All of Sam’s hard work—his entire fortune—was going up in flames.
I tried to pull Sam onto my back, but he was so large, it was impossible. Tears filled my eyes as hopelessness set in.
Suddenly, out of the smoke, Paddy appeared. I cried out in relief as he grabbed Sam’s hands and began to pull him toward the front door.
I was weak and disoriented, but I scrambled to follow them, tripping over items that had been lying on the floor from construction. Embers fell all around us, but we continued to the front door.
Father was still there, looking frantic.
He put his arm around me as we stepped outside under the canopy of stars and the billowing smoke.
The bucket brigade had already turned to the building next to Sam’s hotel, dousing it so it wouldn’t catch fire. They’d abandoned trying to save the hotel, knowing it would be futile.
Several people stepped forward to help Paddy move Sam farther away from the burning building as I followed, taking Hazel’s and Johnnie’s hands and moving them with us.
I couldn’t bear to watch the hotel burn.
The sun had started to creep toward the horizon as our ragtag family trudged toward Bess’s Place in Sydney Town. Tears streaked down the children’s soot-stained cheeks, and Father limped from turning his ankle as he ran buckets for the brigade.
I tried not to cry as I pictured Sam’s hotel and all our things in a pile of ashes on Portsmouth Square. The quick thinking of the business owners and neighbors had stopped the spread of the fire, but it hadn’t prevented us from losing everything. Our trunks with all our clothes, books, and personal belongings were gone.
Sam had regained consciousness not long after we took him outside, and he had tried valiantly to join the fight, but he was unsteady on his feet as Bess’s Place came into view.
None of us said a word. What was there to say? There was no law or justice in San Francisco. No one to arrest English Jim. The only thing Sam could do was retaliate, and by the look in his eyes, I knew he was tempted, but I prayed he wouldn’t do anything foolish.
We’d already lost so much.
“I’ll take the kids to the well and wash up before we try to get some sleep,” Father said. His body was still recovering from his illness, and he looked exhausted and pale.
Among my list of prayers was that he wouldn’t relapse.
As Father led the children around to the back of the property, Sam climbed the steps to the porch. There, he unlocked the front door and pushed it open. He’d had offers from people interested in purchasing the building and lot, but he’d been too busy to see to the sale. Thankfully, we still had shelter. But what would stop English Jim from putting a torch to this place? Was one building enough vengeance for him?
We stepped into the dim interior, and Sam took a seat on the first stool he found.
Paddy stood for a moment as if he didn’t know what to do next.
I closed the door and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of soot that covered our bodies. Then I walked over to Sam to inspect the wound on his head. “You need a doctor.”
He moved away from my hand, his body stiff with anger. “I need to find Jim.”
“Please don’t do anything foolish.” I sat on a stool next to him. “I can’t lose you.”
“Why not? You won’t be here for long.”
His words stung, but I knew they came from a place of bitter disappointment and anger. I glanced at Paddy, but he couldn’t understand what Sam meant because he didn’t know I was a time-crosser.
“What about Hazel and Johnnie?” I put my hand on Sam’s arm. “They need you.”
Sam put his face in his hands and shook his head. “What will we do? We lost everything.”
“We still have the gold and this place. And we still have the lot on Portsmouth Square.”
“I won’t take your gold.”
“Why not? It’s there for this very purpose.”
“It belongs to your father and Hazel.”
