A Widow's Hope (35 page)

Hannah hurried to the side window. It wasn’t a predator that had spooked her sheep but something far more ominous. An eerie yellow–orange light glowed in the open hay window of the barn, while a plume of white smoke curled against the dark sky.

Fire! The shock of seeing a farmer’s worst fear gripped her gut and paralyzed her. Then every muscle, bone, and sinew reacted at once. Throwing on her robe, she ran from her room and pounded on Julia and Simon’s door and those of the children in succession. “Fire!” she shouted. “Get up! The barn’s ablaze!”

Once Emma, Leah, Henry, and Matthew joined their parents in the hallway, Hannah fled down the steps into the kitchen. Shouts,
cries, and questions rang from all directions as the family followed her downstairs. Hannah had no answers.

With the six Millers close behind, Hannah ran onto the porch and began frantically ringing the farm bell. She spotted Henry on the steps staring at the barn as flames leaped from the loft window toward the roof. “Here, Henry,” she shouted. “Keep pulling the rope. Those who hear the bell will come to help. I’m going to help your pa.” Hannah yanked on Adam’s old muck boots over her bare feet and hurried toward the largest of Simon’s barns.

Smoke began to billow from the doorway as Hannah reached the others. Simon dipped a towel into the water trough and wrapped it around Matthew’s mouth and neck and then did the same for himself. “Stay behind me, Matthew, at all times,” he ordered as he called over his shoulder. “Do not follow me, Julia!”

“Let me help,” Emma called.

“Fill the buckets and drag over the garden hose, Emma,” Simon shouted. “Julia, get the gas–powered pump from the under the porch.” Then he disappeared into a smoke–filled barn with Matthew right behind him.

Hannah saw no flames on the first level but the smoke made her cough even twenty feet away. While Julia and Emma hurried to fulfill their tasks, Hannah entered the barn and tried to stay as low as possible. She made it as far as the hog pen in the blinding smoke and managed to get the sow and piglets out and headed in the right direction. As soon as the pigs crossed the threshold into the barnyard, four draft horses thundered past her and scattered into the dark night. Hannah had only enough time to jump out of the way. Then Matthew appeared through the smoke, pulling two spring colts by their halters. He let go of the ropes and slapped the horses’ rumps once through the doorway. Simon followed close behind, leading his skittish gelding and Julia’s frantic mare. Hannah ran forward to help calm Julia’s horse.

“Go outside, Hannah,” Simon shouted. “Help Julia hook the pump up to the hose. Wet down the roofs of the other buildings so
the fire doesn’t spread.” The two horses held by their leads didn’t like pausing inside a burning building. One snorted then lunged against the rope while the other reared up on his hind legs. Simon dodged the horse’s hooves by inches. “Please, Hannah, go! These are the last of the animals.”

“What about the cows?” she cried, already moving toward the door.

“They’re still in the pasture. Everything’s out.” He pulled hard on the gelding’s halter as soon as its hind hooves hit the barn floor, and man and beast followed Hannah out into freedom and fresh air.

Simon released his grip once they were out, but slapped the horses’ backsides to keep them from running back into the burning barn. Then he doubled over in a fit of coughing. Hannah also gasped for air as Mr. Lehman hurried toward them.

“Simon, are all the animals out? Are you all right, Mrs. Brown?” asked Mr. Lehman. He grabbed Hannah’s elbow as tears streamed from her stinging eyes.

Simon nodded his head, unable to speak.

“
Jah,
I’m fine,” Hannah said hoarsely.

Simon supported her other arm, and the three moved back from the unbearable heat. People were arriving by foot, horseback, buggy, and car. At least twenty Amish and English neighbors came to fight the fire in whatever clothes they could pull on in the middle of the night. Black smoke poured from the doorway and hay window. Flames leaped skyward as sections of roof fell in, opening the barn to the heavens. The influx of fresh air fanned the blaze into an inferno. Everyone had to stagger back from the intense heat. The yellow glow against the black sky could be seen for miles.

Simon and Hannah lost little time watching the spectacle, how-ever. “
Danki
for your help with the animals, Hannah,” he said, regaining his raspy voice. “I’m going to help Julia bring over the pump to get water from the pond.”

“I’ll stretch out the hose and drop one end into the pond,” Hannah said as she sucked air into her parched lungs.

“I’ll get a bucket brigade going to wet down the henhouse and milking parlor, and then I’ll aim the hose on the barn’s foundation to try to save it,” Mr. Lehman called. The three ran off in different directions.

Seth soon arrived with his own gasoline pump and garden hose, and within minutes aimed a steady stream of water on the house and porch roof. The wind carrying sparks and embers could easily spread the blaze to the Miller home.

Mrs. Lee had spotted the orange glow from her bedroom window and called the Winesburg Fire Department. Two trucks arrived within twenty minutes, but by then the barn could not be saved. With one fire department hose trained on the barn to contain the fire and two others on the outbuildings, Mr. Lehman moved his garden hose around to wet down the fencing, vegetable plot, and woodpile. Other folks had their hands full in the pasture stomping out brush fires from burning debris carried on the breeze.

Hannah and Julia joined this group, working side by side with Matthew and Emma. Julia didn’t let her
kinner
out of sight. Leah and Henry were ordered to fill jugs of drinking water from the kitchen sink for the firefighters and not leave the porch area. With fire equipment, men, horses, buggies, and cars moving around in the smoke, it wasn’t safe for small children to be afoot.

For several hours family, friends, neighbors, and dedicated fire-fighters fought the blaze and kept it from destroying the house, milking parlor, henhouse, and other outbuildings. The pasture and most of the fencing were also saved, as were the rolling fields of ripe hay and corn.

Weary beyond belief, the Millers stood in their ash–covered barn-yard and uttered silent prayers of thanksgiving. As sorrowful as it was to lose a hundred–and–fifty–year–old barn, it could have been so much worse.

T
he awful, acrid smell hung heavy in the air the next morning. Simon rose to milk the cows and make sure all animals had adequate food and water before returning to bed for a couple more hours of sleep. He had been up until almost dawn putting out the last of the sparks and embers. The horses were in a fenced pasture as far away from the smoldering shell of a barn as they could get. The sow and piglets now resided in a shed off the milk house. The chickens weren’t happy about the amount of ash that had fallen into their scratching area but seemed no worse for the ordeal. The cows had remained out in the pasture on the balmy night and didn’t seem to notice their winter home had been reduced to a pile of blackened timbers. They chewed the grass with their usual enthusiasm.

The fire department stayed for several hours to make sure nothing ignited from sparks blown by the wind. Before leaving, they soaked a portion of pasture and field downwind of the fire. The exhausted neighbors returned home, mentioning before they left how lucky Simon was not to lose a single animal.

How merciful was the Lord. Simon knew he had been spared, thanks to God…and Hannah’s sheep! If their mournful bleating hadn’t raised the alarm and awoken Hannah, the fire could easily have spread out of control. He surely would have lost his horses and
pigs, and probably a lot more too. He would never call sheep smelly bags of wool again.

Simon looked over the farm that had been handed down to him through four generations of Millers and uttered a prayer of gratitude. Soot and ash would wash away with the next heavy rain. Scorched, trampled grass and flowerbeds would regrow. A barn could be rebuilt. But he might have lost those precious things in life that could never be replaced.

Tears ran down Simon’s face as he considered not what was gone, but what still remained. And his tears had nothing to do with the smoke still thick in the humid morning air.

When he walked back indoors, he was startled to find his wife at the sink, starting a pot of coffee. “What are you doing up, Julia? I’m sure you didn’t get but three hours of sleep. Go back upstairs.”

She raised one brow. “I can’t sleep any better than you, husband. Women aren’t born with the ability to sleep through calamities any more than men.”

He nodded. “I suppose that’s true, but rest your mind. The fire is pretty much out in the rubble.”

Julia poured cups of coffee and set bread and jam on the table. “I believe we’ll have the bread untoasted today.”

Despite his strain and fatigue, Simon laughed, furrowing his forehead. “It’ll be a long time before I can toast marshmallows with Leah or attend someone’s pig roast.”

Julia sipped her coffee. “Did the firemen have any ideas how the fire started?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“No. They smelled no accelerant around the barnyard, so they don’t think it was arson. It was fairly clear last night—not much chance of a lightning strike. And it certainly wasn’t electrical,” he added wryly. “So that leaves only spontaneous combustion of a damp hay bale or a careless smoker discarding his cigarette butt.”

Julia pondered the possibilities and nodded in agreement.

“I told the fire chief my hay is still in the field,” Simon added. “Since
I haven’t stored any in the loft yet, that leaves us with the latter likeli-hood. After yesterday’s preaching service, men and boys were milling in and around the barn throughout the day and early evening.”

Silence spun out for a few moments.

“We’ll probably never know,” Julia said.

“A fire investigator will be out this afternoon, but you’re right… we’ll probably never know for sure. And that might not be so bad. It would be hard to look a young man in the eye knowing he burned down your barn.”

Julia looked surprised by his admission.

“Hard,” he added, patting her hand, “but not impossible.” He took one slice of bread. More food than that he had no appetite for. “Where is Hannah? Is she still asleep? She worked very hard last night. I have much to say to her. I owe her sheep a debt of gratitude.”

Julia’s expression turned incredulous. “Simon, are you suffering from smoke inhalation?”

“No,
fraa,
I have all my faculties this morning. That’s why I need to make amends before I slip back into my old habits.”

“I heard her stirring about early, before I came downstairs. Apparently none of the adults could sleep in today. I believe she’s gone to check her flock to make sure no sheep got lost during the commotion.”

Simon pulled on his long beard, which seemed a tad whiter since last night. “I can find her there then,” he said, rising to leave.

“Wait, Simon. Hannah told me she’s made up her mind about something.” Julia paused and met his eye. “She’s moving back to Pennsylvania to live with Thomas until his marriage, and then maybe she’ll move home with our folks.” Julia’s voice held no censure, only a simple statement of facts.

“
Danki
for letting me know. I’ll talk to her about that and plenty of other things.”

Julia sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “Long overdue, on both of your parts.”

“Long overdue,” he repeated after the screen door slammed behind him.

Ash and soot covered the pasture as Simon hiked uphill toward the high point where Hannah’s flock grazed. Hannah was sitting on a rock outcropping with an open book on her lap. Sheep milled and frolicked all around her, while several lambs lay in the grass by her feet.

She closed the book when he approached and offered a shy smile. Dimples deepened in her cheeks. “Hullo, Simon,” she said.

“
Guder mariye,
” he answered, taking off his hat. “Mind if I pull up a rock?” He lowered himself onto a nearby boulder.

She looked as surprised as Julia had, either by his arrival or at his attempt at humor. “Of course not,” she said.

He reached down and tried to pet a lamb, but it quickly scampered off. The hovering ewe showed her displeasure with a loud
baaa.
“These sheep of yours saved the other farm animals. Their ruckus woke you and me up in enough time to get the livestock out. The fire could’ve gotten out of hand if not for their bleating. Thank you. I am in your debt—and the sheep’s.”

Hannah focused on the animals wandering away from the intrusion of a stranger and then back at him. “On behalf of my sheep, you’re welcome. They were glad to help.”

“I also came out to apologize. I’ve not given you much chance to explain things since you’ve been here. I’ve jumped to a lot of conclusions. Julia told me you’ve been buying her arthritis medicine. I don’t want you spending your sale proceeds on us. Not that I don’t appreciate it, but you might want to buy another farm someday, and they don’t come cheap.”

Hannah was studying him intently. “Simon, I don’t plan to buy another house, so I have no better use for my money. I decided to move back to Pennsylvania. Not immediately, of course. I want to help with the barn rebuilding, but as soon thereafter as I can arrange. I just haven’t figured out what to do with my flock.”