him over to the table and sat down.

  Charles claimed the chair beside her. “For the past three months, I’ve been going over your family’s accounts and investments. I knew the numbers didn’t add up, but I couldn’t make heads nor tails of it until recently.”

  “You found something new?”

  He traced a distracting finger along her knuckles. “I’d been suspicious my uncle was involved, but I didn’t want to believe it.” After a moment’s hesitation, Charles launched into a detailed explanation of what he’d found and his confrontation with his uncle.

  Elizabeth sat back, her mind reeling. “I’m stunned. I never imagined . . .” She shook her head, pushing away her own concerns for the moment. “But you can’t sacrifice your future for my sake.”

  “How can I hold myself up as an idealist, knowing my success came at your family’s expense—at anyone’s expense?” He squeezed her hand. “I went into law to protect those with no voice. All this time my uncle’s been trying to convince me I need to sacrifice my ideals to get myself into a position of power.” He shook his head. “But if I do, I’ll be no better than the men I’m seeking to replace.”

  “So, what then?”

  “I spent all morning in the district attorney’s office. They’re seeking an indictment against him for fraud. There will likely be other charges as well, by the time all is said and done.”

  Elizabeth covered her mouth. “Oh, Charles. You must be devastated.”

  “I’m sad for him. He is my uncle, after all, and he defended my sister when no one else would.” He sighed. “But he’s also controlled every step I’ve taken since before I entered law school. I’m eager to walk on my own for once.”

  “What about your political future?”

  “I’ll have to earn it on my own merit, I suppo
se. That’s not a bad thing. And if it’s in God’s will, I’m confident He can make it happen.”

  She touched the base of her throat. “Then I’m pleased for you. And I’m relieved for my mother. I wasn’t sure what she would do.” Her breath caught in her chest. “We need to tell Robert and Ruby.”

  He leaned forward and placed another kiss on her lips, trailing fingers down the edge of her jaw. “I’ve just come from Robert’s office.”

  She scooted back. “You went to Robert before me? Why would you do such a thing?”

  Charles stood, his face grim. “Because your father’s no longer alive.”

  “I know Robert’s in charge of the estate, but I—”

  “Elizabeth.” He lifted his palm to stop her flow of words. “Don’t misunderstand me. I didn’t go to see him about the money.”

  The objection died in her throat. “Then why?”

  He pulled her to her feet. “I wanted to ask his permission.”

  Every hair on Elizabeth’s head stood to attention. “His—his permission?”

  “I was going to wait and take you back to Union Square or Golden Gate Park, but I don’t want to delay another moment.” He dropped to his knee on the wood floor.

  Elizabeth’s legs wobbled. “Charles . . . no. You don’t want someone like me—you don’t.”

  A wide grin claimed his face. “Elizabeth King, I know exactly what I want. I want you beside me every day of my life. I want you to argue with me and keep me on my toes. I want you to spur me to greater actions on behalf of God’s kingdom. And I want to be able to kiss you whenever and wherever I want.”

  The sound of giggling drew Elizabeth’s gaze to the kitchen door where Kum Yong and Tien Gum stood, peeking around the corner. Their laughter knocked a crack in Elizabeth’s reserve. Tears gathered in her eyes.

  He squeezed her hand. “When you first met me, I was an ambitious up-and-comer. Now I’m a penniless, ruined man with no future and little to offer. My only hope is in God and His promises. Perhaps it’s you who shouldn’t be saddled with the likes of me.” His brown eyes locked on hers. “I’m the one begging here. I want to marry you. Will you have me?”