“I’ll be back to my old self sooner than you think.” He looked up, and I saw my reflection in his smile. I looked like Mama the most, but I’d inherited parts of my parents’ features from 1849, as well. “And we’ll get that school started, Ally. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I miss teaching,” I agreed, not wanting to encourage him about the school when I had other plans for him. At least for the short-term.
“Ally was a fine teacher,” Father said to Sam as he poured maple syrup on his flapjacks. “One of the best I’ve ever had the privilege of working with. She’s intelligent and patient—two important qualities for a good teacher.”
Sam’s gaze found mine, and the admiration I saw there warmed my cheeks.
As Father ate, he kept up a lively conversation with Hazel about the different kinds of animals she’d seen on the trip from Massachusetts to California. He tried drawing Johnnie in, but the little boy just stared at him. Though Johnnie didn’t speak, I knew he was absorbing everything he heard. Father loved to teach, and he especially enjoyed engaging conversation.
Paddy listened, working quietly alongside me and Sam.
When I left the kitchen to retrieve the last of the dishes in the empty dining room, Sam followed.
As he pushed chairs into place around the tables, he said, “I need to purchase supplies today. I was wondering if you’d like tocome.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I could show you the new hotel and restaurant I’m building.”
His invitation surprised me, but I wasn’t sure why. “What about the children?”
“Paddy can stay with them.”
I paused as I reached for a plate, uncertain.
“He may not speak much,” Sam said, as if reading my thoughts, “but Paddy understands everything. He was an intelligent man before—” He paused. “He’s still smart and very capable. He would not let anything hurt them. You have my word.”
I sensed that Sam’s word was one of the most important things he had to offer, and I found myself trusting him.
Best of all, after I nodded, I was rewarded with another smile.
When Hazel and I had been looking for a different place to live, we hadn’t made it to Portsmouth Square, but seeing it now, I stood in amazement. It was the most civilized part of San Francisco I’d yet seen with wooden buildings, real glass windows, and men in business suits. There were even a few respectable women with children in tow, carrying baskets for shopping.
The square was large and sat on a leveled spot of ground on the sloping hill toward the bay. It had taken significant effort to walk up Washington Street from Montgomery Street, but the reward was worth it.
“Do you see that building over there?” Sam asked, pointing to a corner of the square and a building partially completed.
“Yes.”
“That will be the San Francisco Hotel. My hotel.”
The way he said “my hotel,” with pride in his voice, made me glance up at him in the bright sunshine. He wasn’t looking at me, but at the building, and I could see how much it meant to him.
“I’ve saved every penny I’ve made since I arrived here in April,” he continued, “so I could purchase the best piece of property inthe city. The lot cost fifty thousand dollars, and the hotel will cost thirty-five thousand to build.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. In Concord, a building like that, on a nice piece of property, might sell for four or five thousand dollars. But I knew he was charging the men five dollars for a meal at Bess’s Place, and the cost of everything was exorbitant in San Francisco. No doubt he’d get his money’s worth out of it in no time.
“Would you like to see inside?” he asked, sounding more like a child on Christmas morning than a large and intimidating man in one of California’s most dangerous towns.
“Of course.”
We walked across the square. The sound of hammers and saws, an ever-constant companion in San Francisco, dimmed in the background as people stopped to stare at us. I had become used to being ogled by the men, but this time, they weren’t staring at me.
“Just keep walking,” Sam said, putting his hand on the small of my back as a group of men in business suits glared at him.
“Get back to where you belong,” one of them said.
“We don’t want your kind on the Hill,” said another. “We got enough trouble up here as it is.”
Sam continued to walk as if he hadn’t heard them.
I wanted to ask him about it, but I didn’t want to embarrass him.
