Millie had never seen so much smoke before. It looked like the entire county was going up in flames. Maybe the entire country.
Caty and Genie came into the family room, peering through the door at the wall of black. Millie’s scream must have been loud. And scary.
Genie started to cry, and Adam picked him up. Caty leaned against her father. Millie looked at Adam, trying to stay calm for the children. “That’s a really big fire.”
Adam was similarly frozen, staring in the distance at the black billows that never ended. He slowly turned and handed Genie to Millie. She took him, thankful for the warm body to hold close and try to heat up the blood that had frozen in her veins.
“Adam?”
He just walked forward a few steps and stared. Millie’s breath stuttered. Then his shoulders slumped and he bowed his head. Millie stopped breathing altogether. She reached out and took Caty’s hand, pulled the girl close. Millie didn’t know if she was comforting the kids or leaching comfort from them. Hopefully both. Definitely the latter.
Adam raised his head and looked her way. “Sorry, Millie. I needed a second.”
“That’s got to be a huge fire.”
“Yes. Bigger than any other prairie fire I’ve ever seen.”
Prairie fire. So that’s what this was. The too-dry grass was on fire. Millie swallowed. Hard. She took a couple of breaths slowly through her mouth, focusing on the feel of Genie’s weight in her arms and Caty’s heat at her side. “Okay. What are we going to do?”
Adam wiped a hand across his brow. Then he finally faced them. “I don’t know.”
Millie had to put Genie down before she dropped him. Her entire body was shaking. Adam always knew what to do. Or, at least, he always thought he knew. While his confidence that things would be okay was usually annoying, Millie found his lack of it made dots appear in her vision.
“Daddy, is that a bad fire?” Caty was still gripping Millie’s skirt, but her eyes were focused entirely on her father.
Millie breathed out hard. Please, Lord, help me. I need Your strength right now. My children need it. She squatted down in front of the frightened children. Adam followed suit, kneeling on the ground and pulling his daughter into his arms.
“It’s not a good fire, Caty-girl.”
“Are we going to die?” The words were whispered but they exploded in Millie’s heart and tore it apart. Millie moved from a squat to flat-out sitting on her bottom and reached out for Genie. She wanted to pull Caty in, too, and shelter all her children as much as she could. Including the one still growing inside.
But Adam’s fingers were white where he held on to Caty, and Millie guessed that he would not let the girl go easily. That question must have been equally as painful for him to hear.
“No, Caty. No.”
Adam scooted over to sit on the ground across from Millie. He pulled Caty into his lap, mirroring the way Genie was sitting in her own. Then he leaned forward and held out his hands. Millie didn’t hesitate. The second her hands were in his, she felt things settle.
The ground was beneath her. Her husband’s hands joined her to him. Their children were safe in the shelter they created with their bodies. All was solid. Warm. Real. And blessedly steady.
Adam’s hands squeezed hers tight for a few seconds, and Millie squeezed right back. Things had felt so fractured between them just ten minutes ago. But they were still a family. They still loved their children. They were bound for forever, even if they never spoke to one another again.
Adam squeezed one last time. “It’s going to be okay.”
Even if that wasn’t true, the words were still a balm to the fear that felt like raw, burned skin covering her body. “What are we going to do, Adam?”
“First, we’re going to pray.” Yes. Yes, they needed to pray.
“Then, I’m going to try to get some information. If we see that smoke, then others do, too. Someone might have already gotten a group together to go investigate. If not, I’ll go rally some people to do that. We need to find out how far away the fire is and how fast it’s moving.”
Millie nodded. That not only seemed logical, it sounded wonderful. Information was good. Knowing what they were dealing with, even if it was bad, had to be better than watching that smoke and not knowing.
Millie pictured what she had seen of the prairie. Flat and filled with tall grass. And so dry right now. Not much would stop a fire from getting to them. Maybe the tilled soil in the fields would be a small obstacle to the flames, but Millie doubted it. The only other thing in the fire’s path would be homes.
Homes.
“Adam, people are going to need help. Wherever that fire is, it’s someone’s land. Someone’s home.”
His eyes were solemn, almost midnight black, as they looked at her. He nodded. She was not telling him anything he didn’t know.
Millie lowered her eyes in shame. She had spent the last few minutes worrying about her own family and something that might happen to them. That fire wasn’t a potential threat to others, though. It was a nightmare happening to those people right now.
“How can we help them?”
“We need information first. But, in general, there’s not much we can do to stop the fire. We’ll go there and try, of course. They will need help moving livestock. Moving what possessions they can get out of their homes. Getting to safety.”
Millie pressed her tongue against the back side of her front teeth. This was not going to be good. But sitting here upset wouldn’t accomplish anything. She needed to be calm for the children and then do what she could to help. And pray that they would not need help themselves.
They prayed, and Millie pictured Adam’s words as a blanket that could surround them. Comfort them. Adam finished and just held her hand quietly for a few moments. Millie used that time to say her own silent prayer.
Then Adam lifted Caty and set her on her feet. He reached over and did the same with Genie. Millie immediately missed the feel of his small heart against her chest. Adam stood and leaned down. He easily helped Millie to her feet, and she was thankful for his assistance.
Once they were all standing, Adam placed one hand on Millie’s shoulder and the other on her stomach where her—their—child was still growing. His eyes were no less intense than when the family had been seated on the ground.
He leaned forward and kissed Millie’s forehead. No force of will could have stopped the tears that slid hotly down her cheeks. She wanted to tell him to be careful. She didn’t want to tell him goodbye. She couldn’t manage to say anything at all.
“I’m going to head out. I’ll be back.”
“What should I do? Will the women be gathered somewhere? Will there be people hurt by the fire who need help? Should I pack?” Millie’s mouth seemed to spew out a list of options as though she was writing in her notebook.
“Get together anything that might help if people are hurt. Clean sheets. Bandages. Honey for the burns. Anything else you think might be useful. I’ll send word back to you with what to do next.”
Millie nodded. She wanted a more specific answer, but knew that Adam lacked just as much information as she did. Millie needed to let him go find out more about the situation. Send word.
It only took Adam a few minutes to gather what he thought he might need and saddle his horse. Millie stood in their front yard and watched him ride away. Then she looked at the smoke and tried to determine if it had really moved closer to them or if her fears were just distorting her perception.
“Mama?” Caty was standing a few feet behind Millie, holding Genie’s hand.
Millie turned and smiled at her daughter. “It’s okay, Caty. Daddy will come back.”
Caty nodded, but her entire demeanor shouted her doubts.
Millie walked over to the children. She took a child’s hand in each one of her own and led them up the front steps and inside the house. Once there, she shut the front door. They didn’t need to watch that smoke any more right now. Their focus was required elsewhere.
She led the children over to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down, and pulled the kids in close. She kissed each one on the cheek and ruffled Genie’s hair. Smoothed a hand down Caty’s braid. Looked into their eyes and gave them a real, reassuring smile.
These were her children, and she tried to comfort them as much as possible. That was something she could do. Something she would do.
“Okay, my darlings, let’s talk real quick. There’s a big fire out there.”
Caty nodded, her eyes so much like Adam’s.
“Fire.” Genie repeated the word and nodded his head.
“Daddy went to go help, but we need to help, too. Can you do that with me? Can we help Daddy?”
Both kids immediately nodded, even though Millie doubted Genie truly understood what she was saying.
“Great. I knew you would both be my big helpers. I’m so proud of you both.”
Caty’s smile was small, but genuine. Millie stood up, ready to be moving.
“Genie, can you get your blocks and play for me on the rug? That would help me so much.”
Genie’s face lit up, and he did exactly what Millie asked. Not having him underfoot or worrying about what he was doing would make Millie’s next tasks much easier. “Thank you, Genie-bug. You’re such a good boy.”
“I know.” Genie’s tone was so confident that Millie actually laughed.
Caty was still standing, waiting for Millie to tell her what to do to help. Millie wanted to ask her to play with her dolls, but that wouldn’t be fair. Caty would obey, but she would not be lost in fun play like Genie currently was. Instead, she would worry. Just like Millie.
“Okay, baby, Daddy said we need sheets. And honey. And anything else we think will be useful. Can you help me with all that?”
Caty nodded quickly.
“How about you go and get a couple of the large burlap bags we have? We can pack things in them.” The words were barely out of her mouth before Caty moved to the cabinet where the bags were held.
Millie looked at her notebook, still on the table. Her hands were itching to sit down. Open it. Write out all the ways this fire could go and what they would do in each circumstance.
No.
Millie was still angry that Adam had violated her privacy. Had read what had always been hers alone. But, she had to admit she was also at fault. She had spent so much time and energy on working out the what-ifs instead of working on the right now. Adam had a responsibility to her, but she also had a responsibility to him. And how in the world was he supposed to know what she wanted, what she feared, if she never told him? That was beyond unfair.
“Got them!” Caty set the bags on the table, right on top of the notebook. It was time to act. She could figure out her notebook and her marriage later.
“Okay, Caty-girl, let’s get the extra sheets.”
* * *
Adam was familiar with how fast things could change. His life had shattered in the time it took him to pick up and read the note his first wife had written when she left him. Everything had changed again when she died. His world had changed in the time it took him to say his vows to Millie. It had changed when he read her notebook and saw all those contemplations of his failure. And now, with a glance in the sky, it was changing yet again.
That fire had to be massive. Unstoppable. The grass was dry and the wind was blowing. Toward them. Yes, things were about to change yet again.
Normally, Adam would head to town. That was the most likely place for men to gather. But, his house was between town and the fire, and Adam doubted that men would be moving away from the blaze to gather. Unsure of where else to go, he headed to Mike’s place.
He saw Mike and Edith as he approached their house. It was almost dark now, but the moon was ironically bright. Cheerful. Mike’s horse was saddled, and Mike was hugging Edith. From a distance, they looked like one person. Adam suppressed his sudden jealousy. He didn’t want that. Or at least, he was resigned to not having it.
Mike broke away from Edith and waved at Adam. “I’m glad to see you. Neil Cott came by and said the men are all meeting at the Coltridge place. That’s probably the next area the fire will take.”
The Coltridge farm wasn’t that far away, in rural terms. About two hours. That was much too close in the case of a prairie fire.
“Okay. Let’s go.” Adam wanted to get out there and see what was going on. Do something to cool the acid boiling in his gut.
Mike nodded, mounted his horse and waved goodbye to Edith. Adam nodded his own goodbye, trying to ignore how similar the panicked look in Edith’s eyes was to Millie’s when he’d left.
They made the ride to the Coltridge farm in silence, both men pushing their horses. There wasn’t anything they could say that they both didn’t already know. That smoke had not been there this afternoon. It was there now. The fire was big. It was moving. In their direction. And there was a serious shortage of water and resources to stop it.
The air was hazy when they made it to the Coltridge house. Adam dismounted and squinted, trying to lessen the sting of smoke in his eyes. Adam saw the same grim look on Mike’s face that he felt on his own. The boiling acid in his stomach had shifted into a solid piece of lead.
Adam quickly joined the line of men passing buckets of water in a long chain. The end of that chain was a line of ground the group was trying to saturate. The hope was that the fire would not be able to cross the damp ground. That it would be contained and eventually burn out. That it would stop.
Five hours later, Adam’s arms were one solid ache. His shirt was drenched and his eyes burned as fiercely as the fire they were trying to fight. And it felt like it was all for nothing.
It wasn’t working. Word quickly came down the chain of men that the fire was crossing the line of water. The wind was simply blowing lit grass over the line. And not just over but several feet past the line. This fire wasn’t just moving, it was actually jumping.
The men closest to the fire came back to the creek they had been using as a water source. Adam recognized most of them, even though they were filthy from head to toe. Seth Coltridge spoke, his voice hoarse from either the smoke or emotion. Probably both.
“It’s no use. The fire is coming this way. It’s already eating my fields.” His voice broke, though none of the men drew attention to that. “It’ll be at the barn and house soon. We’re just wasting time and energy trying to fight it at this point.” Tears fell down the man’s face as his wife ran up to him and threw herself at his chest. “Thank you all for your help. But you need to worry about your own places and families now.”
Adam wanted to argue. To suggest trying it for just a little bit longer. Maybe a wider water line would help. Maybe they could get extra water to where the fire was crossing over and use the water to put out new fires started by blowing grass. Maybe they could dig a trench—too large for the fire to pass. Maybe the winds would die down or change.
Maybe.
Maybe.
Maybe.
Adam looked from where he had been focused on the wall of smoke in the not so distance. The men were seemingly all talking at once, throwing out the ideas Adam had thought of along with several other options. Good men, who were hot and tired and scared. Men who had effectively just been told that they needed to stand by and watch their dreams literally go up in smoke.
“Excuse me, men! Excuse me!” Pastor Willis was almost yelling, trying to be heard over all the voices. The pastor was every bit as hot and tired as the rest of them, having come to help his congregants even though his own home in town was likely safe. The fire was heading in its direction, yes, but it would have to cross a large river to actually get there.
The group quieted down and the men turned to the pastor. Adam could hear the sound of Mrs. Coltridge crying, but he tried not to focus on the sound. Or imagine similar noises coming from Millie before the day was through.
“Okay. We need to stay calm. And organized.” Though he looked as grimy as the rest of them, the pastor’s voice carried clearly and with that hint of authority that came from addressing groups of people on a weekly basis. “If we can’t fight this fire, we need to make sure we do as much damage control as possible.”
Adam found himself nodding with the rest of the men. He wanted to fight the fire, too. But at the end of the day, there were forces that were actually beyond their control. And if the fire was going to come either way, they might as well be prepared to the extent possible.
Pastor Willis continued, “We can’t save crops or houses. But we can save livestock and people. And some possessions.” Though he was a pastor, Eric Willis had grown up the son of farmers. He knew about the reality of living out here beyond the town limits.
“We should gather the livestock and get them on the other side of the river, into town,” Mr. Sinclair spoke up, his comment met with general murmurs of approval.
The water line had been ineffective. The small creeks and ponds dotting the landscape had similarly had no real impact. But the river dividing the fire from town was quite large. Worst-case scenario, they might have to destroy the bridge that spanned it to keep it from carrying the fire across. That would leave people stranded on the town side, but would also keep the fire away.
A few of the older men conferred quickly, and Adam was content to let them come up with a plan. His entire body was starting to feel tingly, a sense of unreality about this entire situation seeming to grow up from his feet and bloom at his head.
Lord, this isn’t fair. It just isn’t fair. Why?
There wasn’t an answer. Not even the sense of one.
Finally, all the plans were made. Pastor Willis prayed, and men started moving out in groups. Mike and Adam mounted their horses and headed back home. Mike’s ranch hands would move their livestock toward town. Adam’s house was on the way to town, so they would meet up with Adam’s remaining hands there and take Adam’s livestock, too. All the livestock should easily make it to the property on the other side of the river that others had agreed could be used to shelter the animals so long as necessary.
Mike would go home. He and Edith would pack a wagon full of as much stuff as they could. Then Mike would send Edith toward town, stopping first at Adam’s house. Adam would go home and help Millie pack. Then, he would send Millie and the kids with Edith, all heading to safety in town with as much stuff as they could bring.
Adam and Mike would stay at their homes, each with a horse. They would fight as long as possible to protect their homes from the fire. Maybe lessen the damage somehow. Then when the flames were closing in, they would go to town and join the others.
It was a plan. One that filled Adam with dread, but a plan nonetheless. And moving surely felt better than waiting. Or staring at the ever approaching wall of smoke.