The Doctor's Newfound Family

To his surprise, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and addressed him boldly. “Thank you for your efforts on behalf of my parents, Doctor. I left home in a rush and neglected my reticule but perhaps my father’s purse contains enough to satisfy your fee.” She paused briefly then added, “Unless he has been robbed.”

“Do you think that’s what led to this?”

“Of course,” she replied, yet there was something odd in her expression. Something that alerted the doctor to the possibility that she was hiding something.

“Would you like me to help you make final arrangements?” Taylor asked.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Sara Beth answered. “I’m sure Mr. Warner can assist me.”

“Well, please accept my condolences. If there is anything I can do for you in the future, feel free to call upon me. My office is located at the corner of California and Montgomery streets, above the Wells Fargo & Co. office.” He withdrew a card from his vest pocket and presented it to her. “My name is Taylor Hayward.”

For a brief moment, he thought she might refuse to take the card. Then, she pocketed it without comment.

The doctor turned to Abe Warner. “Can you handle everything in here for now?”

“We’ll be fine.” The apple-cheeked old man gave a wistful smile. “If I can manage my mischievous monkeys and all the birds and other critters in here, a few little boys won’t cause me no trouble.”

Taylor hoped Abe was right. He had an unsettled feeling about leaving the children in the elderly man’s care, yet it looked as if their sister was old enough and wise enough to eventually provide a stable home for them.

She was an extraordinary young woman, he mused. Her fortitude in the face of disaster was not only unusual, it was inspiring. Most women he had encountered, of any age, were flighty and prone to getting the vapors over the littlest fright or disappointment. Miss Sara Beth Reese had fainted, yes, but for good reason. And she had quickly pulled herself together and regained her sensibilities in a way that truly amazed him.

Polite society required that he keep his distance unless summoned, of course, but he would nevertheless try to stay abreast of the little family’s circumstances. Taylor had had the benefit of the support of both his parents all his life and he couldn’t imagine how he’d have managed without his father’s wise counsel and his mother’s tempering gentleness and abiding Christian faith.

He glanced back at the Reese children as he stepped outside. They had gathered around their big sister and were clinging to her as if she were the only lifeline from a sinking ship. He hoped—and prayed—that that was not so. There were many opportunities in San Francisco these days, but there were also many pitfalls and dangers, especially for a young, pretty woman with no family elders to advise and cosset her.

As Sara Beth comforted the boys and dried their eyes, she wondered why she, too, was not weeping. She wanted to cry but the tears would not come. Perhaps that was because she still could not force herself to believe her mama and papa were gone forever. Oh, she believed in heaven. That wasn’t the problem. Her question was how a benevolent Heavenly Father could have allowed her and the boys to be left so alone.

“I shall need to return home soon,” she told Abe Warner. “Will you escort us?”

“I’d be obliged,” he said, “but I can’t leave my store with all these goings-on outside. There’ll be the law to deal with and then—”

“Will you then arrange for a proper funeral?” Sara Beth asked. “I wouldn’t know how to begin.”

“Of course, of course. Your pastor should be notified, too. What church do you attend?”

“First Congregational,” she said. “At least, Mama and I went and took the boys. Papa never seemed to have the time. He was always working.”

“That reminds me,” Abe said, frowning. “You’ll need to make sure that that workshop of his is secure. Lock it up good and tight, if you know what I mean. There’ll have to be an accounting and you wouldn’t want to come up short.”

“I don’t know a thing about that, either,” Sara Beth said. “Papa brought the gold dust samples home and assayed them all by himself. None of us were permitted to even watch from outside a window. What shall I do?”

“Leave everything just as it sits,” Abe advised. “Whoever assigned him to do the assay work will surely contact you and make further arrangements.” He shook his head pensively. “Always did seem a mite reckless to me, trusting outsiders to handle the dust—even a little of it. Then again, they say there wasn’t room for the entire operation under one roof at the mint yet, and your papa was an honest man. He’d had that job ever since Moffat and Company sold to Curtis and Ward, hadn’t he?”

“I—I think so.” She rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry, Mr. Warner. I can’t seem to concentrate at the moment.”

“It’s the shock, I reckon. You’re right about needin’ to get on home and take it easy. I’ll arrange for someone to drive you.”

“No, no. We can walk. I don’t have the price of a private hack and I don’t know when I’d be able to repay you.”

“There’s someone close by who has his own buggy. Never you fear. He won’t charge a penny.”

“But—”

“No argument, girl. I think he’s still outside. I’ll go talk to him and be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Mathias tugged on her skirt to get her attention. “Are we goin’ home, Sara Beth?”

“Yes, dear. As soon as we can.”

“What about…?” His lower lip began to quiver as he gazed out the open door.

“Mr. Warner will take care of things for us here,” she said, realizing that her real problems were only just beginning. “We need to get on home. I’ll fix some nice pancakes. You’ll feel better after you eat.”

Although she knew that it now fell to her to hold the family together, she had absolutely no idea how she was going to accomplish that feat.

Yes, she knew how to keep house and do the same things her mother had always done, such as sew and prepare meals.

But those were the least of her worries, weren’t they? With Papa gone, who would support them? Who would bring in the wages they’d need to survive, let alone flourish as they had been? Sara Beth had had only one serious suitor in the past year and repeatedly rejected his offers of marriage, with her mother’s blessing.

Perhaps that was why Mama had specifically mentioned the Ladies’ Protection and Relief Society, Sara Beth reminded herself. The benevolent organization had begun as a part of her home church and she already knew many of the members. Mama herself had once worked for some of those dear ladies as a seamstress, until she’d met and married Papa.

Are my skills with needle and thread sufficient to do the same? she wondered. Was there a chance she might find the kind of gainful employment that had once kept her and her widowed mother off the streets? She prayed so. For if not, she and her brothers were going to be in trouble. And soon.

Abe found the young doctor in the alley, awaiting the arrival of the sheriff. “You bring your buggy, Taylor?”

“Yes. I was just coming in from a call outside town so I already had the horse in harness. I wouldn’t have stopped to hitch up otherwise.”

“Good. I’ve got a favor to ask. Miss Sara Beth and her brothers need a ride home. I’d take ’em myself but I don’t dare leave my emporium until the furor dies down a bit more. I figure I might as well open the bar and take care of the thirsty curiosity-seekers, too.”

The doctor chuckled wryly. “That’s what I’d have expected, you old reprobate. Don’t you know that rotgut is bad for you?”

“It’s a darned sight safer than the water we get from the water wagons,” Abe countered. “That stuff’s clear green sometimes, especially come summer.”

“I can’t argue with you there,” Taylor replied. “All right. I’ll bring my horse around and wait while you fetch the Reese children.”

“One of ’em ain’t exactly a child, if you get my drift. You okay with that?”

“I’m a doctor,” Taylor said. “And we’ll have the boys with us as chaperones. As long as Miss Sara Beth doesn’t mind riding with me, I’m sure no one else will think twice about it.”

The old man snorted cynically. “If you say so. Just keep your interest professional, you hear?”

“Have you taken it upon yourself to look out for the young lady’s honor?”

“I wish I could,” Abe answered, sobering. “An old codger like me is no good example for those boys, nor a fitting companion for a young woman of Sara Beth’s upbringing.”

“What do you think she’ll do?”

Abe shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Does she have grandparents? Aunts and uncles?”

“None, far as I know, although in a case like this folks sometimes crawl out of the woodwork lookin’ for a piece of the inheritance.”

“Reese had money?”

“I reckon. They live in a pretty nice two-story house over on Pike. You’ll see when you drive ’em home. Ol’ Robert worked for the mint for a couple of years before he and another fella went into the assay business for themselves.”

“Then that’s good, right?”

“I ain’t sure. Robert used to take lots of samples home with him. It was his job to double-check the official assay and he didn’t like to work with a lot of other people watching. All I can see is trouble ahead.”

“How so?”

“Can’t say for certain. It just seems to me that if anybody was to take a notion to help himself to some of that gold dust, now’s the time he’d prob’ly do it. Fetch the buggy. I’ll go get your passengers.”

Taylor mulled over the old man’s opinions and concerns as he led his horse and compact rig into the alley. He supposed he should be thankful for the opportunity to help the orphaned children, but he had to admit that there was more to his interest than mere altruism.

Something about the lost look in Miss Sara Beth’s eyes had touched him deeply, irrevocably. In an instant he had come to care about her far more than the circumstances called for. True, she was strong-willed, but she also reminded him of a lost sheep being circled by a pack of ravenous wolves. Given what Abe knew about the whole situation, it was little wonder the elderly man felt a fatherly bent toward the girl.

Taylor huffed and shook his head as his conscience kicked him in the gut. His personal feelings were far from paternal in regard to the lovely young woman. Her hair was the rich colors of autumn, spun into silk. And her eyes were jade gems, sparkling with the very flecks of gold her father had once tested. It was improper of him to notice such things, yet he had.

His outward behavior, of course, would always remain above reproach. He would never stoop to taking advantage of a woman, especially not one as innocent and needy as Miss Reese. He would, however, be more vigilant on her behalf than he would any of his other patients.

Taylor could already tell it was not going to be enough to simply check on her well-being via others. He was going to take a personal interest in the situation. There was no getting around it, no talking himself out of it.

As far as he was concerned, divine providence had placed him in this city on this night and had led him to make these particular acquaintances. It was therefore his duty to do all he could to help—with no thought of gain.

He had not become a doctor in order to get rich; he had chosen his profession because he truly wanted to benefit mankind. If he had wanted a more lucrative career, he would have followed in his father’s footsteps and become a lawyer, or in his grandfather’s as a judge.

Instead, he had studied medicine for nearly a year under the best minds at Massachusetts General Hospital, then had apprenticed for a while before he’d bid his family goodbye and headed west to practice.

More than half the time he wasn’t remunerated for his efforts, and if he was, payment was likely to be a sack of potatoes or mealy flour or an occasional scrawny chicken. He had thought, with the discovery of gold and San Francisco’s burgeoning economy, he’d easily find plenty of wealthy patients. Instead, he’d encountered more poverty and need than he’d imagined possible.

That was why he’d begun to donate his services at places like the city’s two major orphan asylums and had been so adamant in his insistence that San Francisco needed a care facility devoted solely to the illnesses of children. As it stood now, the poor little things who could not be tended at home were carted off to the city and county hospitals, where they were then exposed to all sorts of nasty diseases and were in the constant presence of morbidity.

His horse nickered, disturbing his musings. Taylor looked up to see the approach of his passengers. He tipped his bowler to them. “Are you ready to go?”

Spine straight, shoulders squared beneath her fitted woolen coat, Sara Beth nodded. “Yes. Thank you, Dr. Hayward. If you will assist me, then hand me Josiah, I would be much obliged.”

It worried Taylor to see her so apparently in control of her emotions. The boys seemed a bit sniffly, as children were wont to be anyway, but there wasn’t a sign of tears in their sister’s eyes.

As he offered his hand, he felt a strange hardness press into his palm. Pausing, he turned her hand over and saw what looked like the end of a smooth, thin stick. His puzzled glance caused her to falter ever so slightly.

“Oh. Forgive me,” Sara Beth said, withdrawing the needle and displaying it for him with a trembling hand. “As I was leaving home I thought I might need some method of protection so I brought along one of Mother’s knitting needles. I had forgotten about it until now.”

“I hardly consider a sliver of bone a suitable defensive weapon,” Taylor said. “You could have been hurt walking these streets alone at night.”

He saw her countenance darken, her expression close. “Yes,” she said, taking the baby and settling him in her lap where she could hold him close. “I might have been shot and killed, mightn’t I?”

Without further comment he lifted the older boys into the crowded buggy, squeezed himself onto the single seat and took up the reins.

Perhaps he had overstepped propriety in his concern for the young woman, Taylor reasoned, but someone had to tell her she had behaved in a most foolish manner. If that decision to follow her parents into the dangers of the night was typical behavior, she wasn’t nearly as mature and level-headed as he’d first thought. Nor was she likely to be able to properly care for what remained of her family by herself.

Chapter Three

The steady, rhythmic echo of the horse’s hooves on the cobblestone and brick-paved streets provided a soothing tempo until they had proceeded far enough from the busiest areas of the city to encounter hard-packed dirt dotted with muddy potholes.

To Sara Beth’s relief, all the younger children had nodded off before the doctor’s buggy had reached the portion of Pike Street where their home stood.

“This is it,” she said, stifling a sigh and pointing. “That two-story, gray clapboard with the double porches. You can let us off in front.”

As the doctor climbed down to hitch his horse to a cast-iron ring, he paused. Tensing, he held up his hand to stop her instead of continuing around to help her disembark. “Wait. Stay there.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I think I see someone on your porch.”

“That’s silly. There can’t be. Why would anyone…?” Peering at the house, she realized he was right. There was someone on her front porch. And another man on the upstairs porch that mirrored the structure at ground level. Judging by their shadowy forms, both men were carrying rifles.

Sara Beth remained in the buggy as she cupped her hands around her mouth and called out, “Who are you? What do you want?”

The gunman on the lower porch stepped off and started along the boarded walkway toward her. There was no mistaking the menace in his movements. She might have assumed she was overreacting but the buggy horse also seemed nervous, almost unseating her when it suddenly lurched backward to the end of its tether and stamped its hooves.

The man paused halfway to the street and struck a stalwart pose, his boots planted solidly apart, his rifle spanning his chest. “This house is off-limits,” he said. “Sheriff’s orders.”

“But that’s impossible. I live here,” Sara Beth insisted.

“Not any more you don’t. This property is sealed. No one can come or go,” the guard replied.

“That’s ridiculous. My father, Robert Reese, is the owner.” The gunman’s cynical chuckle chilled her to the bone.

“That’s what you think, little lady. I have it on good authority that this property belongs to the U.S. government now.”

“Who told you that? Who sent you?”

“I get my orders from Sheriff Scannell, like I said.”

Sara Beth was not about to concede defeat. “Where did he get that authority?”

“From Judge Norton, I reckon.”

The doctor had gotten back into his buggy and was again taking up the reins when Sara Beth noticed him. “What are you doing? I’m not going anywhere. This is my home and I intend to claim it.”

“Over their objection?” he asked. “I think that would be more than unwise, miss. I think it would be suicide.”

“I’m not afraid of them, even if you are.”

“Very noble, I’m sure. However, I have only a pistol and you are armed with a knitting needle. How do you propose we overwhelm at least two men with rifles and sidearms?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice rose. “They’re in the wrong. We can’t simply give in to such unfairness.”

“We can retreat to fight another day,” he said. “Hang on.” He gave the lines a snap and the horse took off smartly, pushing Sara Beth back against the padded seat in spite of her efforts to lean forward.

She bit her lower lip and fought a swelling feeling of exasperation and powerlessness. This couldn’t be happening! Everything she and her family owned was locked up in that house. She didn’t even have a hairbrush or a change of clothing for herself or for the boys.

The doctor slowed the horse’s pace when they were several blocks away. “Where to?” he asked.

“What?” She blinked rapidly to quell her tears of frustration.

“I can’t very well take you home with me and I don’t think the Cobweb Palace is a fit place, either. Do you have friends or family you could stay with until we get this mess sorted out?”

She noted his use of the pronoun “we,” but chose to ignore the implication. “I have no family in San Francisco and Mother’s friends are mostly affiliated with the Ladies’ Protection and Relief Society.”

Sighing, she said, “I had hoped to delay this decision, but I suppose I have no choice. We shall have to go straight to their orphan asylum. Do you know where it’s located?”

She was relieved when he told her that he did. However, when he added, “I’ve had the sad duty of treating some of those poor little ones,” her spirits plummeted. She and her brothers were now on a totally different social stratum, weren’t they? In a matter of hours they had gone from being part of a middle-class family to being destitute, just like the dirty street urchins who begged along the piers and alleys down by the wharf.

Raising her chin and closing her eyes, Sara Beth vowed that as long as she had breath in her body, her remaining family would never have to beg. She would work somewhere, do something that generated an honest living, no matter how meager, God willing.

And, please Lord, show me how to get our house and belongings back, too, she prayed silently. She didn’t know how she’d manage to accomplish that, but she would not give up trying, no matter what.

There was no need to hurry the horse along once they were in the clear, Taylor concluded. It was nearly morning. Although the city would soon be bustling with its usual daytime activities, there was probably at least an hour more before the keepers of the orphanage would rise and begin to prepare the first meal of the day.

Mulling over the plight of his passengers made him so angry he could barely contain his ire. It was fraud and abuses of the law such as these that had brought about the formation of the Vigilance Committee in the first place. The ballot boxes had been rigged, the honest votes nullified by internal corruption and the offices such as judge and sheriff sold to the highest bidders. Little wonder someone in power had had no trouble getting quick control of the Reese home and laboratory.

His own father and grandfather would have been astounded to hear of the despotism rampant in the city. Reform was urgently needed. And as far as he was concerned, men like him were charged, by their own innate sense of honor, to rise up and facilitate a change.

That was why he had joined the Vigilance Committee and why he was still an active member of the widespread secret society. He might not have been able to help Miss Sara Beth immediately, but he would help her. Someone was going to pay for turning her and her little brothers out into the night. He was going to see to it.

The horse ambled along the Montgomery block of hotels and up Sacramento Street past the four-story brick Rail Road House, a hotel that boasted accommodations for up to two hundred persons at one time, clean bedding and fresh water. The little figure of a locomotive atop its weather vane was said to anticipate San Francisco’s eventual joining with the rest of the States by rail.

Taylor glanced at Sara Beth as he guided his horse up California Street and onto the sweeping, tree-lined drive that led to the orphanage. The building had been, and still was, a palatial private home, although living quarters for the host family were separate from the housing for the orphans and live-in staff. Ella McNeil, the matron, watched over her charges and managed the house with an iron hand. Unlike the Reese children, many of the other orphans had been living on the streets, unsupervised, for months or even years and were therefore in dire need of discipline and moral guidance.

“Miss?” Taylor said quietly. “We’re here.”

Sara Beth opened her eyes and nodded. “I know. I haven’t been asleep.”

“Would you like me to come in with you?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind. I can manage Josiah, but I can’t carry them all. And the older boys may be upset when they realize where we are.”

“I understand.”

He climbed down and circled the buggy to assist her.

She passed him Josiah, then gently woke Mathias and Luke. “We need to get out here, boys.”

Mathias rubbed his fists over his eyes and yawned. “Are we home?”

“Not exactly,” Sara Beth said. “We’ll be staying here for a bit while we get Papa’s affairs settled.”

Luke leaned past him to look. “What are we doing here? Where are we?”

“I wanna go home,” Mathias began to wail.

“Give him to me,” the doctor said. “I’ll handle him. You, too, Luke.” He held out his arms and took the boys from her one at a time, setting all but Josiah on the ground at his feet and offering Sara Beth his free hand.

When she placed her smaller, icy fingers in his, he felt an unexpected pang of pity. That would never do. A proud woman like her would surely take offense if she even suspected that he was feeling sorry for her.

She faltered once with a little stumble, causing him to reach to cup her elbow.

“I’m fine, thank you. I can manage,” she said, righting herself and marching proudly up to the ornate front door of the stone-walled mansion. She rapped with the brass knocker and waited.

When the door swung open and the matron saw her, she greeted her with open arms. “Oh, darlin’, I heard what happened. It’s awful. Plum awful. You come right in and make yourself at home. We’re proud to have you.”

As Taylor watched, the stalwart young woman became a child again. Catching back a sob, she fell into Mrs. McNeil’s ample embrace. Taylor could see her shoulders shaking with silent weeping as the older woman patted her on the back. He didn’t want her to suffer, but he knew that the sooner she began to properly grieve her enormous loss, the sooner she’d recover.