Renewing Hope (In Your World #2)

by Jennyfer Browne

  "The wall, Kate!" Nathan choked out, coughing in the smoke as it engulfed us. "The wall I repaired! There are many boards still weak! Grab the ax!"

  I coughed and looked around in the haze, fumbling in desperation to find the ax.

  "I can't find it! Nathan!" I wailed, searching as my eyes watering from the smoke making it hard to see.

  "Please, get out of here, Kate!"

  My hands found a handle and pulling it off the wall revealed an ax. I turned to find Magnus pawing at the floor beside me. His head batted against me and he let out an angry whinny, trying to edge me toward the locked door.

  "The wall!" I cried out, rushing for the gap in the wall that Nathan had left unfinished. The hole was too small of anyone to get through.

  I swung and felt the jarring force of the steel hit the wood, making my teeth chatter in my mouth.

  "Further to your right!" Nathan cried out, coughing uncontrollably through his words.

  "Nathan!"

  I looked behind me and saw him sagging in his restraints. I wheeled around and swung again, to the right. The ax cut through the rotted wood enough that I stumbled when the blade went through. I tugged it free and swung again, making a hole. Again I swung, and again, the hole growing wider. I could hear voices outside.

  "Nathan! Just hang on! I'll get you out!" I yelled as I swung, until Magnus’ flank shoved me aside and he reared at the wall.

  Magnus' bloody hooves came down on the wall, sending splinters of rotted wood flying. He shrieked and hit it again, the hole big enough for me to get Nathan through. I rushed back to him, his breath ragged as he coughed and sagged against his restraints. I felt around on his workbench behind him, finding a blade amongst the old nails and planks.

  Voices called for us at the hole, mingled with Magnus' screams and the cracking of the wood and roar of the fire surrounding us. All I could think about was getting Nathan and Benjamin out of harm’s way. Flames had engulfed the hayloft above us; I could feel hot ashes burning at my skin as flaming straw landed on me. Nathan's bonds were taut as he bowed forward, unable to hold himself up any longer. When they broke free, he tumbled to the ground, coughing and wheezing.

  "We have to get out of here!" I yelled over the noise.

  Any second the hayloft would collapse and topple down onto us.

  I pulled at both Nathan and Benjamin, my bare feet slipping in the dust and straw. They were too heavy for me. Nathan struggled to crawl beside me, trying hard to move while he coughed. Magnus gave one more burst of his hooves, opening the hole enough that he barreled through, crying out and disappearing into the night. I dragged Nathan to the gaping hole, just as hands grabbed at me.

  I turned and could make out Bishop Yoder and another man reaching for us. I shoved Nathan at them, working myself free of the Bishop’s grasp.

  "Katherine! The barn is coming down! You must come!" he yelled.

  I pushed Nathan through, and tumbled back in to the barn.

  "Benjamin!" I cried out. "He is here! I need to get him!"

  "Katherine! It is too late!"

  I turned back into the flames, the heat unbearable as I fell over Benjamin, unconscious on the floor. I shook him, trying to jog him conscious, but he was out cold. Grabbing at his arms I tried to drag him toward the wall, his weight too heavy for me to do much good. I heaved away from him again, moving him perhaps a foot.

  The fire had taken over the worktable near us, the heat of it forcing my eyes closed.

  I wouldn't be able to stay much longer.

  "Please, please help me," I whispered, praying to be heard.

  I pulled again, letting out a strangled cry that burned my throat when I inhaled.

  I was going to die in here.

  I pulled again, gaining another few inches. The sound of the fire drowned out the yelling, and the smoke obscured the hole in the wall as I struggled with Benjamin's limp body, hoping I was going in the right direction.

  "Please. Help me," I croaked, yanking with all my weight to get Benjamin to move.

  I felt hands behind me, an arm reaching around me to grasp at Benjamin. Turning my head, I could make out the Bishop beside me in the smoke. He had the weight to help tug Benjamin toward the hole, one hand on me to drag me as well. When we reached the hole, hands reached for us, hauling me out into the night, followed by the Yoders. I coughed and wiped at my eyes, the smoke and debris blinding me.

  I shivered and gave into the hands as they carried us further from the fire, my strength evaporated as soon as the cold air seeped into my heated skin. I couldn't stop coughing long enough to call out to Nathan. The hands carrying me seemed to know where to take me, though.

  "Kate!"

  I turned to the hoarse voice, finding a shadowy figure seated in the grass away from the house and the blazing barn. I worked my way free of whoever was carrying me and rushed to Nathan, his body collapsing when I fell into him. His arms wrapped around me, uncaring how it might appear amongst the people around us.

  "Nathan," I wheezed, refusing to let him go.

  "I am all right, Kate," he groaned, his hand moving over my arms and back to survey my injuries. "Why did you go back in? You could have died!"

  "Benjamin," I croaked.

  "Is he?" he stammered, pulling away to look around. He let out a strangled whimper when he looked behind me.

  I turned to see Bishop Yoder and Jonah lay Benjamin down with care beside us. We let out a sigh of relief when we saw he was still breathing. Women rushed around us with purpose, bringing water and blankets while the men wet down the house and trees beside the house. The barn was a lost cause. Where they had pulled us out was well under fire now, the last quarter of the barn catching as I watched. I saw headlights coming down the driveway, wondering how the fire department had been called.

  As they drew close, rushing out to haul hoses that hooked up to their tank truck, their purpose now was clear. Save the house. The water shot out of the hoses immediately, helping the Amish men considerably.

  A blanket was wrapped around me, and I opened it up to wrap Nathan with it as we listened to Jonah giving orders to those around us.

  "I need more water, and we need my bag from the house. Go!" Jonah called, the voice of authority.

  "Is he okay?" I whispered, my voice raspy from the smoke. I coughed hard from breathing and took a drink of water, wincing at the burn as I swallowed and coughed. The water tasted like smoke.

  "I believe he has a concussion. It appears nothing is broken," Jonah replied, going over Benjamin's head and body one more time before taking the water a young girl brought. We watched Jonah while he worked, having never had the chance to really see him at his job as a healer.

  I held Nathan close to me and felt the tears slide down my face as the Fisher barn flared for a moment before it toppled in on itself. The brightness of the fire hurt my sensitive eyes, but the destruction of it was difficult to turn from.

  And with its fiery destruction, so was the end of my past- a grisly funeral pyre for Sean Miller.

  Another minute in there and we would have perished as well.

  Jonah turned to us, checking us over quickly. He pursed his lips when he noticed my bare feet, and the burn marks that had worked their way through my bone-dry shift.

  "You burned your feet, Katherine. We will need to clean and wrap them," he said, looking up at me with pained eyes.

  "I'll be fine. Is Nathan okay?"

  He looked Nathan over, rinsing off his wrist wounds, and nodding.

  "You will be tender, Nathan, but I believe you are well. You are both in shock. We will need to get you inside where it is warm. I will put some ointment on your wounds to ease the pain," Jonah replied and stood to wait for his bag. He stepped back over to Benjamin, checking his breathing and leaving us alone in our thoughts for a few moments.

  "I couldn't stop it."

  Nathan's soft whisper pulled my eyes down to his bowed head.

  "It's all right, Nathan," I soothed, brushing away the damp
tendrils that lay haphazardly across his sooty forehead. He shook his head and closed his eyes.

  "I should have known. It came so fast. So fast," he murmured.

  "I know. It's okay. It wasn't your fault, Nathan," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him when he started to shake.

  "I should have been able to do more. And you are hurt," he groaned and shut his eyes again.

  I held him closer to me, my mouth against his ear.

  "Listen to me right now, Nathan Fisher. I am all right. You are here in my arms and we are together. We will be fine. We are alive," I whispered, feeling his body slowly relax against me.

  "I'm so tired," he mumbled.

  "A lot happened, Nathan. Just relax," I whispered, cradling him in my arms.

  "I am sorry, Kate. My father’s barn. What will we do now?" he asked, his voice a little garbled.

  "Shhh. We’re safe. Barns can be rebuilt," I murmured and held him a little closer.

  He shifted against me, his hand slipping out of mine.

  He mumbled something else, but it was lost against my shoulder, his head growing heavy on me. I brushed the hair from his forehead again, looking into the darkness beyond. I swallowed down the pain I felt and took in the damage around us, letting out a long breath. Clean up would be exhausting, and we wouldn't know just how bad it was until daylight. I closed my eyes to it all and hugged him a little tighter.

  Somehow, tomorrow, I would need to assure him that we would be fine.

  Regardless of what we found at daybreak.

  We'd be all right.

  Sean was out of my life forever now.

  I opened my eyes at the sound of someone approaching. Bishop Yoder knelt down and pulled a bucket close to us, wringing out a rag in his hands. He glanced up at me and then off to his son, who was being carried to the house by four men.

  "You saved his life, when your Nathan was safe," he said, his tone measured.

  I swallowed and held Nathan a little closer to me.

  "I couldn't let Benjamin die."

  He dipped the cloth back in the water, pausing to wring it out again. His brow was furrowed, as if troubled by his thoughts.

  "You would risk your life, when your love was safe from harm? For my son?" he asked, looking up at me with large dark eyes.

  There was so much pain in his eyes.

  Conflict. Turmoil.

  And anger?

  "He is family, Bishop Yoder," I answered softly.

  "Benjamin is family to you," he stated, not asking.

  I nodded.

  "He is like a brother to Nathan. And he has been kind to me. He is family," I replied.

  He was quiet for a long moment, wringing the cloth in his hands once more.

  "Your feet need to be cleaned," he whispered, looking up again, askance. "May I?"

  I blinked and nodded, hesitantly, caught off guard by his soft voice.

  He bent over and pulled back the blanket, exposing my feet. In the dark they looked dirtied from the mud. I was afraid what they would look like when I saw them in the light. They didn't hurt yet. I had no idea how badly I had burned them. The water was cold when it touched my skin, causing me to shiver. He looked up, feeling me shudder.

  "It's okay. Just cold," I mumbled, uncomfortable sitting there in the dark with the man who had caused me so much turmoil.

  He worked slowly, rinsing and wiping away the dirt with great care. My eyes never left his face, concentrating on his task with solemn duty. He finished one foot, gently laying it down and covering it before moving to the other. He spoke as he worked on the second foot.

  "It was considered a great honor to wash the feet of esteemed people. Jesus wiped away the sins of a beggar woman who anointed his feet with her tears," he said, never looking up.

  I knew the story. I had recited it to Ezekiel, citing my place in the world.

  But I had been the one unworthy, wishing to be accepted.

  This wasn't how Bishop Yoder saw it.

  "I am not esteemed, Bishop Yoder," I murmured.

  "You are more esteemed than I," he whispered. "You would sacrifice yourself for another. You see what is right while I have been blinded by my prejudice. I am but a beggar wiping the dirt from one who has the power to forgive me of my most abominable sins.”

  He rinsed out the dirtied cloth and let out a soft breath when he resumed his task.

  “Did you know that we wash the feet of our fellowship every year? To ask forgiveness of any sin we may have done?" he asked.

  I shook my head when he glanced up for my answer.

  "Well, it should have been covered in your baptismal classes. I suppose we missed some things, given your circumstances," he said quietly.

  He wrung out the cloth and placed it on my foot, looking up at me, the anger gone.

  "I can only pray for God to forgive me, as I hope you will do one day. I have acted out of fear and pride. I doubted you. It is clear to me tonight that you are what Nathan believes you to be. I beg your forgiveness, child, so that I might find a path back as you have done for my son,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

  He looked away when he saw my uncomfortable frown, wringing out the cloth one last time before standing with the bucket. I cleared my throat and tried to speak what was on my mind, but my head hurt from the smoke and the adrenaline.

  "Perhaps you and I both have forgiveness in our hearts tonight? You saved your son tonight, which shows me that you do care for him. That you and he can make amends. Family is important, and Benjamin needs his family. Whatever pain made you lash out at me, I hope it has passed," I whispered.

  He nodded and his voice was softer when he spoke again.

  "You are more than I thought you to be, and for that I am sorry to have judged you," he said.

  "I forgive you, Bishop Yoder."

  He let out a long breath and glanced back at me, the raging emotions diminished in his glassy eyes. He watched me for a long moment before nodding toward the house.

  "We should get you inside. Nathan needs his rest, as do you. You have a choice to make before the Baptism," he said, and waved over a few men.

  I couldn’t open up my mouth for the surprise of his words. Before I could take a breath and clear my throat to thank the Bishop, he was walking away to follow after his son. My heart was much lighter, despite the pain of the last hour or so. The Bishop’s words, instead of instilling fear of rejection, offered me the hope that Nathan had held onto for so long.

  Now it was simply a matter of recuperating enough to make it to Sermon.

  I nudged Nathan gently, rousing him from his sleep. The men helped us up; once standing I could feel the tenderness on the soles of my feet. I limped toward the house, hearing the firemen discussing the clean up.

  "You’re sure no one was left in there?" one was asking Jonah.

  I slowed and turned to them.

  "There was one person in there," I said, feeling Fannie slip beside me, holding me up.

  "One more?" Jonah asked, his eyes wide.

  I nodded, looking off at the smoldering pile before us.

  "He was already dead," I replied evenly, my mind numbing the reality of the memory. "Trampled."

  "Trampled?" the fireman asked.

  I watched Jonah's face as I explained what happened. It was important that they knew. We needed to move on.

  Sean was gone.

  Jeff had escaped.

  But we were alive.

  "I’ll let the sheriff know about this Jeff Biggins. We’ll have to send word to him about the body as well," the fireman replied and walked away to his crew.

  I nodded and slumped into Fannie’s shoulder, exhausted suddenly.

  "Come, Katherine," Fannie whispered, pulling me toward the house. "You need to rest."

  "I want to make sure Nathan is all right," I said as we made our way up the stairs.

  She nodded and pulled a chair close to Nathan's bed, remaining with me while Jonah saw to Nathan's cuts and my burns. Nathan fell asleep a
lmost immediately, his hand in mine while I watched him in his small bed.

  "I will see to Benjamin. You need your sleep, Katherine," Jonah said.

  "In a bit.”

  They left me there, understanding my need to simply sit beside Nathan in the quiet. Outside I could still hear the firemen as they threw water on the barn, and downstairs I could hear women in the kitchen. I could only assume they were trying to figure out a meal as the morning drew close.

  I dozed for a time in the chair, but at first light, I slipped from Nathan's room and made my way back downstairs, a blanket wrapped around me to ward off the cold. My feet were sore but I ignored the pain as I made my way out into the early morning, over the scorched grass until I stood near the ruined barn, a few tendrils of smoke still filtering up from the depths of blackened wood. The horizon looked strange without the barn there; I could see into the field that had been trampled and flooded in the night. I turned my attention to the charred structure once more, my thoughts on only one thing.

  Sean lay there somewhere, deep in the debris. Hugging myself from the chill, I let out a long breath, feeling a sense of finality in his passing now that the daylight could confirm the events of the night. My past had taken care of itself, in the most horrible of ways.

  “Goodbye, Sean,” I whispered in the breeze and clutched at the blanket a little more tightly.

  I stood there for some time, watching as men in uniform sifted through the rubble, putting small items into bags and sending it off to a police van nearby. A familiar nicker behind me drew my attention from the devastation, and up into wide black eyes. Magnus limped toward me, his head low. He was caked in ash and dirt, the dried blood around his hooves almost disappearing in his black coat.

  "Come, Magnus," I whispered and held my hand out to him.

  He stepped up to me, his head nuzzled into my stomach as I stroked his neck carefully. Along his neck and shoulders, fresh cuts from forcing himself through the wall had barely scabbed over in the dirt and grime.

  "You have earned yourself all the oats I can sneak you, sweet boy," I whispered and stroked him a little harder, my tears falling over his forelock as he nickered against me.

  Jonah stepped out onto the porch, watching me as I held the big black horse against me. He wandered over when I waved him to me. Jonah was silent as he looked over the horse's wounds, specifically the blood along his hooves.