Chapter 21
San Francisco, California
Sam’s gaze fell on me as we made our way up Clay Street.
He had hired a couple of young men to help carry our bags from the ferry to an assayer’s office opposite Sam’s new hotel.
The assayer would evaluate the gold and then process it into ingots, bars of the precious metal, before we would take them to the Wells Fargo bank.
He didn’t inquire about my quiet mood as we walked.
Despite the success at finding gold and how excited I was to get it in the bank, I couldn’t shake the sadness I felt about Spencer.
It was one thing to withhold information about his work with the feds—another to deceive me into participating.
Had he truly thought I would go along with his plan?
My emotions escalated every time I thought about it.
San Francisco was just as loud, chaotic, and rough as it had been when we’d left three weeks ago, but there were dozens of new buildings and several new ships anchored in the harbor. Many canvas buildings had been replaced with wooden ones, and there were even a few new iron houses.
I couldn’t wait to see Hazel, Father, and Johnnie and make sure they were safe.
They would expect us any day, and I hoped they’d be at the new hotel, waiting.
So many things could have gone wrong while we were away.
I hadn’t wanted to think about it too much while we were in Downieville, but the closer we came to Portsmouth Square, the more real the threat felt.
“Where’d you find the gold?” one of the young men asked, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Is there more?”
Sam didn’t respond to the question because we had agreed not to share the location. Even though William Downie was already on his way to Downieville, word wasn’t meant to get out until he shared his discovery. We couldn’t and wouldn’t say anything before then.
“He’s not saying.” The other man shook his head, sweat dripping down his temples. “Wants to go back and get more for himself.”
We continued up the hill as wind pushed against us and sand blew in my face. I longed for a nice, warm bath but wasn’t sure when I would get one.
When we finally reached Portsmouth Square, I paused to take several deep breaths. My legs were burning from the climb, and my feet were still tender from the blisters. Sam’s hotel stood proud across from Clay Street, though it didn’t look like much work had been done on the outside since we’d left.
Sam took in his hotel, as well, and I saw the confusion on his face. He had commissioned several men to help Paddy while we were gone and had hoped it would be ready to open when we returned.
I wanted to run across the square to check on Father and Hazel, but I also wanted to hear what the assayer had to say about our gold.
Thankfully, there were no customers in the office when we entered. Mr. Frederick Kohler, the assayer, sat at his desk in the corner of the room, writing vigorously in a ledger. He glanced up and nodded a greeting as Sam and the young men set the bags on the counter.
After Sam paid the men, they left the office, and we turned to Mr. Kohler.
“How may I help you?” he asked.
“We’d like to have you process our gold,” Sam said, nodding at the bags.
Mr. Kohler opened the first bag and glanced inside, his eyebrows coming up in surprise. “That’s a lot of gold.”
“We had a good run.”
“I’d say so.” Mr. Kohler pulled a form out from under the counter and dipped a pen in the ink pot.
He asked Sam several questions, including the location where the gold had been found.
Since an assayer was a trusted and confidential representative, Sam was able to tell him where we’d located it.
The information would not be shared publicly.
“Let’s weigh this and see what we have here.” Mr. Kohler took several minutes to weigh the crude gold, making marks on his paper, tallying numbers, making corrections, and then adding more.
Sam and I stood silently until he was done.
When he finished, he came back to the counter and smiled. “Your gold weighs six thousand six hundred and five troy ounces, or just over four hundred and fifty-six pounds.”
My eyebrows rose with surprise, since that was more than Sam had estimated. “How much is it worth?”
“After subtracting our fee,” he said, “you’re looking at about one hundred and thirty thousand dollars, ma’am.”
It was an astronomical amount of money in 1849, especially if we had been anywhere but San Francisco. Even in California, it was a lot. How much more would it be in 1929? Hope and relief overwhelmed me.
“When can you have it ready for us?” Sam asked.
“This time tomorrow. I’ll give you your receipt, and you can return at your convenience.”
“Thank you.” Sam accepted the piece of paper, and we left.
My excitement knew no bounds as we stood outside the office, grinning at each other. I wanted to throw myself into his arms, to hug him and congratulate him and thank him, but I refrained, not wanting to cause tongues to wag.
Portsmouth Square was a far cry from Sydney Town, and people would notice and care if I broke the rules of propriety here.
“Is it safe to leave the gold with him?” I finally asked, needing to say something to release my pent-up energy.
“Safest place next to a bank,” he said. “The assayer’s word is as good as gold, as they say.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I had worried so much about getting the gold back to San Francisco, and though it had been physically grueling, we had encountered no real difficulties or threats except my blisters. It seemed too good to be true, making me feel a little uneasy.
We didn’t even need to discuss where we planned to go next as we made our way across the large square toward Sam’s hotel.
People glanced in our direction, but no one seemed too concerned about Sam today.
Their attention was on me.
I was used to being watched, but this felt different.
It wasn’t curiosity I saw in their eyes, but judgment, especially from a group of three women I’d never met before.
They stood outside the grocer’s, all dressed modestly in gingham and bonnets.
I smiled, excited to see women who might become friends, but they turned their backs on me.
“Do you know those women?” I asked Sam, surprised and hurt a little by their obvious snubbing.
He continued forward, though he must have seen them because he said, “One of them is married to the bank president at Wells Fargo. I’ve seen the others before, but I don’t know who they are.”
“So they’re not new to San Francisco?”
“At least not since we left.”
We continued to Sam’s hotel, but when he put his hand on the doorknob, he paused, his gaze finding mine. “Ally.”
I swallowed the nerves that fluttered up my throat. “Yes?”
“These past few weeks . . .” He let the sentence trail off, but from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, I knew what he meant. “I hate that it’s ending.”
“I do, too.”
“If you stay . . .” His words lingered, as if he wasn’t sure he should complete the thought.
“If I stay?” I was holding my breath.
He cleared his throat. “I just hope you do.”
After he opened the door, he put his hand on my lower back as I passed by, following me into the hotel. My heart felt like it could explode within me, and I wanted to press closer to him.
I’d had a lot of time to think about my two lives over the past week.
I knew exactly what to expect from 1929.
My life would be more of the same. Struggling to keep Bennett Studios afloat, even with an influx of money, perhaps acting in movies until I was too old or no longer drew audiences.
Living in an overpopulated city, unable to afford more than the simple necessities of life.
Yet I would be surrounded by my loving, supportive, and understanding family.
Life in 1849 wouldn’t be so predictable.
It was wild and uncertain, perhaps filled with more hardships but also with more possibilities.
And I had Father and Hazel—and possibly Sam and Johnnie.
The picture that formed in my head flooded my heart with unexpected warmth.
A little cabin near the Yuba River, coffee in the mornings with Sam, days filled with meaningful work, maybe more children.
And then evenings with Sam, like those we’d spent on the trail, talking about our days, dreaming about our future, sharing our ideas and our uncertainties.
Life was hard and full of struggles, but it was also beautiful and colored with blessings.
I could think of no person who had weathered the good and the bad like Sam Kendal.
To stand next to a man like that as I walked through life would be an honor.
But the truth dashed against me like a tidal wave.
I couldn’t have any of it.
If I wanted to save Sam, I would have to forfeit my life here.
Despair quickly replaced the hope I’d felt, shading the picture in my mind with doubt and uncertainty. Surely, there had to be a way forward. Why would God dangle this future before me, only to tear it away?
“What’s wrong?” Sam stopped in the main hall, his voice filled with concern.
I wanted to smile, to reassure him, but I was too overcome with my emotions. I had to distract us both, so I asked, “Is anyone here?”
Nothing had changed since the last time we’d been there. I looked through the stud walls toward the back of the hotel and could see all the way through.
“Ally?” Father asked from somewhere in the building. “Is that you?”
“It’s me!”
“Ally!” Hazel appeared from around a corner, running toward me. Her hair was uncombed, and her face was dirty, but she looked happy and healthy.
“My darling,” I said, crouching down as I held out my arms.