September 14, 1916
In all the years she’d been coming to the fair, Ella had never really taken the time to experience it. The newly installed electric lights shone down on the brightly colored stalls and displays. There was so much to see and do, it was almost overwhelming. That and the fact that she was on the arm of Maxwell Sinclair, the man she’d loved, and lost, and seemed she might be able to love again, was quite an assault on her senses.
They bought their dinner—hot dogs and pink lemonade—from one of the many vendors calling out to everyone who passed. They strolled through horticultural displays, listened to a band playing in the pavilion, and visited the midway, where Max attempted, and failed, to win a prize for her. It was a wonderful evening, and it was over entirely too fast.
“I suppose it’s time to take you back now,” Max said as the clock tower chimed for the eighth time.
Ella sighed. “We both have to be up early, so, yes.”
As they walked the dirt roads through the livestock area, Max took her hand. Happily, Ella intertwined her fingers with his.
They hadn’t talked about their respective businesses at all, but now that their date was almost over, Ella wanted to bring something up.
“I talked to my father yesterday about the dairy.”
“Really?” Max sounded surprised. “You brought it up?”
“No, he did. He said he talked to someone, and it got him thinking about the future, about competition, whether or not he wanted to keep the dairy at all.”
Max didn’t respond right away. “Did he say who he talked to?”
“One of the other farmers. Mr. Jepson, I think.”
“Oh. All right.” He sounded relieved.
Ella looked sideways at him. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Not at all.”
They came around a bend in the road, and Ella gasped. She could see the Daniels buildings and corrals. The icehouse was glowing, and smoke billowed out under the doors.
It was on fire.
Ella dropped his hand and ran. Max began calling out to anyone who might be around to hear him.
“Fire at the Daniels Dairy! Get the fire crew! Hurry!”
Ella had almost gotten to the icehouse when Max grabbed her arm and jerked her to a stop.
“Let go! I have to do something.”
Max’s face was grim. “What do you think you can do? The two of us can’t stop it. We need the fire crew.”
Panic rose, almost strangling her. She looked around wildly. “My father. Where is he?” She ran to the supply building, but he wasn’t there. Whirling, she ran back toward the burning building. “He might be in there.”
Max stopped her again. “He’s not. Didn’t you tell me he spends evenings visiting with the other farmers? I’m sure that’s where he is.”
His words sounded positive, but the look on Max’s face said something else. It said what Ella was thinking but didn’t dare say: If he is in there, it’s too late.
The pounding of running feet sounded behind them as a group of men filled the yard. Relief flooded Ella as she saw the man leading them was her father.
“Papa!” She threw her arms around him, hugging so hard he had to pry her hands loose.
“I’m fine, darlin’. Now let me get to work.” Max moved to join him, but Walter shook his head and pointed at Ella. “You stay with her.” Max didn’t attempt to argue.
Within moments, the men had formed a bucket brigade and were scooping water from the trough and throwing it on one side of the building. A moment later, the clang of the fire wagon bell sounded. The yard was a flurry of activity, but Ella wasn’t watching it. Now that she knew her father wasn’t in danger, she could think of what was really happening.
Even before the men and fire crew started dousing the building, water had been seeping out under the doors and around the foundation. Mixed into the water was a pale yellow substance. She stared at it, unable to tear her eyes away, even when Max tried to hug her to him.
Melted ice. Melted butter.
Her sculpture was gone.
The fire was out. The remnants of the icehouse were a soggy black mess. The doors had fallen off when the wood around the hinges became unstable. Like a great gaping mouth, the doorway left the inside on display for anyone who wanted to take a look. But no one did.
When Ella finally allowed herself to cry, she couldn’t stop. Max held her, whispering soothing words in her ear as she sobbed into his shirt.
“I’ll take her now.” Walter put his arm around Ella and maneuvered her away from Max and into his own arms. He squeezed Max on the shoulder. “Thank you.”
The attention of her father seemed to help. The crying subsided, becoming sniffles and the occasional gasping breath.
Walter looked at the icehouse. “I don’t understand how this happened. There was nothing in there that would start a fire.”
Max considered it. “Could it have been a short in the electric light?”
“No.” Ella shook her head. “I turned the light off when I left. And I locked the door.”
“She’s right,” Walter agreed. “I double-checked it before I went to meet my friends.”
The answer was obvious, although Max had no intention of being the one to say it. The only way the fire could have started was if someone set it.
“Maybe this is a sign,” Walter said. “Maybe I should take you up on your offer.”
Ella pulled back from her father. “What? What offer?”
No, Max thought. Not now. Don’t bring it up now.
“Max brought me an offer from the Joy Company to buy the dairy.”
“When did he do that?”
“A few months ago. That day he came by. They think it would make a nice place for a processing plant. After tonight, I’m thinking they might be right.”
With snail-like slowness, Ella turned her head toward Max. Her mouth was set in a grim line, her eyes narrow. “You.”
The one syllable hit him like an arrow finding its target. “No. I didn’t do this.” She just stared at him, until he had to say something else. “You know it couldn’t have been me. We were together when it happened.”
“That doesn’t mean you didn’t get someone else to do it.” A groan escaped her lips, and she put her face in her hands.
“What’s wrong?” Walter looked back and forth between them. “What are you trying to say?”
Ella put her hands down. “It was all a lie. Everything you said to me, the encouragement, that you still loved me. You made me trust you, and then you took me out tonight so we wouldn’t think you did this.”
Walter glared at him. “Is this true?”
“Of course not.” Max felt helpless.
“You want my father to sell the dairy. Then you told me I should leave the dairy.” Ella looked away. “You’d do anything to get what you want.”
“I would never hurt you,” Max said. “Either of you.”
“You hurt me once before. Why should now be any different?” Ella looked up at her father. “Can we go, please?”
“Of course.”
As they started to leave, Walter stopped and addressed Max. “Don’t come around us anymore.”
Father and daughter walked away, leaving Max alone in the smoldering remnants of what might have been.