The Fire (Northwest Passage Book 4)

by John A. Heldt

  Kevin laughed and shook his head but didn't say a word. He instead pulled a basket, a large blanket, and a rope from the near end of the canoe, tied the boat to a bush, and joined Roy on a grassy stretch about fifty feet from the water. Though the site wasn't the most picturesque on the river, it was scenic, quiet, and secluded – a perfect place for a picnic and thoughtful conversation.

  Sarah returned to Sadie.

  "He's still pretty pleased with himself about the other night."

  Sadie turned white.

  "What do you mean by 'the other night?'"

  "I mean the fight, of course," Sarah said. "Kevin was remorseful at first. He said that even men like Preston Pierce shouldn't be thrown through first-floor windows. In the past few days, though, he's modified his position."

  "How so?"

  "He now thinks they should be thrown through second-floor windows," Sarah said. She grinned. "I laughed when Kevin told me that, but I think he's right. Don't you?"

  Sadie nodded at Sarah and then smiled at no one in particular as she mentally revisited the second part of that eventful Friday evening. She knew she would never again see a birthday like her last, but she didn't care. She had the memory of a hundred and six kisses on a moonlit night and no one, but no one, could take that away.

  "Are you all right?" Sarah asked. "You seem kind of lost."

  "I'm all right. I was just daydreaming."

  Sarah smiled.

  "Was it a good dream?"

  Sadie reddened.

  "It was."

  "That's nice. I think dreams are important. We should often imagine wonderful things, even if they're not particularly realistic."

  Sarah swept an insect off her dress and repositioned herself on the narrow wooden seat. When she finished, she looked at Sadie with thoughtful eyes.

  "Roy seems like a fine man."

  "He is."

  Sarah tilted her head.

  "You say that like you don't mean it."

  "He's all right."

  "I don't understand. Is something wrong with him?"

  "No."

  Sadie looked at the man standing next to the man she loved and admitted that there really was nothing wrong with Roy Phillips. He was attentive and good-looking and had a sense of humor that had kept her in stitches since the third grade.

  "I see," Sarah said. "Does he not treat you well?"

  "He treats me very well. He's treated me like a queen since the church picnic. We've gone skating three times and out for ice cream twice."

  "Then what is it?"

  Sadie wanted to scream the answer from the hilltops, but she was afraid she would do little more than scare the forest creatures she loved and maybe start a deadly rockslide. She instead looked at Sarah sheepishly and then turned away.

  "It's nothing."

  Sarah studied Sadie's face for a moment.

  "It's Kevin, isn't it? I can see it," she said. "You like Roy, but Roy's not Kevin. That's what you're thinking."

  Sadie furrowed her brows.

  "How do you know what I'm thinking?"

  "I can read your eyes. That's how. You have honest eyes, Sadie. You have the most honest eyes I've ever seen."

  Sadie frowned as she considered the statement. She didn't like the idea that someone could read her like one of Marcus Duvalier's reference books, but she knew Sarah was right. She did have honest eyes. She couldn't hide her thoughts and feelings any better than she could hide a huckleberry pie from Andy O'Connell.

  "Does it bother you that I still think about him?" Sadie asked.

  "No. But it bothers me that he still thinks about you. I guess I'm a bit selfish. I want Kevin to think about me and only me, but I know that will probably never happen."

  "He thinks about me?"

  "He does," Sarah said. "At least he talks about you."

  "What does he say?"

  "He says you're kind, which you are, and smart, which you are. He doesn't say that you're beautiful, but then he doesn't have to. We all know that's true. I get envious at times."

  "I'm not half as smart or pretty as you," Sadie said. "You have no reason to be envious."

  Sarah smiled sadly and gazed at the still water, which formed a slightly rippled mirror in an inlet the size of a small city lot.

  "I am, though. I know for a fact that he cares for you deeply. He adores you."

  "Well, he loves you."

  Sarah beamed.

  "Then I guess we both have something to crow about!"

  Sadie laughed.

  "You're awful."

  "You're not the first person to say that," Sarah said.

  Sadie laughed again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring herself to dislike this woman. Sarah may have had the man she wanted, but she was thoughtful, funny, and more understanding than the nuns who ran Providence Hospital. No wonder Kevin had picked her.

  Sarah looked over her shoulder at the hunters and gatherers, who unfolded the red plaid blanket, shook it like a rug, and placed it on a spot next to a stretch of lupine. When she returned to Sadie, she leaned forward, put a hand on Sadie's wrist, and looked her in the eyes.

  "I don't know where Kevin and I are going. I really don't. Things are moving so fast that I've started to lose track of the days," Sarah said. "I just know that I don't want our common interest to come between us. I'd like to remain friends."

  "I'd like that too."

  Sadie sighed and smiled. She looked at the 22-year-old teacher from Indiana not like a rival for a young man's affection but rather like the older sister she'd never had.

  "It's settled then," Sarah said. "We're friends."

  "We are."

  The women shook hands.

  "I want you to know, though, that I don't plan to give up," Sadie said.

  Sarah chuckled.

  "I'd think less of you if you did."

  Each woman smiled, leaned forward, and gave her new and improved friend a hug.

  "Hey, what's going on over there?" Kevin asked from a distance.

  "It's none of your business," Sadie shouted.

  "We're talking about misbehaving men," Sarah said.

  Kevin walked toward the canoe.

  "Then maybe I should come over there and give you something to talk about."

  "Don't you dare," Sadie said, "or I'll hit you with this stick."

  "You wouldn't really hit him, would you?" Sarah asked.

  "I would," Sadie said as she broke into a grin. "And I'd enjoy every whack!"

  CHAPTER 59: KEVIN

  Monday, July 4, 1910

  Kevin had seen his share of classic cars in Fourth of July parades, but until July 4, 1910, he had never before seen classic cars that appeared fresh out of the showroom.

  Eight horseless carriages built in the first decade of the twentieth century rolled onto Sixth Street at half past ten to kick off Wallace, Idaho's celebration of America's 134th birthday. They included a Model T Ford, a Keystone Sixty-Six, a Reliable Dayton, and a Marmon Roadster, in addition to a Hudson Roadster, a Brush Runabout, a Midland Roadster, and a Klink Model 35. Bunting and flags adorned each car.

  "I'd like to get my hands on one of those," Andy said as he stood near Kevin, Sarah, Sadie, and Maude in a throng of cheering residents between Cedar and Bank.

  Kevin laughed. If his thrill-loving friend swooned over Model Ts and Klink 35s, he could only imagine what he'd do behind the wheel of a Lamborghini or even a '65 Mustang. He had a pretty good idea though. He'd wet his pants.

  "Maybe someday you will. You just need a better paying job," Kevin said. "Did you ever hear back from the publisher in Spokane?"

  "I did. He sent a telegram this morning. I have an interview next Monday."

  "Congratulations, Andy. I know that means a lot to you."

  "Thanks, Sarah, but I don't have the job yet. I know for a fact the paper is also looking at some crackerjack from Boise. That worries me a bit."

  "You'll do fine."

  "I agree. You're the hardest workin
g reporter in the Northwest," Sadie added.

  Andy laughed.

  "I ought to bring you two to the interview. I'd clinch the deal at the door."

  Kevin glanced at Maude and noted her much different reaction to Andy's news. She stood stoically at the end of the group and watched the parade with dispassionate eyes. He knew about the relationship she had developed with Andy and knew she'd be the least eager to see him go.

  Kevin then looked at Sadie and found her only slightly more animated. He had thought about her often since she had broken things off with Roy Phillips on Sunday. He had thought about her often since June 10. By giving in to her on her birthday, he had succeeded only in encouraging her. She had not moved on with her life. She had not given other men a serious look. She had instead clung to hopes of a future with Kevin that simply wasn't in the stars.

  The time traveler didn't need to look at Sarah to gauge her mood. He could tell by the way she held his hand that she was happy, content, and firmly on board the KJ Express. Whether she was ready to leap a century into the future in less than three weeks was another matter. He would not know the answer to that question until he actually asked it.

  Kevin knew he should have done more to prepare Sarah for the momentous decision. He knew that leaving her with the impression that he was planning to return to the high school in the fall was dishonest and possibly counterproductive. He had concluded, however, that the only way he could win her over was to strengthen their relationship as best he could in July and hope for the best. There was simply no good way of telling someone that the price of spending the rest of your life with the person you loved was to forever leave the people who had raised you.

  Kevin tightened his hold on Sarah's hand and mentally rejoined the festivities. Though he had seen more than twenty parades in his lifetime, he found this one particularly impressive. He loved watching the school band play "Yankee Doodle Dandy," men ride high-wheel bicycles, clowns push baby buggies, and white-gloved maidens in cars and carriages throw candy to children near the curbs. When he glanced at a small reviewing stand across the street, he half expected to see Norman Rockwell capturing the scene in real time.

  He also enjoyed watching a group of veterans move down the street. Some, like grand marshal George Marshall and his brother, rode on horses. Others marched in tight formations or casually walked along the edge of the procession and worked the crowd with handshakes, candy, and salutes. All wore uniforms they had first donned in places like Antietam, Gettysburg, and San Juan Hill, not Iraq, Afghanistan, and Vietnam.

  The politicians and merchants came next. The mayor and three city aldermen waved as they walked, while the operators of the brewery, three hotels, the iron works, and the power company waved as they rode in horse-drawn wagons. Kevin laughed as he saw banner after banner advertise products and services. Even in 1910, patriotism and business went hand in hand.

  He was particularly drawn to a wagon sponsored by the telephone company, which touted future service to Coeur d'Alene and Spokane. Though Wallace residents could and did call each other several times a day, they could not reach points beyond the Silver Valley. The publisher in Spokane had contacted Andy by telegram because he hadn't had a better option.

  Several school sports teams followed the merchants, including Shoshone County's baseball team, which played a doubleheader with Kellogg later that day, and the basketball squad from Burke. The short but spirited players threw balls back and forth as they walked down the street.

  Kevin then turned his attention to what he considered the parade's main attraction: ten students who marched behind the banner of the high school's science club. Josie White had founded the club the day Halley's comet went into hiding and had already presided over three meetings and two fundraisers, including a bake sale on the last day of school that had raised more than fifty dollars for future projects and a gift for the family of Josh Miller.

  "You should be so proud," Sarah whispered in his ear.

  "I am. Believe me, I am."

  It was the second time that day Kevin had seen some of his favorite students in action. Several had participated in a track meet earlier that morning at the city park. Josie had finished first in the girls' shoe race and the fifty-yard dash, while some of the boys had placed in the standing high jump, pole vault, and shot put. Fred Simpson and a friend from Mace took top honors in the three-legged race.

  Kevin put a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun as he directed his attention to the last student group: a debate team that had taken third at state. Sarah had recruited four of the five boys on the celebrated crew from her upper-level English class.

  "Now, it's your turn to bust your buttons," Kevin said. "You're as responsible for the success of those boys as anyone. Did Frank Merriman ever thank you for stocking his team?"

  "He gave me the flowers at the picnic."

  "You mean those weren't from me?"

  Sarah issued a wry smile.

  "Like you, Mr. Johnson, I have more than one admirer."

  Kevin laughed. He loved her playful side and was happy to see it again. He knew he might not see it as much in the coming days when their conversations turned to more serious matters.

  When the last of the students crossed Cedar Street and began to fade from view, Kevin turned to the end of the parade and an entry that many had waited for: the fire wagon. Six members of the Wallace Fire Department, fully uniformed, thrilled the crowd by ringing bells, blasting horns, and shooting water from hoses.

  Kevin saluted the firemen, including three he knew personally, as they rolled past his group. He knew that all were committed, well-trained professionals who could handle almost anything man and nature threw their way. But he also knew they would be no match for the problems to come. They were men, not gods, and it would take gods to stop the coming inferno.

  He turned to the southwest, from where the trouble would come, and gazed at the once lush, green mountains. In just a few weeks, the hills had begun to brown.

  Kevin drew a breath and smelled the smoke of a dozen fires. The problem was still small, or at least not large enough to trouble leaders, businessmen, and tourists, who flocked to the city by the hundreds to celebrate the holiday.

  That would change, however, and change soon. By the end of the week, the smoke would be thicker and the fires more numerous. By the end of July, they would be cause for concern. By the end of August, they would be the stuff of legend.

  CHAPTER 60: KEVIN

  Tuesday, July 12, 1910

  Kevin scanned the mugs in Maude's living room and shook his head. He couldn't believe the same news could produce three decidedly different reactions.

  Andy's face was easy to read. He wore the satisfied smile of a man who had just been given the biggest promotion of his life. He leaned back in an easy chair with a cigar in one hand and a telegram in another. The telegram, delivered at noon by a boy on a bike, had informed him that the city editor position in Spokane was his for the asking.

  Maude's face was also easy to read. She frowned and stared at the floor as she sat in a settee in another corner of the room. She was not at all happy that her friend, lover, and boarder was about to leave her for a bigger office and a larger paycheck in a city three hours away, but she understood that this was the nature of things. She had said as much at dinner.

  Kevin wasn't quite as sure what to make of Sadie's expressions, which ranged from smiles for Andy to frowns for Maude to pouts for Kevin. He knew she was fond of the man who had in a few months become her de facto big brother. He knew she would miss his sense of humor, his kindness, and his world-class appetite, but he also knew that she would want him to be happy.

  Kevin had mixed thoughts of his own. While he was sad for Maude, he was glad that his friend had found professional fulfillment and that he planned to leave the area at least four weeks ahead of the fire. He was troubled most by Sadie's reaction. What did the pouts signify?

  "I think I'll retire for the night," Maude said
as she got up from her seat.

  "Sleep tight," Sadie said.

  "Good night," the others added.

  Maude grabbed a glass of water from an end table, gazed at Andy for a few seconds, and left the room. A moment later, she shut the door to her first-floor bedroom.

  "I feel sorry for her," Sadie said.

  "She'll get over it," Andy said. "Did you think I was going to stay here forever?"

  Sadie shook her head.

  "I'll still come back to visit. You know I will. We'll still get together and have some good times. We'll just have to have those good times a little less frequently."

  Kevin watched Sadie as Andy spoke and noticed that she appeared to tune out the speaker. He could see from her reciprocal stare that she seemed less concerned with what the day's news meant for Sadie and Andy than with what it meant for Sadie and Kevin.

  "Well, I'm happy for you, buddy. I said so at dinner and I'll say it again. You deserve this. You've paid your dues. It's time to collect on all that hard work."

  "Thanks, Kevin. It means a lot to me to have your support."

  "When will you leave?" Sadie asked.

  "I start work in Spokane on July 25. When I leave for Spokane depends on you."

  Kevin sat up.

  "Me?" Sadie asked.

  "Yes, you," he said with a smile. "Let me explain. When I went to Washington, I did more than ask about a job for me. I asked about a job for you."

  "You did what?" Kevin asked.

  "I inquired about a job for Sadie. I think I found one too."

  "What kind of job?" Sadie asked.

  "It's a clerk position in the business office. The publisher wants someone who is good with numbers, someone he can hire immediately."

  "But I work for Maude."

  "Do you really want to cook and clean the rest of your life?"

  "No."

  "Then consider it."

  Sadie again glanced at Kevin, as if to ask, "What should I do?"

  Kevin decided that this was one decision Sadie would have to make on her own. Then he reevaluated the situation and changed his mind. He wanted her to move on with her life and to get out of harm's way. By encouraging her to seek the job, he could accomplish both goals.