The storm was worse than Mark had guessed. He pushed everyone back inside, trying to ignore the terror on the kids’ faces. Yanking open the cellar door, he pulled out a length of clothesline. He’d bought it months ago, but had been too busy working in the fields to install a clothesline.
Now he was glad he hadn’t. The dangers of staying in the house were greater than the storm.
“Grab hold,” he ordered the boys. “Wrap it around your arm so if you drop it when the wind hits you, you won’t lose it.” When the boys regarded him in confusion, he took one end, measured out two arms’ length, and then twisted the next section around his forearm. Kirsten held up her arm, and he did the same for her, far enough away from him so they could walk without tripping over each other. He stuffed the flashlight in his pocket, knowing they soon could be depending on it. To the others, he bellowed, “Hurry!”
A strange rumbling from overhead sent the boys into overdrive. They lashed the rope around themselves. Daryn stepped forward, grasped the rope in front of Mark and wrapped it around his waist, tying double knots. He glanced at the fierce storm and took a deep breath.
“Please pray that I can do this,” Daryn said.
“Close your eyes and lead us to safety.” Mark clapped his brother on the shoulder. “We’ll be right behind you, and God is with us. Don’t let go of the rope.” He repeated the last to the others.
Kirsten had the rope wrapped around her hurt arm, and her other arm locked through her cousin’s. Theo looked terrified, but his chin jutted with resolve. The Englisch boys at the end of the rope clung to each other, too. He hoped they’d work together and not slow them down as they went the fifty meters to the barn.
Daryn bent his head and took a single step into the storm. The snow swallowed him. Mark gulped hard. He’d known the blizzard was bad, but to see Daryn disappear... He gave a slight tug on the rope. He didn’t want to pull his brother off his feet, but needed to be sure Daryn was still there. The rope remained taut.
Following in Daryn’s footsteps, though the wind was blowing snow into the prints as soon as they were made, Mark wished he’d put on his scarf. His face was slashed by the icy crystals that flew past like bullets from a gun. The wind whistled against his ears, changing pitch each time he moved his head. Knowing it was a waste of time, he looked back. He saw the rope by his elbow and Kirsten’s fingers.
A gust struck him hard. He dropped to one knee. The rope burned his fingers and tightened on his arm as Daryn kept moving forward. As he scrambled to his feet, Kirsten stumbled against him. He swept his free arm around her waist. His instinct was to turn her so her face would be protected against his shoulder. Then she wouldn’t be able to walk in a straight line.
He sent up an urgent prayer. The same prayer he’d said when he realized Daryn’s accusation was true. Show me how to hand control over to You, God. Show me the way to relinquish my need to manage everything...and live the life You’ve chosen for me. The prayer came from the depths of his heart, cracking the prison he’d created for it when success convinced him that he had to be in charge. He was doing what Kirsten had urged him to do. Trust Daryn.
Wanting to ask Kirsten if she and Theo were okay, Mark kept his mouth closed. The roaring wind would steal his words, and he didn’t want the frigid air rushing down his throat.
Daryn halted, and Mark’s gut clenched. Were they lost? If they followed their steps back to the house... He glanced down. The snow was halfway up his shins. The footprints behind him had already disappeared.
“Don’t rush him,” Kirsten whispered near his ear. Maybe she shouted. He couldn’t tell with the screeching wind.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the rope in his hand grew taut again. Blinded by the storm, he tried to match Daryn’s steps and directions. Once he went too far to the left and had to edge back so he was behind his younger brother again.
Then the blizzard’s assault halted, and boards were beneath his feet. Mark kept slogging forward at the same pace, stepping around his brother who’d dropped to the floor, his head hanging and his breath ragged. He pulled the flashlight out of his pocket, turned it on and aimed it at the door.
As soon as he saw the last boy appear out of the storm, Mark sat on a nearby hay bale. He unwound the rope and let it fall to the floor.
“I’m sorry about stopping out there,” Daryn said as he gulped in air. “Breaking a path through the snow is hard work.”
“Ja.” He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You did a great job, Daryn. You got us here.”
His brother smiled as he hadn’t since he’d come to Prince Edward Island. Mark realized Kirsten had been right when she told him to focus on what Daryn did well.
At the thought of her, he watched as she hugged Theo. She looked over the boy’s head at him, and Mark chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Seeing you with white hair. Every part of you that was walking into the wind is white.”
“You, too.” She ran her fingers through his hair, shaking loose snow to fall onto his coat’s shoulders.
He caught her wrist and stood. Without a word, he pulled her to him. His lips ached to touch hers. Cold billowed off her wool coat. That didn’t matter because having her so close sent a wave of warmth through him. He curved his fingers along her face. Her eyes glowed as her lips parted.
“Look!” intruded a fearful shout from closer to the door.
Kirsten wanted to remain lost in the sweet fantasy of Mark’s kiss. Then she heard frantic voices shouting, “What’s going on?” and “Are you seeing this, too?”
Mark released her and ran toward the open door where the others had gathered. She looked out as he waved the flashlight side-to-side. All she could see was the blizzard. Then a slow, rumbling sound rolled toward them like the waves along the beach. A shadow moved.
The house.
It was moving.
How was that possible?
She never knew if she’d asked that question aloud because the rumble became the howl of a wounded beast as the shadow crumbled into itself and vanished. Swarming dust thrust itself through the blizzard.
Right toward the barn.
“Close the door!” she shouted.
Theo and Owen grabbed the door and slid it shut. Mark and the other Englisch boy rushed to hold it steady while Daryn locked it in place. They jumped as huge pieces of debris hit the wood. Dust swirled beneath the door and into the barn. Somewhere along the barn, glass splintered, and the shriek of the wind rose through the broken window.
“What happened?” whispered Theo.
“The house fell down.” Kirsten hardly believed her own words.
The kids looked up as one when rubble hit the roof.
She put her hand on Chance’s flank to calm him when he shifted. She unhitched the horse and led him into a stall next to where Mark’s horse was watching the invasion of his barn with indifference.
“It’ll be okay, boy,” she said as she closed the stable door. The words were automatic, but she wondered if they were true.
Mark’s home was gone. They were stuck in a barn in the middle of a blizzard that could go on for hours. How long would the flashlight last? They didn’t have food, and the only blankets were the two in her buggy. They were sweaty from the hard walk across the yard, but that wouldn’t last. If she turned on the buggy’s heater, how long before the battery was drained?
An explosion brought shouts of alarm from the boys. Orange light filled the barn, and a wave of heat washed over them.
She ran to where Mark was looking out a window. A fireball rose into the sky, searing her eyes with its brightness. The wind grasped it, and for an appalling moment, she thought the storm was going to blow the fire at the barn. Then the flames swirled and dropped into the rubble that once had been Mark’s house.
“Was that blast from the propane tanks?” she asked, aware that the kids were too terrorized to speak.
“Ja, and I’ve been thanking God they didn’t rupture before we got inside the barn. If the wind had changed direction, we would have been toast.” He faced her. “No need to look frightened. We’re not in any danger from the propane tanks now. Everything is gone.”
“I’m sorry, Mark.”
“We are alive.” He smiled. “God’s grace guided us, and His hand on the storm kept us safe.”
“No, I meant I’m sorry for what I said the night of the benefit.” The words burst from her with the power of the debris being flung across the yard.
“I know you are.” He gave her a sad smile. “What I don’t know is why you assumed I wanted to hurt you and Aveline.”
As she searched for an answer that wasn’t a lie but didn’t give him the sad list of her failed romantic relationships, Theo called her name.
“He needs you,” Mark said.
How could she have labeled him coldhearted? She owed him more apologies than she’d realized. But they would have to wait.
She walked to where her cousin huddled against the rear wheel of the buggy. Sitting beside him, she held out her arm, and Theo nestled close to her.
She wasn’t surprised when he whispered, “I’m sorry, Kirsten.”
“I know you are.”
“They said we wouldn’t get in trouble.” He looked across the barn to where the two Englisch boys were pacing, determined to escape the minute the storm abated.
“They were wrong.”
He gave a half whimper and pressed his head against her shoulder. “I thought it was going to be fun. I believed Roddy when he said the first boat, which was his onkel’s, was due to be painted anyhow. We had a gut time spraying that one with funny sayings.”
“You used red paint on that boat, ain’t so?”
“Ja.”
“So how did you get black paint on your trousers?”
“Owen thought I should practice using a spray can before we painted the boat. He thought it was funny to spray me to show me how to do it.” His voice quivered. “It was funny. At first. Then they wanted to do more. I tried to get out of it, but they said if I did, they’d tell the cops and blame it all on me.”
She sighed. “You defended them in the house.”
“They’ve been gut friends, and we’ve had gut fun.” He lowered his head as he added, “Other than the painting the boats. It was wrong, and I was afraid of Mamm finding out.”
“And being disappointed in you?”
He shook his head, his hair flapping into his eyes. “I didn’t want her to be hurt again. She’s in so much pain from Daed’s death.”
Though she almost said they all were, she kept her mouth closed. Theo needed to talk, and she must not interrupt.
“What do you think will happen now?” he asked.
She wouldn’t lie to him, even to soothe him in the wake of escaping a collapsing, burning house. “The police will want to talk with you. They’re going to ask you questions, and you’ve got to answer them truthfully. They’ll want to know if the gloves Mark found belonged to you.”
“Mark found gloves?” When she quickly explained, Theo said, “They belonged to Owen and Roddy. They said they were going to get rid of them so nobody could pin the graffiti on them.” He hung his head. “That’s when I began to suspect they weren’t being honest with me.”
“Danki for telling me that. You must do the same with the police. No hedging, no hemming and hawing, no half-truths. You’ve got to tell them the truth.”
“Like in a court?”
“Ja.” She fought to quell the thought of her young cousin having to stand before a judge and jury to learn the cost for his crimes. No, not a jury, she reminded herself, because he was a minor. It would be a judge, and she prayed it wouldn’t come to that.
“I don’t want to go to jail.”
Smoothing his wind-blown hair, she murmured, “Whatever happens, remember two things. One, tell the truth, even when those around you don’t.”
“You think they’ll lie to the police?” He frowned at his Englisch friends who were sitting at the edge of the light.
“I don’t know what they’ll do.” She smiled at him. “But I know you, Theodore Petersheim. You’re a gut kid, and you know right from wrong.”
He gave her a hopeful smile. “What’s the second thing to remember?”
“Something you know already.”
“What’s that?”
She squeezed his shoulders. “No matter what happens, your family will be there to help you. We won’t ever abandon you.”
“Daed—”
“Do you think he would have left if God had given him the choice? God has other plans for him.”
“I miss him.”
“I know.” She held him close as he began to sob as he hadn’t when his daed died. Too late she’d realized she should have known the boy needed to mourn his daed instead of trying to step into his shoes.
Shoes that were too large for a twelve-year-old who vacillated between being a toddler and a teen and wasn’t either.
She held Theo until he cried himself to sleep. Leaning him against the buggy, she stood, shaking her arm that tingled with pins and needles. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. If she had to go to bed tonight without her supper, she wouldn’t complain.
Looking around the barn, she noticed the flashlight’s beam was dimming. Once it was gone, they’d be stuck in darkness until the storm was past. Then she realized the flashlight wasn’t losing power. The flames consuming the house had already been beat back by the snow and ice.
“How’s Theo doing?” Mark asked as he patted the hay bale where he was sitting.
“He’s asleep.” She perched on its edge and glanced up as the wind scraped across the roof again. Something shifted on it.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “This roof is in gut repair. We might lose a few shingles, but it’s not going to fall in on us. I think we’re hearing debris shifting up there. If the wind keeps up like this, anything that landed on the roof will be blown off by sunrise.”
“I’ve been praying the barn will stay in one piece.”
“And praying for help with Theo.”
She nodded and leaned against the bales of hay behind them. “I never imagined he wasn’t being honest about spending time with Daryn.”
“I never imagined that Daryn was being honest when he told me he hadn’t seen Theo. What a pair we are!”
“Now you see why you shouldn’t have asked me how to help you with Daryn. I didn’t know what was going on right under my nose.”
“You helped me with Daryn. I discovered I was talking at him as if he were an employee. I should have talked to him. If I had hope of us becoming friends as well as brothers, I had to respect him as a person.” He leaned forward so his forehead was against hers. “I do remember someone telling me that.”
“So why couldn’t I remember to do the same with Theo?” She turned to look at her cousin, but Mark’s gentle fingers tilted her face toward him.
“You’ve been doing the best you can. Wasn’t it you who told me to learn from my mistakes and try not to make them again?”
“That’s what my daed used to tell me.”
“I don’t think I’ve heard you mention your parents before.”
“Of course I have.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am.” But she wasn’t. As she looked out at the unrelenting storm, she wondered why she hadn’t realized how she had put aside the gut aspects of her past along with the painful parts. “Are you okay?”
“Would you be surprised if I said, ‘ja’?”
“No, but I can tell you aren’t okay.”
He sighed. “I can’t fool you, Kirsten. I’ve convinced Daryn everything’s going to be fine, but I don’t know what’s going to happen. We don’t have a place to live, and I don’t know how I can afford the materials to rebuild.”
“You know the community will help.”
“It’s a lot to ask.”
“Not when you would do everything you could to help if someone else’s house had been destroyed.” She saw him wince and began to apologize for being too plainspoken.
“No, don’t say you’re sorry. It’s not going to help if I hide my head in a hole in the ground like an ostrich.”
“Well, you do have a hole in the ground.” She put her hands over her mouth, unable to believe she’d let those words escape her lips.
He looked at her, and his lips twitched. Then he laughed and flung his arm around her shoulder.
Kirsten began to laugh, too, though she should be apologizing for her thoughtless words. When the kids came over to see what was going on, she invited the boys to sit with them.
“All of us?” asked Roddy, his eyes darting from one face to the next.
“All of us.” Mark motioned for them to close the space between them. “It’s going to be cold by dawn.”
“Is there anything under those tarps at the back of the barn?” Theo asked.
“Mostly old farm equipment. I planned on selling it over the summer, but I never got around to it.”
Owen suggested, “We could go out and gather wood and start a fire.”
“You want to start a fire in a barn filled with dry hay?” Mark’s chuckle was wry. “It would get hot fast. Too hot.”
“Told you,” Roddy muttered, glowering at his friend.
The other Englischer retorted. “I’m not going to say another word.”
While the other boys debated what they should do, Kirsten lowered her voice and leaned toward Mark. “The Sea Gull Holiday Cottages are empty, and I’ve got the keys. If Lulu is okay with it, and I’m sure she’ll be, I’ll open one of the cottages for you. It’ll be close quarters in a single room with one bed and a foldout sofa, but there are a stove and sink and a small fridge in each one. It should work temporarily for you and Daryn.”
“Sounds better than sleeping in the cold barn.”
“Sounds great!” interjected Daryn. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “Let’s call her!” He frowned. “No signal. Must be the storm.”
Mark’s brows lowered as his eyes focused on the phone. “Where did you—?”
She jabbed an elbow into his ribs where his brother wouldn’t see. He should focus on Daryn trying to help instead of asking about the phone.
Mark cleared his throat and asked, as he rubbed the spot where she’d given him that sharp nudge, “Were you listening?”
“It’s not as if you were whispering all that quietly.” Daryn’s eyes twinkled in the sparse light from the dying flashlight. “When I heard Kirsten mention my name, I assumed you weren’t trying to kiss her.”
“So you’re an expert on wooing ladies?” Mark asked with a hint of humor.
His brother gave him a thumbs-up.
Kirsten smiled as she pulled her coat more tightly around her. The air in the barn, while warmer than outside, was growing colder with each passing minute. The storm howled, and she wondered how long before it blew itself out.
“I’m hungry,” Theo said.
“Me, too.” Owen clamped his mouth closed and scowled, furious with himself for speaking when he’d vowed not to.
“I wished I’d left the cookies in the buggy,” she said. Her stomach grumbled again, and she pressed her hands to it.
“Don’t mention cookies.” Theo groaned before adding, “My cousin makes the best cookies.”
Daryn got up and said, “We don’t have to be hungry.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mark, aiming the flashlight to follow his brother as he went to a wooden box near the horses’ stalls.
Opening the box, Daryn lifted out a backpack. He brought it to them. Sitting, he unzipped it and tipped it up. Food fell out.
“What’s this?” Mark asked as he picked up a jar of peanut butter.
“My stash. In case you kicked me out, and I had to find my way home.”
“I wouldn’t have kicked you out.”
“I wasn’t sure about that.” He wedged the heel of his boot between two boards and stared at it. “Especially at first when you didn’t think about me other than how much work I could do for you.”
“You’re right.”
Kirsten saw Daryn was as astonished as she was by Mark’s words. Neither of them spoke as Mark went on.
“I thought hard work would keep you from getting into trouble. Daed never worked us hard, and that left plenty of time to find other things to do. That gave time for our brothers and sisters to find mischief.”
“Everyone but you. You never got in trouble.”
“Maybe I should have.”
“What?” Daryn’s voice rose two octaves in a squeak. “You think you should have gotten into trouble?”
“My life was focused on work. Nothing else. All work and no play... Well, you know the rest.”
Kirsten put her hand on his sleeve, then let it slide down so her fingers could entwine with his. She guessed Daryn had no idea how huge an admission this was for Mark because the teen opened the peanut butter and pulled out a loaf of bread. Handing both to Theo, he was reaching for a box of fruity candy when something hammered on the door.
The kids froze, but Kirsten rose along with Mark. He motioned for the boys to stay where they were as he carried the flashlight toward the window. Peering out, he gasped as light flashed through the glass.
Another propane tank exploding?
No, the flashes were red and blue and yellow.
Kirsten ran to the door and lifted the latch. Hands on the edge rolled the door open. Snowflakes, sharpened by the storm, pelted her, and she recoiled.
She was seized and pushed into the barn. In disbelief, she stared at a dozen people dressed in first responder uniforms. Royal Canadian Mounted Police and firefighters.
A woman stepped forward, dressed like the other firefighters. Her badge identified her as the fire chief. “Was anyone in the house when it blew up?”
“It collapsed first,” Theo said, bouncing over to stand by Kirsten.
“No one was in the house.” Mark drew Kirsten and Theo out of the wind. “We escaped before it collapsed and the propane tank blew.”
The woman turned to the other firefighters. “Let them know it’s okay to let it burn as long as it doesn’t spread.”
Kirsten was pretty sure the Mountie was Constable Boulanger. He looked past her to the two Englisch boys and frowned. “What’s your part in this?”
“Can’t that wait?” Mark asked. “These kids are cold.”
The constable nodded. “We’ll get everyone to—”
Kirsten interrupted, “My aenti’s house is close. Helga Petersheim.”
“She called in the alarm,” the fire chief said. “We arranged to follow a snowplow out here. Are you her niece?”
“Ja.” She put her arm around Theo. “This is her son.”
“I’m the fire chief, Kelsey Davenport, if you need me,” she said. “I don’t think you will because I’m leaving you in Constable Boulanger’s competent hands. I want to make sure the wind doesn’t give that fire a second life.”
The constable didn’t wait for the fire chief to leave before he told them to gather their things and prepare to head out into the storm. He herded them outside, not giving Kirsten a chance to talk to Mark again. Another officer appeared out of the storm, and the Englisch boys and the Yutzys were led to one vehicle while she and Theo were taken to the constable’s.
The warmth inside it was welcoming, but as he drove them along the road that looked as if it hadn’t been plowed as the snow fell even faster, the car’s heater couldn’t touch the iciness within her. She hadn’t been completely honest with Mark. Not truly. If he learned of her past, he’d pity her like everyone else did. That was one thing she couldn’t endure—having the man she loved pitying her.