by A. J. Goode
“Owen is your son-in-law?”
“Yes. Oh, don’t look at me like that that! He’s a fine young man, and I believe he truly loves my Jennie. Its’ just that . . . well, my daughter takes after me. She thinks with her heart instead of her head.” The minister’s wife sighed. “Owen was heading south to Independence to join a wagon train to Oregon territory. He broke a wagon wheel and fell in love with Jennie while it was being repaired. Three days after they met, she begged for our blessing and left with him for Independence. “
Sophie dashed past them again, followed this time by two other boys on David’s heels. Mildred shook off her melancholy and pointed at them. “Those are Johanna VanDam’s boys,” she chuckled. “Joris is the tall one, and Gerrit is the little fellow. They go everywhere David goes, getting into all kinds of trouble. The three of them insist on setting up camp on Rich Anderson’s land, and Grace is forever stirring up trouble by demanding that their fathers pay for the privilege. And now, my dear, you are up-to-date on all of Serenity’s scandals.”
Caroline saw Grace Anderson glaring at her from several feet away. She shivered at the open dislike in the other woman’s gaze. “Mildred,” she said slowly, “I think I may have created an even bigger scandal by marrying Adam.”
“I believe you may be right!”
Caroline wished Mildred didn’t sound like she was enjoying it so much.
Chapter 11
On Monday, Caroline cut into the yellow calico to make one of her new dresses. She itched to work with the beautiful wool, but the weather remained uncomfortably hot and humid. It didn’t seem likely that she would be wearing wool any time soon.
“I didn’t expect Michigan to be so hot!” she exclaimed, pushing her damp hair away from her sweaty face. “Back home, it would be getting cool, at least at night.”
“Usually, it would be the same here,” Adam said. “This has been the hottest, driest summer I remember. Autumn looks to be just as bad. I think this may be the first time I’ve ever looked forward to winter.”
“Mr. Baxter says this whole town is going to burn down if we don’t get rain soon,” Sophie piped up.
“Will Baxter has a way of always seeing shadows ‘stead of sunshine.” Adam shook his head. “Gloomiest man I ever saw. But he may be right this time. The countryside is dry as tinder as far as the eye can see.”
Caroline went back to work on her new dress, taking time to explain the process to Emily. The girl proved to be an eager pupil, and Caroline showed her how to make a tiny doll-sized gown from the leftover bits of fabric. Both dresses took shape quickly as the days flew by. By the end of the week, Caroline had nearly finished her own, and Emily was placing the final stitches in the hem of her doll gown.
“I wish I wasn’t too old to play with dolls,” Emily said sadly on Saturday, holding up the little yellow garment.
“I think I’d still play with one if I had one,” Caroline told her. She dropped her sewing into her lap and gazed dreamily across the room. “I remember the china doll my parents gave to me when I was a little girl. I named her Elizabeth. I took her everywhere with me and changed her little dresses every day! My mother taught me how to sew by making dresses for her out of scraps, just like the one you’re making.”
“What ever happened to Elizabeth?” Emily wanted to know.
“I -- I’m not certain.” She bowed her head and busied herself with a row of neat little stitches. “When I went to live with my Uncle Roger, he took her away from me and said that I was too young to have something so valuable. He promised to put her away for safekeeping, but I always suspected that he sold her.”
“Your uncle sounds like a very bad man,” Sophie observed. Emily nodded in agreement.
He really is, Caroline agreed silently. An image of Big Tom popped into her mind, and she shook her head to chase away the thought. Aloud, she gently corrected the girls. “I was wrong to speak ill of my uncle. He was kind enough to take me in after my parents died. He and my cousin Stanley are the only family I have.”
“We’re your family now,” Sophie reminded her.
“And someday you can make little dresses for your babies instead of dolls,” Emily said. “I hope you and Uncle Adam have lots of babies! I love babies.”
Caroline felt her face grow warm. I’m afraid babies aren’t a part of our business arrangement, she almost said. For just a moment, she imagined what it would be like to be a mother to a round-cheeked little one with Adam’s blue eyes. A sharp aching sadness pierced her heart.
“I wonder what’s keeping you uncle,” she said, wishing to change the subject. “He’s usually home by now.”
She set aside her sewing and made her way to the door that was still standing open in hopes of catching a cool breeze. Vibrant shades of orange and red from the sunset glinted through the autumn leaves, forcing her to shield her eyes with one hand as she peered up and down the dirt road. There was no sign of him.
Sophie joined her in the doorway. After a moment, she pointed. “Is that smoke?”
Caroline squinted, her heart suddenly speeding up. It was indeed a cloud of thick black smoke rising above the trees in the distance to the north.
“Is it a forest fire?” Emily breathed.
“I -- I don’t know.” Something big was burning, she knew, and it was between them and Serenity. She heard Adam’s words in her mind: “The countryside is dry as tinder,” he’d said.
And he was riding home through all that tinder.
Suddenly, she snapped to attention. “Girls, get every pan, bucket, and bowl you can find, and meet me by the well. If it can hold water, bring it to me. Can you do that?”
Without waiting for an answer, she picked up her skirt and ran for the barn as fast as she could move. She flung open the doors, startling the animals, and ran about seizing as many buckets and pails as her arms could hold. Panting, she dragged her burden to the well and began filling them all with water. She worked until her shoulders burned and her back ached, but she didn’t stop until she and the twins had filled every possible container.
It was dark by the time they had finished, and still Adam had not returned. The smoke in the air thickened around them. Caroline began to pace uneasily.
“D’you think he’s all right?” Emily asked.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Caroline said. She tried to sound more confident than she felt. She peered into the darkness. Was that the sound of a horse moving through the trees in their direction?
She took a hesitant step forward, only to shrink back as a horse and rider burst from the woods.
“Uncle Adam!” the girls cried together.
Adam swung down from Max’s back and held up his hands to stop his nieces before they could hug him. “Stay back, girls, unless you want to be covered in soot,” he laughed.
Caroline’s knees went weak. “What happened?” she managed.
“Conway’s barn burned,” he said, the laughter disappearing from his voice. “We saw the smoke from the mill and VanDam shut us down early so we could help. We were able to save the house and stop the fire from spreading to the woods, but it was too late to save the barn.”
She thought of Nellie Conway, the petite woman she had met at church the previous week. “Was anyone hurt?” she asked.
Adam shook his head. “No, thank God. They were lucky. But if we don’t get some rain soon, this is going to keep happening, and it’s only a matter of time before someone gets hurt. Reverend Brown suggested that we ring the new schoolhouse bell as an alert for the next fire.” He looked around as though suddenly noticing the water they had gathered. “What a good idea!” he exclaimed. “But if there’s a fire when I’m not here, I don’t want any of you to try to fight it. As dry as everything is, the fire will move faster than any of you can put it out. If these woods catch fire around our house, I want you all to run for Saddle Lake and wade out as far as you can go until the fire burns out.”
“In our clothes?” Emily sounded scandalized.
&
nbsp; “In your clothes,” he confirmed. “Trust me, you won’t have time to take anything off. Say, is that the bathtub over there?”
Despite Caroline’s protests that the water was too cold for his bath, Adam insisted on washing off before entering the house. She hurried into the house to fetch clean clothes and soap for him, and he shooed all of them back inside so he could bathe right there by the well.
“I hope you saved me some supper,” he called after them. “I’m hungry enough to eat a bear!”
Chapter 12
Adam finished his impromptu bath in the icy water and dressed in fresh, clean clothes that Caroline had brought him. Hunger, exhaustion and fear battled within him, but he didn’t want to let his family see just how bad the situation really was. He vowed to be cheerful and in front of his little family so they wouldn’t pick up on his fear.
The truth of the matter was that they had been helpless to stop the fire at Conway’s barn. Only by the grace of God had they managed to keep it from spreading to the house or the woods.
He and the other men had hauled water and sand to battle the flames with no need to remind each other what would happen if the fire spread to the woods. With the gusting October winds and piles of dried debris, he doubted there would be any way of stopping a forest fire if one started. He imagined the flames devouring the distance between Conway’s and his own home in minutes.
Lord, please send rain soon, he prayed now, gathering up his dirty things and heading toward his house. He could hear the clatter of dishes from inside as he approached.
Caroline gave him an apologetic smile when he entered. “We never ate supper,” she told him. “We were so busy gathering water that we forgot to eat.”
“Well, that’s all right. Now I won’t have to eat alone.”
Supper was a mix-up of cold meat and cheese with some of Emily’s biscuits. Caroline set out a bowl of sliced apples and peaches from his own trees, and Adam said a quick blessing before they all hungrily attacked the food.
“Save room for pie,” Emily said, her mouth full.
“It’s apple,” Sophie said, smacking her lips. “Caroline, Em makes the best apple pie in all of Michigan.”
“Sophie, don’t boast.” Emily ducked her head modestly, but her cheeks flushed with pride.
“Wait’ll you taste Emily’s apple pie,” Adam told Caroline. “Last spring she made one that was so good, I laid awake half the night thinking about it. Finally, I couldn’t stand it, and I knew I was never going to sleep if I didn’t get another piece of that pie. I tiptoed right out here and cut a big, thick, sweet piece of it just for me.” He leaned forward and spoke in a low voice as though sharing some great secret.
“Then what happened?” Sophie wanted to know. She knew the answer already, but the girls always enjoyed his storytelling.
“Well, I didn’t want to wake you girls up, so I took it outside to eat on the porch. But we’ve got some powerful wind here in Michigan, and it came howling around the house so hard that it tried to steal the pie right off my fork! I started gobbling as fast as I could, and the wind kept blowing harder and harder until finally --Boom! The wind blew the roof right off the porch!”
“What did you do then?” Caroline gasped.
“What do you think I did? I hunkered down among the broken boards and finished my pie!” He grinned and winked at Caroline. “Now that’s what I call good pie.”
She couldn’t help herself; she laughed. “Did the wind really blow the roof off the porch?”
“Sure did. Wind around here starts on the other side of Lake Michigan and get stronger along the way. I’ve heard stories about the mountain that used to be right over there, just on the other side of town. One night, the wind blew so strong that it blew the whole mountain right over and made a valley!”
The girls were giggling now, too. “Uncle Adam, you know that’s not true,” Emily said. “Miss Brown said that’s just an old story. The wind isn’t really that strong.”
“She said that, did she? Well, what did she know?” Adam harrumphed and crossed his arms across his chest, but winked to let them know he wasn’t really offended. He pushed his empty plate away and patted his full stomach. “Did Miss Brown ever tell you the story of the Sleeping Bear?”
They shook their heads.
“A long time ago, in a place far, far north of here, there lived a mother bear and her two little cubs,” he began. “They lived in the great northern forest on the edge of the big lake --”
“Lake Michigan,” Sophie told Caroline in a loud stage whisper.
“Yes, Sophie, Lake Michigan,” Adam said, feigning annoyance. “Who’s telling this story anyway? One day, a terrible fire started in the forest. It grew and it grew until there was nowhere for the Mother Bear and her cubs to go except into the water. They jumped in and swam toward the opposite shore, all the way over in Michigan.”
A sudden gust of wind rustled through the branches outside, and they all jumped. Adam chuckled and resumed his story.
“Now, Lake Michigan is a very big lake, and it was a long swim for those bears, especially for the little ones. But they kept on swimming, even though they were tired. Finally, they got close enough to see land! Mother Bear called out to her cubs to tell them to keep swimming, but when she reached the shore and looked back for them, they were gone. They both drowned just a few miles from shore.
“Mother Bear never gave up on her cubs. She stayed there on the sand, watching for them and waiting until she couldn’t stay awake for one more minute. She fell asleep and while she slept, the Great Spirit took pity on her and covered her with sand to keep her warm. He raised her children from the bottom of the lake and turned them into islands where she can forever watch them while she sleeps on the shore.”
“Poor little bears,” Emily sighed.
“Is that a true story, Uncle Adam?” Sophie wanted to know.
“The Indians believe it is,” he said. “And I’ve seen the islands and the Sleeping Bear myself. Back before your father and I settled here in Serenity, we traveled up the coast and back again, and that’s when I first heard that story. There’s a big island and a little one, and a giant sandy mound that’s supposed to be where the Mother Bear sleeps forever under her warm blanket of sand.”
Caroline rose to clear the table. A subdued silence fell.
“Do you think our mama watches us from Heaven like the Mother Bear watched for her children?” Sophie asked after several minutes.
“I believe she does,” he said. Inwardly, he kicked himself for telling such a mournful story. “She really loved you girls. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“I miss her,” Emily whispered. “And I miss Pa, and I even miss Miss Thompson.”
Adam caught his breath and glanced at Caroline to see if she had heard. She continued working silently, but there was a stiffness to her posture that told him she had heard every word.
“I miss your pa, too,” he said, and quickly changed the subject. “Caroline, Emily told me you finished your dress. Will it be ready for you to wear to church tomorrow?”
“Only if I stop chattering and finish putting in the hem.” Caroline smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
Chapter 13
Sunday was cooler, with refreshing gusts of moist air that seemed eager to battle with the heat that had plagued them for so long. The lingering scent of smoke filled the air as Adam hitched Max and Mae to the wagon and helped Caroline climb up into the seat. He hoisted the girls into the back, admonishing Sophie to please behave like a lady at church today.
Caroline sniffed at the air as they started along their way. “Is that smoke still from the Conway’s barn?” she asked.
“Some of it. But there could be other fires. We’re practically living in a tinderbox right now.” The rode on in silence and he squirmed uncomfortably. It was obvious that he wanted to talk to her about something. Eventually, he cleared his throat and began. “I want to tell you about my brother.”
; “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“Yes, I do.” He looked over his shoulder to reassure himself that Sophie and Emily were deeply involved in their own conversation, and then spoke again in a low voice that the girls wouldn’t be able to hear over the rattling of the wagon. “Before I can tell you that, I need to tell you about . . . About Elise Thompson.”
Caroline flushed. Don’t tell me about another woman! she wanted to scream at him. I don’t want to hear how perfect she was or how much you loved her!
“Sam’s wife Rebecca was a lot like Grace Anderson. City girl, used to fancy clothes and nice things. She loved my brother, but this life was hard for her. After she had the twins, she got quieter and quieter and just seemed to sort of shrink, if you know what I mean. Sam got really worried about her. He started talking about packing up and moving back to the city for her. And then the Thompson family moved to Serenity.”
He got a faraway look in his eyes. “Elise was just about the prettiest, daintiest thing I’ve ever seen. Pretty red hair and great big eyes that looked like the lake on a stormy day.”
Pretty and dainty. Nothing like me, she thought, reminding herself that she had no right to feel jealous.
“I fell for her pretty hard,” Adam admitted. “She started spending time with Rebecca, and Rebecca seemed to perk right back up. They were almost like sisters, and I -- well, I found lots of reasons to spend time indoors when I should have been working. After a while, I figured we were in love, so I took it upon myself to pay a little visit to her pa.”
A red flush crept slowly up his neck. He guided the wagon around a burned-out spot in the road before continuing with his story. He’d gone to ask George Thompson for his daughter’s hand, he told her, and the man had laughed in his face. Elise had already agreed to marry someone else -- a wealthy banker from Chicago.
“I thought maybe her pa was forcing her to marry the other fellow, and really believed she loved me,” Adam said now. “I gathered up all my money and everything I could carry with me. I went to her window late at night and told her we were eloping. I begged her to run away with me. And she laughed too, Caroline. She laughed at me and said I was just something to keep her entertained in this ‘dirty little town’. She called me a fool, and she was right.”