This boardinghouse was a huge undertaking, and if her daughter didn’t do things right, she and the girls could end up in the street. Why, to Frances’s way of thinking, Katherine didn’t have nearly enough business to make expenses, much less earn the money to buy the necessities of life. Someone should set the girl straight and help her make wise decisions.
And she was just the person to make that happen.
Chapter Nine
Micah headed for the door that led down to the livery. “Did you make sure all the stall doors were locked?”
Zachary’s jaw tightened. “Yes, Pa. I wish you wouldn’t worry so much.”
Micah nodded. “Good enough. Head to bed then.” His son had worked hard lately, more than making up for the time he’d sneaked off with the Galloway girl. Of course, now that Micah had met Lucy at dinner three days ago, he could see why Zachary might be smitten with her.
Kind, quiet, and as pretty as her mother. He tucked the thought away. Emma had been the prettiest woman he’d ever known, and no one could take her place. Nor did he aim to go there.
He walked across the cramped sleeping loft to his bed, which was on the far end of the room, closest to the kitchen. The weather was beginning to warm, and the stillness of the air had kept him awake for several nights. Thankfully a wind had sprung up today, cooling the temperature in their upstairs quarters considerably. Maybe tonight he’d make up for the hours spent lying awake. He pushed his suspenders over his shoulders, then sat on his bed and tugged off his boots. Once undressed, he stretched out on the cool sheet.
Micah flopped over onto his side, relishing the feel of the bed. He was glad he’d asked Zachary to take care of things down below. Time to let the boy grow up and quit checking every move he made. Besides, sleep was dogging his trail, and he could barely keep his eyelids open.
Micah woke from a deep sleep, groping through leftover slivers of dreams he couldn’t quite grasp. Had Zachary called and woken him from slumber? He struggled upright and listened, but nothing stirred. Maybe the terrifying nature of the dream had awakened him.
He probed the recesses of his memory. Fire. He’d been caught in a raging fire and couldn’t find his son. Emma had appeared on the other side of the smoky veil begging him to hurry, pleading with him not to fail. But what had been burning? He shook his head, unable to grasp the fading image.
A drink of water would put him to rights, but he’d need to be quiet. No reason for both him and Zachary to be awake. He tiptoed across the room and into the adjoining living area. Something popped beneath his feet. He paused. There—the sound came again, louder this time. A horse in the livery kicking a stall? No, it didn’t have the right tone. It wasn’t a solid thump, but more of a crackle.
Suddenly the shrill scream of a horse rent the air. Racing to the door, Micah yanked it open. Smoke billowed in his face. Flames like those he’d seen in his nightmare licked at the wall near the foot of the stairway. For a second he stood frozen—had he fallen asleep on his bed and drifted back into the dark maze of his dream?
No. This was real. Too real.
“Zachary. Wake up. Hurry!” He sprinted across the room and shook his son’s shoulder. “The livery’s on fire, and we’ve got to get out.”
Zachary bolted upright, his hair sticking out in tufts on top of his head. “What did’ya say, Pa?” The words were mumbled, and he scrubbed at his eyes.
Micah heaved the boy to his feet and hauled him toward the stairway, grabbing both of their boots as he passed the chair at the foot of his bed. “Run. Go find help. The barn’s on fire.” He yanked on his pants under his nightshirt.
Zachary’s gaze widened. “Yes, sir. Aren’t you coming?”
“Yes. Now hurry. No time to waste. I’ll turn out the horses first.” He shoved Zachary toward the open door and tugged on his boots, then ran down the stairs behind his boy, watching him until he disappeared. Thank the good Lord the stairs ended a couple feet from the back entrance, and Zachary escaped without harm.
Micah swiftly surveyed the scene. The flames he’d spotted earlier licked at a side wall and smoldered in a pile of damp straw. More flames crept along the floor following a trail of straw. He ran forward and kicked dirt across the blazing stubble. Maybe he could get this under control without too much problem.
He grappled with two choices: take time to turn the horses out, or fight the fire and hope to win before it got a firm hold. The stomping and neighing from the nearby stalls made the decision. He sprang into action. A couple of the animals belonged to boarders, and he couldn’t chance their safety.
Running to the big front doors, he pushed them open, then jogged to the first stall. He swung it wide and stepped aside to avoid getting trampled by the frantic animal, but instead the gelding backed into the far corner, eyes wild and rolling.
“Come on, Roman. Out of there.” Micah twirled a rope he’d picked up, hoping to encourage the gelding to run out the doorway, but the big bay reared and struck out at him. “Easy, boy. Come on.” It took precious moments to edge around the horse and turn him toward the outside. Once the horse’s head was pointed the right direction, Micah slapped Roman on the rump, sending him racing.
He ran to the second stall, tossing a glance behind him as he moved. The flames that had been smoldering in the straw had ignited full force and now blazed against the interior wall. The fire had climbed to the top of the stacked bales of hay and straw and licked at the ceiling timbers that supported the second floor. If help didn’t come soon, Micah would lose everything he’d worked so hard for. How much time had passed since he’d sent Zachary on his way? Would he even know where to go in the dark, and would he be bold enough to pound on a stranger’s door? Please, God, don’t let him try to run clear across town to his friend Lucy’s house. It’s too far.
Another five minutes passed as he set the rest of the horses free. He flung his arm across his face, nearly retching from the thick smoke choking the air.
A shout sounded up the street, and footsteps thudded on the dirt outside the barn. “Jacobs, you in there?” Pastor Seth Russell stepped within the circle of light cast by the flames.
“Yeah. One more horse coming out. Stand clear.” Micah opened the last stall door and chased the sorrel mare out of the barn. “Where’s Zachary?”
“I sent him to ring the church bell.” Pastor Seth called over his shoulder to three shadowy figures emerging from the predawn gloom, “Hurry, men. There’s no time to lose. Get to the water trough.”
Micah could barely make out the faces of the sheriff, a storekeeper, and another man he didn’t recognize. He took a shallow breath and coughed. “You have buckets?”
Pastor Seth nodded. “Each of us brought one, and I sent someone after burlap bags, but I’m not sure how much good they’re going to do.”
Micah peered in the direction the pastor pointed. The flames cracked and danced as they raced across the tar-coated ceiling, gaining a deep hold. Embers drifted through the smoky air, igniting piles of straw and hay. Micah dashed forward, eluding the pastor’s extended arm. He had to save his tools. He couldn’t afford to completely start over.
“Jacobs, get out of there!” Seth’s words echoed in his ears, but Micah ignored the plea. Only a couple more feet to his workbench. He yanked open the cupboard and reached inside for the big wood box that housed the implements of his trade. Tucking it under his arm, he swiveled as the church bell began to toll. A loud cracking caught his attention, and he glanced up. Just then a blazing timber, bowed under the weight of the flaming ceiling, crashed toward him.
Katherine donned a shawl and turned toward her mother and children. “I don’t know why they’re ringing the bell, but I might be able to help. Mama, you’re sure you don’t mind staying with the girls?”
Frances straightened to her full five-foot-two height. “Why would I mind? They are my granddaughters, are they not? Now go.” She waved toward the door. “No sense standing here jawing about it.”
Lucy grabbed a coat
and jammed her hands into the sleeves. “I’m not staying here. I’m coming with you.”
Katherine peered at her older daughter. Lucy’s pale skin and wide eyes spoke volumes. “All right. But you’re to stick close beside me at all times, no matter what. Is that understood?”
Lucy nodded and raced for the entry. “Hurry, Ma. They never ring the bell at night unless something bad happens.”
Amanda tugged on the fringe of Katherine’s shawl. “Ma? Why can’t I come?”
Katherine bent over and whispered in her little girl’s ear. “You need to stay and keep Grandma company, honey. You don’t want her to be lonely, do you?”
Mandy’s mouth rounded. “Okay, Ma. I will.”
Katherine followed Lucy outside, trying to quell the nausea twisting her stomach. The bells had rung the day of the mining accident when Daniel died. Please, God, don’t let someone else’s husband be lost. As they picked their way carefully down the path to the road, gratitude for her mother’s presence swelled in her heart. Somehow Katherine believed she must be there for whatever was happening, and Katherine wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving Amanda home alone.
Lucy picked up the pace the minute they hit the road. “Can’t you walk any faster, Ma?” She lifted her chin and inhaled a deep breath. “I smell smoke.”
Katherine sniffed and caught the odor of burning wood drifting on the wind. She clutched her skirt, pulling it well above her ankles, and raced after Lucy. They ran along the back edge of town, the sky glowing a dull orange against the horizon. Men’s voices shouted above the din of the flames. They rounded the corner onto the far end of the main street. Lucy bolted forward, and Katherine grabbed her hand. “No. You’re not to go near that fire!”
“But, Ma! It’s Zachary’s pa’s barn, and they live upstairs.” Her voice rose to a wail, and she struggled to escape. “Please, let me go see if he’s all right!”
“Lucy.” Katherine pulled the girl toward her. “Stop. We’ll go together and see what we can discover, but you’ll not leave my side. Promise me.”
Lucy stifled a sob. “I promise. But hurry.”
Frances paced the floor of the sitting room and stared at the clock. How long would it be before word came from town? She’d already tucked Amanda into bed, read her a story, and given her a glass of warm milk to entice the child to sleep, and still no sign of Katherine or Lucy. The bell had stopped ringing some time ago.
The hands of the clock said only thirty minutes had passed since her daughter and granddaughter had left, but it seemed like hours. Maybe the timepiece had stopped working. She stepped closer and listened. Ticking. She sank into the comfort of a nearby chair, resting her head against the high wingback.
Katherine, Lucy, and Amanda were her entire world now. Nothing and no one else mattered. She’d had her differences with Katherine over the years, but she loved her girl with an unshakable passion.
If only she’d been able to accompany Katherine and Lucy to town … but she knew her duty as a grandmother. Surely, whatever the problem was, it wouldn’t reach its tentacles out and ensnare her two girls. She rubbed her hands against her forearms and shivered. First, her dear husband had died, then Katherine’s father, then wonderful Daniel, and most recently, her precious June. Please, God, let no one else in the family be lost this night.
She doubted her heart could withstand another such loss.
Chapter Ten
Micah groaned and tried to get up, but his right shoulder wouldn’t move. His thigh was bleeding, and something pinned his ankle. The end of the large rafter. It had fallen before he’d been able to leave and was resting across the lower part of his leg. His skin was on fire. He tried to push the rafter off his foot, but heat rose from the middle of the smoldering timber, which lay across his heavy leather work boots.
From the amount of pain, he guessed his leg could be broken and his shoulder badly bruised. And it looked like something sharp had raked his thigh. He placed his good arm across his mouth and attempted to breathe. At least the smoke wasn’t as dense so close to the ground.
“Jacobs. Micah Jacobs! Can you hear me?” Pastor Seth’s voice penetrated the smoke. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. But my shoulder hurts, and my leg is under a timber. It’s too hot to touch, and I can’t lift it. The rest of the ceiling doesn’t look good.”
“I’m coming in and bringing help.” The pastor and Jeffery Tucker, the boarder who lived at the Galloway house, emerged through the gloom, each carrying a bucket of water. They dumped it on the burning wood that pinned Micah’s ankle, sending trails of steam into the smoke-saturated air. Jeffery placed a shovel under the beam and hoisted it off to the side.
Seth leaned over, a damp cloth pressed against his mouth. “Let’s get you out of here before this ceiling comes down around our heads.” He beckoned to the man at his side. “Tucker, grab his other arm and help me hoist him up.”
Micah grunted his thanks and winced as the pastor drew him to his feet. “Tucker.” He emitted a long, wracking cough, his eyes streaming with tears. “Grab that box of tools?” He gestured at the box that had caused him to return. Even after hurting his leg, he had no intention of leaving it behind.
Tucker didn’t question but scooped up the wood container. “Pastor, need any help?”
“We’re good. Go.” Pastor Seth kept his arm across Micah’s back. “I hope that whatever is in there was worth risking your life for, man. Put this over your mouth.” He pushed the wet cloth into Micah’s hand. “Thank the good Lord you’re alive and not more seriously hurt.”
Micah stifled a harsh reply and did as he was told. If the Lord were truly good, He’d not have allowed his barn and home to burn. Now he had nothing. No wife, no job, and no home.
Katherine moved forward, still holding Lucy’s hand. “There. I see Leah. Let’s ask if she knows anything.” They moved away from the line of men that raced from the nearest watering trough to the livery with buckets. One man frantically pumped the water while others dipped their pails and dashed back to the burning building. It appeared to Katherine to be a lost cause. The roof was engulfed and starting to cave.
Leah turned as Katherine and Lucy paused beside her. She drew them both close. “It’s awful. Someone is still inside. I saw two men go back in.”
Katherine wrapped her arms around herself. Visions of Daniel’s body being carried from the mine overwhelmed her. Had Micah and Zachary perished in the living quarters upstairs, or had the townspeople spotted the fire in time for them to be saved? The memory returned of Micah smiling at her the day he’d driven his wagon past the boardinghouse. Sorrow tore at her heart. She’d entertained them in her home only three days ago, and now they might both be gone.
She brushed a tear from her cheek. “Do you know what happened?”
Leah shook her head. “Nobody does. Someone rang the bell, and everyone came running. When I got here, the fire had climbed the walls, and the men were dousing the closest buildings to keep it from spreading. There wasn’t much they could do to save the livery.”
“You live a half mile from town. How did you get here so quickly?”
Leah rolled her eyes in disgust. “Hunting for Pa again.”
A shout went up along the line, and three men rushed toward the gaping doors. A man ran out the door lugging a large wood box. Close behind, a smoke-blackened figure leaned heavily on another man as they emerged from the barn. Eager hands whisked them from danger, but not before Katherine caught a glimpse of Micah Jacobs. Where was his son?
Jeffery peered back at the crowd as he deposited the box of tools on the ground a dozen strides from the barn. Looked like the pastor could use a hand with Jacobs. He hustled to the injured man’s side and helped him hobble to a stump a good distance from the blaze.
Micah lowered himself with a grunt. “You got my tools?”
Jeffery nodded, irritated that the man cared so much for his tools and so little for his near brush with death. “Yes. The box is beside the wate
r trough. I’ll fetch it before I go.” He was more than ready to get back to his bed since the townspeople seemed to have things under control. When the bell had rung its warning toll, he’d raced from the boardinghouse where he’d been trying to work. Sleep had been elusive earlier in the evening, but now he was drained and ready to drop.
“Tucker?” A hand touched his sleeve.
“Yes?” Jeffery met Jacobs’s gaze. “You need something else?”
“No. But I didn’t have a chance to thank you properly for helping rescue me.” The man wiped a smoke-blackened hand across his face, leaving a dark streak on his cheek. “I’ve been so worried about my boy and my home that I forgot my manners. Forgive me.”
Shame over his earlier thoughts knifed across Jeffery’s conscience. “No need to thank me. You would have done the same.”
Micah gave a curt nod. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one who went into that fire. Thank you. Let me know if I can help you in any way.”
“Think nothing of it. I’ll go see if I can find your boy.” Jeffery stepped away and scanned the crowd. No sign of the young man who’d come to supper with Micah the other night. Hopefully, the boy escaped the building in time. Zachary’s death wasn’t something Jeffery would want to use in his work, even if the rest of this night might be good fodder. All tiredness dissipated as blood rushed through his body in eager anticipation. He hadn’t brought a tablet and pencil, but he’d not forget, even if he had to stay up half the night to write it all down. He mustered a smile. Nobody had been seriously hurt, and he was thankful for that, but there was nothing like a tragedy to get people talking.
Chapter Eleven
Pastor Seth shouted above the din. “Somebody bring water over here for Jacobs and rouse the doc if he’s not here already.”
Blowing on Dandelions: A Novel (Love Blossoms in Oregon Series) Page 6