by Cate Masters
Ah, so that’s how it was already. For her. Not us. “Of course I am. It’s getting dark, that’s all. We should get back.”
Unlike earlier, she walked beside him, holding her purse with both hands. That quickly, she distanced herself from him, had no need of him.
When they reached the camp, she waved. “There’s Virginia. I must go give her the good news.” Without a parting glance, she hitched her skirts and hurried to the older woman.
Mac strolled away. Something seemed different in camp. People moved with more purpose.
As he passed a small group of men, he heard one say, “Unbelievable. That much?”
“Four dollars a day.” Another man pointed with each word. “Can you imagine? Fancy lawyers in New York City only make a dollar fifty a day.”
Another laughed and shook his head. “We’ll be rich in no time.”
Mac couldn’t resist. “Evening, gents. What’s the good news?”
“The Palace is hiring workers to rebuild.”
“At four dollars a day?” Had he heard right?
Though all had expressions of disbelief, they all nodded. The first rocked on his heels. “We’re going to sign on in the morning.”
“Mind if I join you?” At that daily wage, Mac would have enough to help Norah rebuild, provided they could get the supplies they needed.
The first man nodded. “We’re meeting here at eight-thirty. Make sure you’re early to the breakfast line.”
“I’ll be sure to do that.” Mac tipped his cap and made his way to Norah, who still chatted with Mrs. Wooten. He could barely contain his glee. Norah wasn’t the only one with wonderful news.
She peered up at him. “Don’t you look like the cat that ate the canary.”
He nodded in greeting to Mrs. Wooten. “If the canary’s in the rubble of the Palace, I might just.”
Her laugh held a nervous edge. “What?”
“I’m signing on tomorrow morning. The Palace is hiring—”
Her back became rigid. “Tomorrow morning? But you promised to help me tomorrow.”
“But the Palace—”
“Should mean less to you than me. What about my business?”
Her business. Her money. Her everything. Wages from the Palace would change all that. “If you’ll let me explain, Norah—”
“What’s to explain? You’re abandoning me again.” She flew to her feet. “I’m sorry for this disturbance, Virginia. We’ll leave you in peace.” She stomped off.
Mac heaved a sigh, then bowed to Mrs. Wooten. “My apologies as well. Have a pleasant evening.” More pleasant than his, no doubt.
He strode after Norah and caught up to her at the tent.
She whirled.
“Mac, I don’t want you to think that what happened earlier will happen again.”
Ho now. Quite the change from this morning. “I told you I’m willing to wait. But,” he added with a grin, “I believe you owe me a hundred dollars.”
“What?”
He forced his expression to remain pleasant. “Our bet.” Did she not remember?
She glanced around as if mortified. “You can’t be serious.”
Of course he wasn’t. “Now Norah—”
“Maybe you should get your own tent.” She clutched the paper tight.
“Why?” She hadn’t minded him sleeping in the same tent before.
She squared her shoulders. “It’s not proper for us to share.”
He rubbed his thumb across his chin. “I see.” He saw whatever future he thought he had with her fading fast.
“Well, would your parents approve?”
“They rarely approve of anything I do.” He wouldn’t ask whether her mother might object. She wouldn’t. “I’ll sleep outside then.”
“I didn’t mean for you to do that.”
“Then what did you mean, Norah?” His brogue escaped in his anger.
Sweet petals of lips pinched tight, she glared. “Maybe you should sleep outside, after all.”
Hell’s bells. He always let his temper get in the way. “Norah—”
“Good night.” She stomped to the tent, flailed open the flap and disappeared inside.
It might have been a better evening, had he not ruined it. With a sigh, he eased onto the grass beside the tent, its blades cold with the night air. He set his cap atop his eyes. No, it would not be a good night, but hopefully tomorrow she’d come to her senses.
***
Carpentry kept Mac’s hands busy, but not his mind. Constant hauling of lumber couldn’t block Norah from his thoughts. Her stubbornness. Nailing boards into place, he fumed. Hadn’t he proven himself? He could have hopped the ferry and sailed across the bay to Richmond, turned his back on her and this godforsaken city. But no, he’d stayed. Did she appreciate it? Not in the least.
He hammered harder than necessary.
At the end of the work day, he stood in yet another line. This time, worth the wait. His name on the payroll.
Weary, Mac trudged through the ruins toward the center of town. When one of the new electric trolleys approached, he hopped aboard. Incredible that Mayor Schmidt’s launched service on a new line, and only ten days after the disaster. No wonder people already spoke of the ‘new San Francisco’.
Three boys huddled in the center of the car, holding sacks. Mac knew what they carried: dead rats. The city paid people a bounty for them, though the lads would receive only candy. Treasure enough for a child, and the city avoided breakouts of cholera and the like.
Since the arrival of more aid, including twelve trains carrying supplies sent by newspaper mogul William Randolph Hearst, conditions had eased. But Mac, like most people, wanted to get on with his life. Take a hand in steering his destiny. He disembarked, confident he might have a firmer grip on the rudder.
Hopefully in steering toward fortune, it would land him in Norah’s arms.
***
Every day, Norah checked with the insurance bureau. Every day, the clerk gave her the same admonishing look and said he’d notify her as soon as it arrived, and then shooed her away.
Walking back, she could hardly contain her frustration. “I’m going to bust if something doesn’t happen soon.”
If that something were Mac appearing at her tent, apologizing, she’d welcome it. Since their tiff, he’d made himself scarce. Weeks had passed. Agonizing weeks.
Worst of all, she had no idea what to do. She'd never had a man before. Should she seek him out? Lord no, she could only imagine the jeers of his coworkers if she showed up there. If only she knew—had he given up on her?
Not that she could fault him for helping to rebuild the city; she helped clear debris whenever she could too. Everyone did. After the shock wore off, people rolled up their sleeves and got to work. It amazed her, and heartened her. The city wouldn’t die. Norah wouldn’t let her gentlemen’s club, either.
Throughout the tent city, others spoke with eagerness of reopening their businesses, too. Bide your time, Norah. You’re not the only one eager to start over.
But then, not everyone else had traveled from the farthest coast to do just that. At night, sometimes she lay in the tent and wondered whether she should just pack up and go back. Could she bear it? Would Dan see her as a failure? Would Estelle welcome her, or mock her for thinking she could make something, anything more than a whore, of herself?
No. I won’t go back. No matter what, she’d stay and work her hands raw.
They already are. The thought made her pause as she cleared away bits of wood from her property. Someday, the new place would stand here, better than the old. More grand, Mac had said. Warmth flushed through her, remembering his confident smile. His steady embrace. Not so steady now.
Her smile faded as she returned to work. He hadn’t believed in her at first. He probably still thought a gentleman’s club a bad idea. Damn that man, abandoning her again. Had he really hired on to work at the hotel? For all she knew, he’d simply tired of her company.
The splintered edge of
a split board bit into her hand, and she waved away the sting. Serves you right, thinking that way about him. He’d never given her cause to mistrust him. Too bad he was only the second man in her life about whom she could make that claim.
She sighed and looked around at the debris she stood in the middle of. If ever there was a time to decide on something new, that time was now. But what? Mac would have ideas, she felt sure of it.
Oh, how she wanted to talk to him!
***
Another workday ended, and Mac reported to the payroll officer. In only twenty-three days, he’d made a small fortune, all right. Enough to approach Norah. If she accused him of using her, he’d show her how wrong she was. With all this money, he had no need to. Unless he could use her in other ways. He’d thought of many, these past lonely weeks.
After hitching a ride home on the electric trolley, he walked to the park where the tent city sat, for once in time for the soup and bread, though it left his stomach still grumbling.
As he stood in line, he caught Norah’s eye. She sat with an older woman on the grass, watching him.
Suddenly nervous, he wondered what to do. Fool. Go talk to her. He couldn’t lose another night’s sleep, imagining arguing with her. Missing her. Wanting that thin curtain of canvas to dissolve so he could lay next to her again.
After receiving his ration, he carried it to where she sat. “May I join you?”
The older woman smiled. “I’ve finished. Excuse me.”
“Good night, Emmy.” Norah tilted her head up to him. “Suit yourself.”
Despair warred with irritation. He plopped beside her. “How are you?”
She pursed her lips. “Wonderful. You?”
He heaved a breath. She wouldn’t make this easy. “Busy.” Lonely.
“I’ve been helping, too. I found two dozen good bricks today.”
“Did you now? Wonderful.” He dipped his hard crust into the soup.
She picked at the grass blades. “Don’t be snide. How many did you salvage?”
So she wanted to compete even in that. “None.”
“I see. So what do you do with your days? Did you find a piano somewhere?” Her pout took the sting out of her sarcasm.
“I wish I could have.” He sighed. “Sadly, I’ve no time.”
She glared. “Stop your nonsense. Where have you been, Mac?”
He gulped back a grin at the sadness hiding in her anger. “I told you weeks ago, love. At the Palace Hotel.”
Her startled look tempered his triumph. Speechless—finally. He added, “Helping rebuild it.”
Hurt choked her voice. “What about my place? You’ve given up on it?”
How could he make her understand? “No, of course not. I’m working there so I can help you.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “How absurd. Do you expect me to swallow that malarkey?” Her gaze drifted to the distance, and she stared in confusion.
Not even listening to his response, he thought angrily. “Malarkey? How else could I—”
“Oh my God.” She shot upward and waved.
“What are you doing?” He followed her gaze to where a man walked through the evening diners, speaking to several.
The man glanced over, halted in surprise, and then ran toward them. “Norah!”
Bloody hell. Who was he now? Too old to be a suitor. Or was he? The way Norah broke into laughing tears, she certainly seemed happy to see him.
“Dan!” She ran into the stranger’s open arms, and he whirled her around.
Not a stranger to her. Mac’s heart sank, watching them hug for a long, tearful time. Finally, she pointed at Mac and tugged the man by the hand.
Mac gulped. An unseen hand had just yanked the rudder of his life from his grip, and he could do nothing but stand there and wait to receive the news. Whatever new direction it forced him to go in, he’d fight to keep Norah at his side.
Blinking back tears, Norah guided Dan to where Mac stood. Seeing them together, she nearly forgot to introduce them – the two men who meant everything to her.
“Dan, this is Mac. Gerard MacKenzie. Mac, this is Dan Jamison.” She turned to Dan. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“The newspapers reported the earthquake, but I wasn't sure whether to come until I got your letter,” Dan said. “I left as soon as I could. I had to be sure you were all right.”
Unbelievable that he’d travel so far to check on her. She dabbed at her eyes. “It’s wonderful to see you, but you shouldn’t have come.”
Sadness filled Dan’s face. “I had no reason to stay.”
Oh no. Wide-eyed, Norah clutched at her throat. “Estelle?”
Dan hung his head. “I’m sorry, honey. Sal found her passed out about two weeks ago, an empty bottle beside the bed. Doc couldn’t revive her.”
Choking back tears, she steeled herself. “I’m sorry, Dan. I know you loved her.”
“Yes, I did. But I love my daughter, too.” Dan held her gaze, his anxious yearning plain.
Her mind whirled. Mouth agape, she stared at him. “Are you saying…”
“That I’m your father? Yes.” Dan smiled. “I knew the moment I laid eyes on you in the cradle, honey.”
Her slender fingers covered her mouth as she tried to take it in. Her father? So many times, she’d wished he were. Now it seemed like a dream come true.
Afraid to fully believe it, her lip quivered. “I always thought of you as my father.” All those years he’d helped her, rescued her from scrapes. Just like the last time she’d seen him, intervening with the sheriff so she could leave on the train. Realization struck. “You bought the property here, didn’t you? And arranged for the lawyer to contact me.”
“I knew you wanted to leave in the worst way. I sold my father’s farm after he passed, and had nothing else to do with the money.”
“Dan.” She hugged him hard, grateful for someone solid to hold onto. Another someone solid. Mac had seen her through the most terrible time of her life. Until recently, he’d been her rock in the tempest.
Over Dan’s shoulder, she stole a glance at Mac. The way he stood back, respectful but concerned, spoke to her heart in a way no words could. No matter their differences, she’d straighten it all out with him. She couldn’t imagine rebuilding the saloon—or her life—without him.
Mac might have felt a fool if Dan weren’t her father. He might have hugged the man, too, if Norah didn’t have him locked in a tearful embrace.
Pulling back, she held Dan at arm’s length. “But why didn’t you tell me before now?”
Dan looked dejected. “Your mama wouldn’t let me claim you.”
“Such a stubborn woman.” She swiped a tear from her cheek.
Mac couldn’t hold back his grin. “Just like you.”
Anger flared, making her green eyes bright.
He held up a hand. “It’s not a bad trait. It will see us through rebuilding.”
She knit her brow. “But you’re too busy rebuilding the Palace.”
“Hell’s bells, woman. You never let me finish. I want to use my wages from the Palace to invest in your business. That way, we can start on equal footing.”
She glanced away. “You want to be business partners.”
The disappointment in her tone gave him hope. “I want to be more than that, love. If you’ll have me, and with your father’s permission, I hope you’ll marry me. I promise I’ll do my best to make you happy.”
Doubt and hope warred in her face as she searched his eyes. “How can you be happy in all this?”
Taking her hands in his, he kissed them. “If you say yes, I’ll be the happiest man alive. We can get through anything, Norah. Trust me.”
“I do trust you.” A breathless laugh escaped. “Besides Dan, I’ve never trusted any other man.”
“So you’ll marry me?”
“I….” She glanced at her father.
“I’ve taken you by surprise.” And obviously, he’d chosen the wrong time. He backed away
. “Spend some time with your father.”
Surprise changed to confusion. “Where are you going?”
He shrugged. “For a stroll. Not far.” Luckily, he’d managed to make his voice sound light when his heart weighed in his chest like an anchor. Turning his cap in his hands, he nearly stumbled atop a woman crouching outside her tent. At her yelp, he turned, and after a muttered apology, beat a hasty exit.
How long should he stay away? Should he leave at all? She might take it as a sign, again, that he’d give up on her too easily. He glanced back and halted.
She hurried toward him. “Mac, wait.”
“What about your father?”
“He’ll wait a few minutes. We need to talk.”
His frustration bubbled over. “Norah, I didn’t abandon you.”
“I know.”
“I’ve been slaving to make money—for us.”
“I know.”
She knew? “Then why badger me about it?”
“Don’t raise your voice to me. I wasn’t badgering you. I was worried. About us.”
Worried? “If you know so much, then you also know I have no intention of leaving you. Ever.”
Her dimple deepened as she smiled. “I know.”
Warmth coursed through him. “What else do you know?”
“That despite the airs you put on, you’re a decent, hardworking man.”
He nodded. “What else?”
“I know that you love me.” Her voice softened.
But did she love him? He lost the courage to ask. Instead, he stroked her cheek. “Do you also know I’d never do anything to hurt you?”
“Yes, Mac. I know that, too.” She rose up on tiptoe to touch her lips to his.
He threw his arms around her, and deepened the kiss. She looped her arms around his neck. Her mouth moving against his revealed her heart without words.
Only a wolfish whistle slowed him. He was the first to pull away, but reluctantly. Around them, everyone watched.
He nodded. “Good day, folks.”
Blushing, Norah smiled. “We’d better get back to Dan.” Her hand found his, and she tugged him away.
Nervousness fluttered through him when he addressed Dan. “May I have your daughter’s hand in marriage?”