Saturday's Child (21 page)

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Authors: Dallas Schulze

BOOK: Saturday's Child
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Chapter 12

"
K
atie!" Edith's cry turned several heads besides Katie's. Hitching Geoff further up on her hip, Katie turned toward the sound. She saw Colin first and she felt foolish tears start to her eyes. How could she have forgotten how handsome he was, how tall and strong?

"Katie?" Edith darted around a stout woman who was arguing with the porter about the disposal of her luggage. "You look wonderful! And this must be little Geoff. Oh, what a big boy he is. May I hold him?" Since she was already lifting the baby from Katie's arms, it was a somewhat rhetorical question.

Geoff, who generally objected to strangers, stared in fascination at the woman who held him. Later, Katie decided it might have been the enormous hat Edith was wearing, complete with a stuffed bird that bobbed up and down as she nodded. At that moment, it was such a relief to have finally arrived that she wouldn't have cared if Edith had arrived wearing an entire aviary.

"Katie. How are you, lass?" She all but fell into Colin's arms, feeling her tears spill over. When she was a child, she'd firmly believed that there wasn't any problem her big brother couldn't solve. He'd proven himself equal to fixing the doll her father hadn't had time to look at and to mending her knees when their mother was busy running her lines.

He couldn't fix her life for her this time, especially since she wasn't even sure she knew what was wrong. But just feeling his arms around her made her feel safe and protected.

"Here, here," he protested, half laughing. "You're supposed to be glad to see me, not turn into a watering pot." He pried her hands loose from his coat sleeves, tilting her chin up until he could see her face.

"I am glad to see you," she sniffed, giving him a wide smile to prove it. She bent to dig her handkerchief out of her reticule and missed the concerned look he sent over her head to Edith. "It's been such a long trip and I guess I'm more tired than I'd thought. I don't think Geoff is fond of traveling. He was so cranky. It was a good thing Quentin insisted on getting up a private compartment, else I think the other passengers might have asked us to leave."

She mopped the tears from her cheeks and blew her nose before smiling self-consciously. "You'll be thinking I've turned into a silly goose since I left, but I promise you that's not the case. Once I've had some tea and a chance to rest, I'll be my old self."

In a short while, she was comfortably ensconced in a wing chair in what Edith proudly called the parlor, though it was hardly large enough to bear such a grand name. A cup of tea steamed by her elbow and Edith had provided a plate of small biscuits, which she shyly admitted to having made herself.

Colin solemnly warned Katie to have care, her teeth might suffer if she attempted his wife's cooking. Edith hit his shoulder, blushing and calling him a traitor. He caught her hand, dropping a kiss on its back and promising to break every tooth he had on her biscuits, if only he could be forgiven.

Watching their silly play, Katie felt a wave of melancholy. This was what a marriage could be like. Husband and wife as friends and companions. If she couldn't have that, did she want anything less?


If Colin and Edith suspected there was more to Katie's visit than a simple desire to see San Francisco again, neither of them said anything. They gave her just what she'd wanted, time to think. The only problem was that thinking couldn't really give her the answers she needed.

When thinking grew too much to bear, she shopped, outfitting Geoff with a wardrobe that would last him for the next year or two, depending on how fast he grew. And for herself, she purchased fabric such as she'd only been able to dream about in the past. It was always a surprise to find that the Sterling name brought her a certain deference even in the finest of stores.

She indulged in only two ready-made gowns, both for specific occasions. The first was a lovely evening gown of pale green satin with a decolletage that made her blush. Colin had purchased tickets for his wife and sister to see the great Caruso, and Katie had no gown suitable for such an event.

The second gown was a soft day dress in palest apricot, with rows of lace around the hem and hundreds of tiny tucks over the bodice. She closed her eyes to the cost, telling herself that she was a Sterling now and, as such, could hardly go about town wearing the outmoded garments that now made up her wardrobe.

But the apricot dress was also for a special occasion. Though Quentin had told her quite specifically that he did not want her to visit his parents, Katie simply couldn't pretend they didn't exist.

So, the day before the opera, she donned the peach gown, dressed Geoff in a fine little suit of navy and white and called for a carriage to take her to the Sterling mansion.

Looking out the window on the ride, she felt her heart begin to beat more heavily as they passed familiar sights. The exquisite homes on the hill with their marble entries and pillared facades were like something out of a dream.

When the carriage drew to a halt, she waited until the driver jumped down to open her door and accepted his hand as if she were accustomed to such niceties every day. When she asked him to wait, he nodded without question, though she knew that a year ago, he'd have demanded to see some money first.

With a sleeping Geoff cradled in her arms, she turned to look down the street, delaying the moment when she'd have to face her in-laws. In the distance, she could see the blue of the bay. It looked so calm and peaceful. She wished she could draw some of that peace into herself.

Lifting her chin, she turned and walked up the brick path, raising her skirt slightly as she climbed the four stairs and stopped in front of the door. She could hear the bell ring somewhere in the house and she felt almost light-headed with nervousness. Maybe Quentin had been right.

But before she could change her mind, the huge door was swinging open. The maid who'd answered the door was no one she recognized.

"Yes, ma'am?" The deferential tone gave Katie courage. She half smiled, thinking that less than a year ago, she would more likely have been told to go around to the back door.

"Mrs. Quentin Sterling to see Mrs. Sterling, please."

She saw the girl's eyes widen and heard her quick intake of breath. She might have come to work here in the last year but it was obvious that she was well caught up on her gossip.

"Oh my." Without another word, she pushed the door shut, leaving Katie standing on the porch. She stared at the blank door, torn between amusement and indignation. It was only a moment before the door was opened again. This time it was Mrs. Dixon who stood on the other side.

The housekeeper looked down her thin nose at the woman and child outside. She made no effort to conceal her disdain.

"Mrs. Sterling is not at home to you," she said coldly. She would have shut the door without another word, but Katie had been prepared for this and she already had her reply ready.

"Then I'd like to see Mr. MacNamara, if you please. I'm sure he'll want to meet his great-grandson."

Mrs. Dixon hesitated and Katie knew what was going through her mind. She longed to shut the door in the intruder's face, to make it clear that she couldn't push her way in. But if she did so and Mr. MacNamara found out about it...

"Come in, please. I'll inform Mr. MacNamara of your arrival."

Katie stepped into the huge marble foyer, her chin held high. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She had every bit as much right to be here as anyone, if not for her own sake, then for the sake of the infant she held. Geoff was a Sterling and she'd not see him shut away from his family if she could prevent it.

Mrs. Dixon came back down the wide staircase, her back as rigid as if she'd swallowed a steel spike.

"Mr. MacNamara will see you now. If you'll come this way."

If the rest of the Sterling family wanted nothing to do with her or her son, Tobias MacNamara didn't share their feelings. In fact, he positively delighted in their presence in his suite of rooms.

Geoff seemed entertained by his great-grandfather and rewarded him by being on his best behavior. No fussing or crying. Instead, Tobias got to see him at his sunny best.

It was only when Geoff began to tire that the old man turned his attention to Katie.

"So, how's that grandson of mine? Why isn't he herewith you?"

"Spring is a very busy time at the ranch," Katie said noncommittally.

"Pshaw. The boy could get away if he'd a mind to. Not having problems, are you?" He didn't wait for her to answer, which was just as well because she couldn't think of a thing to say. "He's a good lad but prone to being moody. He thinks too much. That's been his problem all along.

"Take this girl Alice." He nodded with satisfaction when he saw Katie start at the name. "I thought that might be part of the problem. I might have warned you at the start but we hardly knew each other. Not that we know each other all that well now, but this little boy here, he kind of speeds things up."

"I do feel as if I've known you longer than I have," Katie said shyly.

"I do, too. Told Quentin when he came back that he wasn't going to find the kind of wife he needed among those society girls his mother would have paraded under his nose. Find yourself a good, strong girl with character, I told him. I was pleased enough when he told me the two of you were getting married. Hadn't seen a lot of you, but it doesn't take long to see character. And I saw it in you. Strength, too. He made a good choice."

"I'm not sure he'd agree," Katie said in a whisper, twisting her gloves in her hands.

"Well, if it's Alice you're worried about, don't be. Oh, she was a sweet enough child. Pretty as a picture and good-natured, but she and Quentin would never have suited. She was too soft and too gentle. Quentin would have found that out sooner or later."

Katie longed to believe him. But the very intensity of her desire made her wary. When you wanted something to be true, it was easy to blind yourself to the facts. And the fact was that Quentin had said he'd wanted to die, too, when he lost Alice.

Setting aside the tragic Alice, there was still no reason to think he cared for her. Before Geoff was born, she'd begun to think it possible, but he'd changed so since then, grown so cool and distant.

Still, the visit with Tobias made her feel better. Maybe she shouldn't give up so soon. Maybe Quentin had missed her since she'd left. The one short note she'd received since arriving nearly three weeks ago had been completely impersonal but not everyone could put their feelings on paper.


These were the thoughts that were running through her head the next night as she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She could find no answers there and she made a determined effort to turn her mind to other things, like the opera they'd seen a few short hours before.

Caruso was truly as great as she'd heard. An article in the Chronicle on Sunday had said that Caruso actually would rather be a good cartoonist than the greatest opera singer in the world and had shown some of his cartoons to prove the seriousness of his claim. Katie found it hard to believe that he'd prefer drawing caricatures to singing grand opera, especially when he was reputed to be earning two thousand dollars a performance.

Besides, the magnificence of the voice she'd heard that night made it clear that his destiny lay with opera. Surely, Don Jose had never been performed more brilliantly. And if Madame Fremstad as Carmen was, as one critic had said, just a bit dutchy, it was a small criticism.

The glitter of the audience had been fitting competition for the splendor of the audience. Colin had told them that nearly one hundred thousand dollars had been taken in for the one performance, with the best seats going for ten dollars each.

It seemed that the creme de la creme of San Francisco society filled the barnlike building, as much to see and be seen as to enjoy the cultural experience of the opera. There were so many dazzling jewels it was hard to notice any one more than the others.

Mrs. James Flood was one of the more restrained, wearing a tiara, a dog collar, shoulder straps and corsage decorations of diamonds and pearls. Edith pointed out the box occupied by Chief of Police Jeremiah Dinan and his wife. Officers ringed the rear of the auditorium, a precaution against a repeat of the riot that had occurred the night before at the Alhambra Theater when the audience had objected to the quality of the performance being offered there.

Colin had managed to get the night off so that he could attend the performance with his wife and sister and Katie thought she'd never seen him look more splendid than he did in his stiff white shirt and black frock coat.

It had been a lovely evening and, for a few hours, she'd nearly forgotten Wyoming, her marriage and Quentin. But now, lying in her quiet bed, there was nothing to distract her and she found herself wondering if he missed her even a fraction as much as she missed him.

Sighing, she turned her face into the pillow, determined to get at least an hour's sleep before Geoff woke her with a demand to be fed. The mantel clock in the parlor was chiming three and Geoff was sure to be awake by six.

Sheer willpower got her to sleep, but it seemed as if she'd barely closed her eyes when she was awake again. But it was not the sound of her son's cry that made her start up in bed. It was a deep rumbling sound, like the growl of a great animal.

Katie sat up with a start, noting in amazement that the furniture was moving as if in some bizarre dance. The rumbling became a roar as the little house shook. Her first thought was for the baby who lay in his crib near the wall. She jumped out of bed, only to be knocked from her feet as the floor undulated beneath her.

Lying on the floor, she knew the meaning of absolute terror. It was as if the city had been caught up by a giant terrier and was being shaken like a rat.

The shaking stopped and she lunged upward, running to the cradle to snatch Geoff up. She had time for only that before the shaking started again, more fierce this time. Staggering, she grabbed for the bedpost, clutching the baby to her with her free hand.

She watched in horror as the whole side of the house began to shudder and then suddenly the wall broke loose from its moorings, falling outward with a sound that seemed almost minor in comparison to the sounds of shattered masonry and falling brick that were all around.

Above it all, incongruous as a dream, she could hear the bells of Old St. Mary's Church, north of Market, frantically ringing as if announcing the end of the world. At that moment, Katie almost believed that was exactly what she was witnessing.

The shaking stopped with a last sullen rumble. Aside from the bell, it was suddenly silent, the quiet of the tomb. She could only stand there, trembling, holding Geoff close, her mind nearly blank.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a movement. A calendar fluttered on the wall, the lovely girl pictured on it a contrast to the destruction she so obliviously presided over.

Katie took careful note of the date, focusing her mind on that, as if it were of vital importance. Anything to avoid trying to deal with what had happened.

April 18, 1906

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