Adam’s hand was firm as he led her to sit on the front steps. Firm, but not angry, even though she had clearly pushed her husband past the limits of his temper. Please, God. Please, he has to understand. He just has to.
They watched as Edith took the kids and led them out to look at something in the barn. She was a good friend. Millie hoped that she would have children of her own to care for soon. Edith and Mike wanted that, and they would be such good parents.
Adam didn’t let go of her hand once they were both sitting. Millie saw him set her notebook down with his other hand. What was he doing with her notebook?
“Millie, tell me why you want to stay. Help me understand.” Adam’s voice wasn’t the least bit accusing. He genuinely wanted to understand.
“I just want to help you. And I don’t like leaving you here alone. What would we do if something happened to you?”
“I have plans in place. There is money in the bank, set aside for you in case something happens to me, and I know you saw the box with extra cash from under my floorboards that I put into the wagon. Plus, you’ll own this land. Even if a fire destroys the buildings and the crops, you’ll be able to get a decent price for the place. And our friends would help you. They would. I’m not saying it would be easy, but you and the kids won’t be homeless. Won’t be broke. I promise.”
Millie felt frustration well up inside. It made sitting still next to him difficult. “I don’t care about losing the man who provides for me. I care about losing you—Adam.” Millie reached over and picked up her notebook. “I was out there with Edith. I put the kids in the front of our wagon and I climbed up, picked up those reins, and it just hit me.” Millie’s words were falling out fast and almost slurred, her fingers white where she gripped the notebook in her lap. Her chest was heaving, her breaths audible and ragged.
Adam placed a hand on her back and began to rub in soft circles. “What, Millie? What hit you?”
Millie swallowed hard. She gestured with her notebook. “This. I thought I wanted financial security. To leave this farm. To do something safe. But that’s not what I want. When it came time for me to take my belongings and leave for safety, I felt like...like...well, I don’t even know what.”
Millie’s skin got tight just remembering. “My parents were teachers. My first husband was a shopkeeper. No crops, no drought, no fire. But disaster found them—took them from me. Both times. Even though I keep trying,” Millie raised her notebook again, “to control the future, to make myself safe, it’s just a lie. I’m not in control, and I never will be.”
She opened her notebook to that jagged edge that had held the page he’d read. “See this? I listed all the ways my world could be torn apart.”
“I know.”
“Well, I never listed prairie fire. In fact, I didn’t list hundreds of ways bad things could happen.” Millie put the notebook, still open, back on her lap. “I also didn’t list all the ways things could go right.”
Adam’s hand stopped rubbing in circles and just stayed still on her back.
“I can’t get on that wagon and go to town because I can’t leave you. I’m not just worried about my husband dying, I’m worried about the man that I love dying. The father of my children.”
Adam’s hand fell from her back. It felt like a rejection, but Millie made herself keep going. She was doing the exact opposite of what they agreed on just the night before—only moments before she saw the smoke in the distance—but she didn’t care. Millie was done trying to bend the world to her will. She was going where God led her, and He’d led her heart to Adam.
“I want to help try to save this place. I love it here, too. This land, it doesn’t just call to you. I want to be in this house, the first place where I ever felt like I belonged. I want my garden, the vegetables that are growing because I tended them. The food I’m growing to feed my family. I want to watch Caty and Genie run wild in the only place they’ve ever called home. I want this. And you.”
Millie picked up her notebook, started ripping out pages. “I don’t need this, Adam. I don’t need a fake life on paper. I need a real life. Here with you.”
Millie went to rip out the next page in her notebook when Adam’s hands came firmly down on her own to stop her. He pulled the notebook out of her grasp and held both of her hands in his own. “No, Millie. Stop.”
Millie was going to throw up. And since he was holding her hands and keeping her from getting away, she was probably going to end up throwing up all over herself and Adam. He didn’t want her like that. He wanted her to stop.
“I love you, too.”
Wait. What?
Adam let go of her hands and picked up the partly destroyed notebook. He flipped a couple of pages and put it back in her lap.
That wasn’t her handwriting. The two options were definitely written by a man. She ran her fingers over the words as she read them.
“You did this?” She knew he had. He was the only man with access to her notebook. The only one who would rewrite the topic of their fight in such a manner.
His hands came back up to her face, making her wish he would never stop cupping her cheeks like this. “While you were outside realizing you love me, I was inside realizing I love you. I understand why you write your lists. I actually think it’s adorable. Your notebook isn’t the problem.”
Millie was trying to listen, trying to focus on his words, but she also wanted to replay his declaration of love over and over again in her mind. Later. She would do it later.
“We’re the problem. Or, we were. The fact that we both used our past experiences with other people to predict what we would do—or what others would do to us—in the future. It doesn’t work that way, honey. You’re right about not being able to predict every bad thing that could happen. It’s a waste of time to even try. We’re not in control.”
Millie nodded within the safety of his hands. “God is.” Her voice was a whisper. A confirmation. Adam leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. Then he kissed her on the lips. Millie was ready to melt right into him when he pulled away.
“Okay, Millie. The fire is still coming at us.”
“Please don’t make me leave you. Let me stay?”
Adam let go of her face and stood. He looked where the horses were patiently waiting with the wagons. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Or the baby.”
Millie stood and put a hand on his arm. “Agreed. I won’t do anything crazy. I’ll just help as much as I can and be with you.”
“Okay. We can send the kids with Edith. Mike’s hand who came along can take our wagon.”
“Really?”
“I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but I want you to stay with me. I’m scared senseless that you’ll end up getting hurt, or the baby will, and that I will regret this decision for the rest of my life. But it’s true that this is your home and you have every right to try to save it. And there’s no one I would rather have with me.”
“Thank you, Adam.”
Adam and Millie said goodbye to Edith and the children. Watched both wagons leave. Then, they were left alone. The smoke was no longer in the distance. It now was close enough that it had the appearance of fog, a fine mist that stung Millie’s nose when she breathed in too deep. Millie looked at the sky, foolishly hoping for rain. The parts she could see above the haze were a clear, brilliant blue.
* * *
Adam wet two bandanas in the well, and they each tied one over their mouth and nose. That helped keep most of the smoke out. He was probably a horrible husband for letting Millie stay, but he couldn’t regret it. They had tried being married as two separate entities. Now, he wanted to do it the right way. Two parts of one whole, together.
They filled the root cellar with as much stuff from the house as they could fit. Then, they covered it with several sheets and blankets. Millie watched as Adam filled in the last two feet with dirt. It seemed too much like filling in a grave, and Adam had to focus on the thought of coming back and pulling these things out of the ground unharmed.
By the time he was done, the smoke in the air had gone from a thin fog to a much thicker haze. There was an orange glow in the distance that made his nerves prickle. The land was flat here with visibility stretching out to a considerable distance, so he knew that the fire was still several miles away. But if they could see it, it was time to leave.
“We need to go, Millie.”
She stood from where she’d been leaning against a tree. “We’re done? I thought you wanted to wet the house and barn down.”
“I can see the fire. That means we need to leave now. We’ve done the best we can—the rest is in God’s hands.”
Millie turned to look in the direction he had pointed. She gasped and held her hands to her mouth. Adam walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around and resting his hands on the swell of her stomach. “It’s okay. It’s still far away. But we’re not taking any chances.”
Millie lowered her hands from her face and leaned back into him. “Okay. Let’s go to town and be with our children.”
Adam had just helped Millie climb up into the saddle when Mike rode up to the house. He’d been riding his horse hard, and his voice was alarmed. “Adam! Millie! We need to go. The fire jumped over by my place. It’s right behind me.”
Adam’s stomach dropped. That orange glow he’d seen in the distance wasn’t the fire line. Or, at least it wasn’t the only part of the fire line. The flames were much closer, and now Millie was in danger. All because he had let her stay. He mounted his own horse, hoping the riding lessons he’d given Millie would see her through this new ordeal.
As they reached the main road, Adam could hear the fire. Please, God. Please. Take care of Millie and the baby. They were riding as fast as they could, taking Millie’s pregnancy into consideration.
They rounded a curve, and the smoke visibly thinned. Adam looked at Mike and saw his own relief mirrored there. They still needed to hurry, but Adam no longer felt like they were running for their lives.
The passed the rest of the ride in silence. Every once in a while, one of the three of them would turn around and look as though the fire were a wild animal chasing them. Even though they were clear of it at the moment, they all knew it was a matter of being clear for now. Adam was acutely aware of the wind that seemed to be pushing them, and the fire, forward.
Finally, they were in the last stretch before reaching town. The smoke was thicker here. The fire was close. Adam felt his lips tighten in annoyance that fires couldn’t travel in a nice straight line.
“Is that the fire I hear?” Millie sounded frightened, and Adam wished he could touch her. He listened for a second, trying to hear whatever was scaring Millie. There was a roar in front of them, soft but getting louder as they progressed down the road. Were they riding right into the fire?
Mike looked at Adam and grinned wide. “It’s not the fire. It’s the river.”
The last time Adam had seen the river, it had been low. The drought was affecting everything. It sounded like it was full now, though. Things must have gotten better in the area upstream that fed these waters. That was good for someone, at least. And right now, it was good for them, too. The bigger and more robust the river, the bigger and more robust the defense for the town against the fire.
Adam’s gratitude crashed and broke into a million tiny pieces when the river came into view. It was large and wet and just what they needed. But the bridge was gone. The people in town must have been as worried about the fast-moving fire as they were.
They were going to have to go into the water to get to the other side. The cold, rushing water. The river that was supposed to protect them suddenly looked as dangerous as the fire they were fleeing.
They stopped at the river and dismounted. Millie leaned into Adam’s left side, and he used his left arm to pull her close and squeeze her tight. “What do you think, Mike? You take the horses across, and I’ll take Millie?”
“That water is going really fast, Adam. I think I should go with you to help Millie.”
“I’m not helpless. I’m sure I can get across without both of you.” Millie’s voice was indignant, but she didn’t try to pull away.
Before they could argue it out, Adam saw several people come out of the church and run over to the river. The pastor. Edith and the kids. Several men from the area.
“Stay there. We’ll come to you.” The pastor’s voice was nearly drowned out by the running water, but Adam understood him.
The men quickly tied a rope to the remains of the bridge on their side. Then, several of them crossed the river, slowly battling the current. Adam and Mike waded into the river on their side to meet the men and help them emerge.
The rope was tied to the remains of the bridge on their side. Then, Adam and Mike each took one of Millie’s arms. They entered the water where the rope ran across. Another man followed them, ready to help in case they needed it. Two more men followed with the horses.
Adam leaned close, wanting to make sure Millie heard him. “Just hold on to the rope. This will be over in no time.” Together, the group crossed the river. It was cold from the beginning, but the current didn’t become punishingly strong until they were about a third of the way across. Millie faltered at one point, and Adam increased the pressure on her arm, trying to hold her up. His muscles were shaky by the time they walked out of the water on the other side.
They had made it.
Edith passed a blanket to Adam and then threw herself into Mike’s arms, making him stumble back a few steps. “Michael Potter, you scared me to death! Everyone else made it to town already. I thought something had happened to you.” Edith’s voice became muffled where she was pressing her face into Mike’s neck.
Adam put the blanket around Millie, who was holding both Caty and Genie. Adam hadn’t seen them run to her. He turned and thanked the men who had crossed to help them. Then Adam squatted down and opened his arms. “Hey there, darlings. Do I get a hug, too, or is that just for Mama?” Adam laughed as the two little bodies rushed him.
“I was scared, Daddy. I didn’t like it.”
Adam pulled Caty closer and kissed her on the head. “I know, Caty-girl. I’m sorry you were scared, but we’re all okay. And we’re together again.”
It didn’t take long for them to change into dry clothes and gather with the others inside the church. The sun had set, and the sanctuary was lit by multiple candles and lamps.
Genie was asleep, lying down on the pew with his head in Millie’s lap. Caty was sleeping in Adam’s arms, her head a welcome weight on his shoulder. Adam reached out and held Millie’s hand, scooting to close the gap between them on the pew.
“You can lean on me to sleep, Millie.” His voice was low, one of many soft tones filling the space.
“I don’t think I can fall asleep. My body is exhausted, but my mind keeps racing.”
“Are you hungry? There’s a table of food over there with just about everything you can think of on it.”
Millie smiled faintly, running her fingers through Genie’s hair. “No. I just want to sit here, feel you all around me and try to clear my mind.”
Adam managed to reach inside his borrowed coat and find the notebook and pencil he’d retrieved from their wagon earlier while Millie was changing clothes. He pulled them out and passed them to her, feeling his heart squeeze at the look on Millie’s face. “Here. This might help you clear your mind.”
Millie took the notebook and set it on her lap, clear of Genie’s head. “How did you manage to do this?”
Adam let his smugness saturate his tone. “I have my ways. I told you I would make sure you have everything you needed.”
Millie sniffled and her voice was thick with tears. “I already had everything I needed right here. But, thank you for the notebook. I love you, Adam Beale.”
Adam leaned over and tipped Millie’s face up to his. He brushed the tears from her cheeks and then kissed her mouth. It felt like home. Adam had done everything he could to avoid having this with Millie, and yet there they were. And it was perfect.
A noise came from outside the church, men talking rapidly. Loudly. Adam set Caty down on the pew next to Millie, covered the girl with his borrowed coat and went outside to see what was happening.
The problem was obvious once he went through the church door outside. The other side of the river was an orange glow. The fire had caught up to them.