by Nancy Mehl
Eric’s expression testified to the fact that Gabe’s words brought no reassurance.
Gabe and I kept our eyes on Eric as he carefully approached the next barrel. He gingerly peeked over the edge before attempting to clean it out. Gabe grinned at me, but neither one of us said anything. I appreciated Eric’s willingness to help out and had no desire to ridicule him—even though it was pretty funny.
The five of us worked for several hours. Sam and John pushed the snow out of the orchards the best they could so the barrels and pots could warm the ground as much as possible. Sam drove his tractor with the plow on the front while John shoveled snow by hand and dumped it in piles outside the tree line. Finally they began bringing out bunches of kindling wood, which we placed inside the large metal containers. As the weather forecasters had predicted, the temperature continued to plummet. My hands and feet were almost numb, but I didn’t complain. None of the men mentioned the cold, so I didn’t either. A couple of times I came close, but I felt protective of Sam’s trees and determined to save them. After the barrels were ready, the men began dragging the smudge pots out of the barn. Black metal, with a long pipe that stuck out of the top, they were positioned in various spots around the orchard. Then the men put logs soaked in oil in the bottoms of the pots, added more fuel, and lit them. The flame shot out of the top flue and burned so hot it was almost invisible. After that they began lighting the kindling in the barrels.
“Go on back to the house,” Sam shouted to me as I stood back to watch. “You’ve done all you can do. We’ll finish up.”
I wanted to argue, but I was really beginning to worry about my extremities. Besides, I could let Sweetie know they would be coming in soon, so she could have dinner ready. It was already dark, although I had no idea what time it actually was. I trudged back to the house, praying my feet would get some feeling back. Worry about Sam’s trees filled my mind. What if the orchard was lost? What would Sam and Sweetie do?
As I neared the house, I caught myself. What was I doing? Even though I felt as if I would freeze to the spot if I didn’t keep moving, I stopped.
“Father,” I said out loud, “You said that without faith it is impossible to please You. You also said we’re not to be anxious about anything, but with thanksgiving to send our requests to You. So I’m doing that now. I thank You for giving Sam this incredible home and these magnificent trees. I’m asking You to protect them, and I believe You will. Thank You for loving us so much and for caring about every part of our lives. Amen.” I felt better and realized my feet had begun to tingle. I guess they weren’t going to fall off after all.
When I reached the house, Sweetie stood by the door that led to the screened-in back porch. “ ‘Bout time someone came in. It’s after seven o’clock. You people been out there for hours and hours.” She held the door open and frowned at me. “Where’s the rest of ‘em?”
The fires from the barrels and pots lit up the encroaching darkness, so my answer seemed unnecessary, but I explained anyway. “The men are starting the fires. Sam told me to come in.”
“Can you feel your feet?” she asked.
“Kind of.”
“Come on over here and sit down. We’ll get you warmed up while I get dinner on the table. Those men are gonna be ready to chow down when they get back.”
I gladly entered the warm kitchen. Sarah sat at the table drinking something hot. I didn’t even care what it was; I just pointed at it and plopped down in the nearest chair. She poured me a cup of what turned out to be coffee. I pulled off my gloves and wrapped my frozen fingers around the cup. It felt so good my whole body shivered.
Sweetie knelt down next to me and pulled off my shoes and socks. Then she went to the sink and poured some water in a tub. “Let your feet dangle in this for a while,” she said, carrying it over and putting it down in front of me. “I’ll go get you some nice warm socks.”
Grateful for her help, I stuck my toes in the water. Immediately it felt as if thousands of little needles pierced my skin. I instinctively pulled my feet out.
“Put ‘em back in,” Sweetie said gruffly. “I know it stings, but that water is just room temperature. It won’t hurt you.”
Gingerly I lowered my tingling digits back into the tub. Slowly the rest of each foot followed. It didn’t feel quite so bad this time.
“Are the men almost finished?” Sarah asked after Sweetie left the room.
“Yes. It was a lot of work. I hope it does the trick.”
“It’s usually pretty effective, I guess. The past few winters have been rather mild, so it’s been awhile since I’ve seen it done.”
“Between our work and our prayers, I’m expecting good results. I’d hate to think I almost sacrificed my toes for nothing.”
She smiled. “I would, too.”
I drank the last of the coffee in my cup. “This might be the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.”
“That’s because you’re cold and tired.” She reached for my cup and went to the coffeemaker to pour me another cup.
“Oh, thank you. I think I’m beginning to feel human again.”
Sweetie came into the room carrying a thick pair of clean socks and a towel, which was thrown over her shoulder. She knelt down and removed my feet from the water. She dried them carefully and pulled a sock over each one. Her actions reminded me of Jesus washing the feet of His disciples. I almost pulled away, embarrassed to have someone do something so personal for me, but I felt a still, small voice tell me not to. As I stared down at Sweetie, who was focused on caring for me, I didn’t realize I was weeping until a tear fell from my face and onto my lap. I wiped my face, but not before Sweetie noticed.
“Well, for cryin’ out loud, girl. Whatcha bawlin’ about? I ain’t hurtin’ you, am I?”
I shook my head and smiled through my tears. “No. You’re not hurting me. I guess I’m just a little tired.”
She grunted and gave me a worried look. “After I get you warmed up, I want you to take it easy. That’s hard work out there. Shoulda left it for the men.”
“Actually, I would have enjoyed it if we hadn’t been out there for such a serious reason and it wasn’t so cold. It feels good to work hard.” I told the women about the barrel with the raccoons and Eric’s reaction to it. They both laughed along with me.
“How many times have you and Sam had to do this, Sweetie?” Sarah asked.
After getting the new warm socks on my feet, Sweetie picked up the tub and towel and stood up. She paused a moment and squinted like she was trying to see something far away. “Let’s see. Altogether I’d say we’ve been hit five or six times with temperatures below zero. Some was real serious.” She smiled and bobbed her head up and down. “But every time the good Lord was faithful and answered our prayers. I know He’ll do it this time, too.”
Sarah sighed. “You have such faith. I wish I had more. I worry too much about things.”
I wiggled my now-warm feet around, trying to make sure the circulation was back. “You worry about people, Sarah. Not things. There’s a difference.”
Sweetie dumped the water from the tub into the sink, splashing some of it on her apron. “Worry is worry, girls. Faith is faith.” She turned around, leaned against the sink, and stared at us, her features wrinkled in thought. “I been wonderin’ a lot about this faith stuff.” She shook her head. “I started worryin’ about it until I realized I was worryin’ about not worryin’!” She let loose a raucous laugh. “Now don’t that just take the cake?”
Then her expression turned somber. “You know, I’m right grateful to God for all He done for me. Sendin’ Sam into my life. Helpin’ me to have this wonderful place to live and all. And most of all, lovin’ a rough old broad like me. All He asks me to do is to trust Him and to cast my care on Him. I been figgerin’ that since He’s done so much for me, it’s a pretty little thing He’s askin’ me back. I’m gonna try harder to do just that. I really am.” With that she turned around and went back to rinsing out her tub and sink.
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Sarah and I just looked at each other. Sweetie Goodrich surprised me almost every day with her homespun wisdom. She had a way of talking about herself and convicting me right down in the bottom of my heart without knowing she’d done it. Seemed like lately she’d been full of little sermonettes. The time she’d spent studying God’s Word was starting to show.
“Sweetie, I think you’re a pretty smart woman, you know that?” Sarah’s tone was soft but sincere. “And I truly believe you’re right. It is a pretty little thing to ask. I think we’ll all quit worrying about the orchards and believe they’ll be just fine. How about that?”
I could only nod at her. The concern over Sam’s trees lifted, and I had a knowing down deep inside me that we would pass through this trial and come out victorious. A peace came into the room—and with it, a loud rumble from my stomach. “When is dinner ready, Sweetie?” I asked. “I’m starving!”
Just then the front door opened, and we heard the men clomping down the hall.
“It’s ready right now,” she said. “I’ve been keepin’ things warm for you all.”
I started to get up so I could help her, but she stopped me. “You stay right there, young lady. You’re plumb tuckered out. I got this well in hand.”
Sam stuck his head in the kitchen. “We’re gonna clean up a bit; then we’re ready to eat.” He sniffed the air. “Wow, that smells amazing. I could eat my dinner and everyone else’s.”
Sweetie jabbed a big spoon at him. “You ain’t eatin’ anyone’s food but your own. You ain’t never starved for nothin’ in my kitchen and you never will!”
Sam laughed and left the room. Within a matter of minutes, Sweetie had the table loaded with enough food to feel a small army. Even though I wasn’t allowed to do anything, she did let Sarah help set the table and carry over some delicious-looking dishes. The aroma from Sweetie’s roast beef along with huge browned potatoes, onions, and carrots made my mouth water. A broccoli and cheese casserole sat next to a big bowl of homemade applesauce. And big fluffy rolls came out of the oven, browned and slathered with butter. It didn’t take long for the men to file in. Sam said grace and we began filling our plates. No one spoke for a while. I could tell the men were even more exhausted and hungry than I was. Sam shoved his food down faster than anyone. Then he stood up and looked at his watch.
“It’s almost nine,” he said. “I’m taking the first watch. John, you volunteered for the second. Eric, you have the third, and Gabe, you offered to take the fourth. Am I remembering that right?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Aren’t you through?”
Sam’s smile only emphasized the weariness in his eyes. “Can’t leave those fires burning without someone watching them. Along with the cold, we need to be concerned about the wind. If any of those pots blow over, it could start a fire and cause us some real damage. Also, we need to make sure the fires don’t go out. Someone has to be on guard almost constantly.” He shook his head. “I’d feel better if we had more than one person at a time, but we’re all too tired to pull that off. As long as we’re careful, we can take turns.”
“I can take a shift,” I said.
Sarah and Sweetie both jumped in at the same time to offer their services. I could tell Sam was starting to say no, but I stopped him before he could get any further. “Look, Sam. You’ve spent time clearing the streets and now this. Except for tonight, I’ve been sitting around doing nothing. I admit I was a little tired before we ate, but I’m fine now. For crying out loud, all I have to do is watch the barrels and the pots, right? If there’s anything wrong, I’ll come and get you.” Again he started to say something, but I held my hand up. “Listen, if you guys get a couple hours of shut-eye, you’ll have a better chance of staying awake out there. You sit around for long in the cab of a warm truck, as tired as you are now, you won’t last more than fifteen minutes. Why don’t you let me take the first watch? You all get some rest, and someone can relieve me in two hours. Okay?”
It was clear he wanted to argue with me, but it wasn’t any use. My logic was too sound. Truthfully, I was still a little bit tired, but at least I wasn’t sleepy. I knew I could stay awake. Sam and the other guys were fighting to keep their eyes open. After some hesitation, he shrugged.
“All right. I have to admit that your way makes more sense.” He dug the keys to his truck out of his pocket and handed them to me. “Just drive up near the orchards. Park and watch for a while. About every fifteen minutes, drive all the way around. You’re looking for fires that have gone out or pots that have blown over. If you see anything that concerns you, come and get me. Don’t try to deal with it yourself.”
I threw him a mock salute. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
He smiled at me and then turned his attention to his aunt and Sarah. “Sweetie, I think you need to stay here. You’re cooking for a houseful of people.” She began to protest, but he interrupted her. “Let me finish. These are your orchards. Whatever you say goes. If you want to take a shift, that’s up to you.”
“Well, thank you for that. I was startin’ to wonder if you thought I was just some weak-willed woman.” She thought for a minute. “Why don’t I take the shift after Gracie? While she’s gone, I’ll put some breakfast casseroles together. That way in the mornin’ alls I gotta do is pop ‘em in the oven. That’ll give you guys four hours of sleep.”
“That sounds wonderful. But if either of you run into trouble, you hightail it back here and wake me up. Better yet, where are our walkie-talkies?”
“They’re right here.” Sweetie got up and went over to a drawer next to her sink. She pulled it open and removed two black instruments.
“So that’s how you guys keep in touch when you’re working outside?” Eric asked. “I noticed my cell phone is worthless out here.”
Sam nodded. “Cell phone service is spotty at best. These work great.” He turned his attention back to me. “I’ll keep one with me. If you need help, you call me.” He looked around at everyone seated at the table. “When your shift is over, you give your walkietalkie to the next person.”
He handed the walkie-talkie to me, and I got up from the table. “I’d like to change my clothes first. I won’t take long.”
“You go get ready,” Sweetie said. “I’ll make you a thermos of coffee to take with you. Should help to keep you alert. In fact, I’ll keep the pot on all night. If any of you want to take the thermos with you, just wash it out and fill it. Pass it to the next one.”
Everyone around the table expressed their thanks, but Sarah looked troubled. “What about me? Can’t I take a shift?”
“Daughter, we’re still concerned about you,” Gabe said. “You need to rest. Why don’t you help Sweetie?” Seeing her crestfallen expression, he smiled. “Tell you what, if you want, you can come with me. That way I know I can stay awake. Besides, you haven’t driven a truck like Sam’s before.”
She bristled at his comment. “I have driven a truck, Papa. I drove Uncle Matthew’s truck when we went to visit. And I can drive our tractor.”
Gabe tried to hide his quick grin. “Uncle Matthew’s truck is an automatic. And you drive the tractor in one gear, Sarah. You can’t do that with Sam’s truck. I don’t want you to get stranded outside in this weather—again.”
Sarah still looked somewhat disappointed, so he added, “I’ll tell you what, with Sam’s permission, while we’re keeping an eye on things, perhaps I could give you a driving lesson.” He looked at Sam for agreement.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Sam said. “Please feel free.”
Sarah’s face lit up, and she clapped her hands together. I noticed that color had come back into her cheeks. I was relieved to see her looking more and more like her old self.
I excused myself and ran upstairs. I had to change my jeans. The bottoms were still damp from the snow. After getting myself ready as quickly as I could, I said good-bye to everyone and headed for the orchards, Sweetie’s thermos beside me. A drive around the out
er rim revealed everything was okay. I parked the truck and poured some steaming coffee into the cup on top of the thermos. I tried to sip it, but it was too hot, so I let it cool for a couple of minutes.
I was wishing I’d brought Buddy with me for company when I spotted something that looked odd. A smudge pot appeared to be missing. Although I couldn’t memorize every position of every pot and barrel, I was certain I’d seen it at a particular location my first time around. But now there was only a dark space where the pot had been. Had it fallen over? Sam not only had warned all of us earlier about a fire starting from a tipped pot but also had mentioned that kerosene was deadly to the trees. The wind didn’t seem that strong at the moment, though.
Where could it be? It seemed silly to call Sam until I knew something was actually wrong, so I left the truck running and jogged into the orchard to get a closer look. When I reached the spot where the pot was supposed to be, I found nothing. I started to chalk it up to my own confusion, when I looked down and saw a bare spot where heat from the pot had melted the snow that still remained on the ground. So how could a large metal pot completely disappear? It didn’t make sense. I’d just turned to go back to the truck and call Sam when a sharp pain exploded on the side of my head, and everything around me turned dark.
Chapter Twelve
I lay on my bed in the purple bedroom, but for some reason it was really, really cold. I noticed a fire blazing in the fireplace. I tried to get closer to it, but it grew too big, pushing past the fire screen as if it were trying to reach me. Instead of drawing nearer, I found myself pushing away. The heat was intense. Sam began to call my name.
“Gracie, are you all right? We need to get you out of here. Come on, let’s get you up.”
I started to tell him I was trying to get away from the fire, when I remembered where I really was. In the orchard, lying in the snow.
“Come on, young lady. Can you stand up?”
Now why was Sam calling me “young lady”? I stared up at the figure that stood over me. “Sam? Is that you?”