The end of the day finally came. Eddie was grateful. His shoulder wasn’t cooperating. His stomach was ready for food…until he thought of potatoes. Maybe skipping tonight’s meal and eating a big breakfast in the morning would help with his disgust for the tuberous food. He’d get a break from eating them and be more ravenous in the morning. That might be exactly what he needed.
It was a hike to make it back to camp. They were set up near the northern river that fed Lake Pend Oreille. It was a giant lake and many of the closest towns flanked its shores. There was small comfort knowing the fire would have nowhere else to go after it destroyed the towns. Nothing could jump that lake, unless, of course, it turned and advanced to either side and then down.
One day at a time. That was all he could focus on right now. The absence of liquor prevented his head from thinking further into the future. Making his way into camp, he could smell the dreaded spuds. His stomach wanted to revolt. Most of the men were gathered close to the cook. Eddie wanted to know what had happened, so he ventured closer—even though the cooking smells grew stronger with each step.
The voices became more distinct as Eddie approached, and he knew they were talking about the earlier incident. He decided to hang back to get the news. He didn’t want to appear chummy with his coworkers. The loner status could save him from any trouble that might make its way through this group.
He didn’t find out much. The man had trouble breathing and collapsed. They took him back to camp and dunked him in water and that seemed to help. He’d rested after that. Eddie didn’t see the man around, but figured he was off sleeping somewhere nearby. That’s exactly what he intended to do.
As quickly as his tired feet would take him, he moved away from the group towards the area designated for sleeping. Sleep would most likely prove fitful yet again, but tossing and turning was much better than trying to choke down one more bland and mushy overcooked spud. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and he would work at forcing them down his throat then.
Tonight, he would work on trying to get some sleep—and not get robbed…or worse. A group of men without any lady friends could turn ugly faster than a camp cook could turn a whole camp against potatoes. With that revolting thought, he rolled over onto his back and attempted to turn off both his nose and his mind.
CHAPTER 37
Allie was settling into her new schedule at the paper. After only a couple of weeks, her savings were caught up to where they would have been if she hadn’t lost her job. Allie didn’t know how Frank was able to get her the wage meant for a man, but she was very thankful and wasn’t about to question it.
She was sitting in the church pew with many other women and a few men on a Saturday morning. She had signed up to help plan the festival when she wasn’t working. Now that she had her job back, her days were cramped, but since she’d already volunteered, it didn’t feel right to back out.
Allie hoped she’d be given a simple task. Maybe she could organize the baked goods. The older women loved to bake for the town. She would only need to coordinate with the bakers and make sure there weren’t too many of the same item. Most of those women were sitting here with her. If she was lucky, she could get most of the work done for that job today.
The men were sitting behind the women. They looked relaxed and talked to each other while waiting for the meeting to start. The women were divided into smaller groups. Each group was chatting about something different.
Allie just tried to focus. She was tired and loved that her life was busy again, but it didn’t allow much time to be alone with her thoughts. She ran through her mental list of what still needed to be finished today. Watering and more watering! It seemed like the only job she helped out with around the farm now that she was back at the paper.
When Allie did the watering, Ma was free to get other chores done. Days spent at the paper meant Ma was working overtime. The crops were failing, so since Drew had some free time, Pa gave him some of Allie’s chores. They were all working together.
Allie continued to give Pa a portion of her money each week. She couldn’t match what Pa would have earned with good crop weather, but it was something, and that was better than it would have been. She was starting to feel a little guilty about not giving them all her pay. They were working so hard this year—for so much less reward. They were in good company, though. The paper was reporting that folks throughout the West were suffering from the drought. Things needed to turn around soon, or it would be disastrous.
Mrs. Wimble took her place at the front of the church and Allie pushed those thoughts aside, so she could focus on this meeting. She needed to stay alert and grab a job that she could balance with her other obligations. If she didn’t pay attention, she could be left with one of the jobs no one wanted.
“Good afternoon!” Mrs. Wimble stood in front of the group to begin the meeting and all conversations ceased. “It seems this time of year has found us once again. I am happy to announce that I am your festival chair head this year.” Chair heads were appointed, and everyone took turns, but she clearly wanted to believe that this made her more important than anyone else. “I would like to start this meeting today by reminding you that our festival last year was bigger than ever. Some people from neighboring towns came to visit, and I would like to increase that number this year. We all know crops are failing. The festival can provide more booths this year. That will allow more families to sell their items and earn a little something to help get through this tough year. I would like to start the discussion with what worked last year…and what we want to continue. Then we’ll move to new ideas. And, finally, we will delegate committees to pull off this great event. So…to start us off…I want each committee head from last year to come forward and report on what went well and what didn’t. Mr. Wixel, would you please come up and give us a report on the barns?”
Mr. Wixel was a short, rotund man. He owned one of the establishments for men at the far side of town. He always ran the barns and headed the races. That put him in charge of all the betting. Allie didn’t know him very well, but her experiences in Idaho gave her some insight into Mr. Wixel’s character. Fortunately, Deer Lodge didn’t have too many of those people around. There were always a few that could be found in any town.
All the committee reports were given. Water was an issue that ran through them all, including Mrs. Wimble’s. She always had a magnificent rose garden that she was very particular with. She liked to choose the best roses in each color and display them every year. Those would need to be kept in water to stay fresh as long as possible. Conserving water, where possible, was a priority. A few questioned even holding the festival this year, given the water and time shortage of all involved. But, the majority agreed it was needed to keep up morale. A little fun goes a long way in hard times. It kept people pushing through. This year would have its challenges…some of which they hadn’t seen before, but they would all overcome them together.
The meeting was then open to new ideas. Allie didn’t have any to offer, but she was curious about what others might suggest. She had prioritized each committee by ease to plan and carry out. New ideas could add options she hadn’t considered.
The baking committee still seemed to be the front runner. Sewing wouldn’t be awful, either. Basically, anything that was mostly filled with items from the older female generation ran itself. They had been participating for years and had it down. Many had begun their sewing or planning right after last year.
Allie knew she didn’t want animals. They required care during the entire event—unlike the non-living items. Setting that up and monitoring it would require too much from her. She didn’t want any interaction with Mr. Wixel, and she definitely didn’t want anything to do with animals.
Various ideas were coming in: a fashion show, music highlighting other countries, a collection of automobiles and farm equipment. Nothing sounded right for her, but she kept listening and considering. Everyone agreed that a fashion show sounded lovely and the current store
owners would head that and use their inventory.
The music idea was interesting, but no one was aware of anyone local who had the skills and knowledge required to pull that off. They settled on the church choir taking part and gathering the small group of local musicians to perform at least once.
As for the machinery, Mr. Wixel said he could speak with some of his acquaintances from Missoula and Helena. He hoped they might be willing to help. Shipping them here would be a challenge they might not be able to overcome, but he could ask.
Mrs. Wimble took control of the meeting again. She announced that it was time to decide who would be running each committee.
“To start off the committee head appointments, I would like to nominate Allie and Frank to co-chair the children’s activities.”
Allie was stunned! Surely, I didn’t hear that right! Running the children’s activities would not work for her. That took too much time. Mrs. Wimble raised her hand and rose. Her mother stood and seconded. The rest of those gathered said, “Aye!” Allie was left standing with a dropped jaw.
“Yes? Allie? Do you have something to say?” Mrs. Wimble stood with a smug look on her face. Allie closed her mouth and quickly sat. What just happened?! “That’s settled! Let’s move on to the preserves. Do I have anyone who would like to volunteer themselves?” Mrs. Wimble scanned the room…and Allie sulked.
I could have done preserves! Why did I get put on kids? She sat there—not listening to the rest of the meeting for the conversation she was having in her head with herself.
Mrs. Wimble was so quick…too quick! And, my own mother! She stood up so fast, I didn’t realize what was happening. That was planned! There was no other possible way for that to have occurred without being planned. And, Frank! He sat quiet the whole time. Was he in on it, too? Well!
Before Allie knew it, the meeting was over. She didn’t know who had been assigned to the rest of the committees, but it really didn’t matter. She was working with Frank on the children’s activities. Allie stood to leave. Her eyes locked with Frank’s like a magnet to metal. She was trying to bore a hole into his brain. He was returning the same smug look she had seen on Mrs. Wimble.
It was planned by all three of them! Of all the nerve! I’m supposed to be letting God do His work on His time, but they can just do whatever they want whenever they like? She let out a huff and stomped out the room.
Frank refrained from chuckling out loud at Allie’s display as he followed her out.
“Allie! Wait up!” He had to pick up his pace to catch her. She was clearly angry and moving quickly. Allie didn’t stop when Frank called to her, forcing him to match her pace. “Allie, listen! I can see you’re upset.”
“UPSET! OH, why would I ever be upset, Frank?” She stopped abruptly, turned, and glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest.
Frank held his hands up in surrender. “I had nothing to do with that back there, really. Allie, you have to believe me. It was a shock to me, too. I happen to think it’s perfect, though,” he said, relaxing his stance.
Allie stared at him quietly for a moment. She was looking for the truth in his eyes. “I guess I have to believe you, but why would they do that? Well, my ma makes sense, but Mrs. Wimble? She’s been pushing Gladys on you. I don’t understand. That’s not why I’m upset, though. I don’t mind working with you. Actually, I’ll enjoy that. I was hoping to have an easier committee to head. With all my work at the paper and helping around the farm, I don’t have much time for anything else.”
“Maybe that’s why. They know I’m basically twiddling my thumbs right now. Sure, I help Doc out, but that’s when I want. I’m not scheduled there, and Ma and Pa don’t need much help. They just like my company.”
Allie pondered that. It could be true, however, she knew Mrs. Wimble, and everything that woman did had a reason. She loved to meddle. She was up to something, but what? She wasn’t going to share with Frank, yet. She would keep it in the back of her mind and try to sort it out as the festival drew closer. “All right! Since you have time, maybe you can be the committee head and I’ll just help.”
“Fair enough! That sounds like a good plan.” He turned and motioned for her to join him as he stepped away from the building. “I’ll work on some ideas over the next week and you do the same. Then on Sunday…week from tomorrow…after church…we can meet up and share our ideas. Sound okay?”
“That sounds great.”
Sundays were a day of rest, but she figured this wasn’t really work. A festival was fun. Sunday was the only day of the week she didn’t have some kind of chore besides what needed doing every day…like watering. Sunday was the best day.
“I’ll see you Sunday, then.” Allie didn’t wait for him to respond. She saw Ma coming and knew it was time to head home. There was so much to do and this meeting already had them behind schedule at home.
Allie would keep her suspicions about being paired together to herself. Ma wouldn’t admit to any of it anyway. She didn’t want to let Ma know what she was thinking. There’d be a better chance at figuring this all out if she kept quiet…for now. Once she had some concrete evidence, she’d decide what to do.
Her new plan was to keep her mind busy. She was doing what she was supposed to…waiting for Him…even if others weren’t. She fell into step with Ma and shouted out the last few goodbyes as they started the walk home.
CHAPTER 38
Eddie had been fighting fires for several weeks or maybe it was closer to a month. He couldn’t tell for sure. The days all blended together. Pay was inconsistent. That also contributed to losing track of time. He couldn’t rely on counting the weeks by payday anymore. They were all told accounts were being kept up and they would get their money.
Fires were popping up everywhere and travel wasn’t as safe. The out-of-reach places where the fighting men stayed made it even more challenging to get the money to them. He had to rely on trust from men he didn’t know.
Trust was not something that came to him easily. He learned at a young age that men, at least those closest to him, couldn’t be counted on. His pa did what he wanted with his ma for a while and eventually left. He hadn’t seen him since he was around five. For now, he didn’t have a choice. He needed that money, and, if he had it, he could probably leave. But, he didn’t have it…so he was stuck here lighting backfires.
In some ways, he was glad to be off the line. He was still breathing smoke like a chimney, but he didn’t have the dust to battle. The days were hot and the fires hotter. He was working closer to the fire now. He could feel heat like he’d never known. His body felt as though it would burst into flames for the sheer hell of it…much like the trees appeared to do.
The fire would be yards away and a tree would explode into flames as if it just gave up. It all needed rain, but the sky was raining embers. They could tell their distance from the main fire by the wind. The inferno created its own weather. The larger the blaze became, the windier it was and that allowed the fire to grow.
Fire consumed everything in its path. They were told they had the power to stop this. Eddie wasn’t so sure. The forest fire was a wild animal released from its cage. The destruction it left in its wake was a contrast to the confinement it had maintained the last several years.
The natives told stories of deliberately setting fires every year to control the burn. The big companies, railroads, logging, and miners, wouldn’t have that. They wanted everything to themselves. It was as if the land had had enough. It was shaking its raging fist back at the selfishness of the settlers.
Eddie wasn’t going to question it. He had a job to do and needed the money. Regardless of what happened with this fire, he would eventually be paid. He would be moving from this area anyway and wouldn’t need to worry about the politics here.
There would be politics to fight wherever he went. That was a given. But, for now, he could stay out of them and just do his job. He’d heard rumors that troops were starting to train. Eddie had never heard of the milit
ary fighting fires, but they did need bodies. That was certainly a way to bring more.
It was only rumors at this point, though. He hadn’t seen any new souls since the start. Something needed doing…whatever their plan. This was grueling work and men were starting to drop. Some were not cut out for this type of work. Eddie could keep going. Working was helping with his head at least. Lack of alcohol was always difficult for him, but this physically demanding and repetitive work helped. He took comfort in knowing what tomorrow would bring. There was no guessing involved in this work.
They were told that the fires were receding, but he couldn’t see it. He wasn’t sure if they were trying to boost morale or if it was honest information. For him, the fire stared him down every day. There were reports passed from fighter to fighter. There were thousands of small fires—three thousand was the number thrown out—and up to ninety large fires.
Eddie was fighting one of the large fires. Ten thousand men were fighting this one. Reports said some of the fires were controlled, but the fact that President Taft was calling in the army spoke volumes to him.
They could talk all they wanted and try to encourage him to keep going, but he wasn’t fooled. If the threat was dwindling, the number of men fighting would be shrinking—not growing. Another question he wouldn’t ask. There was no sense in it. If the men he was forced to work with thought they would lose their jobs soon, chaos might break out. He would keep his nose down and keep pushing forward towards the fire. The more he could burn up in its path, the less likely it would reach him.
Fighting fire with fire seemed an odd approach before he saw how it worked. He was starting the fires on the back side of the previously scalped earth. The fire would only have one way to advance—towards the existing fire, burning up all potential fuel. The large fire would need to look elsewhere for something to consume. This was big country and they had thousands fighting the fires. There just wasn’t enough man power to work all angles of each fire, but they had to protect the towns.
By His Hand Page 20