Cole threw his arms around his friend and pounded Patsy on the back. "What about you?" he asked.
"Sure and I'm never better!" Patsy's expression, jubilant over his seeing Cole, now fell as he thought about what else was going on. "But I can't say the same about poor old San Francisco. The whole blessed town seems to be ablaze, and there's no water!"
Cole gripped Patsy's arms. "No water?" he repeated. "What do you mean, there's no water?"
"The new mains were all busted by the earthquake! We've got little or no water pressure anywhere in the city. We used what was in the tanks of the pumpers mighty fast, and once 'twas gone, we couldn't refill 'em!"
Cole wasn't able to stop himself from letting out a groan. "How can anybody put out the fires without water?"
Patsy shook his head. "The lieutenant says the rumor is that the army's comin' in from the Presidio. Says they're going to try to blow out the fires with dynamite."
"It won't work," Annabel said.
Both Cole and Patsy turned to look at her. "What do you mean?" Cole asked.
"It won't work," she said again. "Dynamite won't put out the fires. They're too widespread. And the explosions will just scatter burning debris and make the fires worse."
Cole looked at her for a long moment. He had no explanation for her uncanny ability to predict what was going to happen. But the important thing was, so far she had been right. She probably was about this, too, he figured. If they could get to the authorities in time to warn them about the dangers of using dynamite—
In the distance, a dull boom sounded, followed by another and then another. Too late, Cole thought. Too late. The blasting had already started.
Patsy must have read the grim expression on his face, because the little Irishman said gently, "Och, they probably wouldn't have believed ye anyway, lad. The best thing ye can do now is to see to you and yours."
Cole nodded slowly. Patsy was right. Cole looked at Annabel and said, "I'd like to check on my house, and I'm sure you want to see if Mrs. Noone is all right."
"Yes, I would," she said. "But the fires . . ."
"We couldn't slop them by ourselves. And they won't be put out anytime soon. We'll still have our chance at them."
Patsy said, "The lieutenant sent me with this pumper t' see if by some miracle we had pressure back here at the station. Let me check on that, and if there's no water to be had, I'll take the two o' ye up Russian Hill 'fore I head back."
"Thanks, Patsy," Cole said. "Let's go check that water main."
Unfortunately, only a few drops of water trickled out of the main when Cole turned the valve to open it. Patsy shook his head. " 'Tis like that all over the city. How in Hades can anybody fight a fire without water?"
The explosions were still going on in the distance. According to Annabel, the dynamite was doing more harm than good. But Patsy was right: The army officers responsible for the decision to use explosives in an attempt to snuff out the blazes would not have listened to any warnings once their minds were made up.
Cole, Annabel, and Patsy climbed onto the pumper, and Patsy took up the reins once more. He backed the horses out of the firehouse and hauled them around so that the pumper was soon rolling toward Russian Hill.
****
"Gone, all gone," Cole muttered as he stared at the flattened wreckage of what had once been his house.
Patsy had let them off at the base of the steep steps that led to the top of Russian Hill. That was the quickest way to reach the street where Cole's house had stood—until a little after five o'clock this morning.
Annabel touched his arm, knowing that he had to be feeling pain at the sight of his destroyed home. The house had been home not only to Cole, but to his mother and father as well. Cole had grown up there, had never really known any other place to call home. And now, like he said, it was gone forever.
Abruptly, he turned to Annabel and put his arms around her, drawing her into a fierce hug. "Cole?" she said, her voice squeaking a little because he was holding her so tightly.
"I'm so glad you followed me last night," he said in a hoarse whisper. "If you hadn't, you'd have been here when . . .when . . ."
He couldn't make himself go on. He was realizing just how close he had come to losing her.
"I'm here, Cole," she whispered back to him as she returned his hug. "I'm here with you, and I'll always be here."
She lifted her head, and his mouth found hers in a kiss that blended love and sorrow and relief. They stood there like that for a long moment, clinging to each other in front of the ruins of the house that would have been home to both of them.
The house could be rebuilt, Annabel thought as she gloried in the warmth and strength of his embrace and his kiss. As long as they were together—that was all that really mattered.
Patsy had promised to wait for them. They turned away from the wreckage and went back down the steps. As Patsy looked at them inquiringly, Cole said in a taut voice, "The house is gone."