Into the Whirlwind (46 page)

“What about Colonel Lowe?”

She shook her head. “Richard is a wonderful man, but I grew exhausted trying to live up to his expectations. He went back to Waukegan last night. He won’t be back.”

“I see.” His tone was indifferent and his stance was relaxed, but the sun was starting to blaze inside him. When Mollie slid her arms around his neck, he pulled her into a hug so hard it probably drove the breath from her lungs. He couldn’t help it. He breathed deeply of her scent and pressed a trail of kisses along her forehead.

“I feel safe with you,” she said against his cheek. “Even that night as we were racing through the fire, I felt safe with you beside me.”

He froze. Disappointment came crashing down and his arms fell away. He should have known this was too good to be true. It was impossible to even look at her as he tugged her arms down from around his neck. It took every bit of strength he had to walk away from her, his back stiff as he stared out the front window.

“Mollie, I’ve never been a safe choice for you. I don’t even have a job. Do you understand what that means?”

“You just arranged the sale of thirty-six watches to a jeweler on the Ponte Vecchio.”

He whirled to face her. “That was a one-time deal, and it was
your
deal. Mollie, I don’t have a job. I can’t promise to keep you safe and protected like Colonel L—”

She cut him off. “
I am safe with you
. I can be myself and make mistakes, and I know you’ll forgive me. You’ve already done so time and again.” She walked to him, and when he tried to turn away, she grabbed his shoulders and forced him to look at her. “I remember when you came to visit me at the church. I was hungry and dirty and didn’t even have a roof over my head, but when you were with me the world was perfect. And I was happy. I had a sense of purpose and belonging with you by my side. There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.”

He was embarrassed that his hands trembled as he cupped them around her face. “I can’t go through you walking out on
me again,” he said. “I’ve got skin tougher than a rhinoceros hide, but I’ve always been a big weakling when it comes to you. If you want back into my life, it has to be for good this time.”

“For better or for worse, for richer or poorer . . . is that what you mean?”

“Till death do us part. Yeah, that’s what I’m getting at.”

Her face was beautiful and shining and confident. “That’s what I want too.”

The breath left his body in a rush. The way she gazed up at him with hope sparkling in her fabulous blue eyes . . . he was hot and dizzy and was about to make a real fool of himself. He needed air. Fast. Stumbling toward the window, he jerked up the sash and braced his hands on the windowsill, dragging in huge gulps of oxygen. Cool air blew in from the window, but he was still swamped with heat and could not stop trembling. He would be lucky if he didn’t pass out right here.

“Are you all right?” Mollie asked in a panicky voice. She dashed to hover beside him, kneeling down to look up into his face. “Do I need to get you something? Water? A chair?”

Maybe a spine
. Curled over the windowsill, he doubted he had the ability to stand upright on his own. His insane gamble of granting Mollie breathing room with Colonel Lowe had finally paid off. Mollie had had the chance to know both men, and she had made her choice. She’d come back to him, and she wasn’t leaving again.

A slow grin curled his mouth as he looked out the window. “I’m okay, Mollie. Everything is okay now.”

And he knew it would be. They lived in a vibrant city, one that was impossible to hold down. The smoke and the clouds had cleared, and sunlight was shining again. He couldn’t know exactly what the future held, but was that so bad? The Lord had never promised them an easy life, nor did they have one.
Faith and hope had already powered them through a terrible, wonderful time.

When his head stopped spinning, he was finally able to stand upright again, even though he kept both hands braced on the window frame just to be sure. Mollie stood behind him, her arms sliding around his waist as she hugged him from behind. He reached down to squeeze her hands as they looked out the window. The woman he loved was standing with him, ready to walk beside him into a city where he would forever be challenging, testing, and pushing the limits. They had forged a bond that would glimmer through the darkest nights and survive the worst firestorms, and now they would ride the whirlwind together.

Epilogue

T
WO
Y
EARS
L
ATER
M
AY
13, 1874

I
want to test the bell one more time,” Mollie said, peering up inside the clock tower.

Oliver swiveled to look at her. “We’ve already checked it twice. Do we really need another test?” Slats of sunlight filtered in beneath the bleachers, which would soon be filled with thousands of people as they poured in to the brand-new baseball stadium, ready to see the White Stockings make their triumphal return to the city. It was two years, seven months, and five days since the city of Chicago had burned to the ground. In a few hours, the new stadium would host Chicago’s first professional baseball game since the fire.

“The mayor is going to be at this game,” Mollie said. “As is the governor and every alderman in the city. If my bell doesn’t ring precisely on the stroke of five o’clock, it will be a humiliation I will carry into my grave.”

Oliver shook his head, but he was smiling as he climbed up the ladder inside the clock tower to reset the dial. Over the past
two years, the 57th had built and installed dozens of public clocks, but this was the first one to feature a bell that would ring on the hour. The centerpiece of the new stadium was the grand white clapboard façade that stretched across the back row of bleachers. It featured a scoreboard and a row of box seats flaring out from each side, but what gave the stadium distinction was the cupola in the center, featuring a clock tower rising above the scoreboard. The bell was to ring at the top of every hour, and this afternoon it would herald the return of baseball to the city.

Mollie stood on the gravel beneath the bleachers and listened to the grind of the suspension chains as Oliver reset the clock’s hands to one minute before the hour. “All right, one more time,” Oliver hollered from inside the bell tower.

The minute hand clicked into place, and Mollie covered her ears. A second later the reassuring gong echoed through the narrow chamber with five strong, steady tones.

Oliver climbed down, looking pleased with himself. As much as he’d grumbled about moving into clockmaking, he seemed ten years younger since he had undertaken the new challenge.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

She brushed her damp palms against her skirt. “As much as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

She’d feel better once Zack got there. Change was still something Mollie struggled with, but she was learning to let life unfold without smothering every day with new insecurities. If the past two years had taught her nothing else, she now accepted there were no guarantees in life, but she’d still be able to survive whatever traumas came her way. Plan, prepare, and pray . . . but eventually she had to let go and allow the world to unfold as it was intended. Zack had been a tremendous help in teaching her these things.

Which, given his chosen profession, was a good thing. Really, she must have been insane to marry a politician.

An hour later, she was sitting beside Zack in the bleachers. They could have joined the mayor and the governor in the reserved seats near the front of the stadium, but Zack never missed an opportunity to rub shoulders with the people from his ward. Shortly after the new insurance laws had been finalized, Zack had run for alderman, representing one of the Polish wards on the city’s northwest side. He was a born politician, creating an unusual alliance between the Polish and Irish workers and pushing reforms not only in insurance, but also in building regulations and fire safety. On the day baseball finally returned to Chicago, Zack wanted to be sitting alongside the people who’d voted him into office.

The weather was clear, the food smelled wonderful, and Mollie grinned as she joined Zack in the bleachers. She had never even
liked
baseball, but today she was the White Stockings’s biggest fan. They were a symbol of hope and a return to normal. Five thousand people filled the new stadium, and the air was electric with anticipation, especially once the players appeared in the bullpens and began stretching their muscles and swinging bats.

The players jogged into place on the field, and an umpire took position behind home plate, tossing a ball between his hands. Mollie eyed the clock, the huge minute hand just a fraction shy of five o’clock.

A flash of tension raced through her. Had Oliver remembered to reset the hour train line? They’d tested the clock several times, but if he hadn’t remembered to pull that train line back into position after that final test . . .

“Relax, Mollie,” Zack said. “I’m sure Oliver reset everything correctly.”

Before he even stopped speaking, the minute hand clicked into place and a clear, echoing gong rang forth. It worked! The resonance of the gong was magnified by the stadium. It echoed throughout the stadium, bouncing off the bleachers before being carried off by the wind. How many times had Mollie imagined this precise moment?

What she had not foreseen was the hush that descended on the crowd. Everyone stilled. People held their breath. When the second gong sounded, spectators began to rise to their feet, the new bleachers creaking and groaning as thousands began to rise. A third gong, and then a fourth.

The White Stockings’s pitcher began jogging to the center of the field. Tears blurred her vision as a buzz of excitement raced through the crowd. The final bell sounded, and the umpire stepped forward, his voice firm and confident.

“Play ball!”

The crowd roared with a cheer that could be heard across the entire city.

Historical Note

T
he Great Chicago Fire of 1871 began in a barn owned by Catherine and Patrick O’Leary on DeKoven Street. Legend says the fire began when a cow being milked by Mrs. O’Leary kicked over a lantern, but years later a newspaper reporter admitted he made the tale up. The details of how the fire started will never be known, but it did indeed begin in the O’Leary barn. Catherine O’Leary became a recluse and rarely left the safety of her home until her death in 1895.

Driven by gale-force winds, the fire devoured the city, which had been parched of rain all year. In the month before the fire, only .11 inches of rain had fallen. The wall of flame was estimated to be a hundred feet high, and the winds whipping down the alleys created columns of fire that resembled tornadoes. The force of the wind picked up wooden boards and shingles, flinging them through the air and spreading the fire north and east toward Lake Michigan.

In the following thirty-six hours, the mayor of Chicago wired other cities to send fire brigades, many of which arrived while the flames were still burning. Fire companies as far away as
Milwaukee, Detroit, and Cincinnati arrived and did their best to contain the fire, but at three o’clock on the morning of October 9, the roof of the city’s waterworks became engulfed in flames. When it collapsed onto the pumping station below, all hope of saving the city was lost. Evacuation was the only recourse, and it is estimated that over 330,000 people flooded the streets in an effort to escape the flames.

By the morning of October 10, the fire had burned itself out, aided by the miraculous arrival of a rainstorm. Over 73 miles of streets, 18,000 buildings, and 2,000 lampposts were destroyed. Although the death toll will never be known, it is estimated that only around three hundred people died.

In the days following the fire, some references spoke of the strange euphoria among the survivors. It did not last long. In the coming weeks and months, crime rose and despair took root as the magnitude of the loss sank in. At the time of the fire, about two hundred insurance companies did business in Chicago, and the fire bankrupted sixty-eight of them. Policyholders in Chicago only succeeded in collecting about 40 percent of what was owed to them, although many who were insured through local companies received nothing at all. The catastrophe in Chicago revealed the inadequacy of existing insurance laws, and local boards were established and regulations governing geographic diversification for insurance companies were put into place.

The town crier who wandered the streets shouting words of comfort in the dark morning hours is fictional, but I took many of the lines my character spoke directly from signs people propped outside their ruined homes, proclaiming hope and belief in their city. That faith was not misplaced. Although the central business district was destroyed, Chicago was rebuilt with amazing speed. Most of the railroads survived intact, allowing them
to be used to haul away rubble and send in massive amounts of building supplies.

The fire encouraged iron and steel construction in the new buildings. As the price of land rose and steel-frame construction became viable, Chicago was the perfect location to test the construction of skyscrapers. Some of the most famous architects of the era congregated in Chicago to build these dynamic new skyscrapers, featuring bold designs of steel-frame construction, fireproof cladding, and clean lines. The trend caught on around the world, but no matter where it appears, this style of architecture is still known as the Chicago School.

Discussion Questions

1. Near the end of the book when Mollie still longs for life before the fire, Zack says “sometimes it is the hardest things that make us great.” What are the really hard things in your life? Do they have hidden blessings, or would you wish them away if you could?
   
2. Before the fire, Sophie had an endless supply of entertainment but had never been required to work. Although entertainment is fun, can it ever provide a sense of satisfaction? In our modern era, when children have limitless sources of entertainment, how can we teach them the value that comes from doing something hard?
   
3. Mollie has two attractive suitors. Did she make the right choice?
   
4. Colonel Lowe has a strong moral code, while Zack often bends the rules. Do you agree with the deal Zack cut with Ralph Coulter to get his nephews into college in exchange for details about who killed Frank? Does this mean Zack doesn’t have a moral code?
   
5. The dentist, Andrew Buchanan, had no family and craved the sense of belonging he finds at the church and with Zack’s family. Do you know anyone in your neighborhood or workplace who seems rootless? What would it cost (or benefit) you to bring that person into the fold?
   
6. During the fire, Mollie notices the best and worst of people as they struggle to escape the flames. What made some people become drunken revelers while others allowed their own homes to burn in order to help others? Is it possible to predict who will be a hero during a crisis and who will act selfishly?
   
7. Zack has immense loyalty and respect for Louis Hartman, who pulled him off the docks and launched him in the business world. Yet, at a crucial point, Zack turns his back on Louis in order to finalize insurance reform in the city. Was he right to do so? What happens when personal gratitude is at war with loyalty to a larger cause?
   
8. Mollie was never able to warm up to Colonel Lowe, even though she wanted to. Why was this? What would your advice to Mollie have been? Have you ever experienced this type of situation?
   
9. Near the end of the book, Mollie grabs a can of peaches to bring to a fancy party. Did you agree more with her response or with Colonel Lowe’s? Have you ever felt pushed into a social obligation when more pressing concerns from work or family were already stretching you too thin? Is there a better way to handle it than turning in a substandard performance?
   
10. Zack’s attitude toward his Polish heritage strengthens throughout the book. Why is this? Do you have an ethnic, religious, or cultural heritage that has evolved over the years?