Blessed Assurance (17 page)

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Authors: Lyn Cote

BOOK: Blessed Assurance
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Jessie found Miss Wright, calmly waiting inside the front door. “I'm ready to go. Here's your shawl.”

“I must get—”

“I've gathered all your daguerreotypes and letters from Will in this satchel. You'll have to carry it.” Both glanced around the foyer as though memorizing it.

“Jessie!” Susan screeched from the front walk. “Come out! The back porch gone caught fire!”

As Jessie helped Miss Wright through the door, she put Jessie's fear into words, “I hope we haven't delayed too long.”

Terrified, Jessie led them out into the now empty street. The glare from the burning alley, overwhelming the night's darkness, cast a terrifying radiance over the faces looking to her. Embers, sparks, burning ash swirled around her in the blistering maelstrom. Ruby's dress caught fire. Jessie frantically beat the flames with her hand.

Jessie managed to lead them a block northwest, the two older women staggering between her and Susan. Then the wind shifted and, under her horrified gaze, outflanked them. It blocked the street in front of them. “We're hemmed in on three sides!”

Miss Wright pointed east. “We must get to the lake before we are surrounded and cut off. Hurry!”

Miss Wright increased her halting gait. Jessie took her arm, helping her to hurry. Susan helped Ruby.

The scorching fire crowded close. Its din crackled, filled Jessie's ears. The smell of burning wood overwhelmed her. The fire was a giant hand reaching out to pull them into its death grip.

“I shouldn't have waited!” Jessie moaned. The smoky air made her cough, but she didn't slacken pace. They were running for their lives.
God help us. Forgive me for staying too long. Please, Lord, these women depended on me.

Suddenly Ruby collapsed in a heap. “I can't…go…on—” She coughed, wheezed.

Choking smoke roiled around Jessie. For a moment, she was paralyzed. The fire swirled just behind her. The wall of a nearby house crashed into the street. Flaming debris cascaded over them like a shower of flaming darts.

Susan shrieked, “Grandma, get up, the fire is right on us!” The young woman tried but couldn't lift Ruby. “Help me, Jessie!” Jessie ran to Susan.

“I can't go on,” Ruby gasped, choked. “Leave me.” But Jessie and Susan strained to get the old woman back on her feet.

Miss Wright's cane slashed down right behind Ruby, jolting them all. “Get up!” the old schoolteacher commanded. “Get up or we'll all die!”

“Leave me,” Ruby implored.

The cane crashed down. “Get up! If you don't, you'll kill us all. We won't go on without you!” The cane slammed down again. “Now!”

Ruby lunged to her feet. Jessie and Susan grabbed Ruby under her arms. Overpowering heat roared around Jessie's hair, singeing, burning.

“Go!” Miss Wright ordered. She prodded Ruby with the point of her cane. “Go! I'm right behind you!”

Ruby leaned heavily on Jessie and Susan as they dragged her along between them. Exploding barrels, overexpanded by the overwhelming heat, the roar of the fire, collapsing walls, crumbling chimneys, all merged into a horrific din. Searing heat scorched Jessie. She panted for air and choked in black smoke.

She labored along with Susan to keep Ruby on her feet, her back breaking. Her lungs about to explode. But Miss Wright's cane prodded relentlessly.

“The beach!” Jessie gasped. They all stumbled across the last street onto the narrow sandy beach.

“Don't stop!” Miss Wright ordered. “The fire is right behind us. To the water!”

Jessie strained over the last twenty feet of the harrowing trek and waded into Lake Michigan. She shivered violently as her scorched body plunged into the icy October waves. She led the others out onto a shallow sandbar—as far away from the shore as possible. As one, they turned back to view the city.

“Oh, Lord!” Ruby cried out.

The whole western skyline flamed in brilliant orange and scarlet. Above the remaining skeletons of buildings, huge billows of black smoke surged, tumbled toward heaven.

The sight shredded the last of Jessie's self-control. “My son! Lincoln!” she screamed. “Mother! Lee! I've lost them all!”

Susan pulled Jessie to her and fiercely wrapped her arms around her. She shouted, “Almighty God, you save that boy and Esther and Lee. God, save my people, too! Caleb, Lord, keep him safe. He a stubborn man. You freed us. You can't leave us without hope. You saved us! You be our hope and salvation. Cover us with Your mighty hand!”

“That we should live to see such a sight,” Miss Wright said to Ruby as they listened to Susan's pleas to heaven.

Ruby faced her. “Lord, have mercy on us.”

Tears slid down Miss Wright's cheeks. “I don't know if I can bear to lose Margaret's only grandchild.”

“The Lord will protect him,” Ruby said, looking up at Miss Wright.

“He must. He must.” Miss Wright put her arms around the other woman's broad shoulders and began to weep without restraint.

Ruby bent her own head and rested it on Miss Wright's breast and let her tears flow too. “Lord, have mercy on us. Lord, have mercy.”

October 10, 1871

The noisy crowded church-turned-hospital was momentarily peaceful. The afternoon sun sparkled through the stained glass windows in brilliant crimson, royal blue, gilded amber. Taking solace from the glittering display, Lee blinked his gritty eyes. Since the fire began Sunday evening, he had slept little. With the deluge of burnt
and broken patients over the past two days, all the knowledge he'd thought he'd forgotten had come rushing back.

“Doctor?”

Yawning behind his hand, Lee bent to look at the plump volunteer nurse at his elbow.

“Have you set up the dispensary yet?”

“Yes, a tent outside has been organized.”

“Excellent. We'll need a list of what is available. Distribute it to the other doctors.”

“Certainly, Dr. Smith.” The volunteer hurried away.

“Doctor?” The familiar feminine voice came, sounding surprised.

“Pearl!” Lee folded her into his arms. “You're safe.”

Pearl stepped back to look at him. “So you're not a bartender, you're a doctor?”

“Yes, I'm Dr. Leland Granger Smith.” Two days and two nights of raging fire had left its mark on his attractive, former employer, now soot-covered and disheveled like all the rest.

“I'm looking for my father.” Her voice hoarse, Pearl searched his face, her hands knotted. “His block burned to the ground. I finally found a neighbor who said my father had been struck by a collapsing wall. This is the third makeshift hospital I've been to.”

His heart aching for Jessie and Linc, Lee rested his hand on her shoulder. “What's his name?”

“Lorenz Schiffer.”

Lee guided her to a small table near the pulpit of the church where he flipped through a stack of papers on the table. “He's on my list.”

Pearl pressed her hands to her heart. “He's here?” Her voice broke with emotion.

Lee put an arm around her shoulder to brace her as he led her down the aisle, flanked by pews that now served as beds, back to the rows of blankets on the floor of church's foyer.

Surveying the tired, injured men lying there, Lee motioned Pearl to a pallet where an old man lay, bandaged but awake.

“Papa!” Pearl knelt beside her father and bent forward to hug him. “I've been so worried—”

Lee stepped back, not wanting to intrude on their reunion, one of many he'd witnessed over the last two days. Had Jessie, Linc, and everyone else come through the fire safely? Where were they? Did they need him?

At last, Pearl stood up. “How long will my father have to stay here?” She dabbed her moist eyes with a smudged hankie.

“All he really needs is good food and bedrest.”

“You don't know…the worry…” She sagged. Lee caught her, holding her against him.

Her eyes fluttered open. “What happened? Did I faint? I never—”

“Over the past two days, we've all done things we normally don't do.”

She nodded, her lips pursed. “How's your Jessie?”

Holding in the pain, Lee shook his head. “It's early yet. The fires only stopped burning hours ago. That made it hard to get news.” He repeated the same words he'd comforted so many others within the past hours.

“The Workman's Rest is a total loss.” She looked down at the toes of her muddy shoes.

“What will you do?”

She sighed. “Right now, I'm just glad we're all alive.” She smiled suddenly; her usual teasing manner returning, “Are you going to tell me why a doctor was bartending for me?”

Lee recognized and appreciated her attempt to rally him from gloom. He grinned for her. “Sometime.”

“You really
are
a doctor?”

Lee said in a mock serious tone, “Harvard Class of 1861.”

She shook her head at him. “You never didn't fit my idea of a barkeep.”

“Pearl, you never fit my idea of a bar owner. You know you
made
the best nickel lunch in town. Why not build a restaurant instead of a new saloon?”

“You may be right, Doctor.” Pearl gave him a quick hug.

“Leave your address with the nurse. I'll want to check on him daily for a week.”

“That suits me.”

As Lee watched Pearl leave with her father, he thought how none of them could have prepared for this ordeal.

In the face of this tragic fire, he had responded the same way he had to President Lincoln's calling up of troops in 1860. On a street corner downtown, he'd told a police captain that he was a veteran army surgeon, new to Chicago. He'd, in effect, enlisted in this battle, the best way he could.

He'd been dispatched to this church with two other doctors to set up a temporary shelter for the injured. When he'd revealed his experience in field medicine, the other doctors had unanimously promoted him to director.

Though uneasy, he'd surprised himself by falling into remembered duties and procedures. The past two fiery days and nights had been a round of cleansing and bandaging burns and cuts, setting broken limbs, and delivering a baby. He'd searched the face of each refugee, hoping to see Jessie, Linc, Susan. But in vain. Now the awful terror of not knowing, of facing a future without Jessie and Linc, overwhelmed him.

Never to see Jessie again, in her crisp white apron in command of her kitchen. Or late in the afternoon when tendrils of her hair escaped from her tight bun and formed a light brown halo of curls around her face. The thought of losing her forever slid through him like honed steel, left him reeling. He slumped onto a chair at the back of the church. Yearning for Jessie and Linc swirled through his heart.
I can't live without them. God, Will was right. I can't survive this on my own.
Tears gathered in Lee's smoke-raw throat.

He recalled Will's face by campfire light on battlefield after battlefield. Will's low comforting voice came to him, “You must humble yourself. Every man must let God be God. We are not able to understand why God allows death. Such matters are too great for us to know.”

“I know that now, Will,” Lee whispered and slid to his knees.
God, I'm on my knees at last. I have resisted You all my adult years. Now I see Your hand in my life.

You fed my ambition to be a doctor and gave me the strength to defy my family. You led me into the war I hated. But some men lived because Will and I were there.

Now because of my war service, I was able to help people again.

Lee looked up.
I lost myself, but now You've let me taste life with Linc and Jessie. I can't face life without them. I can't believe You would take them from me now, just when I know what I really want in life. I don't deserve them. But have mercy on me—a sinner.
He stifled a wrenching sob.

The cinched-in feeling, which had gripped him more tightly over the last few days, but which had been with him since Will died, began to loosen. He took a free breath, testing the new feeling of freedom. He stood up.

“I thank You, God,” he whispered. “I don't know if Jessie and Linc will be restored to me, but I know we're in Your hands. Henceforth, I want to be the best man, the best doctor You can help me to be.”

“Smith!”

Lee looked up and exclaimed, “Huff, praise God! You're safe!” He took Hiram's hand and gripped it.

The fire captain's uniform was torn, burned, smudged with soot. Huff's blackened face was covered with blistered burns. “Smith, is it really you?” Huff's voice sounded gritty from a smoke-burned throat.

“Yes, it's a long story, but I'm really Dr., not Mr., Smith. Let me treat those burns on your face and hands.”

Huff pulled back. “Have you seen Esther?”

“No, do you have any news about Jessie's neighborhood?”

“Burned to the ground. Even the chimneys were turned to ash.”

These words slammed into Lee's gut.

“That devil wind swept the fire ahead of us. We couldn't keep up. We couldn't stop it!” Pain contorting his face, Huff looked near to breaking down.

“Let's get you some coffee and a sandwich.”

“I've got to find her.” Hiram shook with emotion.

“You will.” Lee put his hand on Hiram's shoulder. “Coffee and food will help you keep going.”

“It's all my fault. If I hadn't argued with her, she would have been safe at home with the twins.” Huff coughed into a blackened handkerchief. “Our neighborhood wasn't touched. My fault. Mine.”

Lee led Hiram out to the tent where Lee forced him to sit down on a rickety chair and take a cup of strong coffee. Motioning to one of the woman volunteers, Lee murmured to her, “Make sure he eats something before you let him leave. He's near collapse.” She nodded.

An older, female volunteer approached him. “Dr. Smith, do you have a sister by the name of Eugenia?”

“Yes, is she here?”

“No, Mayor Mason has sent a call out to locate you for her.”

“How is my sister? How did she know where to find me?”

The white-haired woman smiled. “She's safe. And she told the mayor you'd be found as a volunteer doctor at one of the shelters.”

“She did?” Lee shook his head. Evidently Eugenia knew more about him than he did. “Please let her know I'm fine.”

The woman nodded. “And, Dr. Smith, more injured have been brought in.”

Hiram jolted to his feet, spilling his coffee. “Any women?”

“No, sorry. No women.”

The chair creaked as Hiram let himself drop back into it.

Lee squeezed Hiram's shoulder. “I'll be here for the duration. If you locate any of our loved ones, let me know?”

Hiram nodded, his red-rimmed eyes nearly shut. When he brought the tin coffee cup to his lips, his hand trembled.

Lee left to join the other two doctors where an area had been set aside for examining the wounded. Before he reached them, Butch bounded up to Lee, yipping, leaping knee-high.

“Butch, where's Linc?” Barking, the pup surged away. The dog led Lee to a small boy huddled among battered and blackened men.

“Lincoln!” Lee swung the boy up into his arms. He couldn't speak, hold back tears.
Thank You, Father.
“Linc, where's your mother?”

“I don't know.” Linc's voice vibrated with the force of his own tears. “I ran away. To find you.”

As Lee stroked Linc's hair, rocking him in his arms, he gently examined the boy's arms, legs, and ribs and found only bruises and a few cuts. Lee looked around.

Linc clutched him. “Don't leave me!”

“I won't.”

One doctor was swabbing the burns. The other, setting a dislocated shoulder, said, “We can handle these, Smith.”

“Thanks.” Lee turned to one of the nurses. “A weak solution of laudanum, please.” Within minutes, Lee was coaxing Linc to swallow the nasty-tasting medicine and settling him onto a blanket. While waiting for the sedative to work, Lee asked, “Linc, how did you get so bumped and bruised?”

“Everybody was running. I was on the bridge…” His small voice started to quaver with more tears.

“Son, it's all over. There's nothing to worry about anymore.”

“But, my mother—”

“It's late. We'll find her together in the morning. I'll stay until you fall asleep. Don't worry.”

Linc rolled onto his side. “You won't let them take Butch away?”

“No, of course, not.”

“I ran away from the other place they took me to. They wanted to take Butch—”

“Don't worry. He'll stay right here with you.”

The boy, sighing, closed his eyes and fell asleep. Butch settled down on the floor beside his master, panting happily.

Soon Lee was engrossed in setting the wrist of a policeman. After that, nearly a complete company of firemen came in, led by the hand like blind men. It took the doctors over an hour to bathe their swollen, red, smoke-burned eyes and treat all their burns, contusions, and lacerations.

Lee tied the last bandage on the final firefighter needing treatment. “It's a wonder you men were able to walk here at all.”

“We'd still be out there if it wasn't for Milwaukee sending practically their whole fire department by rail on Monday.”

“They've been as dry as us. Hope Milwaukee gets rain, so they don't burn,” another added.

Lee marveled at these men who'd fought the fire Sunday night through Tuesday afternoon.

One of the volunteers came to lead the smoked-blinded firemen away to a hot meal. They each put a hand on the shoulder of the man in front of him, then walked single file down the main aisle.

At the back of the church again, Lee stood over Linc, content just to watch him sleep. Butch had jumped up on the cot to lie with the boy. Scratching the loyal dog behind his ears, Lee gazed at the child he thought he had lost.

Thoughts of Jessie intruded. He prayed until a nurse bullied him into sitting down. Settling himself onto the creaky chair, he watched the gentle rise and fall of Linc's chest in slumber. His head drooped.

 

Startled, Lee awoke to see Jessie stride into the candle-lit room. Butch yipped nearby. Lee leaped out of the chair and rushed to her. “Jess!” At first, all he could do was hold her—feel the softness of her body against his, knowing she was real, not imagined. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting his cheek glory in the feel of her soft hair against his face.

Finally he looked down into her face. “Jess.”

“Lee.” Rising onto her toes, she gave him a tender kiss. Then she rested her hands on his arms and studied him as though memorizing him.

His words came out husky with emotion. “I was so worried.”

She sighed wearily. “It has been the longest two days of my life.” She ran her hands over his arms again, as though making certain he was real. “I feared I'd lost you.”

Butch gave another yip from where he guarded Linc.

Jessie glanced at the pup. “Linc's here?”

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