by Diane Burke
“Samuel, what is it?”
His features were stone-cold, his expression grim.
“Fire.”
TEN
“Fire? Are you sure?” Sarah grasped the porch post and stared hard at the horizon. What had begun as a tiny glimmer was now an ominous orange light that grew in height and width even as they watched.
The sharp clanging of a bell broke the silence of the spring night. Seconds later Sam’s cell phone rang, the musical notes clashing with the continued clang of the farm triangle. He mumbled a few words in reply to whatever he was hearing, shoved the phone back in his coat pocket and raced for the barn.
“Samuel?”
“Stay there. Don’t move!” he yelled over his shoulder as he ran.
Sarah watched in alarm as the light became a looming two-story-high monster of flame on the horizon.
Jacob and Rebecca raced onto the porch.
“What’s happening?” Jacob stumbled toward Sarah in a half hop as he bent down to pull one of his boots on. Rebecca, tying the sash of her robe over her long flannel nightgown, was close on his heels.
Before Sarah could respond, Jacob yelled, “That’s Benjamin’s place! There’s a fire!” He turned and clasped his wife’s forearms. “I must go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He kissed her on the forehead.
Rebecca nodded. “God speed and keep you safe.”
Just as Jacob moved to the steps, Sam ran out of the barn, pulling one of the horses behind him. He brought it to a stop at the base of the stairs. “I thought it would be faster to saddle the horse than hitch the buggy.”
“Danki,” Jacob replied, throwing his foot in a stirrup and mounting up. The horse, sensing the tension and probably smelling the smoke, pawed the ground and tried to rear, but Jacob took control of the reins and had the steed settled and listening to commands in no time. “Take care of the women.”
Sam nodded and watched Jacob gallop away. He climbed the steps and joined the women. They watched in silence as what had been a glimmer of brightness now filled an uncomfortable stretch on the horizon, with ominous fingers of light that seemed to touch the sky.
“Let us say a prayer.” Rebecca clasped their hands. They bowed their heads and prayed for safety of all who faced the flames, for strength to deal with whatever lay in wait, for hope that no life would be lost. They knew that material things could be replaced.
“What do you think happened?” Sarah asked. She removed the quilt from her shoulders and tucked it around Rebecca, then sat down beside her.
“I don’t know.” Rebecca sounded as surprised and confused as the rest of them. “It is late. I’m sure the propane stove was turned off. No engines would be running in the barn at this time of night. Perhaps a kerosene lamp was knocked over. But...” Her words trailed off, and worry lines etched her face.
“But what?” Sarah asked.
“A kerosene lamp should not be sufficient to cause that size flame,” Sam said. His hardened features looked like they were carved in granite. He didn’t seem able to pull his eyes away from the horizon. “Even if a lamp had been knocked over onto something flammable, the lamp would not have been unattended, and the resulting fire should have been easily contained.”
Sarah gasped. “Are you saying this fire was deliberately set? Who would do such a thing?”
Sam stared hard at her. His silence and the truth she saw in his eyes chilled her to the bone, more than his words ever could.
“Nee, Samuel. I refuse to believe anyone set the fire.” Rebecca rubbed her hands together against the chill that raced through her body. “In your world, you are accustomed to meeting evil every day. I understand your mind jumping to that thought. But in our community, accidents are usually just that—accidents.”
Rebecca patted Sarah on the shoulder. “Kumm inside, child. You are still recovering and must not stress yourself. You, too, Samuel. There is nothing you can do out here to help. I will make some hot chocolate.” She stood and folded the quilt over her arm. “I would appreciate it, Samuel, if you would bring in some extra wood for the fireplace. It is going to be a long night for all of us.”
Rebecca stepped toward the door, but spun back around when she heard Sarah gasp.
“Look! Over there!” Sarah pointed her index finger to a spot a considerable distance west of the fire. “Do you see it? Tell me I’m not seeing what I think I see.”
Sam and Rebecca huddled beside her. The three of them stared at the small flicker of light in the distance. Terrifying moments passed as they watched the light intensify and grow.
“It can’t be. That’s not another fire, is it?” Sarah held her breath. She hoped it was a reflection of something, or that her overactive imagination was spooked and creating worst-case scenarios.
A second bell began clanging furiously, the frantic sound wafting across the night air.
“That’s the Yoder farm.” Rebecca’s voice was little more than an awestruck whisper. “The Yoders have a fire.”
The three of them stood in silence and watched the light quickly become an orange wall against the night.
Over the horizon and harder to see, another light appeared. Another clanging bell joined the unwanted symphony of the night.
“Oh God, please Lord, help them.” Rebecca’s eyes widened, and shock was evident on her face. “It is too far to be certain, but I think that is coming from Nathan and Esther’s place. They just had a baby last week. Please God, let them be safe.”
“Why is this happening? I don’t understand.” Sarah tried to keep the panic out of her voice as she counted at least three yellow-orange walls of flame shooting high in the night sky.
Sam wiped a hand over his face and then threw his arms over the shoulders of the two women huddled together in front of him.
“Evil is no longer out in the Englisch world, Rebecca. Evil is here.”
* * *
The sunshine streaming through her bedroom window brought Sarah fully awake. She arched her back like a sleepy cat upon awakening, stretched her right arm over her head, and then used it to push up into a sitting position. She adjusted the sling on her left arm and winced at the pain still throbbing in her left shoulder whenever she jarred it.
Her thoughts wandered to the night before. Had it all been a horrible nightmare? It took her a moment to orient herself. No, it had been only too real.
She’d sat with Rebecca for hours in front of the fireplace, sipping hot chocolate, reading the Bible together and waiting. Sam had paced like a caged animal. He slipped outside every thirty minutes or so to check the Lapp barn and the perimeter of the house before hurrying back inside. He was a man whose emotions were torn. Sarah knew he’d wanted to go with Jacob and help the men, but she also knew he would never shirk his duty of protecting Rebecca and herself.
She dressed hurriedly, pulled the kapp over her bandaged head and walked to the bedroom door. It had been almost dawn when Jacob had come home. His body had screamed of fatigue. The haunted look in his eyes told them it had been as bad as they had suspected.
She wondered if anyone else was up yet. She eased the door open and heard the sound of men’s voices below.
Padding softly down the stairs, she saw Jacob surrounded by men. She recognized Benjamin, Nathan, Thomas and several others she’d met but still couldn’t place names to faces. The deep rumble of conversation wafted up the steps and then ceased when they sensed her approach.
“Guder mariye, gentlemen. Please don’t let me interrupt.” Sarah smiled and nodded as the men returned her greeting. She passed them and headed into the kitchen, stopping abruptly when she saw at least a half-dozen Amish women gathered around the table.
“Kumm, Sarah, join us.” Rebecca waved her to the table, lifted the pot and poured her a hot cup of kaffe. “We are discussing the troubles of last nigh
t and dividing up the workload.”
“Ya.” Elizabeth Miller passed Sarah apple butter and fresh bread. “Our barn was first, but there were four more barns burned to the ground last night.”
“Five barns?” Sarah couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. She’d seen three fires. There’d been two more.
“Ya, five barns. There was no way the fire department could reach even one of the barns in time, let alone five. There was nothing we could do but keep the fires from spreading,” Elizabeth said.
“That’s how Esther got hurt,” Rebecca said. “She ran out to help Nathan. Part of the barn collapsed on her. She got a pretty nasty burn on her back.”
Sarah gasped. “Isn’t she the woman who just had a baby last week?”
“Ya,” Rebecca replied. “We are just discussing a schedule on how we can help with chores and dinner. She will have her hands full taking care of her boppli. We will help with everything else until she is recovered.”
“What can I do?”
“Sarah, dear, you must work on getting better yourself.” Elizabeth patted her hand. “You have only been out of the hospital two days, ya?”
“Maybe so, but I’m not helpless. There must be something I can do, especially since...”
“What?” Elizabeth asked.
Sarah felt even worse when she saw the kindness in Elizabeth’s eyes. She lowered her gaze. “Since everyone here knows it is my fault the barns were burned.”
“Nonsense,” Elizabeth said, and the other women at the table murmured their agreement. “You did not burn our barns. You did not hold our children hostage in their school. You did not kill one of our own and severely injure another of our loved ones.” Elizabeth’s eyes welled with tears. “This bad thing has happened to all of us, Sarah, and I’m thinking you have suffered most of all.”
The other women at the table nodded.
“We will put this in God’s hands,” Rebecca said. “It is not our way to seek vengeance or punishment. It is our way to help. So let’s divide the work, for there is much to do.”
“Sarah and I will prepare three yummasette casseroles and three pies. We will deliver them to the Yoders, the Burkholders and the Zooks.”
“Gut. Hannah and I will cook for Elizabeth and Benjamin.”
Elizabeth started to protest, but Hannah waved her silent. “Nee, Elizabeth, you are not going to work all day, helping with Esther’s house and boppli, and think you are coming home to your own chores, too. We will have a hot meal for you and Benjamin by the end of this day.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Danki.”
“We will all be working to help each other,” Rebecca said. “Now let’s finish our kaffe. There is much to do.”
* * *
The men decided as a group to rebuild one barn at a time rather than scatter their labor force. Once that decision was made, Jacob pulled out Peter’s wagon and went to town for lumber while the other men left for Benjamin’s. The women scattered to their own homes to prepare the meals they’d promised.
When Rebecca returned to the kitchen, she had a surprised look on her face.
Sarah looked up from her preparations. “What? Is something missing?” She glanced down at the bread, soup, ground beef, onion, peas and noodles she had collected on the table.
Rebecca smiled. “Nee, everything is there. I am just happy to see you remember.”
Sarah froze and then smiled. “I guess I do remember.” She glanced at the ingredients in front of her and then at Rebecca. “I don’t have a definite memory of making this particular casserole, but when you mentioned it I knew right away what ingredients to gather. Did I make this often?”
“One of your many talents was your cooking. After you married Peter, you took over preparing the main meal for all of us each evening. Rarely would you even let me step inside the kitchen.” Rebecca smiled at her. “I suppose that is why I started making huge breakfasts for everyone.”
Rebecca clasped her hand. “This is a gut thing, Sarah. Soon now, God willing, you will remember even more.”
Sarah smiled at the older woman, but it was only a smile for show—it didn’t touch her heart. Yes, she knew the ingredients for yummasette casserole. Just like she knew how to brush her teeth or wash her face. It came naturally to her, ingrained deep inside like breathing. But she still had no flashes of memory where she could see herself preparing the dish. She didn’t want to dash Rebecca’s hopes, but she was beginning to fear she would never remember the past again.
Not wanting to give Rebecca any more grief—five neighbors’ barns burning through the night had caused enough of that—she squeezed the woman’s hand, and the two of them began the day’s cooking.
* * *
Samuel kept himself scarce for most of the day and allowed the women to work in peace. He was always on the periphery, doing what chores he could while still keeping himself within shouting distance of the kitchen. Every now and then he’d step inside under the guise of getting a glass of water. He’d snitch a piece of sliced apple or a piece of cheese, and Rebecca would puff up like a mad hen and smack at his fingers and scoot him away, but he never strayed far.
Many times through the course of the morning, Sarah could feel his eyes on her. She’d look up to see him gazing in through the kitchen window or pausing in the doorway. It should have annoyed her, but instead it made her feel cared for and protected.
Sarah sensed his discontent. She’d see him gaze in the distance toward the neighboring farms. She knew he was itching to pick up a hammer and help the men. But the moment would pass, and he’d seem to settle into his routine of barn chores and watching the women.
Samuel seemed relieved, even happy, when Rebecca asked him to hitch up the buggy so they could deliver the food.
Rebecca offered to drive the buggy herself and urged Sarah to stay behind and rest, but Sarah would have none of it. She was tired, sure. She was pretty certain they were all exhausted by now after having such little sleep. But her pain level was tolerable, and no matter what the women told her this morning, she did feel responsible for their troubles. No one would stop her from delivering this food. It was the least she could do.
Samuel sensed this. When she glanced his way, he was already standing beside the buggy and extending his hand to help her inside. They’d known each other for little more than a few weeks, and yet he seemed to know her so well—guessing correctly what she would do or how she would feel before she even knew those things herself. How could this stranger become a friend so quickly? How could they be so attuned to each other’s thoughts and feelings? And what kind of pain was she going to feel when he left?
When those thoughts entered her head, she shooed them away. Samuel had become a good friend and confidant. He’d sit and talk with her for hours. Although, if she was honest, she did most of the talking.
Samuel was a great listener. He didn’t judge. He didn’t offer unsolicited advice. He didn’t seem to expect her to be anything other than who she was. She could relax with him. She didn’t have to be constantly striving to recall the past or deal with others’ disappointments when she couldn’t.
“Well, are you coming or do I have to carry you to the buggy?” Sam grinned and shook his waiting hand, as though she may have missed seeing it held out for the past few minutes.
“I’m coming. Hold your horses.”
Sam jiggled the reins in his other hand. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Sarah laughed and allowed him to help her into the buggy. She adjusted the basket she carried on her lap and anchored it between the sling on her left arm and her body to keep it from falling.
Sam helped Rebecca into the seat beside her, handed up the basket she carried and raced around to climb in the left side of the front seat.
“Okay, ladies. This is your last chance. Do a quick mental
checklist. Do you have everything? This horse doesn’t know how to turn around. It only goes forward.”
Both women chuckled and assured him it was safe to leave, and he clicked his tongue and jiggled the reins.
The buggy ride was more painful than Sarah had expected. Each bounce and jolt sent shooting pains into her left shoulder and down the side of her back, but she didn’t complain. She kept a smile pasted on her face and offered a silent prayer that the ride would soon be over. Gratitude washed over her when a little while later they pulled up in front of the Miller home. Benjamin’s three children hooped and hollered as they raced each other to the buggy.
Rebecca nodded toward the approaching children. “You may not have your memory back yet, Sarah, but the kinner remember that you always bring cookies with you when you come to visit.”
Samuel helped Rebecca out of the buggy. She took her basket up to the house just as William, Benjamin’s oldest boy, squeezed past her into the seat she’d vacated.
“Hi, Sarah. Did you bring any chocolate chip cookies with you?”
“Mamm will be mad at you for asking for cookies.” The little girl, who was standing on a wheel hub and leaning into the buggy, was adorable. About five or six years old with golden blond hair and brilliant blue eyes, she looked like a living, breathing doll. “But if you did bring cookies, I want one too, please.”
Sarah laughed. “Well, lucky for both of you I just happen to have a fresh batch of cookies in my basket.”
The children squirmed and bounced in anticipation while Sarah slipped her hand inside and pulled out one cookie for each of them. “Don’t you have another brother?” She handed them their treats. “I think someone told me there are three of you.”
The girl giggled, and the high-pitched melody sounded like wind chimes on a breezy day. “You’re silly, Sarah. You know there are three of us—William, Daniel and me.” She hung by one arm off the buggy and swung back and forth.
“You’re right. How silly of me to forget.” The child was so adorable. Sarah couldn’t help but wonder whether her child would be a girl or a boy, and if that child would be as cute and impish as these two.