River of Mercy (22 page)

He had no chance to finish. A scream exploded from upstairs. Fannie and Thunder came barreling down the steps, Fannie still screaming and the dog roaring a vicious barking that David had never heard from him.

He stumbled in his haste to reach the stairway while Gant clambered to follow. Susan met them at the bottom of the steps while the dog barked and circled at the front door like a wild thing.

Wide-eyed, her face pale with panic, Fannie tugged at David's arm. “Fire! Papa David—the barn's on fire!”

21

He who has a thousand friends
Has not a friend to spare,
And he who has one enemy
Shall meet him everywhere.

T
RANSLATED BY
R
ALPH
W. E
MERSON FROM A SAYING DATED
AD 660

A
t first, Gant saw nothing but an eddy of black smoke rolling over the treetops. It would have been scarcely noticeable if the night hadn't been so brightly studded with stars and a nearly full moon.

As soon as they cleared the dense grove of evergreens in back though, he saw the blaze that had already begun to light up the darkness. It was a good thing Fannie had been upstairs and able to see the flames in the distance.

The acrid smell of smoke was strong, and by the time they reached the crest of the yard, his eyes were burning, his throat stinging. The sounds coming from the barn were nightmarish, the horses screaming in terror, both cows bawling. Gant's blood thundered with the desperation to reach them before it was too late.

Fannie had shot out in front of them, running behind her dog, Thunder, but Susan called her back. At first the girl didn't seem to hear, but when Doc shouted out another warning, she stopped.

“The bell, Fannie!” Doc called out to her. “Go to the bell!”

Fannie's feet barely touched the ground as she turned and retreated to the house, the dog racing ahead of her. In seconds the clanging of the dinner bell in the backyard could be heard.

“Ach! Mein Gott in Himmel!”
Susan cried. “David, the horses—the cows!”

Gant heard the panic in Susan's voice and felt the same urgency pressing at his mind and driving his body. Not for the first time, he silently raged at his own weakness, the ruined leg that held him back and slowed his every step. He pushed himself as hard as he could, but there was no way a man with a cane could keep up with the others.

The moment David threw the barn door open, he saw the angry flames breaking the shadows on the back wall and heard the hiss and pop of fire traveling among the hay bales. Thick, black fingers of smoke coiled upward, heading for the roof.

Stunned by the sight of the spreading blaze, he gasped but forced himself to move. He ran toward Cecil's stall first and yanked the door open. The big Percheron draft horse Amos Kanagy had valued so highly hesitated at first, but when David gave him a light slap on the flank he took off for the open door.

David glanced over to see Susan leading the elderly Rosie out of her stall, so he went to free Smoke. The feisty young buggy horse's eyes were wild. The moment David threw open the door of his stall, he whinnied and galloped out of the barn.

Gant was there by then, and David went to help him loose the cows from their posts and get both buggies outside. As they hurried from the barn, right behind Susan, they met Fannie, tears streaming down her face as she and Thunder ran toward them.

He caught her arm. “The animals are safe, Fannie. Go back to the bell. We need all the help we can get to keep the fire from spreading.”

He checked to make sure Susan and Gant were all right before helping them herd the animals to the small pasture north of the house. By the time they turned back, Rachel and some of the neighbors had arrived and were forming a double line with buckets in hand.

When Gant saw Malachi Esch manning the pump, he relieved the aging Amish man with the excuse of needing him to oversee the efforts of the others, making sure no one got too close to the blaze. The pump, at least, was one thing he could handle. His leg might be a problem, but his arms were strong.

Only then did he see Rachel as she moved up to him and held out her bucket to be filled. He plied the pump, watching her at the same time. Her face was pale in the eerie light cast by the fire, but her mouth was set in the familiar, determined line he had come to recognize. The inferno before them had to strike fear and anguish in her, but she wouldn't fall apart. Not Rachel. At least not until she had done all she could do to help her family.

“You be careful, Rachel,” he said, his voice low.

“The Amish know about putting out fires,” she bit out. Her words were clipped, her voice hard, but there were tears in her eyes as she spoke. “I saw the animals. They're all right?”

“Aye. They're all safe.”

“And Fannie—she's at the bell?”

“She is. Your sister has a pretty cool head, young as she is.” He glanced in the direction of the house. “Doc told her to keep ringing it for now.”

She looked at him. “I'm glad you're here, Jeremiah,” she murmured just before stepping away with her bucket.

Gant continued to pump after Rachel left, watching her as she hurried off. The heat was intense as the flames blazed higher, and Gant struggled for air, feeling as if his lungs might explode from the weight of the heavy smoke.

Neighbors kept coming, some arriving by themselves, others with their families. Everyone seemed to know what to do and went right to work, wasting no time before joining the lines.

Rachel was right—the Amish knew all too well about putting out fires. The lines worked almost automatically as if driven by an unseen motor.

A sudden movement just across the road caught Gant's eye. A flash of white and something dark. A man slipping out from among the trees. Gant couldn't be sure, but he thought someone was watching the fire from the other side of the road.

Watching?
Who would stand watching instead of joining the others to help put it out?

But sure enough, someone was simply standing there, taking in the scene. Gant rubbed his burning and grainy eyes with the knuckles of his free hand, but the figure was too well concealed by the trees.

Suddenly, as if he'd noticed Gant's gaze on him, the other began to move.

Gant glanced around, looking for someone to take his place at the pump. Toward the end of the line, he saw Gideon and caught his eye, motioning him forward.

Gant didn't take time to explain but just turned the pump over to him, grabbed his cane, and started down the path toward the road as fast as he could move. Just as he'd feared, though, by the time he was about to cross, the watcher had disappeared. He continued to the other side, but there was no one to be found.

The workers managed to extinguish the fire in little over an hour, but the barn was totally destroyed. Most of the neighbors who remained followed the family indoors for a few minutes. The night air carried the smell and taste of smoke inside. In fact, Gant thought he would be tasting the caustic bite of smoke for days.

Some of the women had made fresh coffee and tea, and Susan rushed around the kitchen to set out cream and sugar along with plenty of fresh-baked cookies. There was little in the way of conversation. The ordeal they'd just been through had left everyone exhausted and solemn.

Before anyone began leaving for home, Susan again thanked them for their help. “We're so grateful to all of you and to the Lord God for all He's done this night, for sparing our animals and for sending such
gut
friends to help put the fire out.”

“We'll be over Saturday to raise a new barn,” Malachi Esch said. “Can you get us enough lumber that soon?” he asked Gant.