Would-Be Mistletoe Wife

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Would-Be Mistletoe Wife Page 14

by Christine Johnson


  Yes, that must be it. She settled back at her desk and began jotting notes for a lecture on wind.

  * * *

  The moment Jesse stepped into the base of the tower, he smelled the smoke. Maybe the wind had pushed the stove’s smoke back down the chimney. Then again, if that was the case, he should have smelled it in the house, not the tower.

  Blackthorn wasn’t there. He must be in the lantern.

  Jesse lit a lamp and began the climb, taking two steps at a time. Something had happened, and he had a feeling it wasn’t a mechanical breakdown. Round and around he went until reaching the short landing. From there, he crawled up the ladder and popped through the open hatch into the lantern.

  “There you are,” Blackthorn said as Jesse pulled himself onto the lantern floor.

  In the light of the lamp, Blackthorn looked worried.

  Jesse got to his feet. “What is it?”

  “Look there, to the north, when the beam faces opposite.” Blackthorn pointed up the coast.

  Jesse waited, but even before the beam focused away, he saw the glow in the sky. “What is it?”

  “Not only there. Look across the lake and south.”

  Jesse only had to wait a second, and then his mouth went dry. “The sky. It’s...orange.”

  “Just like Holland way. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Blackthorn shook his head. “Sometimes I can pick out the glow of a city, but it’s pretty faint. This? I don’t know what to make of it.”

  Jesse did. He’d seen that glow before, though much closer. He squeezed his eyes shut and told himself to take a breath. Then another and another. It couldn’t be. There must be another explanation.

  “Street lamps?” It was a feeble explanation.

  “That’d take a whole lot of lamps from this distance. Must be sixty, seventy miles away at least. Even Chicago couldn’t put out that much light.”

  Jesse’s heart sank as the truth settled in. It was the Sultana again, only worse. The steamship had taken 1700 lives and lit the night sky. Folks nearby saw it from their homes. But they weren’t sixty miles away. For him to see an orange glow from this distance, the conflagration must be enormous. Moreover, it was burning to the north as well, much closer and thus much more deadly to those living in Singapore.

  Louise!

  His heart stopped. She slept in a wooden building. So did the students. So did families and workers and children. Everyone. The nightmare he’d feared had begun.

  “Fire,” he croaked.

  Wind rattled the panes of glass encasing the lantern. On such a night, the keeper had to stay ready to relight the lamps, for the gusts could blow them out.

  “We have to warn everyone.” Yet Jesse’s feet stayed rooted to the spot. Just like in Vicksburg. Just like on the Sultana. If the blast hadn’t propelled him through the air and into the water, he would have perished with the rest. In a crisis, he froze.

  Lord, help us. Help me.

  Blackthorn grabbed his arm with a viselike grip. “You’re faster than me. Go. We might have just enough time.”

  God answered Jesse’s prayer. His limbs moved. Without any thought but saving Louise, he raced to the ladder and headed down it.

  “Take the lamp.” Blackthorn handed it to him.

  Jesse could have made it down without a light. He thought only of one thing. He had to get Louise out of the school before the fires reached Singapore.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The distant sound of banging pulled Louise from her thoughts and the chapter on wind in Captain Elder’s book.

  What was that sound, and how long had it been going on? Groggily, she realized the hour was late. Contrary to her earlier plan, she had spent far too long studying the chapter. She ought to be in bed.

  Again the pounding began. Not mere knocking. Whoever it was, he had resorted to banging with his fists. It must be a man. No woman would make such a racket.

  Rising, she stretched her stiff back and then took up the lamp she’d been using. The treatise on wind would have to wait.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming,” she said as the pounding continued.

  The individual clearly didn’t hear her, since the banging didn’t stop.

  It took long moments to traverse the hallway and reach the front door. The girls must have heard the pounding, for Dinah, Linore and Adeline waited on the steps.

  “What is it?” Linore asked.

  “I don’t know. Go back to your rooms.” Louise had little hope they would do as she asked. Their curiosity must be as great as hers.

  At last she reached the front door, which she unlatched and then opened. The swirling gale blew in more withered bits of leaves along with the smell of smoke. On the porch, fist raised, stood Jesse. His face was flushed, and his eyes looked wild.

  “Fire!” he gasped.

  Louise looked left and then right. She saw nothing. “Where?”

  He pointed along the length of the porch, toward the hotel.

  Louise hurried outside, her heart nearly stopped. Surely not the hotel. She pushed past Jesse to get a better view and saw nothing but the warm glow of a lamp in the window of the Evanses’ quarters.

  “The hotel isn’t on fire.”

  “Not the hotel,” Jesse croaked, his voice strangely pinched. “The town. Holland.”

  “Holland?”

  The town was roughly ten miles to the north and the largest within ready distance. Those who hadn’t come from a place like New York or Chicago considered it a city.

  Jesse was nodding. “And Chicago, if we’re not mistaken.”

  “Chicago?” It was beyond belief. “Surely a large city like that with a fire department would not be ablaze.”

  Jesse was shaking his head. “The streets are wood, the sidewalks are wood, the buildings are wood—just like here.”

  “But they would never—”

  He grabbed her shoulders, stopping her thoughts midstream. “It doesn’t matter what’s happening elsewhere. What matters is what might happen here. Holland is close, and I spotted a glow closer, inland. With this wind, it could reach here. You need to get the students out of the building. Get everyone out. The town has to be notified. People can’t die in their beds.”

  He was panicked, and she had to calm him down.

  “It’s not here yet,” she said slowly, “and the winds are from the southwest. They would blow the flames in the opposite direction.”

  He shook his head. “You saw the tinder-dry slash on the ground and how dry the pines are. A shift in the wind direction would burn them in an instant.”

  The urgency in his voice propelled her into action, albeit at a less frantic pace. “I will get the girls onto the porch. Then we’ll tell everyone at the hotel. I can get to the Garrett Decker house and the mercantile if you can reach the boardinghouse and the bunkhouses.”

  “I sent the Blackthorn boys to the farthest bunkhouses. I’ve got the rest.” He clattered down the porch steps and then turned around a brief moment. “Louise? Do what you must to stay safe. Go to the shore, to the river, whatever it takes.” Then he was off.

  Though panic threatened, need was greater. The girls depended on her. So too did precious families, now asleep in their beds. While running back indoors, Louise prayed that not one soul would perish.

  As she began to round up the girls, she took comfort in one concern buried in Jesse’s words. He’d come to warn her first.

  * * *

  “We need to be ready with buckets,” Jesse said to Roland Decker and the other men crowded around.

  They stood near the docks, where water could be drawn and where the half-moon’s light shone brightest. While he spoke, the men had been quiet, but now a murmur, punctuated with the occasional complaint, filled the air. Jesse looked around at
the crowd. If he’d paid better attention the few times he’d ventured into town, he would remember names. In the darkness, he barely recognized a face other than Roland.

  “There’s no fire here yet,” Roland said calmly. “Maybe we’d better send out scouts to see how close it is.”

  “Good idea.”

  Roland searched the growing crowd. “Jimmy?”

  That was the lad who helped at the store. Jesse remembered that much.

  The boy appeared with a couple of friends, including Charlie from the hotel, all eager to assist. Roland sent them off in different directions—north toward Holland, inland and south.

  “I didn’t ask if the town has a fire engine,” Jesse said.

  “Just a steam tractor to clear away flammable materials like logs and such.” Roland still looked around, as if trying to find someone. “But there’s not much of that left in the area. Thankfully, the sand won’t burn.” Again he peered into the darkness.

  “Are you looking for someone?”

  “Pearl.” Roland sounded worried. “She went to visit Amanda.”

  “Amanda?” Jesse was familiar with Roland’s wife, Pearl, but the other name was unfamiliar.

  “Garrett’s wife.”

  “Your brother.”

  Roland nodded.

  His concern now made sense. Jesse could ease it. “Louise went to your brother’s house. She said she was going there immediately after the hotel.”

  “Then where is Pearl? She should have been here by now. It’s not like her to delay. I hope she didn’t go back to the mercantile.”

  “Don’t worry.” Jesse gripped his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll find her if you organize the bucket brigade.”

  Roland nodded, though he looked less than thrilled that he wasn’t the one looking for his wife.

  “You know everyone,” Jesse explained. “You know who has buckets and who doesn’t. I’ll bring Pearl here when I find her.” He paused as the hole in his plan became obvious. “Where does your brother live?”

  “Down this street, third house on the right.”

  Jesse took off at a brisk pace. The sooner he could bring husband and wife together, the sooner Roland’s attention would focus completely on the task at hand. Jesse trusted the man. He was not like his commander in Vicksburg. He wouldn’t put personal desire ahead of the greater good. Still, a man wanted to know his loved ones were safe.

  In no time he reached the brother’s house. It was the same size as the other family homes but the lit windows revealed frilly curtains and a cheerfulness that made Jesse wish for the home he barely remembered—the one from his childhood, when Ma was still living.

  He pushed through the gate in the picket fence and strode the short distance to the front door. One knock brought a response, unlike when he’d gone to the school.

  Louise opened the door. “Yes?”

  He blinked. For some reason he hadn’t expected to see Louise. To avoid the rush of emotion, he looked around her, searching for Roland’s wife. The house was full of women. He recognized the girls from the school and several women he’d seen at various places around town, but he didn’t see Pearl.

  “Jesse?” Louise’s voice broke through his thoughts. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

  Jesse focused on his mission. “Roland is looking for Pearl. Is she here?”

  “She is going from house to house organizing the blanket brigade.”

  “Of course.” The women were soaking blankets that would then be placed on the roofs to protect them from sparks. “Then eventually she’ll reach her husband. He is worried.”

  Louise’s expression softened. “They’re still newlyweds.”

  The look on her face unleashed a torrent of emotion. He would be worried about Louise if he didn’t know where she was.

  “Don’t worry.” Louise touched his arm, and the spot burnt hot as fire. The moment he looked down, she removed it. “We will be quite safe. Garrett is on his way to his brother as we speak. Roland probably already knows what’s going on. Together we will save this town.”

  He’d heard her confidence on this subject before. He prayed she was right, but to the northeast, an orange glow illuminated the horizon.

  “I’ll be right back,” Louise called out to those gathered inside. She pulled a shawl around her shoulders as she joined him on the porch.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the boardinghouse. I’m helping to carry blankets to each of the buildings.”

  It made perfect sense, but Jesse didn’t like the idea of Louise out alone with fire in the air. The smell of smoke had grown more intense.

  “I’ll be all right,” she said, her voice full of compassion. “Make sure Roland knows his bride is safe.”

  Jesse knew that was what he should do. He knew how independent she could be. Louise Smythe did not like to be coddled. That much he had learned in the time they’d spent together.

  He glanced toward the two-story boardinghouse. “It’s dark. What if you stumble?”

  “The moon is bright.”

  “I can walk with you.”

  “Jesse Hammond, I am not a naïve young lady prone to wander. I’m a grown woman, and I’ve traveled this short distance dozens of times. I will not get lost, neither will I turn an ankle.” She lightly touched his arm. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Her words bit deep. Was he being overprotective of a woman he had insisted could be no more than a friend?

  Her next sentence sent his emotions soaring in quite another direction. “Your knowledge and skill could save this town. We’re depending on you. I’m depending on you.”

  * * *

  Louise wished she had never spoken. The refrain that had come out of her mouth whenever Warren complained of something lacking in her homemaking had echoed in her frustration over Jesse’s overprotectiveness.

  She knew better than he did how to navigate this town. After all, she had lived here for over a year while he had been here less than a month.

  Yet the look on his face spiked her guilt. She should not have lashed out. Jesse was not Warren. He didn’t realize how safe Singapore was nor how capable she could be on her own. Instead of lashing out, she should have boosted his pride through encouragement.

  As she hurried over the boardwalks to the boardinghouse, she felt the sting of self-reproach. Could she ever become the woman of God described so well in the thirty-first chapter of the book of Proverbs?

  Thankfully, Mrs. Calloway’s delight at her arrival shook away the melancholy thoughts.

  “We have much to do,” the boardinghouse proprietress said as she led Louise into the kitchen. “The men will need feeding, and there are still more blankets to deliver. Can you send someone to fetch the food when you return with the blankets?”

  “Of course.”

  “And we’ll need to make up all the rooms. Tell Fiona to get the hotel ready too. People who’ve lost their homes will come here. You can count on it.” Mrs. Calloway continued issuing instructions, following Louise while she fetched a stack of blankets and headed for the front door.

  “I’ll be right back,” Louise stated as she pushed the door open. “I’ll send the girls over. They can make beds.” It would also get them out from under her wings.

  “Thank you, dear.”

  Louise hurried across the veranda and down the steps. By this, her third trip, the blankets felt much heavier than they had the first time. Perhaps there were more in this load.

  The wind howled off the lake, driving sand through the air. It had pushed her along on her way to the boardinghouse. Now she must press against it. She lowered her head and closed her eyes to slits so the grit didn’t get into them. Each step became a labor. The wind sucked the breath from her lungs.

  “Oof!” She plowed
into something solid and nearly lost her armful of blankets.

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry.” The unfamiliar voice was laced with tearful emotion. “I wasn’t watching where I was walking.”

  “It’s all right, Mother,” said a man’s voice.

  Louise’s heart jumped into her throat. The people that Mrs. Calloway predicted had begun to arrive. “You are from outside town?”

  “We’re farmers from east of Goshorn Lake.” The woman’s voice trembled. “Do you know where we might get shelter?”

  “Mrs. Calloway will look after you at the boardinghouse.” Louise pointed the woman and her husband in the right direction. Only then did she notice the five children huddled between them. They carried nothing and didn’t even have coats.

  Louise offered blankets, but the husband refused, saying others needed them more, and they had just a short distance to the boardinghouse.

  As she watched them walk away, her own petty concerns fell off, like scales from her eyes. This was where true service lay. These people needed help. The sooner she got to the Decker house, the sooner she could send assistance to the boardinghouse.

  She hurried her step, this time able to ignore the stinging sand. When she reached the house, she pounded on the door, and it readily opened. The crowd inside had thinned, but the students were still there.

  “Mrs. Calloway needs help at the boardinghouse. The first family from the country has arrived. Girls, would you go with me there?”

  Linore and Dinah readily agreed. Priscilla and her friends were less inclined until Pearl mentioned that Mrs. Calloway would have food and hot tea ready. Then they eagerly joined Louise on the walk back.

  As before, the wind pushed her along the boardwalk. She kept the girls ahead of her so they wouldn’t take a wrong turn. Dinah and Linore were nearly as familiar with the town as Louise was, but Priscilla’s group had always refused to go anywhere other than the church. One trip to the store had soured them on further forays to that destination. Priscilla had declared it had nothing of value whatsoever. Thankfully neither Roland nor Pearl had heard her.

 

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