Maids of Misfortune (13 page)

As Nate's explanation petered out, Annie, without thinking, placed her hand gently on his arm and said, "Yes, I'd like that, but only if you agree to call me Annie. I don't know why, but I feel like I've known you forever."

Annie surprised herself by that last statement and paused. What she had said was true. She found it difficult to believe she had met Nate Dawson only six days before and that this was only the fourth time she had been in his company. She felt surprisingly comfortable in his presence, even when she was furious with him, and all this formality of last names seemed so stuffy. Yet she didn’t know when she had ever called a man by his first name, except for her husband, and that was only after they married. For older men, even those like Mr. Stein or Matthew Voss to whom she felt very close, the age difference was a barrier. They might call her by her first name, as Mr. Stein did, out of affection, but it would be disrespectful for her to reciprocate and call him Herman.

What about men her own age? Truth be told, she had never had a male friend before. She had been her father’s hostess from the age of fourteen, but that meant making small talk with men her father’s age or trying to get his tongue-tied clerks to speak a few words when they came to dinner. There were the young men she met at social functions, but their conversation hadn’t gone much beyond vapid comments about the weather. John had been her first real beau, and their courtship had been a whirlwind that ended four months later in marriage. She had fooled herself that the stiffness of his conversations with her was the result of natural reserve and that after marriage they would develop the kind of warm friendship she believed had existed between her father and mother. This was the first of many disappointments in her marriage. To be fair, she had probably disappointed John in many ways as well.

Snapping back to the present, she told herself that it should be perfectly proper for two adults of the opposite sex to develop a friendship.
It is nearly the eighteen-eighties after all, and being a mature widowed woman should provide some advantages
. She looked over at Nate and saw a hesitant look on his face, and she smiled encouragingly.

He then took up his earlier topic, saying, "Now that I think of it, Samuels said something that made me curious. Part of his diatribe on labor costs was directed at the furniture factories owned by the Chinese merchants. He said they hurt the Voss and Samuels Company through unfair competition because they used contract labor. Almost as an aside, he remarked that Mr. Voss's manservant, Wong, could tell a tale or two about what went on among the Chinese who make up the Six Companies. Seemed to imply that if there was wrong-doing, Wong might be involved."

"But hadn’t Wong left the house before Mr. Voss died, and weren’t the doors still bolted in the morning so he couldn't have gotten back in during the night?" Annie responded.

"Yes,” Nate replied. “Additionally, Wong's movements after he left are fairly well accounted for. Seems that he is a well-known and recognized figure to all the police on their beats between O'Farrell Street and Chinatown."

"And did they report seeing Wong that night?"

"Sure did. One police officer saw him walking down Geary on Sunday evening around eleven o'clock. Like Samuels, he has an alibi as well, although Detective Jackson didn’t seem convinced he could trust the word of the men who said Wong was with them in a night-long card game. The Detective seemed quite put out that he couldn't immediately haul him in for questioning."

"Well, too bad,” Annie replied with some heat. “I can't stand the attitude that all the problems of San Francisco can be laid at the doorstep of the Chinese. Mrs. O'Rourke and I simply can't talk about this issue––it's the only time we have had a serious falling out. It is purely baseless ignorance to say that the Chinese are evil and must be kept out of the United States. I certainly hope that you aren't in the exclusionist camp?"

Nate urged the horses back into a trot and then responded. "No, Mrs. Fuller, I mean, Annie. I don't think that a Chinese Exclusion law would be a good idea. I also disagree with men like Samuels who feel that the Chinese are bad for business. But I can understand the frustration of Dennis Kearney and his Workingmen's Party. It's hard to be unemployed and see the Chinese taking jobs."

"Pooh! I would think Irishmen like Kearney should be ashamed for blaming the Chinese for all the economic difficulties of the past few years. Better to blame the banks––they caused the panic and depression. And it was not that long ago the Irish faced the same charges, that they force down wages and cause unemployment."

Nate interjected, "But the Irish are being accepted now. They practically run the city government and make up half the millionaires on Nob Hill. I just don't see that happening to the Chinese."

"Well, the Irish may be more accepted out west," Annie replied, "but there are lots of people who still refuse to see them as equal. I can just hear my mother-in-law back in New York explaining why she refuses to hire Irish maids. She'd stick her nose up in the air and say, 'I'd never let a dirty, dishonest, drunken Catholic in my home. They live in filth and breed like pigs, and they should go back to Ireland where they belong.' Which is just as untrue as what is being said about the Chinese."

Chagrined, Annie paused, realizing she had gotten on one of her hobbyhorses. Just as well that she hadn’t mentioned her own speculations that Nellie, or someone else in the house for that matter, could have let Wong back into the house later. Nate could have rightly accused her of inconsistency.

"All right," Nate chuckled. "Tell me, have you ever considered giving up the business of clairvoyance for the practice of law? I'd hate to argue against you in court."

Before she could adequately respond to this blatant provocation, the carriage swept around a sharp curve, and the Pacific Ocean spread out before them. Nate pulled the carriage to a halt at the side of the road. They could see to the horizon, where the soft faint mist of August obliterated the edge where the sea met the sky. Only an indefinable difference in the quality of the blue above them testified to the continued separation of air and water. Annie imagined that if she contemplated those far reaches for too long, she would completely lose her understanding of up and down, tumbling forever in a world without boundaries.

"Oh, how extraordinarily beautiful," she said quietly. "It goes on forever." Annie found herself breathing deeply, her ribs pushing against the snug stays of her corset. Spontaneously, she turned to Nate and exclaimed, "Oh, can we get out and walk along the cliffs? I want to be able to see down to where the waves break against the rocks. I can hear them. I want to see them."

Nate laughed. "In a minute, but first things first. We need to go on to the Cliff House and see if Nellie Flannigan is available. I promise you, before we go back, you can walk along the cliffs. Along the beach, too, if you want."

Nate started the horses again, and they made their way slowly up a steep, curved incline. Around the curve and halfway up the hill, they saw the Cliff House Inn perched on the edge of the road, overlooking the ocean. There were a good number of carriages and horses standing out front.

As Nate jumped down to hitch their horses to the rail, he asked if she would mind if he left her alone while he went into the Cliff House to find Nellie. "When I find her, I'll bring her out so we can both speak to her. She won't want to talk in the restaurant where she can be overheard."

Annie agreed. It was nearly one now, and Nellie might be working, since it was clear that Sunday dinner was still being served. She also suspected this was Nate's diplomatic way of keeping her out of the Inn. When first built, the Cliff House was a very reputable hotel. But it had changed ownership several times and become famous as a place where men and women who were married, but not to each other, might conduct liaisons. Respectable people still patronized its dining room, but Annie knew many of those same respectable people would be scandalized if a widow of indeterminate social status, such as herself, ventured into the Cliff House with a single man. Personally, she thought the whole question of a woman's reputation ridiculous, but she was not prepared to fight that battle with Nate today, especially since she knew he was under a strict charge from Beatrice in this matter.

Nate looked rather relieved when Annie didn't protest his decision, and in a few minutes he returned alone and climbed back up into the carriage.

"Well, she's not here. One of the other waitresses said Nellie received a message this morning from someone, and then she begged to trade shifts so she could be off before noon. She's due back at work at four."

"I wonder who she is meeting? Perhaps Jack changed his mind and decided to come today after all."

Nate shrugged. "I wouldn't put it past him to have decided to coach Nellie so she can make up something and soak us properly."

"Oh, dear. I suppose that might have happened. Shall we wait for her here or try to go look for her?"

Nate turned to Annie and said, "I've got an alternative, if you're agreeable. Since there are three hours until she arrives back, and we haven't the faintest idea what direction to go to look for her, maybe we could drive up a piece and see what Mrs. O'Rourke packed for us as a snack. There are some rocks overlooking the shore, and we can spread the food out, and you can walk a bit. Then at a little before four, we'll come back here. The girl I talked to seemed to think that we could talk to Nellie even after her shift started, because at that time there is very little business. Does that sound all right?"

"It sounds wonderful. I confess I didn't have much of a breakfast, and I'm starved. And it's such a beautiful day for a walk. I suspect that Nellie right this moment is wishing that she never had to return from her afternoon off."

Annie suddenly shivered. Disconcerted, she looked up and saw that a tiny scudding cloud had temporarily blocked the sun; she hoped this wasn't an omen of bad weather ahead.

Chapter Eighteen

Nate felt Annie shiver beside him and hoped she wasn't too cold. The sun had been shining quite brightly for some time, but the breeze off the ocean was sharp. He had wondered at her choice of clothing when she stepped out of the boarding house this morning. Not that her dress wasn't nice enough, but the material seemed awfully flimsy for a carriage ride in August. The weather could be so chancy this time of year.

So far, the day had been warm. Looking over at Annie, he could see her smiling, no doubt in anticipation of her housekeeper’s lunch. Such a hearty declaration of appetite was wonderful. He'd never quite understood why it was supposed to be indelicate for women to express hunger. Glancing at her again, their eyes met, and he smiled, noticing, not for the first time, the dimples on either side of her mouth. He wrenched his gaze away from her face and brought the horses to a standstill alongside a hitching post next to the side of the road. They were at a small turnoff a short way up the hill from the Cliff House.

“I brought my youngest sister, Laura, here one afternoon at the beginning of the summer,” Nate commented. “She was visiting me for a week, between sessions of the state normal school she is attending in San Jose. She dragged me all over San Francisco. We explored Chinatown, walked and looked at the mansions being built on Nob Hill, ate fish at a little restaurant by the docks; but I think I enjoyed the afternoon we spent here the best. She clambered all over the rocks collecting specimens for her future students. She’s going to make a really first rate teacher!”

There was a single, rider-less horse hitched to the post but no one in sight in the small grove of cypresses at the top of the cliff or on the huge slabs of rock that giant-stepped part of the way down to the sand. He thought that, with luck, they'd have the place to themselves. He got out of the carriage, and, after he tied up the horses, he went around to help Annie down.

"Watch your step," he warned as Annie lifted her skirts in one hand and held on to the carriage seat with the other. One of the carriage wheels must have been poised on a rock hidden in the dirt, because the carriage unexpectedly lurched forward. Annie let go of her skirts and reached out with her hand to steady herself on his shoulder, while clinging to the carriage back with the other.

Without thinking, Nate grabbed her and swung her down. She landed lightly, springing up slightly on her toes before settling. He was surprised how easy it had been to lift her. The material of her dress was thin and rather slick, and his hands slipped up from her waist so that he could feel the swift contractions and expansions of her rib cage. For the briefest of moments, they stood looking at each other, her hand still on his shoulder, his hands still around her, as if they were about to dance. Then he released her, shocked at the nature of his physical response.

Nate swallowed a few times before words came out in a rush. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I was afraid you'd fall."

Annie stepped a little away from him, fussing with the collar at her throat, and she replied rather breathlessly. "That's quite all right. Thank you. These tighter skirts can be a bother." Looking around her, she went on. "This looks like a beautiful spot. Is there something I can carry? Oh, and could you hand me my parasol?"

Nate pulled the basket out of its place under the carriage seat and said, "Certainly, and if you would carry these blankets Mrs. O'Rourke gave us, I'll bring the basket."

Annie walked beside him as they picked their way carefully down a steep, rocky path that ended in a particularly flat outcropping half-way between the road and the beach below. The beach itself was still invisible, but he could hear the waves crashing over the rocks and see the miniature islands to the south, where seals and sea lions were sunning themselves on the rocks. Fault lines crisscrossed the light brown slab of rock on which they stood, and from the crevices, delicate wild flowers the color of mustard, amethyst, and rose peeked shyly. The off-shore wind played capriciously with the ribbons on Annie's straw hat and swept Nate's hair into his eyes, and the steady surge of the sea isolated them from the sounds of all other mankind.

Annie dumped the blankets at her feet and, lifting her arms, breathed deeply in unselfconscious delight. Nate grinned at her in response. He then made his way back up to the carriage to tend to the horses while Annie spread the blankets and unpacked the food. When he returned, he noted she had sensibly found small rocks to hold down the corners of the blanket, leaving only the edges to rise and fall in abortive attempts at flight. Annie herself was sitting awkwardly, with her left arm propping up her weight, which was all on her left hip, while her legs were folded off to her right, modestly encased in long folds of her skirt. Her position looked rather like those of mermaids he remembered from children's books, and the very incongruity of this thought made Nate laugh out loud.

Annie's eyes flashed, and then she wrinkled her nose and chuckled. "Nate Dawson, don't you laugh at me. I know I look ridiculous sitting here. But I can't figure out how else to do it and remain respectable."

As Nate sat down across from her, arranging his legs tailor fashion, she pointed to him and continued. "See how easy it is for you! It almost puts me in charity with Amelia Bloomer. Women's fashions today are not designed for any real-life activity. Why, my mother's hoops were more practical. I remember as a small child, when we went out with Father for trips into the mountains, Mother had no trouble sitting down. Her skirts and crinolines just poofed up around her like a tent. I'll admit she did look rather like a gigantic spider, but under those hoops she could do anything with her legs she wanted, and no one would know."

Annie stopped, and Nate could see that she was blushing furiously as she continued, "Oh, dear, I said 'legs.' I'm sorry, my mother would have been furious with me if she knew I had referred to that part of her anatomy in the company of a man. Do forgive me."

Nate tried to compose his features as he replied. "I doubt seriously that people in the spirit world sit around monitoring our manners. And I think you have done quite splendidly in preserving your modesty. Now, if your left arm doesn't collapse and toss you over, you should be fine. Luckily, it looks as if most of the food Mrs. O'Rourke sent us can be eaten with one hand. But if you get in trouble, please let me know and I'll feed you."

She just shook her fist at him in mock anger and then began to move food onto the dish in front of her. Nate thought how charming she could be and how rare and precious was the ability to laugh at oneself. He then turned his attention to the food that her housekeeper had provided. Obviously, Mrs. O'Rourke was a notable cook. The range of delicacies she had prepared on short notice was dazzling. There were buttermilk biscuits, already buttered and still warm, along with a crusty loaf of sourdough bread. She had sent three kinds of jams: cherry, currant, and green gooseberry. And there were pickled beets, pickled corn, and spiced tomatoes. For the main dishes, there were thick slices of cold ham and jellied breasts of chicken. Another dish revealed a cold veal pie with a wonderful crumbly crust. And then for dessert there were slices of a towering, three-layered chocolate cake. To wash this abundance down, Mrs. O'Rourke had provided tightly corked jugs, apple cider for the lady and ale for the gentleman.

Nate, who boarded with his uncle in a house with a parsimonious housekeeper and an indifferent cook, sighed in ecstasy as he surveyed his choices, and for a quarter of an hour the sounds of the ocean faced no competition from him as he concentrated on sampling everything. Annie ate more sparingly, and he could tell she was watching how much he ate.

Finally, she laughed and said, "Gracious, you must have been starved. However do you keep so lean, eating that way? Beatrice will be beside herself; she loves a hearty appetite. Here I thought we were going to have to give most of the food away to the gulls so she wouldn't be offended. But I can see that this won't be necessary."

Nate washed down the last of the veal pie with a deep draught of the ale and again sighed with satisfaction. Wiping his mouth with the linen napkin Mrs. O’Rourke had also provided, he said, "That was wonderful. I haven't eaten so well since I was last back home." He then pulled out his pocket watch and flipped open its lid. "It's only two-thirty. Why don't we go for a bit of a walk? Then maybe I'll have room to do justice to the cake before we have to go back to the Cliff House to see Nellie."

Annie nodded in agreement and began to put all but the cake and plates back into the basket. He stood, brushed crumbs off of himself, and stretched, filled with a profound sense of well-being. Last night, he'd half regretted making the offer to take Annie with him to find Nellie, afraid of the awkwardness that might exist between them after the Rankin incident. But everything had turned out very pleasantly.

He leaned over and offered Annie a hand as she scrambled to her feet. She laughed, saying, "There, wasn't that gracefully done?" as she twitched her skirts straight. "I'd better put up my parasol or I'll get a scold from Beatrice when we get back. She can count the minutes I've been in the sun by the number of freckles that appear on my nose." She then bent over, scooped up the parasol, opened it deftly, and began to wander towards the edge of rocks to look down. Nate moved the basket to the center of the blanket, hoping to insure that it didn't blow away while they were gone, and walked after her.

He called out, "Don't go too near the edge. I'm too full from Mrs. O'Rourke's cooking to run and catch you if you slip. We'll take the path down to the beach if you want a better view."

Annie smiled back at him, clamping her hand on her hat as the stronger breeze near the cliff top snatched at it. "What? Not promising to be my knight in shining armor and save me from certain death! How un-chivalrous. I thought better of you."

Nate winced.
That is just it
, he thought.
I’m not a hero
. Her expressions of gratitude last night had made him feel ashamed. Ashamed because his whole behavior had been reprehensible. First of all, he should never have left her alone at the dance. He'd realized his mistake almost immediately, thrown the cigar away after two puffs, and come right back, but it was too late. He had no memory of how he got to Annie's side and only a hazy memory of slamming Charles against the wall. The depth of his anger still shook him.

It wasn't as if he'd never been angry before, and no boy grew up without a fair number of fights. Hard to avoid them living on a ranch where the cowboys seemed to feel it was their duty to initiate a youngster into manhood by frequent rough and tumbles. But this feeling had been different, primitive. He'd wanted to kill the man who dared touch her. He'd like to think he would have been angry on behalf of any woman; he hadn't been lying to Annie when he'd told her that every woman at the ball deserved to be treated with respect. But that was principle; the reality was that it was the violation of Annie Fuller that was unforgivable.

Nate felt his hands clench as the scene replayed in his mind, then he realized that Annie had spoken to him and was looking back at him with a curious expression.

"Why, Nate, what's making you look so grim? I thought you said it would be all right if we went on down to the beach?"

Nate smiled weakly, unclenched his fists, and hurried up to her, apologizing for his inattention. "I'm sorry, I was thinking of something else. Certainly we can go down, but do be careful not to slip. Perhaps I'd better go on in front."

Annie chuckled. "Oh, that's a good idea. Then if I should tumble down, you'd be there to slow my descent. We could be a regular Jack and Jill."

Nate moved ahead, trying to find the easiest path down, pointing out obstacles that she should be aware of as they went. Annie kept up a steady stream of chatter about what they were seeing, exclaiming about a sand piper that fluttered overhead, and then stopping to pick some of the various wild flowers along the way.

Once they achieved the beach, she turned and said, “Oh, it is beautiful. Now which way should we walk?"

Nate looked down south past the Seal Rocks and saw that the beach in that direction seemed fairly populated. Some children and a dog were running in the surf, and scattered outposts of blankets and large umbrellas testified that a number of family groups were taking advantage of the warm weather. Up north, however, the narrower beach seemed deserted, and that was the direction in which he pointed.

"Let's go this way. If I remember correctly, around the headland that sticks out just there, there is a nice little cove and some interesting rock formations. We seem to be nearing low tide, and there may be some tide pools exposed. You can add to your treasures."

Annie turned her steps in the direction Nate had pointed. The two walked in silence for some minutes, with Annie stopping from time to time to examine or pick up shells. The sand was damp and packed and made easy walking; since the tide was still going out, they didn't have to worry about errant waves catching them as they went along. Here and there, the remnants of foot prints from two other walkers who had passed this way earlier had been spared by the waves and preserved in the sand, each print filled by a diminutive lake of sea water. The sun, now lower in the horizon, battled mightily with the wind to keep them a comfortable temperature, although Nate wished he could take off his suit coat. Sand pipers and terns frantically scurried in front of them, sweeping first in and then out of the ebb and flow of the waves.

Nate looked at his watch again and said, "We probably have just about enough time to get around the base of this outcrop, scout around the rocks for a few minutes, and then we will have to turn back. That is, if we want to leave time for Mrs. O'Rourke's cake before we look for Nellie."