Free Gold Mountain by Karen J. Hasley Page A

Fei Yen could rearrange the child’s pillow against her back and settle the tray in place on her lap.
    “She’s a tough little bird,” I said in English.
    “We are all tough little birds here,” Fei Yen responded in English, standing and looking over at me, “and smart enough to recognize a safe nest when we see one.”
    Fei Yen’s words made me realize that both she and the dainty Lu Chu I’d met yesterday had probably been in a similar situation to the little bird now happily slurping down broth. I felt humbled again because had I come from such a dreadful past, I doubted if I would carry myself with their same soft grace and gentleness.
    “You’ll let Miss Cameron know I was here,” I said, stopping at the bedroom door.
    “Of course, but she won’t need to be told. When she left this morning, she told all of us, ‘When Miss Hudson arrives, take her straight upstairs. She’ll be worried about the child and won’t want to spend time in conversation until she assures herself that the little girl is making progress.’ She said when, not if, so she was quite certain of your arrival.”
    “Miss Cameron is very perceptive.”
    “Lo Mo understands people very well, but she seems to understand you especially well.”
    “Am I that easy to read?”
    “When I look in your face, Miss Hudson, something of Lo Mo looks back at me. Perhaps that similarity allows her to apply the same insight to your nature that she applies to herself.”
    I accepted the words as a generous compliment and said so.
    In return, Fei Yen dipped her head in a small bow. “The words were intended as a compliment, Miss Hudson,” she agreed and turned back to Suey Wah.
    Downstairs I said good-bye to Miss Thompson and the petite Lu Chu, who stood in the hallway next to the housekeeper.
    “Miss Cameron will be sorry to have missed you today,” Miss Thompson commented, “but I’m told we will see quite a lot of you over the next few weeks.”
    “I hope I can be of some small service.” I pulled on my gloves and repeated my good-byes to both women.
    I returned to 920 the next morning earlier than I had originally planned because at breakfast Ruth, with healthy color in her cheeks and sparkling eyes, announced that she felt wonderful and then asked if I could join her for a long-delayed shopping trip.
    “Martin has promised both of us new gowns for the cotillion, and I know several establishments that carry the latest fabric and pattern books from New York. I can’t wait to get started. I have an idea for you, Dinah, that will make you the new darling of San Francisco.”
    “I don’t want to be the darling of San Francisco, Ruth,” and then responded to the teasing look in my sister’s eyes with a begrudging grin. “As you well know.”
    “Wouldn’t you like to be someone’s darling, though?”
    “Only if I could be sure I’d be as happy as you and Martin.” I sidestepped her leading question and continued, “I’m glad to see you feeling better and I don’t want to waste the moment, but I would like to visit 920 and see how little Suey Wah is first. I’ll go right now and promise I’ll be back by lunch.”
    The distance between Grove and Sacramento Streets was not all that great and after two visits I had already become familiar enough with the route that I could take shortcuts that made the trip easier and quicker. I couldn’t do anything about the hills, however, and when I arrived at 920, I was breathing heavily from the exertion of the incline.
    A figure in uniform stood on the doorstep ahead of me, and I heard the heavy thud of his knock as I drew near. He must have heard my approach—no doubt my inelegant panting could be heard for miles—because he turned to face me, and I recognized the attractive face of Colin O’Connor, the young policeman from the Chinatown Squad.
    “How do you do, Miss Hudson? You might not remember me. I’m—”
    I stepped next to him and looked up at his face. “Of course, I remember