Chapter 27 #2
I opened the back door and found Hazel and Johnnie sitting at the table, eating their breakfast. They both looked up at me with smiles, but when Sam walked in behind me, Hazel’s smile fell, and her eyes grew wide.
“My kitty!” she cheered as she jumped up from the table. “You found her!”
She didn’t wait and took the kitten from Sam’s hands and brought it up to her cheek, grinning and exclaiming over the small animal as if it was a long-lost pet that had finally come home.
“Thank you, Sam,” Hazel said, giving him a hug. “Thank you, thank you.”
I caught Father’s eye as he stood at the stove.
He just chuckled and went back to flipping his flapjacks.
November 3, 1849
San Francisco, California
Despite the threat hanging over our heads, Sam decided to move our household to the new hotel the next day. I had never seen him so lighthearted or happy, and whenever we were within arms’ length of each other, he managed to steal a kiss.
Johnnie and Hazel were eager to be back on the Hill, where life was less dangerous and they had a little more freedom. Their chatter filled the rooms of the hotel as I swept and dusted and prepared to open the next day, God willing.
Snowball, as the kitten had been named, made everything more exciting.
Beds had been built in all the rooms, and the kitchen was outfitted with all the things necessary to cook three large meals a day.
Barrels of sugar, flour, oats, salt pork, and more filled the storeroom off the kitchen.
Even Father was happy to return to Portsmouth Square where he could make connections with the businessmen who would help him start his school.
But none of the excitement could distract me from what I knew would happen sometime today.
The fire that was supposed to take our lives would sweep much of San Francisco away, and four Sydney Ducks would be executed for arson.
I kept my eyes on everything that day, watching for any sign that might be a threat.
The wind had picked up, which I knew would only aid the fire.
Sam had told me that the Sydney Ducks were familiar with bushfires in Australia and how destructive they could be if the wind was just right.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Lulu and if Jim would start the fire in retaliation for Sam helping her.
It was the only thing that made any sense.
Sam had enemies, but none as evil as Jim.
By that evening, Sam and I were on edge. Darkness had fallen over San Francisco and with it a sense of foreboding. The wind continued to whistle around the hotel, rattling the windows, and there was no light from the moon or the stars to help us see beyond our building.
Father had lost all his books in the first fire, so he had resorted to telling stories at night from memory, recounting some of his favorites, like The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
As we sat in the kitchen with the potbellied stove emanating heat and the wind unable to reach past the sound walls and windows Sam had built, Father’s voice rose and fell like the waves of a sea while Hazel and Johnnie listened with rapt attention.
Snowball was curled up on Hazel’s lap, sleeping as the girl pet her.
“Do you know what happened the next morning, after the Headless Horseman chased Ichabod?” Father asked the children.
Both shook their heads.
“They searched for Ichabod’s body, but they never found it.”
Johnnie’s eyes opened wide. “What did they find?”
“A smashed jack-o’-lantern.” Father grinned as he searched their faces. “What do you think it means?”
He always loved asking children questions.
As the children discussed the end of the story, I glanced out the window into the backyard. I wanted to enjoy the warmth of the moment, but it was hard to stay present when my thoughts were focused on what might happen later.
“I think it’s time for bed,” Father said as he put his hands on the table and started to rise. “Come, children. We’ll let Ally and Sam have a few minutes to themselves.”
Sam’s intense gaze found mine across the expanse of the table, and the electrical pull between us was almost palpable. No doubt Father had sensed it.
“Good night,” the children said as they hugged us and then followed Father up the stairs like the Pied Piper, another story he loved to tell. Snowball would sleep with Hazel and Johnnie as she had the night before.
“Where is Paddy?” I asked Sam as I rose to take my father’s abandoned chair next to my husband.
Sam took my hand and shook his head. “I don’t know. He left right after supper.”
Paddy had moved to the hotel with us, taking a small room just off the kitchen, but he came and went at leisure.
“We’re in for a long night,” I said, my attention returning to the window.
“Do you know when it’s supposed to start?”
“No. The history books were vague about the details.”
He pulled my chair a little closer, scraping it across the floor and causing me to smile as I held on.
“I don’t like when you’re so far away.” He kissed my neck just under my ear, sending a shiver of pleasure up my spine.
“We need to stay focused, Sam.”
“I’m very focused,” he said as he continued to kiss me. “All I’ve thought about today is you.”
I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate. “We need to focus on the threat.”
With a groan, he pulled back and sighed.
I laced my fingers through his, loving how it felt to share this special bond with him.
We blew out the lantern and sat for over an hour in the kitchen.
When we grew tired of sitting there, we went into the dining room to look out at Portsmouth Square from the other windows.
Sam stood behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, as we watched and waited.
It was active as always, but no one seemed to be focused on the hotel.
I yawned, exhausted from all the hard work we’d done the past two days, and leaned my head back on Sam’s chest.
“You can go to bed,” he said. “I can keep watch.”
“I don’t want to go to sleep.” I sighed. “And now that I’m not a time-crosser anymore, insomnia might keep me awake anyway.”
The hours ticked by as we paced around the main floor of the hotel.
Sometime around three in the morning, a noise from the back of the building brought our heads up.
“Is that Paddy?” I asked, since I hadn’t seen him all night.
“I don’t know. Wait here.”
I didn’t want to wait without him or have him go on his own, but I also didn’t want to get in his way.
He left the dining room and walked into the kitchen, leaving the door open.
I held my breath as glass shattered and a torch landed on the kitchen floor.
“Please, God,” I breathed. “Please intervene.”
Sam grabbed the torch before it could set anything on fire and opened the back door.
I moved closer to the kitchen and saw the wind whipping the torchlight as Sam held it up to see into the yard, his hand on the pistol at his side.
“I warned you,” Jim shouted as he came into the circle of light, his bowie knife in hand, reflecting the fire. “You didn’t learn last time, so I’m here to make sure you get it through your thick skull. Leave my women alone.”
I screamed as Jim lunged at Sam, but Sam was able to sidestep.
“This won’t solve anything,” Sam said to Jim, anger radiating off him. “You beat Lulu to within an inch of her life. No one should be treated that way.”
“It’s none of your concern,” Jim said as he circled Sam. “You won’t live to interfere again.”
He barreled toward Sam, though Sam anticipated the attack and deflected the knife with the torch. It flew out of Jim’s hand. With a growl, Jim charged, and Sam swung the torch again, knocking Jim to the ground.
Several dark figures emerged out of the corners of the yard, and my heart hammered with fear. “Sam! There’s more of them!”
Sam didn’t seem to hear me as Jim swiped Sam off his feet with his legs. The torch flew out of Sam’s hand and landed in Paddy’s pile of kindling. As the two men wrestled on the dusty ground, fire began to spread through the wood.
Terror gripped my heart as I looked around the kitchen for a weapon.
History couldn’t play out as it said in The Annals of San Francisco.
I wouldn’t go down without a fight. Not only did I want to save my husband’s life, but there was no more money to rebuild the hotel. Father, Hazel, and Johnnie needed us.
I’d never been more afraid or more certain that I was doing the right thing as I grabbed a knife and started for the yard.
Despair overwhelmed me when I saw that there were more men. Their silhouettes were dark against the night sky as the fire licked up the woodpile.
I cried out in frustration and anger as I ran toward the first one, but he put up his hand to stop me just in time.
It was Paddy.
He grabbed Jim’s knife and the torch as several other men came into the firelight. Some were customers from Bess’s Place, and others were businessmen from Portsmouth Square. One of them held a rope while others had knives or guns, and many of them worked to stomp out the flames.
Sam was breathing hard, but he managed to overpower Jim with the aided distraction of the other men and pinned him to the earth. “Tie him up!” he yelled.
The men made quick work, and soon Jim’s hands and feet were secure with the rope.
“We’ll finally have some justice in San Francisco,” one of the businessmen I recognized from Clay Street said. “Let the punishment of English Jim be a warning to the rest of them that we will not stand for lawlessness any longer.”
“We found three other Sydney Ducks with torches,” another man reported as he stepped into the yard. “We stopped them from setting fire to the bank, the mercantile, and the butcher.”
“We’ll see that justice is meted out for all of them,” the man from Clay Street said. “It’s time we form a vigilante committee to bring law and order to San Francisco.”
The other men shouted their agreement as Jim screamed profanities and fought against his restraints. “You’ll all pay for this!” he yelled. “You might take down a few of us tonight, but there are thousands left. They’ll have justice one way or the other.”
“So be it,” said the man from Clay Street. “But so will we.”
I slid to the ground, letting go of the kitchen knife as sobs racked my body. Was this it? Had we averted the plans that Jim had to kill Sam and start the fire? Or would we have to keep watch the rest of the night?
“Ally!” Sam squatted next to me. “Are you hurt?”
Shaking my head, I forced myself to stop crying as I reached for him.
He helped me to my feet and wrapped his arms around me. “You don’t need to worry anymore,” he said, running his hand over my hair. “Nothing is going to happen. I promise. There are dozens of men out there taking care of Jim right now. They’ll be on guard for the rest of the night.”
Paddy walked up to us and set Jim’s knife on the window frame of the hotel.
“Thank you, Paddy.” I moved away from Sam and went to the quiet, gentle giant who had protected us and gave him a hug.
He awkwardly hugged me back and then let go, almost embarrassed.
“I don’t know what we would have done without you.” I looked between the men, a sinking feeling coming over me. “But how did you know?”
Sam led me into the kitchen, away from the others.
Paddy followed.
“I didn’t know,” Sam assured me in a quiet voice. “I had no idea what to expect tonight.”
“Did you ask Paddy to get a vigilante committee together?” My heart was hammering as the men outside pulled Jim to his feet to take him away. “If you changed history because of something I told you—I don’t know what that means, Sam. I don’t know if I’ll still lose this path or if you will.”
“I didn’t ask Paddy to do anything.”
I turned to Paddy. “Did you hear us talking about what might happen tonight?”
Paddy shook his head.
“Then how did you know?”
Paddy looked from me to Sam, confusion in his eyes.
“I don’t think he did know,” Sam said. “Perhaps someone else caught wind of it. But I promise you, I didn’t breathe a word to anyone.”
“Are we safe now?” I turned back to Sam. “Will other Sydney Ducks try to retaliate?”
“They might. But without Jim’s leadership, it would take them a while to regroup. Someone else might rise up and take over the Ducks, but no one else has problems with me. Jim was my only real threat.”
“I think we should still stay on guard for the rest of the night,” I told him.
Sam nodded. “I think so, too.”
“I g-g-go,” Paddy said as he moved toward the door. “H-h-hang Jim.”
My eyes opened wide as I asked Sam, “Do you think they’ll hang him?”
“I don’t know. I’ll find out.”
He and Paddy left the kitchen as I stared at the shattered window, realizing how much worse things could have been tonight if we hadn’t been on guard. The torches that the men held outside gave me just enough light to see all the glass on the floor.
I bent down and began to pick up the largest shards to put into the trash bin, but it would be impossible to finish the job tonight.
After a few minutes, Sam stepped back into the kitchen and closed the door. “They’ve decided to hang them.”
My lips parted as I straightened. “Without a trial?”
“There’s no judge and no law to stop them. Jim and the others will be dead within the hour, and Paddy is going to watch.”
I shuddered to think about it.
“Jim isn’t just being hanged for attempted arson,” Sam continued.
“He’s guilty of a number of things, including theft, prostitution, murder, and more.
” He glanced toward the yard, where the men were just moving away.
“I don’t know if this is how history was supposed to play out, but things will be a lot less dangerous around here now. ”
“I don’t know anything about Jim and how he affected San Francisco history.”
“We’ll pray that the threat has passed.” Sam offered me his hand. “Let’s leave the glass to deal with in the morning, when we have better light.”
I nodded, joining my prayers with his that nothing else would put us in danger—now or in the future.
I still wasn’t certain what had happened, but I had a feeling that history had changed. I just didn’t know how.