A Noble Groom (Michigan Brides #2)(93)
“I need to borrow a horse!” He didn’t have time to gawk with the others, even if it was true that the wild creatures were fascinating.
A rattling wagon, pulled by a frothing, frantic-eyed horse, came careening down the country road toward town. “Run for it!” screamed the man driving the wagon. “Fire’s a-comin’!”
Carl peered beyond the man to the west, searching for flames. Amidst the hazy grayness of the sky, he couldn’t see anything different from earlier in the day.
“Make a run for the lake!” the wagon driver shouted, glancing over his shoulder. “All the land in the western part of the county is on fire!”
The townspeople outside the store began to shout questions at him. More people trickled out of the businesses that lined the street.
“The fire’s coming in a storm!” The man brought his wagon to a creaking halt. “It’s uprooting trees, blowing down buildings, and throwing fireballs.”
His face was smudged with smoke and sweat, and his hat was coated with a layer of gray ash. In the back of his wagon sat two young children, huddled on either side of a woman who was grimy with ash and sweat too. Their eyes were wide, their faces frightened and dirty.
“How far away is the fire?” someone called.
“Is it headed this way?”
Even as the man tried to answer them, a gust of wind slapped Carl and rained down soft white flakes like the first dusting of snow in winter—except the flakes weren’t cold or wet.
They were hot and dry.
Carl’s blood turned to ice.
Ashes.
Someone pointed to the west and shouted. A black cloud had formed on the horizon. For a moment, Carl wanted to believe it was only a thundercloud, one of the towering ones that would finally bring a downpour and put an end to the drought.
But the fear on the face of the wagon driver told him he’d be a fool to think that anything other than a holocaust was descending upon them.
Desperation clawed at his chest. He needed to get to Annalisa and the girls. Now. The thought of anything happening to them—either from Ward or the fire—made him sick to his stomach.
“Lord, why did I ever leave them in the first place?” Why? What had ever possessed him to think he could live without them?
Even if she hated him, couldn’t he find a way to win her affection again? He couldn’t leave without at least trying, could he?
He sprinted forward, weaving in and out of the growing crowd. He couldn’t run the four miles to Annalisa’s. There wasn’t enough time. He wasn’t sure if he’d have enough time even with a horse.
But he had to try.
“Frau Loehe!” He waved at the pastor’s wife in her wagon, bumping along the road at the edge of town, and ran toward her.
She yanked her team to a halt. “Oh, dearie . . .” Beneath her wide-brimmed hat, her eyes pooled with tears.
He knew he should ask her what was wrong and console her, but he couldn’t contain his panic. “I need one of your horses.” Without waiting for her permission, he started unhitching the horse closest to him.
“I’m hearing reports about fire in Minden Township.” She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “My dear husband went visiting parishioners there today.”
The sky overhead had grown hazier, covering the hot sun with a gauzy blanket. And yet, even with the shade, the air had become thicker with heat and the waft of smoke.
“I’m sure Pastor will take good care of himself. He’s a smart man.” Carl’s sweat-slickened fingers stumbled over the chain. “In the meantime, he’d want you to head down to the lake with the others. You’ll be safe there.”
She peered down Main Street, which had become crowded with animals, people, and the possessions they hoped to save from the oncoming fire. Their frightened shouts filled the air.
The old-timers still talked of the fire ten years earlier in 1871 that had swept through the area and had burned Forestville to the ground. He didn’t doubt many of them were remembering the inferno, how they’d had to wait it out in the lake and watch as their homes and businesses were consumed by the fire.
They wouldn’t have the same devastation again, would they?
Carl pulled the horse free of the wagon.
“I’m glad you’re going to help Annalisa.” Frau Loehe wiped a stray tear from her fleshy cheek.
He didn’t wait to find out how she’d guessed he was on his way to Annalisa’s.
“I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed to see you, dearie.”
He climbed up on the horse. He didn’t have time to contradict Frau Loehe and remind her of how much Annalisa despised him for his deception.
“You take care of yourself,” she said.
“Pray.” He settled himself on the horse’s bare back and then dug in his heels. “Pray like you’ve never prayed before.”
Chapter
20
Two deer crashed through the thicket.
Annalisa jumped away from the tree, letting the small wormy apple fall from her grip.
The deer leapt over logs and kicked their legs, almost flying through the air. They bounded away without even seeming to notice her or the girls.
Gretchen gasped and some of the apples spilled out of her apron. The little girl had turned up the edges of her apron, forming a basket. She’d filled it with the bruised, rotting apples that littered the ground, following Annalisa’s instructions not to leave behind anything. They would use every apple in some way. They would dry some and press the inedible ones into cider. She would even use the cores for making vinegar.