Thurston House (31 page)

She sat staring down at him in shocked terror long into the night. The fires raged across Nob Hill, gutting almost everything around them, and miraculously sparing them. But Sabrina wouldn't leave him. She sat holding his hand and sobbing long into the night, as the flames raced to the front door and then suddenly changed direction, and when morning came, she still sat there, holding the hand of the man who had been her father. Most of the fires in the city had been put out, and the earthquake was over. But for Sabrina life would never be the same again, without him.

SABRINA brought her father's body back to Napa on the steamer, and on to St. Helena, in a somber cortege. The carriage from the mines was waiting for them at the pier along with a small, sober-faced party of miners, each wearing the only suit he had. It was only when the carriage reached the private road to Jeremiah's home that she saw them all, five hundred strong, lining the road, five and ten deep, quietly waiting for the man they had loved and for whom they had worked so hard. For years, he had fought for them, dug them out in the floods, pulled them from the mines in the worst fires, cried when they died ' and now they wept for him. Many cried openly as they doffed their hats as the carriage rolled slowly past them. Hannah stood on the front porch, her weather-beaten face awash with tears, her eyes blinded by grief, as the casket was lowered from the carriage, and eight men carried it into the front hall, and then into the parlor where he had slept for eighteen years before he married.

Sabrina went wordlessly to Hannah and took her in her arms and the old woman sobbed on her shoulder, and then Sabrina went outside briefly to shake hands with some of the men, and thank them for coming. They had little to say, and couldn't have found the words to tell her what they felt. They just stood there and eventually turned away and left, in large, silent groups. Their hearts would be buried with the man they had respected and loved. There would never be another man like him.

Sabrina walked back into the house, and felt a catch in her throat as she caught a glimpse of the mahogany box they had set down in the parlor. Hannah had woven a blanket of the wild flowers he had loved so much, and they laid it carefully over the casket now, as suddenly Sabrina could bear it no more, and she turned and buried her face in her hands, and she was surprised to feel a pair of strong arms take her in their grip, and she looked up to see Dan Richfield. He had been in charge of her father's mines for years now and he had been invaluable to Jeremiah.

We all feel terrible, Sabrina. And we want you to know that we'll do anything in this world we can for you. His eyes were as shattered as hers, and he didn't even try to conceal that he'd been crying. He took her in his arms again then, and held her, but a moment later, she pulled herself free, and stood at the window staring out at the valley Jeremiah had loved so deeply. She spoke as though to herself, the scent of the wild flowers on the casket hanging heavy in the air, and Hannah's sobs clearly heard from the kitchen.

We never should have gone to San Francisco, Dan.

He looked at her pretty form, as she stood there, with her back to him. Don't torture yourself, Sabrina. He wanted to take you to town.

I shouldn't have let him. She turned to face the man who had been almost a son to her father. He was thirty-four years old, and had worked for the Thurston mines for twenty-three years, and he owed everything to her father. Without him, Dan would have been digging ditches somewhere, but thanks to Jeremiah, he ran the biggest mines in the state and was responsible for some five hundred men, and he did his job well, as her father had often told her.

He belonged here, and so do I. Her voice caught again, she had been consumed with guilt ever since she found him. I never should have let him take me to town. If I hadn't, he'd be alive now. ' The sobs choked her and overtook her again, and Dan was quick to comfort her again, holding her close to him, but each time he did, Sabrina felt as though she needed air. He held her too close, even though she knew he meant well. Perhaps it was his own grief that oppressed her. Oh God ' She walked around the room, looking back at Dan with heartbroken eyes. What'll I do without him?

You have time to think of that. Why don't you get some rest? She hadn't slept in two days and she looked it. Her face showed the ravages of her grief, and her eyes looked like bottomless pools of sorrow. You should go upstairs and lie down. Have Hannah bring you something to eat.

Sabrina shook her head, and brushed the tears from her cheeks with one hand. I should be taking care of her, she's in worse shape than I am, and I'm younger.

You have to take care of yourself. He stopped and looked at her for a long time, and their eyes held. There were things that he wanted to ask her, but they had to wait. It was too soon now, with her father lying there in the parlor. Come on, do you want me to take you upstairs? His voice was soft, and she smiled and shook her head. She could barely speak, she was so overcome by all that she felt. She couldn't imagine a life without her father.

I'll be all right, Dan. Why don't you go home? He had a wife and children to think of, and there was nothing he could do here. They had already made all the arrangements for the funeral the next day. Sabrina wanted him buried quickly. He would have wanted that himself, no fuss, and a simple ceremony. He would have been touched by the men lining the road when they arrived, and by the men who came one by one that night, just to stand staring at the heavy mahogany box in the front parlor, their heads bowed, their eyes damp. Sabrina came downstairs again and again, to shake their hands and to thank them. And Hannah kept a huge pot of coffee on the stove, and she made huge trays of sandwiches to feed them. She had known they would come, and she was glad to see that they did. Jeremiah Thurston had been the finest man they'd ever known, and they owed him the homage they now paid him.

It was after nine o'clock that night when a man walked up the front steps, wearing a dark suit and a tie. He had gray hair and black eyes, and a rugged face with well-etched features. He seemed to hesitate before he came in, and Hannah noticed that he had an air of command about him, and then suddenly she realized who he was and she went to tell Sabrina.

John Harte is here. He had remained her father's arch rival, but there had never been any ill feeling between them. John Harte kept his distance from everyone, that was just his way, and he never lost sight of the fact that he was in constant competition against the Thurston mines, but he never forgot Jeremiah's kindness either. The two men seldom met, but when they did, there was always a quiet look that passed between them, and when a disaster struck in one mine or the other, the other always showed up, or sent his men to offer assistance. John Harte no longer had a chip on his shoulder about Jeremiah Thurston. In fact, he admired him more than most men knew. And he was sorry now that he was gone. He had only met Sabrina a few times over the years, but she knew who he was and she walked toward him now, her black dress making her look taller and slimmer, and much older than her eighteen years. Her hair was pulled back in a tight knot, and her eyes were huge in her pale face, and she looked more like a woman than a girl as he shook her hand.

I came to pay my respects to your father, Miss Thurston. His voice was deep and smooth, and their eyes held for a long moment. His own daughter would have been only slightly older than she, had she lived. She had been three when she died, two years before Sabrina was born. He had never married again, although everyone knew that he had had the same woman for the last ten years. She lived with him at the mine, and she was an Indian of the Mayakma tribe. She was an exotic-looking woman and someone had pointed her out to Sabrina once. She was about twenty-six years old and she had two children of her own, but none by him. He wanted no more children, and no wife. He had sealed that part of his life forever, and Sabrina thought she could still see a hint of the old pain in his eyes as he looked at her. It was as though being here with her brought it back to him again, and she wasn't far wrong. He spoke in barely more than a whisper as they stood in the parlor, side by side, looking at the casket where Jeremiah lay. It brought painful memories back to him, and he had a lump in his throat when he spoke. He was with me ' when my boy died' . He glanced at Sabrina, and wondered if her father had ever told her about that, and of course he had.

I know ' he told me ' it made a great impression on him. Her voice was gentle as the wind, and he watched her eyes, liking what he saw there. She was a strong, intelligent girl, with unassuming ways and eyes that seemed to take everything in. He felt as though she were searching him as he wondered how old she was, and knew she couldn't be more than eighteen. He didn't think Thurston had been married when Matilda and the children died, and that had been twenty years ago that spring.

I never forgot his being there with me' .I barely knew him then. He sighed. We never knew each other very well. But I admired him. And his men thought a lot of him too. People in this valley have nothing but kind words to say about Jeremiah Thurston. He tore out her heart with his words, and her eyes filled with tears as she turned away and brushed them from her cheeks with her slender fingers.

I'm sorry ' I shouldn't have '

Not at all ' She smiled through her tears and took a deep breath. It was so unbelievable that he was gone. How could he be? She loved him so ' she had to fight back a sob, and reminded herself that she wasn't alone, as she looked up at John Harte. He was almost as tall as her father, and his hair was as dark as Jeremiah's had once been, although the gray had crept into his as well. He was forty-six years old, and still handsome, just as Jeremiah had been right till the end ' the end ' the end ' she couldn't bear the words. Would you like some coffee, Mr. Harte? Hannah has some in the kitchen. She waved vaguely toward the doorway.

No, I should let you get some rest. I know you came up from San Francisco today. Is it as bad as they say?

Worse. There are breadlines everywhere, rubble in the streets, toppled chimneys, everywhere you look charred buildings. ' The tears rose in her throat again and she shook her head, unable to speak for a moment. It was just awful. And my father ' She forced herself to go on, as John Harte watched her, aching for her. He was on the Committee of Fifty, to save the city ' it was just too much for him ' his heart, you know' . She didn't know why she was telling him all that. But suddenly she had to say the words, had to tell someone, even though she barely knew the man. I'm sorry' .

He held her shoulders in his powerful miner's hands. You have to get some rest. I know what you're going through. I did the same thing. I wandered and I ranted and I stayed on my feet until I almost went crazy. It'll only make it worse, Miss Thurston, believe me. Get some rest. You're going to need it for tomorrow. She nodded, the tears unchecked now on her cheeks. Suddenly she could no longer dam the flow. He was right. She was exhausted and half hysterical with grief. She just couldn't believe her father was dead, but when she looked into John Harte's eyes, she saw something comforting there. He was a nice man, in spite of what they said about him, that he was standoffish and proud, and something of a libertine, living with his Indian mistress. Perhaps that was why her father saw him so seldom. Sabrina correctly assumed that her father hadn't approved of John Harte's companion.

I'm sorry, Mr. Harte. I'm afraid you're right. It's been a terrible few days. And she was going to need her strength for the funeral the next day.

Is there anything I can do for you tomorrow?

No, thank you. Our manager is going to drive me to the funeral.

He's a good man. I know Dan Richfield well.

My father would have been lost without him, or so he said. Dan's worked for him since he was eleven.

John Harte smiled sadly at her. So much was going to change for her now, and he wanted to talk to her about it, but he didn't want to do it too soon. He had already mentioned it to Dan, and they had agreed that he should wait a week or two. She was still too much in shock to think about the mines, and Richfield could run them for her in the meantime. If there's anything I can do for you, Miss Thurston '

Thank you, Mr. Harte. She shook his hand again, and he left riding a big black stallion back to his mine, and his exotic Indian mistress.

Sabrina found herself wondering about him after he left, and what his mistress was like. All she remembered was a girl with jet black hair and a delicate dark brown face swathed in white furs the winter before when they had met somewhere. Sabrina had been intrigued, and her father had hastened to drive on, signaling only the briefest of greetings to John Harte, and ignoring the Indian girl in the white furs completely. Sabrina could still remember her questions to her father' Who is she, Daddy?

No one ' some squaw' .

But she's beautiful' . Sabrina had been fascinated by her, as though she knew that the alliance was clandestine and improper, which of course it was, except that John Harte had made no secret of it for more than nine years. As he saw it, he owed nothing to anyone, and he had a right to do exactly what he wanted. That was what he always had done, and he wasn't a man to mince words, or hide an Indian squaw somewhere out of the way. She was his woman and he was a freeman, so what the hell. She was so pretty, Daddy' .

I didn't notice.

Yes, you did. I saw you looking at her.

Sabrina! He pretended to be annoyed, but Sabrina knew him better.

Well, you did. I saw you. And she is a beautiful girl. What's wrong with that?