Bloody Lessons (16 page)

“You said she was hounded to death
? How exactly did she die, Miss Dawson?”

“I told you, she fell down the stairs at her boarding house. I was notified, but when I got to the hospital…there was internal bleeding
. They couldn’t stop it.” Laura turned away, afraid she was going to start to cry.

“Are you saying it wasn’t an accident?” Seth asked.

“I can’t really…say right now,” Laura said, turning to face him again. “Not until I get a better understanding of what happened this fall and the exact reasons for Hattie’s decision to quit teaching. Did you know that she was planning on marrying Mr. Russell in just a few weeks?”

Seth smoothed his
mustache, a mannerism she had learned meant he was thinking of what to say next. He then said slowly, “Well, I did know that she had met someone she was quite fond of named Russell. She did tell me she had resigned her position but not why.”

Laura, hurt once again to discover Hattie had confided in Seth but not her, said, “I don’t understand. She didn’t say a word to me in any of her letters. And you never mentioned this to me, either.”

Now Seth looked uncomfortable. He said, “It didn’t seem to be any of my business.”

Laura had the urge to snap that it certainly wasn’t his business, but since she was trying to find out what Hattie had confided in him, she refrained. Instead, she tried again to ask for details. “In her letters, did she give you the impression she felt pressured to quit teaching and marry Russell?”

“No, but she didn’t write much about herself. Mostly, she wanted to know how you were doing, how my classes were going. And she didn’t give me any specifics in her first few letters. Just that she had joined this study group to prepare for entrance into the University. Then she hinted she had met someone in this group she respected a good deal.”

“When did she tell you about quitting her job?”

“Several weeks before the end of fall term, when she wrote to me about the opening at Pine and Larkin. She knew that I had run out of funds and was looking for work.”

Laura thought about the timing. Would Hattie have even known she was pregnant by then?
Perhaps not. Once she found out, however, she would have had to scrap any plans to teach in the spring, and marriage would be the only respectable option. But was this a mutual decision between Hattie and Russell? She really wished she knew if Russell had known about Hattie’s condition. One thing she knew for sure, she wasn’t going to tell Seth Timmons about the pregnancy or about the real reason Hattie had bled to death.

Seth interrupted these thoughts. “I still don’t understand. How is this related to some man attacking you? That’s what you said, didn’t you, that you thought I had attacked you
?”

Laura thought he looked angry and wondered if he could ever forgive her for her stupid accusations. “I’m not saying it is related…I don’t know. You see, two weeks ago, on my way home, a man grabbed me in the alley behind the boarding house where I live. I thought he was someone I knew by the way he spoke. And I know I wasn’t very nice to you after your fight with Buck because you’d frightened me so. And then I was worried that you might have blamed me if Buck’s father made trouble for you. Please, Mr. Timmons, I am sorry I ever entertained the idea it might have been you. I have apologized…can you let it be?”

As Seth looked down at her, she could feel the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

He then said, “Miss Dawson, I don’t blame you
. I am just sorry to have given the impression that I would ever do you harm. I should have kept my temper more under control that day…when I…when I found that lily-livered cur pressing his attentions on you. I know I frightened you. But I can promise you, I mean to find out just exactly where Buck Morrison was two weeks ago, and if he is responsible…then all I can say is he will wish he were dead.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Saturday afternoon, January 24, 1880

"The old Ocean House road requires macadamizing from the Industrial School to Mission Street. The rock is being quarried with prison labor." ––
San Francisco Chronicle
, 1879

For his drive with Annie today, Nate had chosen the new Ocean Road that wound through the sand dunes north of Twin Peaks. He wanted to avoid the traffic that would be clogging up both the former Point Lobos toll road and the newly completed road that went through Golden Gate Park to the beach. He also wanted to avoid ending up at the Cliff House, with its still-painful memories for both of them. But now he doubted the wisdom of his choice as they left the protection of the hills and began to encounter a stiff western breeze, filling the air with fine grit. Even though the carriage roof was up, Annie had been forced to cover her nose and mouth with her scarf. Nate’s hat sat down low over his forehead, but he still had to squint to shield his eyes.

Although he hated cutting their excursion short, Nate said, “Look, shall we turn around and head home? The wind would at least be at our backs.” It had been nearly a week since he had seen Annie, and there was much to talk about that required more privacy than they would find if they stayed at her house.

“No, if I remember the one time you took me this way last summer, we should be hitting the old Ocean Beach toll road soon. Isn’t that macadamized? Kathleen told me she and Patrick were at the Ocean Side House a few months ago and that they had a nice snug fire.”

“Annie, I…”

“Oh shush. What is respectable enough for Kathleen and Patrick is fine for me. It’s the Cliff House that has become notorious, not the Ocean Side House. Besides, Kathleen would never suggest I go somewhere that wasn’t proper. You know she and Beatrice are as careful of my reputation as you are. But do hurry, I am freezing.” She turned and buried her face in his shoulder.

He could see the House of Corrections and the old Industrial School ahead, which meant they were about to join the better road, so he continued on, urging the two horses to a faster trot. The team would be equally glad to reach their stalls in the stab
les next to the restaurant.

Once sitting at a table with a view of the ocean in front of them and the fireplace at their back, Nate felt himself relax. For some reason, every time he took Annie out for a ride
, he became anxious. It was not just the memory of their first trip to the ocean together and its disastrous conclusion but some deep-seated fear that something would go wrong that would undermine her respect for him. The hostlers would fob off a carriage on him whose cushions were badly sprung or an axle would break or the waiter would give them a table located near the kitchen––something that other men would know instinctively how to handle. That her father, or her former husband, would have known how to handle. It was an idiotic insecurity, but there it was.

If only she would tell him more about her husband, maybe he wouldn’t worry as much. He knew she’d been
unhappy, that her husband was responsible for the loss of her inheritance and that he eventually committed suicide. But that was the fate of many a good and honorable man during the terrible financial panic of 1873. He also knew from experience that men born to New York City wealth, like her father, like her husband, had an ease about them that he’d never mastered. They commanded respect without even trying. And she must have loved John Fuller at one time. She married him, after all. What if the underlying sadness he’d sensed coming from her recently was because he just didn’t measure up to her father or to her husband, and that was why she didn’t want to marry him?

Annie, who had stopped by the ladies’
cloak room to freshen up, walked over to the table, and Nate leaped to his feet. There was something different about the outfit she wore today that emphasized her slender waist, and it was all he could do not to sweep her into his arms. Instead, he calmly pulled back her chair. As he slid the chair forward, he breathed deeply, noting that her usual scent today included the tang of salt. When he sat down across from her and noticed the high color in her cheeks and the redness of her lips, he wondered if her kisses would taste salty as well.

“Nate, why are you looking at me like that? I know I must look a fright. I tried to tidy up, but I am afraid that Kathleen is going to have to sweep extra carefully in my room after I undress tonight to get up all the sand. What did I say?” she added, and Nate began to choke on the sip of water he had been drinking.

Lord, doesn’t she realize what the very idea of watching her undress for the night does to me?
The waiter appeared, and Nate was saved from having to explain himself by the need to consult the menu and order tea and cakes enough to fortify them for the ride back. Then, when the waiter departed, he got right down to business.

“You’ve finished reading through Russell’s letters? Did you learn anything that would prove or disprove Laura’s theory that he was somehow pressuring Miss
Wilks into marriage?”

“Well, there was nothing to suggest that he was anything other than what he appears to be, a man who fell violently, and unexpectedly, in love. The early notes are brave attempts to keep their relationship on a professional basis, full of scholarly quotations that he is asking her to translate. But his admiration for her shines through. Then something must have happened in late September because the next letter contains an open declaration of his feelings and his joy in discovering that they were reciprocated.”

Nate said, “That sounds innocent enough. Anything else? Any mention of the notes we found?”

“Throughout the first two weeks in October, you can see they are trying to be very discreet. While they must have seen each other daily at Clement Grammar, his letters mention how difficult it is for him to see her and not speak to her. There were some mentions of arranged meetings outside of school. Mostly, however, these letters are filled with poetry and declarations of his love. Then a letter the third week of October refers to some sort of crisis. He wrote several letters in a row that she evidently did not answer, and he begged her to let him come see her.”

“That does sound a lot like he was pushing her to take a step she didn’t want to take. Has Laura read the letters yet?”

“Yes, I handed them over to her Wednesday evening, and we talked about them last night when you couldn’t stop by. She plans on handing them back to Russell this week. I must say, Nate, I am beginning to resent Able Cranston and how much he is mono
polizing your time!"

Pleased that she missed hi
m, Nate leaned over and took her hand, saying, “The Purdy trial isn’t the only thing that is keeping me busy. I also had several meetings with Emory this week, but let’s finish with Russell and his letters. What did Laura say after she read them?”

“She reacted the way you might think, angry that he would put such emotional pressure on Hattie. But she did admit that he seemed sincere about his affection for her.”

Nate held up his hand, and they were silent as the waiter poured their tea and offered them a plate piled high with tasty cakes and pastries. When the waiter left, Nate said tentatively, “Do you think that the crisis you mentioned was her discovery that she was…that she had discovered her condition and that is why she decided to resign at that time?”

Annie shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think so. That series of letters came right after the crisis, in mid-October, and they had only declared their love for each other a few weeks earlier. There is no way she would know. Let’s just say it is much more likely that it was the first note, accusing her of
immorality, that probably spurred the decision to resign. Someone must have seen them together.”

“Does Russell mention the notes outright? Or speculate on who might have written them?” Nate asked, getting excited by the idea that there might be something in Russell’s letters that would help determine who had been making accusations about Mrs. Anderson.

“No, never directly. He does mention that he will make sure that the Clement Grammar principal, DuBois, gives her a good recommendation, so it seems she was still planning on teaching elsewhere in the spring, another indication that pregnancy wasn’t motivating her at that point. Then the addresses on the envelopes change. Hattie had been living in a boarding house on Hyde, but in the middle of November, she moved to the Mission Street boarding house. Laura thought Hattie had to move because she didn’t have any income, but that wouldn’t explain why she moved before the term was over.” Annie stopped, waiting for the waiter to refill their teapot and leave.

She continued. “I wondered if Hattie was worried that someone in her
former boarding house was behind the letters. Or it could be that they decided it would be easier for the two of them to meet on the weekends if she moved south of Market, further away from work. Once she made the move, the letters are less frequent, but they sound happy as they start to plan the wedding.”

“Still no mention at any time that they
have
to get married?”

“No, if Biddy’s mother hadn’t told me about the miscarriage, I would never have guessed her condition from the letters. I think it is possible that Russell didn’t know. I suppose it is even possible that Hattie herself didn’t know.”

“Heavens above, how awful,” Nate said. Then he noticed the tears welling up in Annie’s eyes. It seemed every time the circumstances of Hattie’s death came up, Annie was overcome with grief. There had to be more to it than she was admitting. Why couldn’t she trust him enough to tell him what was wrong?

Before he could say anything, she took a sharp breath and said, “I wish we could ask Russell directly, but if there is the slightest chance he was behind the notes or behind the attack on Laura or at all implicated in Hattie’s fall, I don’t think we can risk it.”

“Did Laura say anything more about her other candidate for the attack, Seth Timmons, that fellow who tracked her down at Woodward Gardens?”

Annie sat up straighter, her eyes brightening the way they did when she was excited, and she said, “You won’t believe this. She has completely exonerated him, at least in her own mind. She found some letters of his to Hattie
, and it turns out Timmons was visiting her at Hattie’s request. I do think Laura was rather put out by this, but it convinced her that he didn’t have some awful obsession with her and that he couldn’t have been the man who attacked her.”

“Wait, what about the fact that he knew where she was living? And followed her to the Gardens?” Nate exclaimed.

“Well, she says that after having read the letters, it makes perfect sense that Hattie would have given him Laura’s address as soon as she learned he was moving up to San Francisco. Timmons told Laura that it was Hattie who told him about the job he got, just as she did for Laura. I wonder if Hattie wasn’t a bit of a match-maker…”

Nate held up his hand to stop her and said, “Timmons told her? She’s seen him since Sunday?”

“Yes, she wrote him after reading the letters. She told me she wanted to quiz him about what Hattie wrote to him about Russell and her decision to quit teaching. In response, he showed up at Clement Grammar on Wednesday after school was out. Laura says he said Hattie didn’t mention the anonymous notes or say anything that indicated she was being pressured into marrying Russell.”

Nate felt
a surge of anger and said, “Annie, she told him about the notes! We can’t have that information bandied about. Who knows who he might tell? Damn it, Annie, how could she be so foolhardy?” He took a deep breath and muttered an apology for having sworn. Thank goodness, Annie never seemed to get upset when he forgot to mind his tongue in front of her.

Annie patted his hand and said, “Calm down, Nate. If it is any consolation, she seemed ashamed that she had written him without checking with us first. I gather she didn’t expect him to show up that way, either, but she felt she needed to tell him about the notes in order to justify all her questions. I
did warn her that she needs to be more circumspect in the future. Made me feel quite ancient, advising her to be more careful.”

She smiled at him, and he felt the anger drain away.

She continued. “She assures me that she didn’t give him any details. In any event, between the letters and her conversation, she seems very confident that Seth Timmons wasn’t the one who attacked her. Something about the philosopher Comte, which I confess didn’t make much sense to me.”

“So do you agree with her?” Nate asked. “Do you think we can rule Timmons out as her attacker?”

“I don’t think we can rule anyone out, and I do think it might be a good idea for you to go talk to him yourself. You know, I have felt from the beginning that her former student, Buck, the one who was harassing her, is a more likely candidate for the attacker. Evidently, that was Timmons’ reaction, and now she is all in a dither about him going after Buck. She is worried he will get in trouble with the law or at the very least lose his job.”

“What!”

“Yes, she asked me if you would be able to represent Timmons if he thrashed Buck again and Buck or his father pressed charges. She said she didn’t know if it would be considered a ‘conflict of interest.’”

Nate stared at her, hoping to discover she was teasing him. But when she shrugged and smiled
, he knew she wasn’t. Sighing, he shook his head and said, “Do you think we can send her back home to the ranch? When I promised Mother and Father we would look after her, I never, ever, imagined what that would entail.”