LITMIR.BIZ

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“If you ask me, the earthquake did us a favor. Cleaned house. We could use this opportunity to construct a showpiece of the West. But, no—folks want to put everything exactly where it was.” He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “How did it go with the King woman?”

      Welcome to the firm. Good to see you. How was the ferry ride? Did his uncle always skip the pleasantries? Charles skidded through his thoughts in an attempt to select the most pertinent information to report. “Mrs. King was quite welcoming. She seemed to understand the situation and be open to solutions.”

      His uncle smiled, sitting forward. “Good, good. After her son showed up demanding answers, I feared she might be handing the reins over to him.”

      Charles scooted closer to the desk. “I’m more concerned about the younger Miss King. She seemed put out over their predicament and quite vocal about her concerns.”

      Uncle Silas flapped his hand. “Inconsequential. She’s a minor child.”

      Charles drew the file from his bag. “I’m sorry to correct you, Uncle, but she’s no more a minor than I am. She’s twenty years old.”

      “Twenty? How is that possible? Why, she was only in pigtails . . .” He squinted, as if searching his memories. “Well, I suppose it’s been a few years since I was last there. Same thing happened with you. I visit once and you’re a freckled-faced tyke in short pants. Now you sit before me a full-fledged attorney.” He ran a hand across his graying hair. “How old are you? Eighteen?”

      “Twenty-four.”

      He grunted, rubbing a hand across his eyes before replacing his spectacles, the chain dangling next to his jaw. “And that makes me an old man.”

      Charles didn’t succeed in hiding his smile, the tension easing from his shoulders. “As I was saying, she’s highly agitated, throwing around wild accusations.”

      His uncle drew back. “What sort of accusations?”

      “The news about their financial losses must have been a great shock to the family. Miss King suggested their investments might have been mismanaged.”

      Uncle Silas banged a hand on the desk like a gavel. “Most of the city took a financial loss. Why should the Kings be any different?” He pushed to his feet, the empty chair rotating slowly on its axis. He strode to the window and stared out over the view. “Leave it to a snip of a girl to claim her losses count for more than ours. Does she realize how many of my own assets incinerated during those three days? I’d invested in the same properties as William King, plus several other buildings. Many crumbled in the first shock, the others brought down by dynamite during the fire. The army thought explosives were the only way to stop the conflagration. My house was one of the last to burn.” He huffed, turning away from the view. “And I’m supposed to worry about her finances. Twenty years old—what does she know of loss?”

      A shudder passed through Charles. He’d read about the disaster, but hadn’t realized how deeply it had impacted his uncle. “It must have been terrifying.”

      “My life’s work went up in smoke. I paid a team of men a mighty sum to haul our records across the Bay to safety. If I hadn’t saved the documentation of every client who owed me money, I’d have been destitute—sleeping in one of those pathetic relief shacks, like any other yokel. It was a good day when I saw the last of those ramshackle cabins carted out of Golden Gate Park.”

      “Father wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. You could have lived with us.”

      “My brother knows I was never intended for ranch life.” Uncle Silas turned away from the window with a scowl. “And neither are you.”

      A prickling sensation climbed Charles’s back. How easily his uncle saw through him.

      “I always sensed you were destined for greatness. First, we’ll establish you here in the firm. Show me how hard you can work, and I’ll see you get into politics. A councilman, for starters, perhaps. But I plan to have you in the mayor’s office before long.”

      Mayor McKinley. He could do so much good from the mayor’s seat. Charles grabbed the reins on his thoughts, determined not to let his dreams run away with him. “Uncle, I just arrived.”

      A gleam appeared in Uncle Silas’s eye. “Oh, you haven’t arrived yet, boy.” He turned and gazed out at Market Street. “But you will.”

      ***

      Elizabeth gripped her case, a long coat draped over one arm. Ever since the ferry came to rest against the dock, sweat had trickled down her back beneath her tailored jacket. Remembering the bay’s chilly fog from her last visit, she’d dressed in extra layers. Now as she lined up with the other passengers to disembark, the sun’s rays beat down, cooking her. The boat deck swayed under her feet. She couldn’t wait to get somewhere quiet where she could shrug off this jacket and wool vest. Likely as not, that wouldn’t be until she arrived at the Mission. Her stomach quivered at the thought, her zeal fading with every measured step.

      The porter smiled as he helped her down the gangplank. “Welcome to San Francisco, Miss.”

      She pulled the case close to her hip, as if it would work as a shield against her fears. Elizabeth followed the stream of passengers heading for the Ferry Building and scanned the crowd for Ruby.

      Her sister stepped from the crowd, waving a gloved hand. Her red hair sparkled in the sunlight, lace ribbons trailing from her sage-green hat. “Elizabeth!”

      A wash of emotion swept over Elizabeth as she rushed into her sister’s arms. “I’m so relieved you are here, Ruby. I’m completely wrung out.”

      “Of course you are, sweetheart. I felt the same way when I arrived two years ago.” She pulled her close. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!”

      Elizabeth laid her cheek on her sister’s shoulder, biting her lower lip to keep from bursting into tears like a lost child.

      Ruby’s husband walked up to join them, a smile on his face. “Sisters reunited. A good sight.”

      Elizabeth pulled back, keeping her grip on Ruby’s hand lest she disappear into the crowd. “Dr. Larkspur—Gerald—it’s wonderful to see you again.” Elizabeth diverted her gaze from the empty sleeve folded and pinned above his elbow. Ruby had written of the surgery, but it was still difficult to see her brother-in-law with only one arm.

      He took her case and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. “You should have seen Ruby’s face when we received your letter.”

      A laugh bubbled up in Elizabeth’s chest, chasing away the malaise that had crept over her. “I guess this is a little out of character.”

      A blast of air escaped Ruby’s lips. “Not at all. My altruistic sister volunteering at a mission? It’s a perfect match, if you ask me. How many lost kittens did you bring home when you were little? Now you’re going after lost girls.” She wrapped her arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “You’ve grown up while we weren’t paying attention.”

      Elizabeth glanced between her sister and Gerald. “As Mother keeps reminding me, you’re all busy with your marriages. I decided it was high time I did something worthwhile, since I’m no closer to finding a husband.”

      “I met Gerald the day I arrived in San Francisco. Perhaps the man of your dreams awaits you here, somewhere.”

      An ache cut through Elizabeth’s heart. If only she’d followed her sister’s example. She’d rather have a one-armed man who loved her fiercely than a two-faced musician concerned only with his own pleasure. “I’ve put such thoughts out of my mind. At least for now.”

      They arranged for a porter to deliver her trunk to the automobile, and Gerald led the way to the Ferry Building’s front door. “We’d love to have you stay at the house for a few days before you begin work.”

      The weariness dropped back over her shoulders like a cloak. “I wish I could. I told Miss Cameron I’d arrive

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