Rescuing the Heiress

“I know. She was such a darling girl, poor thing. The mister’s not been the same since she passed.” Mary sighed deeply, noisily. “I know how he feels. Sometimes it seems like your da will walk in the door one day and greet me the way he did for so many wonderful years.”

Michael chose not to respond. His father had been lost at sea while working as a seaman almost ten years ago, and before that had only come home on rare occasions. If they hadn’t had a fading photograph of the man, Michael wondered if he’d have been able to picture him at all.

“It’s been a long time,” he said. “You’re still a comely woman. Why not set your cap for a man who can take care of you?”

“Now, why would I be wantin’ to do that when my lovin’ son is goin’ to look after me in me old age?”

Chuckling, Michael nodded. “All right. You’ve made your point. And I will, you know. I just have to work my way up in the department until I’m making enough money to feed us both and qualify for family housing.” He laughed more. “I don’t suppose you’d be wantin’ to live in the station house with all those rowdy boys and me.”

“Might remind me of my brothers back in Eire, but, no, I have a nice room here. I’ll wait till you’re better set before I make my home with you.”

He reached to steal a slice of cinnamon-flecked apple from the bowl and was rewarded by her “Tsk-tsk” and a playful swat in his direction.

“I always knew you were a wise woman,” he said, popping the tangy bit into his mouth.

“And don’t you be forgettin’ it,” Mary warned.

From the doorway came a softly spoken, “Forget what?”

Michael’s head snapped around and he jumped to his feet. He knew that voice well, yet hearing it never ceased to give him a jolt. Whether it was a sense of joy or of tension, he had not been able to decide.

Licking his lips and dusting sugar granules off his hands, he nodded politely. “Miss Tess. Miss Annie. Good afternoon.”

Annie giggled and followed Tess into the warm kitchen.

“Umm. That bread baking smells wonderful. I can hardly wait to butter a slab,” Tess said.

Mary gave a slight curtsy and wiped her floury hands on her apron as she eyed the imposing gas stove. “Thank you, miss. It should be ready soon.”

“Then perhaps we’ll wait.” Tess looked to Michael and gave him a slight smile. “How have you been?”

“Fine, thank you. I just dropped in to pay a call on my mother.”

“As you should. Your employment is progressing satisfactorily, I presume?”

“Yes. I’m next in line to be promoted to captain of my fire company.”

“How impressive. I wish you well.”

He’d been studying Tess as she spoke and sensed that there was more on her mind than mere polite formalities. She and Annie had both been acting unduly uneasy, paying him close attention and fidgeting more than was normal for either of them.

“Thank you,” Michael said with a lopsided, knowing smile. “Why am I getting the impression that you ladies have something else to say?”

“Perhaps because we do,” Tess said. He saw her tighten the clasp of her hands at her waist and noticed that she was worrying a lace-edged handkerchief in her slim fingers.

“And what would that be?”

“I—we—are in sore need of an escort this evening and we were wondering if you would be so kind.”

“An escort?” Michael’s brow knit. “Don’t you have a beau who can provide that service?”

Tess’s cheeks flamed but she held her ground. “At the moment, sadly, no. However, Annie and I would be honored if you could find the time to accompany us. We can use one of father’s carriages if you like.”

His dark eyebrows arched. “Oh? And where would we be going?”

“Mechanics’ Pavilion. There’s going to be—”

“Whoa. I know what’s going on there tonight. I won’t be a party to your participation in such a folly.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Well, now I’ve ruffled her feathers, Michael concluded, seeing her eyes widen and hearing the rancor in her tone. Nevertheless, he knew he was right. “The pardon you should be beggin’ is your father’s,” he said flatly. “Mr. Clark has a reputation to maintain, for himself and for his bank. You can’t be keepin’ company with the likes of those crazy women.”

“I can and I will,” Tess insisted. “If you won’t escort us, then we’ll go alone.”

His jaw gaped for a moment before he snapped it shut. “I almost believe you.”

“You’d best do so, sir, because I mean every word.”

Looking to his mother, Michael saw her struggling to subdue a smirk. That was a fine kettle of fish. His own ma was evidently siding with the younger women. What was this world coming to? Didn’t they know their place? Hadn’t men been taking good care of women like them for untold generations?

Sure there was the problem of widows and orphans, but there were benevolent societies to provide for those needs. The last thing San Francisco—or the entire nation—needed was to give women a say in politics. No telling where a mistake like that would eventually lead.

“I can’t understand why you feel so strongly about this, Miss Tess. I’ve known you ever since my mother came to work here and I’ve never noticed such unreasonableness.”

“It isn’t unreasonable to want to hear the facts explained by one of the movement’s leaders,” Tess said.

Seeing the jut of her chin and the rigidity of her spine, he was convinced that she was serious so he tried another approach. “It could be dangerous. There have been riots as a result of such rabble-rousing.”

“All the more reason why you should be delighted to look after us,” she countered. “Well?”

Michael felt as stuck as a loaded freight wagon bogged down and sinking in quicksand. Slowly shaking his head, he nevertheless capitulated. “All right. I’m not scheduled to work tonight. If there are no fire alarms between now and then, I’ll take you. What time do you want to leave?”

“The meeting commences at eight,” Tess said. “I assume that’s so wives and mothers will not have to neglect their families in order to attend. You may call for us at half past seven. I’ll have the carriage ready.”

With that she grabbed Annie’s hand and quickly led her out of the room, their long, plaited skirts swishing around their ankles as they went.

Michael sank back onto the stool. When he glanced at his mother he noted that she was grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, well, if I hadn’t seen it with me own eyes I’d not have believed it,” Mary drawled. “My full-grown son was just steamrolled by a slip of a girl. ’Twas quite a sight.”

“That it was,” Michael said. “I can hardly believe it myself. What’s happened to Tess? She used to be so levelheaded and obedient.”

“You think she’s not being sensible? Ha! If you ask me, she and others like her are going to come to the rescue of this wicked world. Imagine how those crooked politicians will squirm when they can’t rely only on the good old boys who’ve been keeping them in office in spite of their evil shenanigans.”

“Ma! Watch yourself. If Mr. Clark was to overhear you, he might think you were responsible for Tess’s crazy notions.”

“More likely that girl’s responsible for waking me up,” his mother replied. “If I didn’t have so many chores tonight, I might just be tempted to go listen to Miss Younger, too.”