“Father told me he wants you to have it. We’re family now, Sam.”
“I-I sleep.” Paddy pointed to the stairs.
Sam stood, swaying a second on his feet, and then walked to Paddy. Putting his hand on Paddy’s shoulder, he said, “Thank you for saving my life.”
“Friend.” Paddy grasped Sam’s arm, a smile pulling up one side of his face. “For-for-ever.”
“Yes.” Sam nodded. “Forever.”
With a glance at me, Paddy left the dining room and walked up the stairs.
“We should all get some sleep,” Sam said as he turned back to me, the weight of his cares heavy on his shoulders.
I stood, needing to give him my love and encouragement. “I’m sorry, Sam.”
He opened his arms, and I stepped into his embrace. “I’m sorry, too, Ally. This wasn’t how I wanted to spend our wedding night.”
As I held him, I couldn’t stop thinking about what was bothering me.
Was this the fire that was supposed to kill Sam and me? Had the authors ofThe Annals of SanFranciscogotten the dates wrong? And, if they had, did that mean history had changed? Could I stay in 1849 now?
I would try to find out tomorrow.
24
October 11, 1929
Hollywood, California
The next morning, all I could think about was getting to the library to look atTheAnnalsofSanFrancisco. I had returned the book several weeks ago when it was due and hadn’t thought I would need it again. After getting dressed, I grabbed my purse and walked down the back stairs into the kitchen.
Mama stood at the counter, taking muffins out of a tin and putting them on a cooling rack. She stopped when she saw me, her eyes glowing. “How was the wedding?”
The wedding. I’d almost forgotten I was married.
Almost.
Sam and I had collapsed into bed the night before, exhausted, and we’d quickly fallen asleep.
“It was nice.”
“Nice? My daughter gets married, and all she tells me is that it was nice?”
“What can I say?” I paused. “It was in a little canvas church on Montgomery Street. The pastor’s wife served a small luncheon afterward, and then we went back to the hotel to work for the rest of the day.” I swallowed the pain that surfaced thinking about the hotel.
Mama left the muffins and came to me. “What’s wrong, Ally?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t lie or avoid the question. And when she found out I was going to the library, I would have to tell her why. “Someone set fire to the hotel soon after we went to bed. Everything is lost.”
Mama’s eyes widened. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Not by the fire, and I thank God for that. But Sam hit his head, and if it wasn’t for Paddy’s help, he would have died in the fire, and I would have probably succumbed to the smoke trying to get him out.”
She frowned. “Isn’t that how you’re both supposed to die?”
“Yes, but it’s too early, unless history changed or the authors of the history book got the date wrong.”
The sound of the grandfather clock struck nine as she stared at me. “You think someone changed history?”
