Sarah My Beloved (Little Hickman Creek Series #2) (30 page)

"Oh, dear God!" Rocky cried, the impact of the moment
finally recording itself in his brain. Without a word, he sped
off toward the blaze, leaving Sarah in a cloud of dust and her
mind drenched in terror.

When she rounded the corner of the house, several yards
behind her husband, she lost sight of him. Flames shooting
upward from the back and one side of the barn had folks scurrying in numerous directions, some herding small children
away from the flames, others still exiting through the wide
double doors.

Sarah hoisted her skirts and darted about the yard in
frantic search for Seth and Rachel, snatching looks in every
direction, her heart in an uproar. "Lord Jesus," she panted,
"please show me where they are."

A bucket brigade formed in the yard, starting at the
well where Rocky kept a number of pails stacked for such an
emergency. Once folks got their bearings, they fell into line,
women and older children alongside the men, taking their
turns at passing pails full of water.

"Is everyone accounted for?" someone asked above the
ruckus.

"As far as we know," one man shouted. "I purposely came
out last after I had a good look around."

"Faster!" a big fellow toward the front of the line ordered.
"Flames are shootin' higher!"

Rocky stood at the front, heaving pail after pail of water
into the gigantic inferno. Soon Ben Broughton came alongside him, and the bucket brigade moved even faster, as several
more people formed a second line.

Sarah discovered Seth not far from the house, his small
body hugging tight to the trunk of a young tree, his pallid face
awash with fear as he watched the growing blaze devour the
old barn.

"Seth!" she screamed, racing toward him, relief flooding
her veins.

When Seth heard her, he dropped his hands and met her
running. "I'm scared!" he cried, leaping into her open arms.

"Oh, Seth, don't be afraid. The important thing is that
you're safe. Now, tell me where your sister is."

He pulled away from her. "Huh?"

Sarah quickly knelt down to hold the boy at arm's length.
"Where is Rachel?"

He shook his head slowly. "I dunno. Us kids was playin'
hide-and-seek. I was hidin' over there," he said, pointing to a
shrub beside the porch steps. "But I don't know where Rachel
went."

Sarah jumped to her feet. "Whatever you do, Seth, do not
move from this spot. I don't want to have to go looking for you.
Do you understand?"

He gave a slow nod. "Are you gonna go find Rachel?"

She forced a reassuring smile. "I'll bet she's with Lill
Broughton. As soon as I find her we'll come back for you."

"Hurry," he said, making a sniffling sound. The last thing
Sarah saw before she took off on a run was tears sliding down
the lad's pale face.

The flames climbed higher, hissing, coiling, snapping,
their fiery fangs swallowing up the walls of the barn like one hundred venomous snakes. Even with heaving the water as far
above the ground as Ben and Rocky's strength would allow, it
seemed a losing battle. The flames fairly consumed the ancient,
dry wood. Rocky's heart fell at the sight. This barn had been
standing long before he and Hester had bought the place.

Everything he owned was in that barn-saddles, tools,
building supplies, and so much more. He felt his shoulders
plummet with the knowledge that they couldn't possibly work
fast enough to squelch the fire.

"Come on, Rock, you can't give up now," cried Ben above
the sounds of the roaring blaze, his husky voice indicating a
parched throat. He hurled another bucket of water into the
raging fire, then looked at Rocky. "Pitch it!" he ordered, looking down at the full bucket of water Rocky held in his hands.

"It's no use," Rocky said, dumping the water onto the
ground. "It's out of control. Look at it." Flames chewed through
the huge two-story structure, licking up the walls, roaring like
a hungry lion, the intense heat becoming nearly unbearable.

Ben grew silent as he watched his friend. He raised a hand
at the folks in line to indicate they should stop.

"Rocky! Rocky, I can't find Rachel," Sarah screamed, running up to the front of the line and grabbing him by the collar.
Fear, stark and vivid, glittered in her eyes. "Lili says she saw
her run into the barn just before the fire broke out."

Rocky dropped the bucket and ran toward the flaming barn,
but when he reached the door, two hands yanked him back.
"Don't do it, Rocky," said Ben. "You'd be a fool to go in there."

Ben and Jon Atkins stood on either side of him, each clasping
an arm, faces sober. "He's right, my friend," Jon admonished.

"Let me go!" Rocky growled, wrenching free of their tight hold. "My niece is in there."

"If you're going in, at least put this on," said Eldredjohans-
son, hastily handing Rocky a wet blanket. "It'll help block out
the flames."

"I'm going with you," said Benjamin.

"Count me in as well," said Jon.

Rocky cast them both a wary glance. "I wish you wouldn't,
but there's no time to argue." Draping the sopping blanket
over his shoulders, he took an instant to look at several pairs
of worried eyes before sprinting off.

"Rocky!" screamed Sarah from somewhere behind him.
"You can't..."

Blotting out her next words, he bolted through the door
and felt a hellish surge of heat. "God, help me find her," he
begged. "Please, Lord."

Hunching over to avoid the worst of the blinding smoke,
Rocky carefully measured each step, making sure not to step
on burning embers that would quickly burn through his soles.
"Rachel!" he yelled at the top of his voice, his lungs filling
up with smoke, scorching his insides. "Rachel, where are you?
Answer me, Rachel!"

He halted, hoping for some sort of response, but getting
nothing in return save for the sizzling sounds of unrestrained
fire. "God, where do I look?"

Overwhelming heat sought to knock him over, endeavoring to drain him of his last ounce of strength like the devil
himself. Overhead, the now ruptured roof threatened to collapse as fireballs mounted toward the open sky, launching coils
of black smoke ever upward.

"Any sign of her?" called Ben.

Rocky whirled around just as Ben emerged from a cloud
of blackness, sheathed in a blanket. "Nothing yet. Why don't
you go back?" he urged. "No point in all of us dying. Where's
Jon?"

"The crowd convinced him to stay put. He's prayin'."

Rocky nodded before advancing a few more steps, frantic
in his search. "Rachel!" he yelled again, covering his mouth
with his gloved hand to keep from ingesting more smoke, pulling the sweltering wet blanket tighter around him, feeling the
burn of nearby flames eating at his flesh. The urge to wretch
was strong, but he continued into the firestorm, unwavering in
his quest, his eyes burning to the point of blindness. "Rachel!"
he repeated.

Barn beams groaned and creaked, a window exploded,
its glass shattering into a million pieces, one wall at the back
of the barn bowed and sagged. "Get out, Ben!" Rocky yelled.
"Get out now!"

"Not till we find her," Ben answered, the toe of his boot
hitting Rocky in the heel. "Rachel!" Ben hollered, his voice
rough and gravelly.

"Un-cle-Roc-ky," came a weak, frail voice.

"Did you hear that?" Rocky spun around, his heart squeezing in desperation.

"What?" Ben asked.

"I heard her. Rachel, where are you?" he called out, his
eyelids swollen and singed. "Say something, honey." Gripping
heat threatened to steal away the last of their oxygen if they
didn't move fast.

"I can't move-" came the faint response, followed by
whimpering.

Ben heard her that time. "Over here," he called, running
not ten feet before he spotted the little girl. "She's here."

Rocky dashed the few yards to reach them and dropped to
his knees. Trapped beneath a worktable that had toppled over,
Rachel lay on her back in a helpless heap, the flames inching
closer and closer, her cries growing weaker with each second's
passing.

"Time's running out," Ben muttered between coughing
spells. "Pull her out as soon as I lift this end."

Rocky stood at the ready. "I got her!" he yelled seconds
later, as Ben lifted the table high enough for Rocky to scoop
her out. Hauling her into his arms, he ignored her screams
of pain and took off at a run, fighting thick smoke and fallen
embers along the way.

The last thing Rocky remembered, as soon as he breathed
his first breath of clean air, was falling to the ground with
Rachel in his arms.

Sarah spent the night moving from one room to the other,
tending to her patients. Exhausted to the point of dropping,
she refused sleep for fear either Rocky or Rachel might need
her.

Although Seth slept soundly on his narrow cot, dog-tired
from the day's events, across the room in her bed his sister
wrestled with nightmares and pain. Besides several minor
burns, she suffered from bruising and a number of cuts and
scrapes. Remarkably, the fallen worktable hadn't broken any
bones, but Doc Randolph said she'd be sore for the next several
days. The good news was that because she'd lain on the barn floor the entire time, she'd escaped the worst of the smoke.
Unfortunately, that wasn't the case with Rocky.

Rocky lay sleeping but restless, his breathing jagged after
all the coughing spasms and bouts of gagging and spewing he'd
endured. Sarah had stayed dutifully at his side, helping him sit
up, cleaning up after him, administering small sips of water,
and fretting that he might not wake up, even though Doc had
said his sleeping was a natural response to the medicine he'd
administered. She took comfort in Doc's remark that considering how much smoke Rocky had inhaled, his lungs remained
strong. The same had been true of Ben Broughton who, from
what she'd heard, had suffered fewer burns than Rocky.

It amazed her yet how the men-Rocky, Ben, and Jonathan
Atkins-had linked together like brothers to save Rachel's life,
with no thought whatsoever for their own safety. Of course,
it'd taken several men to restrain Jon Atkins once Rocky had
disappeared inside the blazing barn, their argument that the
town might need a minister after the day's events driving home
a good point. Sarah shivered at the heavy connotation.

"Hester..." Rocky groaned from the bed she'd given up.

Sarah jumped up from the chair she'd taken a moment
to recline in and rushed to her husband's side. "Rocky?" she
whispered, taking a cool, wet cloth from a nearby pail to dab
at his blistered forehead.

"Hester?" he repeated, his voice croaky as a bullfrog.

Her heart constricted. The notion that he might never
recover from his first wife's death weighed heavy on her heart.
Would he always consider her, Sarah, a mere stand-in, someone
who'd conveniently come along to relieve him of his parental
duties? Worse, when he'd embraced her out behind the house earlier tonight and kissed her with fervor, had it been Hester
he'd imagined holding in his arms?

"Rocky, I'm here," she whispered, bending over him, smelling the stench of smoke that lingered in his hair and on his
skin. Between Jonathan Atkins, Mary Callahan, and Sarah,
they'd managed to remove most of Rocky's charred clothing,
draping nothing more than a clean sheet over his body once
they got him situated on the straw mattress. She worried that
the lumpy bed might lend to his discomfort, but Doc had said
the mattress should be the least of her worries. Now she wondered what he'd meant by that.

Rocky's swollen eyelids fluttered but remained shut as he
tossed about.

"Try not to move, Rocky," Sarah said, leaning in close,
hoping her words made sense to him.

"Stay here-Hester," he managed on a husky whisper.

"I-I will," she replied, uncertain if she'd been right to
encourage his fantasy.

She took his oversized hand in hers, discovered a fair-sized
blister she'd missed, and dabbed a bit of the strong-smelling
ointment on it that Doc had left behind. "Put this on his burns
every couple of hours," Doc had instructed before leaving for
the night. "It will cool the skin, make him more comfortable."
Then he'd headed for the door, leaving Sarah in a bit of a
dither. Even Mary couldn't stay; the fire upset Frank so much
that she'd worried about his heart. "I'll stop by in the morning," Mary had promised. "As will I," Doc tacked on.