Beyond the Ashes Page 10

  He closed the notebook containing Robert’s most recent article, written for the California Medical Quarterly. He’d marked a few passages, adjusting some of the younger man’s more optimistic projections. If my name is going on the piece, I want the claims kept conservative. He rubbed a hand against the pinching muscles in his neck. The evidence thus far suggested X-rays only delayed the inevitable. Could they do more? He closed his eyes, leaning back in the wooden swivel chair. Dee Feinstein would be the next to die. The knowledge settled like a rock in the pit of his stomach.

  He needed a day away from the cancer ward. Next week, he’d drive over and see if Sergeant Tobias needed a hand with the emergency medical center at the Presidio camp. Nothing could cure the malaise of research like rolling up his sleeves and working with the people—illnesses and wounds he could actually hope to treat. Perhaps Ruby would like to accompany him. Unless she’d had her fill of the camps this week.

  He ran a hand over his eyes. Why was her name never more than a whisper from his thoughts? He wasn’t some young medical student who needed an admiring nurse dogging his footsteps.

  But Ruby was smart and capable. He couldn’t refute it. She shouldn’t be denied the opportunity to put her skills to use simply because he had difficulty controlling his thoughts. He laid Robert’s article on the desk blotter. I’ll ask her if she’d like to join me. Who knows—she might refuse.

  * * *

  Ruby wrapped her hand around the teacup, steam curling into the air. She crossed the dew-laden grass to the grape arbor, relishing the morning’s damp, earthy fragrance. After several weeks of living in the packed house, she’d learned a few moments of privacy before the day began fulfilled her craving for solitude. The long angled beams of sunshine filtered through the yellow-leafed vines, spilling out over the wrought-iron bench like so much California gold dust.

  Loosening her grip on the woolen shawl, she spread the garment over the bench, preferring a dry backside to snug shoulders. Ruby set the cup on the seat and ran her still-warm fingers across weary eyes. She’d fallen into bed last night, her feet aching from a long shift at the hospital. Why had she agreed to accompany Gerald to the Presidio today?

  Oh, yes. Because he’d gazed at her with those blue eyes. Charlie’s eyes. Ruby sighed. She’d planned to assist Robert in the X-ray laboratory, but her brother had been quick to say she’d be of more use to Gerald. Ruby pressed her lips into a firm line. All of her good intentions to come to San Francisco and aid her brother scrambled into disarray the moment she’d stepped off the ferry. She spent more time with Gerald and Abby than Robert. Ruby lifted the teacup, the fragrance awakening her senses. At least her skills were useful here, and it’s more than she could say for Sacramento.

  Tomorrow she would go downtown and purchase some driving goggles and a duster coat. Between the ash and the demolition, the filth kicked up by the wagons and automobiles was incredible. Good thing I didn’t think about the automobiles before I came to San Francisco.

  She took a sip and gazed across the small yard to the quiet house. If Robert and Abby moved to a new home after their wedding, where would she go? She couldn’t stay on with Gerald and his family. People might talk, and she wouldn’t wish to be accused of unseemly behavior. But the newlyweds deserved their privacy. Ruby rolled the warm liquid around in her mouth before swallowing. No, it wouldn’t do. She’d need to find another place to live. Half of San Francisco was also searching for housing, unfortunately. If Ruby wasn’t careful, she’d be forced to bunk in one of those relief cottages.

  The back door opened, and Gerald stepped out to the back porch, his coat pressed and spotless. The man ran a hand across his jaw and wandered across the yard to the rose bushes, a flurry of blooms decorating the thorny canes.

  Ruby tucked her braid behind her back, regretting not fixing her hair before coming outside. The arbor hid her from view, but she didn’t relish the awkward encounter if he discovered her spying. She stood and shook out her wrap, folding it over one arm and balancing her cup in the other. Stepping out from under the arbor, she crossed the wet patch of grass to join him.

  He glanced up, brows raised. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

  “Just enjoying a quiet moment before our day.”

  “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.” Gerald turned back to the roses. “Robert and Abby are mooning at each other across the kitchen table. I decided to make myself scarce.”

  Ruby ran her finger across the rim of the teacup. “It must be odd for you, having all of these guests in your home.”

  “I’m growing accustomed to it. There are certain advantages.” He pulled a folding knife from his pocket and deadheaded a few of the spent blossoms. “We could get an early start this morning, if you like. Maybe visit the old Civil War post at Fort Point. You can look out across the Golden Gate, see the entrance to the bay.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “It’s a lovely day for a drive. Usually our summers are foggy. God must be blessing your stay with fine weather.”

  The teasing lilt in his voice grated at Ruby’s ears. He thinks I’ll refuse because of the drive. She swallowed and lifted her chin. “Sounds delightful. Just let me get a scarf to keep my hat in place. I’d hate to lose another. Perhaps you might give me another lesson while we’re there.”

  Gerald hooked his fingers along the top edge of his vest. “Considering how the road hugs the cliff face, I think it might be best if I stayed in the driver’s seat on this trip. But this weekend we could make another attempt.

  Ruby bit her lip. In the span of a few minutes, she’d volunteered for two driving outings. Looked like she’d need those goggles for certain. “I’ll finish getting ready.” She turned toward the house, swigging the last mouthful of tea as she walked, the brew bitter on her tongue.

  * * *

  Gerald swallowed a chuckle, shaking his head.

  The woman’s braid swung between her shoulder blades as she hurried across the yard. He couldn’t help tracing the braid’s path down her back with his eyes, settling on the curve of her hips before tearing his gaze away. Such fixations would only get him into trouble.

  Of course, if it were only her beauty, he’d have no difficulties. There were plenty of attractive women in San Francisco. But they didn’t also have a heart for service, a thirst for medical knowledge, a determined spirit, and a gentle touch with patients. No, Ruby, unfortunately, had it all. She also had a protective brother.

  Gerald turned his attention back to the garden. His mother babied the bushes, and she was rewarded with rich blossoms continuing late into the fall. One particular rose garnered his interest, the orange-red petals the same hue as Ruby’s hair. Sweet scented and laced with thorns—like every woman he’d known. He cut a single bud and pinched the prickly stem between his fingertips with care.

  Gerald returned to the kitchen, placing the bloom in a vase on the windowsill.

  “Lovely rose.” Abby glanced up from the breakfast table, smiling. “Fortune’s Double Yellow, right?”

  He chuckled. “It’s a rose. You’ll have to ask my mother about the variety.”

  “I’m certain. They’re a favorite of mine. Usually the blooms are a little more pink. We had some in San Jose. Papa grew them from a cutting Aunt Mae brought us.”

  “She had several plants moved when she came to live here. It might have been one of these. You and my mother are two of a kind, Abby.” He strolled to her side, eyeing the pastries on the table. “You inherited her love for growing things.”

  “From her and from Papa.” She dabbed the napkin against her lips.

  Robert grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Both sides of the family. That explains it.”

  She examined her fingers. “Yes, it explains why I always have dirt under my nails.”

  Robert took her hand, pulling it to the tabletop. “It explains why everything you touch blossoms.”

  Gerald turned his back so the couple wouldn’t see his eyes roll. “I’m on way to the Presidio today, Robert. Yo
u’re certain you can manage without Ruby? She’s agreed to accompany me.”

  “Yes, fine. I’m going to make some adjustments to the equipment and run a few tests. Nurse Maguire will be covering the patients.”

  Gerald snagged an apple for his pocket before hurrying to the study for his medical bag. Opening the glass-fronted case, he examined the various medications he kept on-hand for visitations. The army had been proactive in establishing sanitary conditions throughout the refugee camps, but he’d heard rumor of illness spreading. Gerald rifled through his supplies, adding small amounts of various remedies to the leather case in addition to the iodine, bandages, instruments, and antiseptic.

  He lifted his head as footsteps sounded on the front stairs.

  Ruby appeared in the doorway, her face framed by a silver and blue scarf tied over her head and knotted under her chin.

  “What do you think? Will this keep my hat safe?”

  Gerald swallowed and managed a nod.

  She smiled, one brow lifting. “Is there anything I can help you prepare before we leave?”

  He glanced back at the gaping mouth of the medical bag, studying the even row of vials and bandages. What had he been looking for? He ran a hand across the items, checking them off one by one. “No, I believe I have everything. It’s difficult to know what we might need. When the quake first happened, we were facing trauma casualties. Now it’s anyone’s guess. Of course, the clinic is well stocked.”

  Ruby cocked her head. “I think it’s admirable you take time away from your practice to serve in the camps.”

  Gerald snapped the lid closed. “Everyone’s doing what they can. The city could have dissolved into chaos, but I witnessed countless cases of people helping each other survive regardless of their social standing. Did Robert tell you how he and Abby helped deliver a baby the day after the earthquake?”

  She settled her hands on her hips. “No. The scamp’s hardly told me anything.”

  He hoisted the bag from the desk. “It was a harrowing week. He was lucky to survive after the ceiling fell in on him at the hospital.”

  “The ceiling?” Her head jerked upward. “I think my brother has kept quite a bit from us.”

  “He was one of the lucky ones.” Gerald gestured for Ruby to precede him through the door as they moved into the hall. “We witnessed many casualties during those days.” He pushed away the horrific images clamoring for attention in his memory. Gerald reached for his brown derby, setting the valise on the Oriental rug. “Serving the displaced is my way of showing gratitude to God for sparing my family and my home.”

  Ruby tightened her wrap. “I may not have been here during the disaster, but I certainly want to do my part.”

  14

  Ruby locked her grip on the edge of the automobile’s seat, her heart drumming out of control. The wind tugged at her hat’s brim, fluttering the scarf’s gauzy material like the tail of a kite.

  “Isn’t the view splendid?” Gerald glanced toward her.

  Her stomach tightened. “Watch the road.” She licked her lips, the air drying them instantly. “Please?”

  He laughed, turning back to face the front. “I promise. But you need to look around. You’re missing the glorious scenery. I’ll watch our path.”

  Ruby blinked, unwilling to release her grip even to wipe the dust from her lashes. A few feet to the side, the roadway ended at the edge of a cliff, dropping a sheer distance into the foaming waves below. Her stomach churned with the waves as she scooted closer to Gerald, swinging her attention back to the front. “Must you drive so near to the edge?”

  He patted her arm. “For the third time, we’re not close. I’m practically driving down the center of the road.”

  Ruby flung off his hand. “Keep that on the wheel. What if something happens?”

  Gerald sighed. “You’re not enjoying this. Not even a little bit?” The corners of his mouth drooped, like a child whose gift had been spurned.

  A jab pierced her heart. “The view is lovely. I’m just having a little trouble appreciating the landscape at this breakneck pace.”

  He eased off the throttle, the breeze slackening. “I didn’t think it was overly hurried, but I can slow further if you would be more comfortable.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Ruby peeled her fingers from the seat and folded them, clenched, in her lap. Her heart slowing, she allowed her gaze to wander out over the bay, the morning sun glittering along the tops of the waves. Gulls wheeled over the swells, their white, feathered bodies glowing in the light.

  “Is this better?”

  Ruby reached up to push back the scarf impeding her view of the water. “Much. Thank you.”

  Gerald guided the car into a turnout and the wheels rolled to a stop, pointing toward the waterway. He climbed out of the vehicle and wandered around to her side. “There’s a lovely outlook here. Perhaps you’d enjoy the experience more if your feet were on solid ground.” He held out a hand.

  Ruby followed Gerald to a grassy bluff overlooking a sprawling brick fortress and the water below. Matching headlands rose on the far shore. Her heart still thrummed, but the vise grip of tension around her chest eased. “Is this the Fort Point you mentioned earlier?”

  “Yes. It was built during the Civil War to protect San Francisco. The waterway down there is the Golden Gate, it connects the Bay to the Pacific.” He smiled. “It’s nice we can see everything this morning. The area’s often fogged in.”

  “It’s lovely.”

  “I’m glad I had the honor of showing it to you.”

  She turned, studying the man’s lanky form as he leaned against an iron bench. He looked more relaxed than any time she’d seen him. “Do you come out here often?”

  He tipped his head. “Often enough. It’s a nice respite from the hospital. I find the scope of the vista helps me persevere when melancholy threatens.”

  The wind tugged at her skirt. “What do you mean?”

  He reached up and pulled off his derby, the sun illuminating the golden strands in his hair. “When I start asking the unanswerable questions—like after losing a patient, or when I was overwhelmed with the enormity of the disaster.” He stared off toward the strait. “The quiet of this place reminds me God is in control. He’s more powerful than my problems. I can find rest when I release all my frustrations to Him.”

  She glanced toward the tumultuous waters—anything but restful. “But you don’t receive answers to any of your questions.”

  Gerald chuckled. “Not usually. But God doesn’t owe me answers. My job is to trust. And since I know He’s still on the job, I can do so.”

  A tendril curled around her heart. She’d spent the past year clutching her life together with her fingertips. Trust seemed a foreign concept. “How do you know?” Her voice quavered.

  He pushed away from the bench and stepped behind her. “You see how the water rushes past the headlands?” His arm brushed against her shoulder as he pointed to the far side of the strait.

  She nodded, staring out at the vista.

  “Let’s say you’re the water. You’re rushing back and forth with the tides—from the Bay to the ocean, splashing against the rocks, whipped by the winds, in constant motion and turmoil.” He lowered his hand, resting a palm on her shoulder.

  The warmth of his fingers sent a rush of shivers through her. “Yes?”

  “Some days you’re storm-tossed, some days you’re quiet and calm. No day is ever exactly the same.” Gerald slid his hand down her arm and gave it a quick squeeze before lifting his hand away. “God is the headland. Strong and sturdy. Reliable. Even when the quake shook the ground, the hills didn’t fall into the waves. My father used to quote a psalm, “He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defense; I shall not be greatly moved.”

  Ruby took a few steps, creating a comfortable distance between them. She crossed both arms in front of her, wrapping them tight around her middle. Gerald may have dealt with loss and grief, but God had never taken his plans and toss
ed them aside like so much discarded rubbish. She blinked back tears, sudden images of Charlie’s broken body lurching into her memory. Ruby’s gaze roamed the wind-swept strait, whitecaps topping each tiny wave. For a brief moment, her stomach lifted, as if tossed on the surf. The past two years of her life had been one unending storm. Gerald could put his trust in the strength of the hills. She intended to build a raft and start paddling.

  15

  Ruby ran careful fingers through the girl’s hair. No sign of head lice. A stitch of tension loosened from her shoulders. Who knew what kind of vermin ran in these camps?

  The child’s fine blonde curls surrounded rosy chipmunk cheeks. She swiped a small hand across her runny nose before dissolving into another batch of barky coughs. Poor thing sounded like Otto when the postman arrived.

  Gerald finished with his patient, shaking the older man’s hand and walking him to the door of the small medical clinic. He wandered over to Ruby’s side. “How’s our littlest one?”

  Ruby’s father had always encouraged her to offer opinions, but over the years she’d learned most doctors were too arrogant to accept them. Was Gerald the same? “It doesn’t sound like flu or pneumonia.” She lifted her chin. “I believe it’s more likely she’s asthmatic.”

  Gerald nodded and pulled a stethoscope from his inside pocket. “We’ve seen quite a bit since the fires.” He turned to the young mother. “Have you given her any paregoric?”

  The woman shook her head, lifting a squirming baby higher on her hip. “We’ve come three times, but they’ve never given her anything.”

  He pressed the stethoscope bell to the girl’s back and lowered himself to her eye level. “Okay, sweetie. Do you know how to blow out a candle?”

  The girl nodded, tugging at the fraying hem of her pinafore.

  Gerald gestured for Ruby to step closer and reached for her hand.