worked as a guide. Who was that behind him? Someone clumsy and awkward. Couldn’t be an Indian. He went outside and watched as the two figures drew closer. Oh, my God.
Red faced and winded, the president of the Bank of the Golden Gate came struggling up the hillside behind Waneek. Yancy could hardly believe his eyes, not until the two arrived, and his brother, Ronald, gasping for breath, grabbed his arms and hung on, as if he might collapse at any moment.
“Yancy! My God, you were hard to find. I hope you’ve got some brandy in there. It’s the least I deserve after all you’ve put me through.”
During the next few hours, Yancy had to curb his curiosity. After Ronald paid Waneek and sent him on his way, he declared he must lie down and take a nap after his ordeal. He didn’t wake up till evening, declaring himself ravenously hungry. Happy to oblige, Yancy cooked up a meal of salmon, rice, and corn. Not until they sat down to eat at the table in front of the large stone fireplace, did they have a conversation. Ronald looked well rested now. He took a bite of salmon and breathed a sigh of contentment. “I swear, that’s the best salmon I ever had. Must be pretty fresh.”
“Fresh enough. I caught it while you were taking your nap.” Yancy took a close look at his brother. “I can’t believe you came clear across the continent just to see me.”
“I did,” Ronald answered between bites of his salmon. “Don’t you know about the transcontinental railroad? These are modern times, Yancy. You’ve got to keep up. There’s a train now. It’s not like I came across the plains in a covered wagon.”
No, he hadn’t heard about the transcontinental railroad but didn’t care to say so. “Do you know it’s been ten years since we’ve seen each other?”
“I remember that last time well. It was the day you joined the Union Army, and I took off for California when I should have…” Ronald’s eyebrows raised inquiringly. “Do you hold it against me that I didn’t join? After what you went through, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Who am I to judge? You did what you had to do.”
Looking relieved, Ronald spoke again. With a wry smile, he inquired, “Haven’t changed a bit, have I?”
“You’ve packed on a few pounds.” And that wasn’t the half of it. Ronald was ten years older than he was, but people used to say they looked alike. Ever since they parted all those years ago, Yancy pictured his older brother as the tall, slender young man with the full head of hair he used to know. But he wasn’t the same, not anymore. Besides the big gut and double chin he’d acquired, his hair had thinned. Only a few strands made a fruitless effort to cover a good-sized bald spot. He didn’t look healthy, either. No man of only forty-two years should have been panting and struggling for breath like Ronald did when he came up the hill. “How have you been? Be honest. Have you been taking care of yourself?”
Ronald met his questions with a burst of jovial laughter. “Fine. Feeling tip-top. You’d put on a little weight too if you lived in San Francisco. Best seafood in the world. I dine at the finest restaurants now, the Cliff House, the Tadich Grill, where all the millionaires go.” He fondly patted the considerable girth of his stomach. “One of these days I’ll get around to cutting back, but meantime I intend to enjoy myself. By the way, I’m married now.”
Yancy took note of the lack of enthusiasm in his brother’s voice. “That so? Tell me about her.”
“Well, let’s see now. Her name was Bernice Bolingbrook before I married her. Does the name sound familiar? If it doesn’t, it should. She’s the daughter of Edwin J. Bolingbrook, the railroad tycoon. Meeting her was the luckiest break I ever had. If it hadn’t been for her father, I could never have started my own bank.”
“That’s all well and good, but what is she like?”
“Uh…she’s on the flighty side. Pretty, though. Nice figure.”
Uh-oh. Ronald’s lukewarm description told him a lot. “Any children?”
His brother’s eyes lit with love and pride. “I have a little girl. Name’s Elizabeth, only we call her Beth for short. She’s five now. Pretty as a picture. My son, Richard, is eight and smart as a whip. We play chess together, and he’s beginning to beat me.” He chuckled. “Not that I mind. My children are the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Glad to hear that.” Up to now, Yancy had tip-toed around the big question. He’d delayed it long enough. “So tell me, how is Mother doing?”
“That’s why I’m here.” Ronald put down his fork, reached for his glass of brandy, and downed a generous slug. “Mother is dying.”
He’d suspected what Ronald was going to say, but even so, the words hit like a wallop to his stomach. For a moment, he bent his head, pulling some much-needed air into his lungs. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s been sickly for quite a while. Then recently the doctor found a tumor in her stomach. It’s getting worse, Yancy. She’s in a lot of pain now. The doctor’s giving her large doses of laudanum. She talks about you all the time.” Ronald got an accusatory look in his eye. “Didn’t you get my letters?”
“I got them. Just didn’t think it could be anything serious.”
“Her only wish is she wants to see you before she goes. You always were her favorite, even though I was the good one and you were nothing but trouble. Am I asking too much?” Tears welled in Ronald’s eyes, a sight Yancy had never seen before. “We couldn’t have asked for a better mother, so here I am, come clear across the country to tell you so.”
“You don’t have to tell me, I know.” He rose from his chair, walked to the window, and looked to where the fading rays of the sun cast long shadows over the lake’s still waters. Some deer stood at the water’s edge. Only three, but sometimes there were more. They’d come for their evening drink like they did every night. Yancy never tired of watching them, one of the many pleasures of living in the wilderness. He closed his eyes and saw his mother’s face before him. “I remember all those times she stood up for me against Father, even when I least deserved it. She never gave up on me, though. When I was in the army, she used to send me things she’d made herself. I’ve still got the gloves she knit, and the…”
Damn, he was as bad as Ronald, getting all choked up.
He returned to the table and sat. “You’ve got to understand, I wouldn’t stay.”
“Anything you want. Of course, if you change your mind, you have a job waiting in my bank.”
“My home is here. I want nothing to do with San Francisco. I’d say my goodbyes to Mother and then return.”
“Absolutely.” Ronald’s face wreathed in a smile. “You might find our trip more enjoyable than you expect.” He patted his breast pocket. “We’ll be traveling in style, my dear brother. In here I’ve got two tickets on the Union Pacific train to California.”
Chapter 3
June 7, 1870
Dear Mr. Romano,
I am writing in answer to your advertisement in the Matrimonial News. I am an unattached female, twenty-five years old, of good character. Dark brown hair, with a slender figure. I enjoy fun and social gatherings and am told I have a pleasing disposition. I am 5 feet 6 inches tall and weigh 123 pounds. I play piano and enjoy reading. I am in every way qualified to appreciate and care for a partner in marriage and a good home.
If you care to respond, please tell me more about yourself and your restaurant.
Sincerely yours,
Miss Belle Ainsworth, Savannah, Georgia
July 13th, 1870
Dear Miss Ainsworth,
I am in receipt of your letter of June 7th and can’t tell you how pleased I am that you chose to respond to my advertisement in the Matrimonial News. Of the several replies