A Ready-Made Amish Family

by Jo Ann Brown

  Oh, how she wished she could believe that! The thought of not seeing them every day cramped her heart. She couldn’t think about never spending time with Isaiah again. If she did, she wasn’t sure she could continue with their tacit agreement to pretend nothing had changed.

  A motion caught her eye, and she looked out the window. A half scream burst from her throat when she saw smoke was curling out of the stable window. Fire!

  She threw the dishcloth in the sink and raced out the back door. Where were the kinder? They’d been in the yard moments ago.

  Screaming their names, she grabbed the garden hose. It was too short. It’d never reach the stable. She needed to call for help. But she couldn’t when she didn’t know where the twins were. She shrieked their names again, scraping her throat raw.

  Andrew burst out of the gray cloud. He yelled for help. She grasped his shoulders and shook him to reach past his terror.

  “Where are the others?” she asked.

  He pointed at the stable.

  “Go and call the fire department,” she ordered as she gave him a shove toward the phone shack. “Call 911! Tell the firemen to come right away. Can you do that?”

  “Ja.” His voice trembled on the single word.

  “Go!”

  She ran to the stable. A single glance over her shoulder told her Andrew was speeding toward the end of the farm lane as fast as his legs could pump. She hoped he could do what she’d asked. If he couldn’t, she’d have to make the call herself.

  After she made sure the kinder and her horse were out of the burning building.

  The smoke met her at the door. Hot and smothering and as solid as a wall, it tried to drive her back from the fire’s domain. She pushed forward. Holding her hands over her nose and mouth, she scanned the stable. Thick smoke hid the ceiling and reached almost to the floor. She heard her horse moving in panic.

  Clara lowered her hands enough to cry out, “Ammon!” Oh, dear Lord, let him be able to hear me! “Nancy! Nettie Mae! Where are you?”

  She heard muffled sobs. The stall in front of her on her right side. Holding her apron over her nose and mouth, she ran in. She almost tripped over two small forms huddled in one corner beside a bale of hay.

  “Clara!” they called together, jumping to their feet. Nancy and Nettie Mae!

  “Is Ammon with you?”

  The girls looked at each other but didn’t answer.

  She knelt and grasped each one by the shoulder. Closer to the floor, the air wasn’t as thick with smoke. She sent up a grateful prayer as she repeated her question. When the girls hesitated, she hurried to say, “We need to get out of here.”

  Rising, she pushed them ahead of her to the door. She shoved them out and gasped a deep breath of the fresher air. Again she asked them where Ammon was.

  Both girls shrugged, their eyes wide with terror.

  Telling them to go to the front porch and wait there, she turned to head back in. Where should she look? Flames were licking along the eaves. She wouldn’t have much time to find the little boy.

  A small hand tugged her skirt before she could move. Nettie Mae!

  “Ammon hiding, too,” the little girl said.

  “Where?”

  “He not mean to—”

  “I know he’s sorry.” She didn’t have time for the kind to explain. “But where is he? Do you know?”

  “He love Bella.”

  Clara hoped she was translating the little girl’s cryptic statement. Ammon had gone to rescue her horse. If she was wrong, she wouldn’t have another chance. Even if she was right...

  She told Nettie Mae to join her sister on the front porch. Hoping the kind obeyed, she ran into the smoky stable. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but getting out alive with Ammon was going to be more difficult.

  * * *

  Isaiah heard a fire alarm rise to an ear-piercing pitch. It was the one belonging to the Paradise Springs Volunteer Fire Department in the center of the village. He dropped his hammer and yanked off his leather apron. He banked the embers on the forge, then raced around the building between him and the parking lot. He didn’t slow until he reached the road.

  As he got there, the main fire engine zipped past, followed by trucks and cars driven by volunteer firefighters. A red pickup slowed long enough for him to hold out his hands to the three men in the back. Two plain and one Englischer, he saw as he swung up beside them. The truck took off after the fire engine before his feet touched the truck bed.

  Dropping beside the men amid the piles of gear labeled PSVFD, he asked, “Where’s the fire? Is it a building?”

  As one, they shrugged. The Englischer explained they’d been working nearby and reached the fire station in time to see the fire engine race out. They’d grabbed the rest of the turnout gear and jumped into the red pickup without asking questions.

  Awkwardly each man found gear and pulled it over his clothes. Isaiah didn’t bother with boots, because he wore protective ones in the blacksmith shop, but he helped others find ones that fit.

  A shrill screech came from behind the vehicle. A police car was catching up with them. Following it was an ambulance. His stomach clenched. His hopes that it was nothing but a grass fire were dashed. Was it a car accident?

  Please don’t let it be that, God. The twins were too fragile to deal with more funerals.

  He heard a curse and a prayer. He looked at the other men, not sure which had said which. Then he noticed where the truck was turning and looked along the familiar road to see a plume of smoke rising in malevolent blackness less than a half mile away.

  He started to stand to see better. He was grabbed and pulled down.

  “It’s the Beachys’!” someone shouted.

  He shook off the hands but didn’t stand. He couldn’t risk his life. Not when Clara and the twins could be in danger. Groaning, he hid his face in his hands.

  Don’t let me to be too late again! Let me be there in time this time!

  The prayer played over and over in his mind as he raised his head to see the fire engine race past the house. He sent up a quick prayer of thanksgiving. He saw motion on the front porch. One...two...three... Where was Ammon? And where was Clara?

  He knew the answer when he saw flames stretching out a stable window. Clara was wherever Ammon was. If the boy was in the stable, she’d be there, too.

  Help us, Lord! Don’t let me be too late. Not this time. Not for them.

  The pickup squealed to a halt, and Isaiah jumped out. He heard buggy wheels clattering behind him as help arrived from neighboring farms. Orders were being shouted in every direction as the firemen hooked a hose to the pumper and ran another line toward the pond beyond the big barn.

  Isaiah ran toward the stable. He heard shouts behind him, but he didn’t stop. If Clara and the boy were inside, they didn’t have time to wait for the firemen to finish getting their hoses ready. Suddenly the oft-heard jest that the Paradise Springs Volunteer Fire Department had never failed to save a foundation was no longer funny. Things could be replaced but not people.

  That was a lesson he’d learned over and over, and he didn’t want to be taught it again today.

  “Clara! Ammon!” he shouted as he pushed through the smoke trying to force him back.

  The flames roared like a tormented beast from the far end of the building. If a spark flew to the main barn, that could be destroyed, too. He hoped the cows had the sense to move away. The chickens would be hiding closer to the house.

  But Clara wouldn’t go to safety until the kinder did.

  He shouted their names to his right.

  No response.

  He drew in a deep breath to shout them again, then began coughing as the smoke choked him with its gray, cloudy fingers.

  A hand grasped his.

&nb
sp; Clara!

  He didn’t know if he said it aloud or not, but he pulled her toward him. His arm went around her slender waist. He could feel her straining to breathe.

  “Ammon?” he shouted over the ear-shattering crackle. This blistering beast was nothing like the fire he controlled on his forge.

  “Out.”

  “I didn’t see him.”

  “He’s out.”

  “Then let’s get out, too!”

  “Bella!” she choked, pulling away from him.

  Or at least he thought she said that. The swirling smoke swallowed her before she’d gone more than a couple of steps. He followed, glad he could turn away from the most vicious heat.

  He heard her horse before he could see Clara and Bella through the smoke. The horse was pushing against the stall, seeking any way out—though, he knew, if the door was open, Bella might not flee. Thick smoke mixed with fear scorched a horse’s brain, making it impossible for one to escape.

  Grabbing a smoking blanket off a stall door, he dunked it in the watering trough. He heaved it over Bella and grabbed her mane. She tried to pull away, but he shouted for her to come with him. Pulling her out, he looked for Clara.

  He couldn’t see. Anything. The smoke was growing blacker by the second, and his eyes burned as if twin pyres had been lit in them. He groped for the other stall. The crackling of the fire had become a roar that swallowed his shout.

  He bumped into something soft. Clara! Coughing and gagging, she leaned against the stall door.

  He seized Clara by the waist and tugged on Bella. Bending his head as if he strode through a storm wind, he gulped in the cooler air toward the floor while he rushed toward the door. He herded her before him. Bella followed, shying on every step.

  Overhead something creaked. Were the rafters failing? If the roof collapsed, they’d be crushed.

  Then fresh air filled his lungs. He started to cough, but kept moving forward. Water sprayed over them. It was aimed at the stable, but the mist was icy cold after the inferno inside. Shouts came from every direction, but he couldn’t sort them out. Bella pulled away and galloped around the house and out of sight.

  Small forms ran toward him and Clara, who leaned more heavily on him with each step. Arms reached out to catch the youngsters before they could get too close to the fire. He hurried Clara toward the twins.

  They threw their arms around him and Clara. As he released her to hug them, she collapsed to the ground and didn’t move. The twins shrieked in terror.

  He wanted to as well, fearing, once again, he’d been too late. He dropped to his knees beside her and moaned, “Don’t leave me, Clara. Lord, don’t take her, too. Please.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Isaiah watched the other firemen putting out the last of the hot spots around the stable as he paced between the house and the fire engine. The captain had refused to let him fight, telling him he was too emotionally involved. He’d proved it by rushing into the stable. That everyone, including Bella, had been saved was no justification for what he’d done. Isaiah knew the captain would have more to say once the cleanup was done, and he would accept whatever punishment the captain handed out. He’d let his fears overcome his training, and he could have endangered his fellow firefighters if they’d had to come to his rescue.

  The stable was a scorched skeleton of timbers. The building had been too involved by the time the firefighters arrived. However, other than smoke stains, the larger barn was undamaged and the animals, except a few chickens, were safe. The missing chickens would likely reappear when they were hungry.

  Isaiah had no idea how the fire started. He was careful. He didn’t leave a lamp in the stable, not wanting one of the horses to bump into it and tip it over. Maybe the kinder had seen something. He gave them a quick hug before Mamm appeared and took them into the house. At the same time, the EMTs had rushed Clara into the ambulance to work on her. They’d told him to wait outside, out of the way.

  Glancing at where the ambulance stood in the yard, he had to believe the fact it hadn’t rushed off to the hospital meant she was going to be okay. She had to be okay. He couldn’t bear the thought of another woman he loved dying.

  Ja, he loved her. With his defenses seared away, he couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. He loved Clara Ebersol. He loved her magnificent red hair and her snapping eyes that mirrored her emotions, whether she wished them to or not. He loved her sense of humor and her sense of duty with the kinder. He loved her faith that was as much a part of her as her scintillating smile. He loved her courage and her weaknesses, including the one she never spoke of: her fear she wasn’t gut enough to meet anyone’s standards, including her own.

  He loved her.

  And he wanted to tell her how wrong her fear was. She was the most wunderbaar woman he’d ever known.

  Isaiah paused in his pacing when Finn Markham approached him. The EMT was also a member of the Paradise Springs Volunteer Fire Department, and Isaiah had worked with him on several occasions. He’d never thought he’d need the tall Englischer in his official capacity.

  Finn clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Good news, Isaiah. Clara is breathing well on her own.”

  “Will she have to go to the hospital?”

  “Her blood oxygen levels are low, but that’s to be expected. We’ll check again in a half hour. If they’ve stabilized, she won’t have to go.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “I don’t think I could stop you.” Finn gave him a bolstering smile. “She’s been asking about you and the children. We’ve tried to reassure her that you’re all okay, but I don’t think she’ll believe that until she sees you with her own eyes.”

  “I’ll get the kinder.”

  Putting a hand on Isaiah’s arm, the EMT said, “It’d be better right now if it’s just you. She’s pretty weak. She breathed in a lot of smoke, and it’ll be a few days before she’s 100 percent again. The kids may get her too excited, and that’s going to have an impact on her oxygen levels.”

  “All right.” He took one step, then stopped. “Danki, Finn. I owe you a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

  “Have your mother make me one of her snitz pies, and we’ll call it even.”

  “If I know Mamm, she’ll make you a dozen.”

  Finn grinned. “And I’ll eat every bite.” To Isaiah’s back, he added, “Just don’t take Clara’s breath away with your manly charms.”

  Isaiah laughed as he hadn’t been sure he’d ever be able to again. But the sound was short-lived. His steps slowed as he approached the ambulance. How was he going to find the right words to apologize to Clara for letting her down? If he’d been at the farm, she wouldn’t have had to go into the stable to rescue the twins and the horse.

  Sending Finn pie was an easy way to repay his debt to his friend, but how was he going to repay his debt to Clara for failing her?

  * * *

  Clara’s heart danced in her aching chest when Isaiah heaved himself into the ambulance. The sight of his face, blackened by smoke, was the best medicine she could have. But raising her head was too much, and she began to cough.

  “Whoa there,” Jasmine, the other EMT, said as she put her fingers on Clara’s wrist to check her pulse. “Take it easy. I can tell he makes your heart go pitter-patter, but we want your heart rate slower, not faster.”

  Leaning her head back on the thin pillow on the gurney, Clara nodded.

  “If you promise to be good,” Jasmine continued, “I’ll give you time alone while I start filling out my report.”

  “I promise.” Isaiah’s hoarse voice didn’t sound like his own. “And I’ll make sure she’s gut, too.”

  “I’m sure you will.” The vehicle bounced when the EMT jumped out.

  When Isaiah sat on the low stool Jasmine had been using, Clara smiled pa
st the oxygen tubes connecting her nose and lungs to a nearby tank. He was careful not to jostle any of the IV tubes running into her left arm.

  Shock made her heart skip a beat when he grabbed her left hand. She fought not to cough so she could hear what he said.

  “I should have been here. I’m sorry.” He pressed his forehead to her hand. “I’m so, so sorry, Clara. Please forgive me.”

  Her other fingers rose to brush aside the hair that fell forward onto her skin. The clatter of the IV startled her, but she ignored it. “Forgive you for what?”

  “For not being here.”

  “But you were here. You saved Bella and me. We’re alive because of you.”

  “If I’d been here, you wouldn’t have had to go into the stable, and you wouldn’t be lying here with these machines hooked up to you.”

  “Do you think you could have kept me out when the twins were inside?” She raised a single eyebrow, though the slight motion sent a pain across her head.

  Her attempt at humor did not bring him a smile and fell flat because he was too caught up in his despair to hear what she said. Why? She was alive. The kinder were alive. The stable was gone, but not the other outbuildings or the house. Why was he insisting on punishing himself for what hadn’t happened instead of being grateful for what had?

  Then she realized what was in his head and his heart. Before she could halt herself from saying the words she didn’t want to believe were true, she asked, “You think if you’d been at your house that day Rose wouldn’t have died?”

  “Ja. No. I mean—” He clamped his lips closed, but the potent emotions in his eyes burned her almost as fiercely as the fire’s embers had.

  “Tell me what you mean.” Instinct warned her that he needed to keep talking until he broke open the half-healed scars within his heart and let out the pain infecting him.

  For a long moment, he said nothing. He shifted as if he planned to get up and leave. She feared he wanted to run away again from the grief and guilt he’d carried with him for too long.

  “I tried hard to keep her safe,” he whispered. “I never came into the house smelling of smoke from the forge.”