They ran down Mission Street toward the bay. Looking over her shoulder, Kate saw flames rise from several buildings, including Saint Mary’s Cathedral. Three generations of Greely’s had attended mass there since Sean and Paddy had arrived in San Francisco back in 1855. Finn and their son Michael had been baptized and confirmed there. She and Finn had been married there. Kate made the sign of the cross over her chest and asked God to keep Father Brian and Father Peter safe. Looking back toward the pub, it was now totally consumed by fire. 

Finn squeezed her hand, and she turned back to focus on the road ahead. “We’ll rebuild.” She promised herself. “We’ll rebuild.”

#

“That’s quite a story. Kate was a brave woman,” Anne said.

“Greely women have been the backbone of the family,” Liam admitted.

“Yes, they have.” Liam’s daughter, Molly, had entered the pub unnoticed and stood behind them. Tall, athletic, and self-assured, she looked more like a woman in her mid-twenties than thirty-five.

Liam’s face brightened. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt your story.” She sat down next to him and kissed his cheek. “How are you feeling, Da?”

“About the same.” He gave her a half-smile.

“Have you eaten today?” She put an arm across his shoulder.

“A piece of toast this morning. I’ve no appetite.”

“But I’ll bet you’ve had a pint or two.” Molly looked at Anne, who nodded.

“It’s the only thing that tastes good, so leave me be,” he muttered.

“You need to at least try to eat. How about I make you an omelet?” Molly asked.

“You don’t need to fuss over me. I do know how to cook if I get hungry.”

“All right, all right.” Molly raised her hands. “But you can’t live on Guinness alone,” she said as she got up and walked behind the bar to give her friend Tim a hug. “Is he behaving himself?” she asked.

“Of course. He’s a prince.” Tim smiled, then leaned close and whispered, “He went upstairs around noon and took a nap for a few hours.

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