Lily looked him square in the eye. "I'd have to be the simpleton you think me, and a great coward as well, to ignore my family's wishes, travel three thousand miles, then turn around and go back after less than a day. I appreciate your finding me a place to stay. However, if you wish to wash your hands of me, I will manage on my own."
"Haven't you been listening to a word I said?" Zac demanded.
"Of course I have. You think I know nothing about getting along in San Francisco, and you believe being seen in your company would ruin my reputation."
"That's not enough for you?"
Lily smiled at him. "When you decided to become a gambler, did your family approve?"
"Are you kidding? They did everything. They could to stop me. George even cut off my allowance. I had to run away."
"Did you ever doubt you were doing the right thing?"
"Never."
"Then you should know exactly how I feel."
"But you aren't wanting to do anything disgraceful."
"My family will think so. I'm actually in very much the same boat you were in years ago."
"But you're a woman."
"I'm glad you noticed."
"Don't get smart with me. Men can do lots of things women can't."
"I know that, but I'm here now. I've got to at least try to be a success. If I'm a total failure, I promise I'll go back."
Zac eyed her doubtfully "I don't believe you."
"You're not a very trusting man, are you?"
"No. It only gets you in trouble."
"Even with women?"
"Especially with women."
"Well, you can believe me. No matter what happens, I won't expect you to take care of me."
Zac cursed roundly. "See, that's exactly what I mean."
"I don't understand," Lily said, confused.
"You say you won't expect me to be responsible for you, but I'll have to be."
"No, you won't."
"What kind of bastard would I be if something happened to you because I turned my back? I said I was a gambler. I didn't say I was a misbegotten scoundrel and a yellowbelly rolled into one."
Lily laughed. It was a light, bell-like sound, but it didn't make Zac feel a bit like joining her.
"You're shot through with Southern chivalry."
"Don't go nosing that around," Zac snapped. "It's not true. I just can't chuck over relatives, that's all."
"Well, you can cross me off your list. I'm certain Mrs. Holt will help me find a job."
"And no doubt broadcast it all over town that I abandoned you."
"I won't tell anyone I know you. You just said it would prejudice my chances of getting a job, didn't you?"
Zac glared at Lily. "Why don't I trust you?"
"I have no idea."
She smiled at him, innocently and demurely. That made him trust her even less.
"I'll come around tomorrow," Zac said. "We can talk about it again."
She looked fragile, Zac thought as he went down the steps, but she gave every indication of being tough minded. That's what came from having a father who was convinced every thought that popped into his head had divine sanction. Some of it was bound to rub off.
Zac had to admit he'd never seen anybody quite as lovely, even dressed in black. And that hair! It made him think of a statue that occupied a quiet niche in the chapel where he had gone to school. The headmaster had forced Zac to attend services despite his vigorous protests. He'd spent many hours looking at that angel, thinking thoughts that were far from angelic.
Lily had much the same effect on him.
Zac shuddered. He liked his life the way it was. He liked sleeping when, where, and as long as he wanted. He liked having meals cooked to his tastes and served at any hour of the day. He liked having his pick of women. He also liked having his clothes closet and his mirror to himself.
Maybe it would be better if he didn't meet Lily tomorrow. Maybe he'd send Dodie.
No. With his luck, they'd put their heads together and come up with something that would turn his hair grey. He might have to be very firm, even forceful, but she had to go straight back home.
All the same, it was a shame she couldn't stay just a day or two. He liked her slow, unhurried way of talking, the way she drew the vowels out just a little longer than usual. After all the noise and energy of the saloon, it had a wonderful soothing effect on him.
Or maybe his calm was the aftermath of his excitement over the spade royal flush. Or the shock of looking up, seeing a woman who looked like an angel, and fearing God had decided after such a hand he had nothing left to accomplish.
Zac turned the corner, saw the lights and heard the sounds coming out of the saloons and gambling halls, and the familiar excitement began to surge within him. His doubts faded as he started to feel like himself again. It had to be Lily and the royal flush. They had upset his equilibrium. The game was over, and Lily would soon be gone. Everything would be like it used to be.
But for some reason, that didn't seem like a perfect solution.
Chapter Three
Lily closed the door to her room, effectively bringing to a close the most momentous day of her life. Well, maybe the day she packed her trunks and left Salem while her parents were away at a two-week revival meeting was more momentous, but everything had gone according to plan that day. When the train pulled out of the station, she had actually experienced a tiny feeling of anticlimax.
Today things had gone wrong from the start. From discovering her trunk had been sent to Sacramento to convincing her cab driver she really did want to be taken to an address on the edge of the Barbary Coast district, everything had been a struggle.
Then there was Zac's refusal to honor his invitation.
Well, he hadn't exactly refused. He had found a room for her, and he would probably keep an eye on her. But he clearly intended for her to go back to Virginia at the earliest possible moment.
Lily had no intention of going home. She wasn't sure her father would let her. That saddened her, but she knew it couldn't be helped. They had never understood each other. There was no use pretending they had.
Neither was there any use pretending she'd be happy married to Hezekiah and helping him minister to his flock. She'd tried to explain to him why she didn't want to marry him, but he believed a daughter's marriage should be settled between the father and the bridegroom. Once that was done, it was the daughter's duty to accept her lot and do everything in her power to make her husband happy.
Lily had decided that arrangement was stacked in favor of the groom. She had no faith that a man who could ignore her wishes before the wedding would pay them any attention afterwards.
She took off the black dress, undid the laces of her corset, and heaved a sigh of relief as the whalebone cage dropped to the floor. She quickly changed from her petticoat and chemise into her nightgown and robe. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked pale. No wonder Zac acted like he had seen a ghost.
She smiled to herself when she thought of Zac Randolph. He had to be the most handsome man in the world. He looked strong-minded, like he could be dangerous under the right circumstances, but still vulnerable. Exactly the kind of black sheep who appealed to a woman's fancy.
Despite her father's dire warnings, he didn't seem to be doing anything very bad. He was gambling, but since he wasn't married, he wasn't taking food out of the mouths of his wife and children. He wasn't drinking, he wasn't wenching -- though she didn't imagine he'd be doing that in the middle of a saloon anyway -- and he wasn't blaspheming. A black sheep who passed up all those things couldn't be any darker than medium grey.
When he smiled, she felt sure light grey was probably a more accurate assessment. No man who looked as good as he did could be evil.
Lily pulled back the covers. It was wonderful to climb into a real bed instead of a train birth. It was sheer luxury to stretch out, to be able to turn over without fear of falling out of bed. It was wonderful not to hear the incessant scream o
f iron wheels on steel rails, not to feel the incessant rocking and swaying, not to have the acrid odor of soot and smoke constantly in her nostrils. It was heaven to know she was safe from the wandering hands of male passengers.
She had traveled by train before, but always with her father. She hadn't known there were so many dangers. Nor had she been prepared for the differences between western men and those she'd grown up with her in her small Virginia town. Still, she hadn't been frightened.
She was fascinated. She'd been told saloons here the haunts of the devil. She'd almost expected hideous creatures with horns and tails to snatch innocent passersby off the streets and carry them down into the bowels of Hell. Instead she'd seen a room full of people having a good time and in no danger of being whisked off to some nether region.
It seemed her father was mistaken about saloons. He might be mistaken about Zac as well. She hoped so. She liked Zac. She liked him a lot.
But her father wouldn't.
Lily sat up in bed. She hadn't written her parents. They wouldn't return from the revival for another week, but she wanted the letter to be waiting when they got back. She didn't want them to worry about her.
She got out of bed. She saw writing materials on a small table by the door. All she had to do was sit down, write the letter, and post it tomorrow.
But what to write, what to say? No one had ever defied her father, not even her brothers. That his daughter should challenge his authority would be beyond his comprehension. He didn't understand that she had beliefs of her own, the right to have her wishes considered. She was his daughter, she should do what he wanted, she should make him proud.
He had pushed her into leaving, but he would see it as willful disobedience. He might not even want to know where she was or care she was safe. He might not even love her anymore.
That thought cut deep. Though she disagreed with her father, she loved him deeply. He had protected her, sheltered her, taught her, loved her.
But there was no use thinking about it. She'd done little else for months. She drew the paper to her and dipped her pen in ink.
Dear Papa,
You're going to be very angry when you read this letter. I'm sorry. I know you don't understand. I could never be the kind of daughter you wanted, so I thought it would be better for me to go away.
Tell Mama and the boys not to worry. I'm staying in a very nice boarding house for young women. You don't have to worry that I don't have money. I used Aunt Sofia's money to get here. Tomorrow I will get a job, so you see I will be quite self-sufficient.
Lily had to stop to wipe her eyes. Just thinking about her mother caused her to tear up. She would miss her family. They didn't understand her, but they were very dear to her.
I'm in San Francisco. Zac Randolph is here, too. I know you don't like him, but he has been very nice.
Tell Hezekiah to be glad I wouldn't marry him. I would not have made a good wife. He'd have been truly unhappy.
I'd better go now. I'm tired from the train ride. It was exciting, but I miss my own bed. I would very much like a letter now and then to let me know you are doing well. Even though I don't agree with you, I love you.
Lily had to stop. She was crying so hard the tears were running down her cheeks. She was determined none of them would drop on the letter.
Please write. I miss you already.
Love, Lily
Lily addressed the letter and sealed it. She would mail it first thing in the morning.
* * * * *
Next morning Lily was dressed and downstairs before Bella.
"I wasn't expecting you out of bed before noon," Bella said. She looked uncomfortable at being caught in her worn robe, her hair in curler paper.
"At home we were always up by six, finished breakfast by seven," Lily said.
Bella winced. "That won't make you very popular in San Francisco. There's nothing to do at this hour unless you're the milkman." After a moment's silence, Bella asked, "Would you like something to eat?"
"Yes, please. My father always insisted we have a big breakfast. He said it was the most important meal of the day."
Bella winced again. "You're going to have to do some adjusting before you'll feel comfortable here."
"I know. I plan to start today."
"How?"
"I'm going to see as much of San Francisco as I can. Then I'm going to Zac's saloon. I'll probably be gone all day."
* * * * *
Lily found the streets virtually empty. She couldn't imagine how so many people could live in one place and nobody be out before eight o'clock. At home they would have completed half a day's work by nine o'clock. Apparently San Francisco didn't get started until then.
Lily stopped to look back at the view out over the bay. She was used to mountains, but it was nothing compared to the view of the bay and the sea beyond the headland. Merely by turning a quarter of a circle, she could look out over the Golden Gate and watch the magnificent sailing ships coming in from distant ports all over the world, their sails bulging with the wind that had carried them thousands of miles over the limitless sea.
The tang of the salt air was even more invigorating than a mountain breeze. She couldn't imagine how anyone could stay in bed.
Lily left the serene row of respectable houses and entered a street that seemed to be lined with businesses. She didn't see a single person. She turned onto Pacific Street, and everything changed.
Only a few buildings were as grand as the Little Corner of Heaven. Most were squat buildings of poor construction and discouraging appearance, almost all of unpainted wood. Signs invited patrons inside to partake of various pleasures, the nature of which Lily sometimes couldn't even guess.
Salem House looked just as grand as it had the night before, but today the curtains were drawn and no lights shown from the windows. A man came out of a side door, looked nervously up and down the street, then hurried away in the direction from which Lily had just come.
Something about his furtiveness made her feel uneasy until she reached the Little Corner of Heaven. Relieved, she stepped inside.
The saloon didn't look at all like she remembered. It was as empty and silent as the streets outside. The tables had been wiped clean and the chairs stacked neatly. All the cards had been cleared away, the chips and dice boxed up, the wheels stilled, tables stripped of their green cloths, and the machines with the handles covered. Even the floor has been swept clean. Only the smell of whisky and smoke kept Lily from thinking she had imagined the whole scene of the night before.
And Dodie. Lily found her sitting in a corner, a cup of coffee in one hand, some sort of book in the other. She wore a faded green velvet robe over a cream-colored silk nightgown. Pink puffballs on her slippers clashed violently with the rest. She smoked a long, thin cigar, smoke drifting lazily from her nostrils. Even at this hour, she wore full makeup.
Lily walked toward her, relieved at last to find someone she knew.
Dodie looked up. "What are you doing here?" she asked. She didn't sound like she was trying to be rude, but she clearly wasn't happy to see Lily.
"I came to see Zac."
"He said you'd be leaving on the first train. You ought to be packing."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"He said you were."
"I told him I wasn't."
That appeared to give Dodie pause. She took a swallow of coffee, puffed on her cigar, and motioned for Lily to take a seat.
"I'm never at my best in the morning. Having to look up at your hideously beautiful face is making it a lot worse."
Lily sat. "Why do you say my face is hideously beautiful? I don't see how it can be both."
"Any fool can see you're beautiful. It's hideous because I can't stand to look at anybody as beautiful as you."
"But you're beautiful, too," Lily said.
Dodie swallowed some more coffee, took another puff from her cigar. "You see this mess all over my face?" Dodie smeared her lipstick with her index finger. "That's ho
w I do it. Are you wearing paint?"
"Of course not," Lily declared, startled by such a notion. "Papa wouldn't allow it."
"That's why I think you're hideous," Dodie said. "You get out of bed looking like that. I spend hours on my face, it costs a fortune, and I still don't look half as good."
"You've got more color than I have," Lily said. "I look so pale people think I'm unwell."
"I bet you get lots of young men offering to bring you water or to hold your hand until you feel better."
"Not in Salem. Papa says no decent female wants a lot of idle young men hanging about. He sends them about their business."
"I'm sure he does," Dodie said between a swallow of coffee and another puff on her cigar.
"Papa says--"
"Spare me any more of your papa's sayings. I can imagine what they are. He sounds very much like my own father."
"Was he a minister, too?"
"That's what he called himself, but it's not how most people described him."
"I know what you mean. People sometimes say unkind things to Papa when he points out the error of their ways."
"My father's problem wasn't expecting too much of others. It was requiring too little of himself."
Lily wasn't sure she knew what Dodie meant. She was beginning to understand that people in San Francisco were different from people back home. She decided it might be wise not to pry until she understood more.
"Why did you come here?" Dodie asked.
"I told you, to see Zac."
"I mean why did you come to San Francisco?" Dodie said. "You're a country girl. You don't belong in a place like this."
"I imagine you were a country girl once."
"What makes you say that?"
"You don't want me here, but you haven't thrown me out. You know what it's like to be a stranger."
Dodie's gaze became more intense. "Some of us didn't have as far to go as you."
Lily refused to give ground. She knew Dodie didn't like her, probably distrusted her, but she refused to be intimidated.
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