Book Read Free

Jody Hedlund

Page 30

by A Noble Groom

In a matter of seconds, Carl had lowered Gretchen into her arms. She situated the girl on her hip.

  Above, Carl held up the lantern. “I’m going back for Ward,” he called above Sophie’s crying, which echoed off the walls of their refuge.

  “Nein!” She shook her head. “There’s no time.”

  Ward didn’t deserve any of their kindness. And she certainly didn’t want Carl risking his life for the scoundrel.

  “I cannot leave him there,” Carl yelled.

  “Nein!”

  But he’d already moved away, taking the lantern and leaving her and the girls in complete darkness.

  The coolness of the water and the dampness of the fieldstones that lined the well soothed her hot skin. Still, anxiety left her breathless and shaking. “Carl!” she screamed. “Come back.”

  Sophie’s cries turned shrill, almost as if she sensed the panic burning through Annalisa.

  “Carl!” Annalisa craned her neck but couldn’t see anything, not even Gretchen’s face. Only the weight of her daughter and the warm breath against her cheek assured Annalisa that Gretchen was there.

  A flaming ember floated across the opening of the well, illuminating them for a brief instant before plunging them back into darkness. The fire was almost on top of them now.

  The hope that had ignited when Carl walked into the barn sputtered and fizzled into nothing.

  He was going to die.

  A cry rose to her tight throat. She wanted to scream just like Sophie.

  Gretchen’s cold, wet hand slid against Annalisa’s cheek. “Maybe we should pray, Mama.”

  Annalisa sucked in a breath, catching a waft of the smoke pressing down into the well. “Ja, liebchen. We must pray.”

  But any semblance of a prayer stuck in her throat.

  “Help Carl. Help Uncle Uri. Help Opa. Help Tante Eleanor . . .” Gretchen’s prayer was so simple, so trusting.

  Maybe she needed to learn to have Gretchen’s faith. After all, Gott had helped her in the barn when she’d prayed. Even though she’d had to sign the deed over to Ward, Gott had given her peace about doing so. Somehow she’d known He was there with her. That no matter what happened, she’d done the right thing.

  He’d be with her again, wouldn’t He?

  “Gott,” she whispered, pressing a kiss against Gretchen’s damp skin. “Won’t you be with us one more time?”

  “He’s already with us, Mama.”

  She hadn’t meant for Gretchen to hear her prayer.

  “He’s here right now.” The girl’s voice was so matter-of-fact, Annalisa knew she had to trust that once again Gott was with them, that He wasn’t too busy to help and comfort a poor widow and her children. That perhaps He never had been too busy. Perhaps Gott had been there all along, loving her, regardless of how good she was.

  Another burning ember flashed in the opening of the well, only this time it drifted down the passageway toward them.

  She splashed it with water and doused it.

  But as another fleck of burning wood rained down on them, Annalisa knew the fire was closing in. It was hungrily devouring everything in its path.

  All she could think was that Carl was out there, in the danger and flames.

  And she didn’t want him to die.

  Chapter

  21

  Carl tightened his arm around Ward’s waist. The man groaned, nearly dragging him down with his weight.

  “So you were the one who hit me.” Ward’s voice was slurred, the gash near his forehead oozing and raw. Bits of hay stuck to the blood that streaked his cheek and ear.

  Carl didn’t say anything. Even if he’d had the breath to answer, his silence was the better option. He wanted to avoid implicating Uri. Better for Ward to think it was him.

  “Don’t believe that I’ll let you get away with this.” With each step Ward’s breath was more labored.

  Carl had left the lantern in the barn. But above the woods beyond the cabin, the flames leapt into the sky and lit the darkness like a giant torch.

  The well loomed before them. Flying sparks had landed in the dry grass near the cabin, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the wind fanned them into flames as big and roaring as the ones headed their way.

  “The well?” Ward struggled to stop. “You can’t possibly expect me to take refuge in the well.”

  Carl strained to propel the man forward. “It’s all we have. Now go. Before we’re both roasted alive right here.”

  “I refuse to get in a well.” Ward straightened and jerked away from him with surprising strength. “I’ve heard stories about the fire of ’71. How families got in their wells and either suffocated or were boiled like chickens until their flesh fell off their bones.”

  Carl had already counted the dangers—the lack of oxygen, the possible carbon dioxide poisoning, the rise in temperature that could kill them. He’d gone over all the worst-case scenarios but had decided the well was still their best chance for survival.

  “We don’t have time to argue.” Carl reached for Ward’s arm. He’d drag the man there if he had to.

  Ward stumbled backward toward the barn. “I’m riding to town to the lake.”

  “You don’t have time.” Carl glanced at the oncoming fire, the columns of swirling black smoke giving testimony to its massive appetite. Ashes and sparks rained down on them, and a gust of wind breathed a blistering heat.

  But Ward had already spun around and was stumbling toward the barn. “My horse is fast and will be able to outrun the fire,” he shouted over his shoulder. “If not, I’ll bury myself in a field.”

  “You shouldn’t chance it. The fire’s too close.”

  Ward disappeared into the barn.

  Carl shook his head and then dashed the rest of the distance to the well. He couldn’t waste any more time. Annalisa and the girls would have a better chance of survival if he was there to help them. The truth was, Ward probably had as much chance of outriding the firestorm as they did hiding in the well.

  Sophie’s cries greeted him.

  Everything within him tightened with fear and a love so passionate he wanted to cry out with frustration. That was his family down there. And God help him, he had to save them.

  An explosion at the edge of the woods sent fireballs shooting through the air. The wind rushed at him, bringing with it a thick smoke that blinded him and left him choking.

  “I’m coming down,” he managed through fits of coughing.

  “Thank Gott.” Annalisa’s reply came on the edge of a sob.

  He hefted the planks they’d used to cover the well, to keep the sun and hot air from evaporating any more of their water. He spread the boards across its width and then slipped through the last narrow opening.

  With stinging eyes he paused for an instant to watch the roof of the cabin burst into flames. Then, holding on to the well’s rope with one hand, he slid the last board into place and prayed the covering would be enough to keep the worst of the destruction from reaching them.

  With several bounds against the stone wall he climbed down until he bumped into Annalisa. He lowered himself into the water next to her.

  “Take off your apron and Gretchen’s too.” He reached for the bucket and dipped it into the water. “Make sure they’re drenched and then drape them over your heads.”

  Through the darkness he couldn’t see them, but he could hear the splashes in her effort to get the aprons untied. He wanted to stop and help her, at least hold Gretchen. He had no doubt that Annalisa’s arms were getting tired.

  But first he had to saturate the boards across the opening as much as possible. Using the pail, he tossed water at the planks. Again and again until they were soaked. Carl could only pray that he’d gotten the boards sufficiently wet to prevent the fire from consuming them.

  Just moments later the flames flickered through the cracks of the covering, with an intense heat pressing down into the well.

  “The fire’s here.” Carl wrestled off his shirt and dipped it into t
he water. He draped the sopping shirt over Annalisa’s and Gretchen’s heads. “I’ll hold Gretchen. See if you can nurse Sophie. The less crying, the more oxygen we conserve.”

  He slipped his arms around Gretchen, and without a word she came to him, clutching him with her arms and legs. He stayed as close to Annalisa as possible to keep Gretchen under the wet tents their aprons and his shirt provided.

  Her little head rested against his undervest, and for the first time since he’d galloped at full speed out of Forestville, his heartbeat finally slowed to a steady rhythm. He lowered his head and, through the layers of wet garments, kissed Gretchen’s head.

  Finally Sophie’s cries came to a halt, replaced by her hungry gulps.

  Carl wished he could bend and press a kiss against the baby’s soft head too.

  He loved them. He loved them just as if they were his own flesh and blood. The revelation sent a swell of emotion through his chest so strong it threatened to engulf him.

  And he loved Annalisa.

  Desperately.

  He closed his eyes and nearly groaned with the knowledge of it.

  Why had it taken him so long to admit it? Why now, when death circled down into the well and threatened to choke them?

  In the darkness he reached for her. His fingers connected with her back. Through the wet fabric of her shirt, the heat of her skin grazed him.

  Oh, Lord, he prayed. I was running away again, wasn’t I?

  Had he been unwilling to acknowledge his love because he was afraid of marriage? Afraid of having a marriage like his parents’?

  But hadn’t he told Annalisa he wasn’t his father and wouldn’t make the same mistakes? That he’d make his own mistakes?

  He took a deep breath of the increasingly hot air. He wouldn’t be perfect. In fact, he’d already hurt Annalisa with his deception. But just because they would invariably hurt each other and have problems didn’t mean he had to run away from her.

  He let his fingers make a trail up her back and then down. She shivered but sidled closer to him and leaned her head against his shoulder.

  If they made it out of the well alive, he’d stay and fight for her no matter the cost. He wouldn’t run away again, not even if Peter put a gun to his head. He’d do whatever he had to in order to win her heart. He’d beg her to forgive him. And then he’d beg her to marry him.

  Overhead, the fire roared with fury. The boards over the well crackled. Sparks flittered down.

  If they survived . . .

  Chapter

  22

  Annalisa could hardly breathe. The air had grown so hot and stifling she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand. The water had lost its coolness, and her legs wobbled with the effort of holding up her numb body. Thankfully Sophie had nursed herself to a weary sleep.

  Carl had redipped the aprons and shirt numerous times, attempting to keep her and the girls from overheating and to protect them from the dangerous fumes.

  He’d tossed more pails of water at the opening of the well and had kept a vigilant guard for what seemed like hours, dousing the falling embers and sparks.

  “I think the worst has passed.” Carl’s voice was hoarse. “I’m going up.”

  “Nein, don’t go yet.” She tugged the wet garments off her head. “The fires will still be burning.”

  “We need more oxygen.”

  He didn’t give her the chance to argue with him. Instead he handed Gretchen back to her. The little girl could barely hold her head up.

  As much as Annalisa dreaded the thought of Carl heading out into the inferno, she had to agree. Gretchen needed clean air.

  Carl started to climb toward the blackened boards.

  Annalisa was surprised that she could see him, that the light slanting through the cracks in the opening was strong enough to illuminate the sweat-slickened muscles in his bare arms as he pulled himself hand over hand up the rope. His dark hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, and his lips were set in grim determination.

  “Cover yourself and the girls,” he said.

  Holding the children tightly, she used her body to protect them just as Carl swung his feet up and kicked one of the boards free. A crumbling piece fell inward.

  “Watch out!” he called.

  She drew back against the stone wall. The falling board glowed red and sizzled when it hit the water.

  Carl kicked the other boards and more pieces fell. Within seconds he’d cleared a large enough opening for the light and air to penetrate the well. In fact, through the haze of smoke she could see the light of day had returned.

  And she could almost believe their dark nightmare had passed.

  He managed to crawl out of the well and out of her line of sight.

  Ashes floated down the well, swirling in the smoky air. She gulped a deep breath into her burning lungs. Gretchen roused and drew in several quick breaths as well.

  Annalisa uttered another prayer for Carl’s safety and for the rest of her family. She could only pray that Uri had made it to the river and that Vater had found a way to keep the rest of them safe.

  She had no doubt that her entire farm had been completely destroyed by the ravaging flames. The thought of seeing the devastation made her nauseous—the months and years of hard work all gone in a matter of one afternoon.

  But at the same time a prayer of gratitude swelled in her chest. Carl had returned. He’d kept them safe. And so far they’d all lived through the horror. What more could she ask for?

  Besides, she’d already lost the farm to Ward. What did it matter if it all burned to the ground? She’d have to be out in two days anyway.

  “Mama . . .” Gretchen lifted her head weakly. Tears streaked her soot-blackened cheeks. “I didn’t want Snowdrop to die.”

  Annalisa stroked the girl’s matted hair. “Ach, liebchen.”

  “Do you think he went to heaven?” Gretchen’s lips trembled.

  Annalisa nodded. “Ja. And now he’ll keep Oma company. She’ll like having him there.”

  Gretchen wiped a hand across her eyes and smeared the soot even more.

  Over the past weeks, Annalisa had tried not to think of her mutter too much or she’d awaken the sadness and the disappointment that they hadn’t had more time together, that she hadn’t tried harder to bridge the gap between them.

  Annalisa couldn’t keep from thinking that if she’d made more of an effort, she could have had a closer relationship with her mutter, the kind she hoped to have with her daughters, something that moved beyond the parent-child relationship to a friendship.

  But even as the whispers of regret breathed through her, Annalisa let them pass. Her mutter had done the best she could to give her a better life. She’d left behind everything and had sacrificed to come to America—so that she could give her children more than she’d ever had.

  And now Annalisa was carrying on that same hope. The hope that she could now give her daughters a better life too.

  Carl’s face appeared over the edge of the well. “There are several small fires still burning, but I think it’s safe to come out now.”

  She pushed away from the wall, relief and gratitude giving her new strength.

  He lifted Gretchen out first.

  And then slowly he helped her up. His undervest was gray with grime and strained against his chest. “You won’t believe what survived the inferno.” His eyes sparked, and the weary lines in his face curved into a smile.

  “What?” Her hands were wrinkled and raw from being in the water for so long, and the rope burned into her flesh.

  “You’ll have to wait and see.” His grin teased her, just the way she adored.

  When she was within his reach, he grabbed her and hoisted her the rest of the way up and set her next to Gretchen on the scorched grass.

  Directly in front of her, the blackened forest was leveled to the ground with only charred trunks standing in a barren, smoking wasteland.

  At the sight of the devastation, a cry of despair caught in her thro
at and her knees sagged.

  Carl’s arm slid around her and prevented her from dropping to the smoldering earth.

  She leaned into him and peered at her fields. A few black cornstalks still stood, fluttering, the only remnants of the crop she’d hoped would pay off her loan. She pressed fingers to her mouth to keep from crying out.

  She’d known she would lose everything, but seeing the blackened land made it real.

  This was it.

  She’d fought as hard as she could. But she’d lost the battle against the elements and against Ward.

  She then looked toward the cabin and her vegetable garden. There was nothing left but a pile of smoking ashes and the few stones from the hearth. A soft cry slipped from her lips.

  “I know it’s discouraging,” Carl said. “But look.” He slowly pivoted her.

  “How?” Disbelief thickened her tongue so that all she could do was stare.

  There stood the new barn, virtually untouched. Several patches of the roof had been ripped off, but otherwise it was almost as if the fire had hopped right over it.

  The black billowing clouds had moved to the east, likely taking the raging inferno to Forestville, where hopefully it would meet its death at the edge of Lake Huron. But even though the darkness had passed, the air was still thick with smoke.

  “I can’t make sense of it,” Carl said, “except to hypothesize that since the boards were new and somewhat green, that the fire was moving too quickly for the wood to combust the same way the dry wood did.”

  She didn’t understand Carl’s explanation. And suddenly it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they had survived, that they were together. She’d lose the barn by the end of the week anyway.

  As long as she didn’t lose Carl again.

  “Carl . . .” she said, turning to him.

  He lifted a finger to her lips to silence her. His rich brown eyes were full of all the questions that remained unanswered between them. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness for lying to you. I was a fool to deceive you. And I regret that I wasn’t honest with you from the start, no matter the consequences.”

 

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