Where Love Grows

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Menno plunged into the rolling smoke, almost crawling on his hands and knees. Susan followed him, the sting and smell of smoke choking her. Bending over, she ran toward the stalls. When she arrived, Daett already had the first stall open, appearing in the ghostly smoke with his half of the shirt wrapped over a Belgian’s eyes as he yanked hard on the halter.

  Daett was choking, and his eyes were barely open. Tears were running down his face. Lowering his head, he moved past her. Susan waited for only a moment before entering the next stall. A driving horse stood near the back, slamming its back feet against the wooden slats. The sound repeated like rapid gunfire.

  “Come on, girl.” Susan reached up to stroke the horse’s nose. She jerked her head around and rolled her eyes back. Wrapping the shirt over the horse’s face, Susan pulled on the halter. Slowly the animal followed her, a few steps at a time, shying when loud cracks came from overhead.

  “I’m going back in again!” Daett hollered in Susan’s ear when he appeared suddenly in the smoky air. “Don’t come in after me. It’s getting too dangerous.”

  Susan said nothing as she continued to pull on the horse’s halter. Daett would say such a thing, of course. But he was going back in…and she would follow—especially if he didn’t come back out by the time she had this horse away from the barn.

  Bursting into the fresh air, Susan gasped for breath and wiped her face. For the first time she felt the wetness of her tears. Leading the horse to the gate separating the barnyard from the pasture, she took her through before taking the shirt off her head. The animal glanced back at the burning barn before racing along the fence toward the other horses.

  Ada and Reuben’s son Duane came around the other side of the barn leading a horse, and Susan waited until he was through the gate before closing it. The ends of his hair were burned, and wild pieces of it curled skyward.

  “You’re hurt!” she shouted, pointing at a bleeding wound on his head.

  “I hit a beam, that’s all.”

  “Where are Steve and your daett?”

  “They should be out by now. There…”

  Susan turned to see Reuben and Steve come around the corner of the barn, each leading a horse. Steve handed the lead rope to Reuben and dashed back into the smoky interior.

  Behind her the loud roar of a fire engine sounded at the end of the driveway. The blast of its horn filled the air, just as she turned and watched it careen into the area in front of the barn. Susan turned and ran toward the barn. Steve was going back to look for more horses. Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the inferno. She stopped a few feet inside. The burning in her eyes and mouth were too much to endure.

  Gasping for air, she staggered outside and fell to her knees as coughs racked her body. The ghostly form of Daett appeared in the doorway leading another horse. His bare chest was soaked with sweat, his beard black with cinders.

  “Where’s Steve?” she screamed, choking from the effort.

  Daett shook his head and fell to the ground. With a cry she grabbed the halter of the Belgian, who reared in fear. Susan fought him, pulling him sideways away from her father’s gasping form. The work animal’s huge hooves landed inches from her father’s leg. She pulled again, guiding him toward the gate.

  Two firemen came rushing around the corner of the barn, their faces hidden behind smoke masks. Both were clad in heavy, flapping suits. Behind them another fireman raced, his face uncovered, shouting, “Is anyone still inside?”

  “Steve is!” Susan yelled, hanging on to the horse’s halter. The horse reared again and she let go, diving sideways to escape its dropping hooves. Out of the corner of her eye, Susan saw Duane and her daett rush between her and the horse, their arms outspread. Shouting like wild men, they herded the animal toward the gate. The fireman without the mask was shouting into a mike on his shoulder and pointing toward the billowing smoke pouring out of the barn door. Steve was nowhere in sight.

  “He’s gone back inside!” Susan screamed again, struggling to get to her feet. Waves of weakness rushed over her. Another coughing fit drove her to her knees. What would Steve be experiencing inside the barn if the air was this bad just a few feet outside? Nothing could be done but watch and wait as time passed slowly. She kept her eyes on the smoke billowing out of the barn door.

  The fireman without the mask was still shouting, running back and forth in front of the barn door. A gurney appeared, pushed and pulled by two men who must have been taking orders from the unmasked fireman. From inside the barn came the shrill scream of a horse cutting above the crackle of fire.

  Susan stood up and felt the firm grip of Daett’s hand on her arm.

  “We must pray!” Daett said as Susan stood frozen. Daett’s voice murmured in prayer, “Keep us all safe, O dear Da Hah. Help the fireman inside the barn and Steve. Allow him to live to see another day. Protect any animals still inside.”

  Susan tore herself away from the sound of Daett’s praying when Mamm and Ada appeared around the corner of the barn. She ran toward them even as they were shooed back by a fireman. Susan stopped short. Nothing good could be happening inside the barn. Would the fireman be coming out of the barn bearing Steve’s body? If he did, would Steve be overcome by smoke inhalation or worse? How tragic the night had become. Steve, with his shy smile and gentle jokes. Surely he couldn’t be gone. But who knew what Da Hah planned? He might very well decide this was Steve’s time. At least he didn’t have a frau whose heart would be torn by sorrow and grief at the news of his passing.

  Susan pushed the horrible thoughts away.

  Two firemen appeared in the smoking doorway carrying Steve between them. They placed him on the gurney.

  Susan rushed forward, trying to reach him. The fireman in charge raised his hands and told her to stay back. One fireman caught her and kept her from getting closer to the gurney and the barn. She watched as men strapped a plastic mask over Steve’s face and rushed the gurney toward the waiting ambulance that had arrived shortly after the fire trucks.

  “Steve!” Susan shouted, but he gave no response as he was wheeled by.

  “He should be okay,” the fireman without a face mask said as the gurney disappeared around the corner of the barn. “We think it’s just smoke inhalation.”

  Susan stared after the gurney and didn’t move.

  “Are you his girlfriend? His wife?” the fireman asked. “If so, you can ride along in the ambulance.”

  Susan shook her head. But there ought to be someone riding with him, she wanted to shout. Steve was a decent man. He shouldn’t have to ride alone to the hospital without someone holding his hand.

  “Come!” Daett took Susan’s arm. “We have to move away from the fire. Thank Da Hah Steve wasn’t injured more severely. The boy shouldn’t have done what he did. No horse is worth such a risk.”

  “Amen!” Reuben agreed from behind them. All around them streams of water from the firemen’s hoses hissed when they met the flames.

  The attempt was futile, Susan figured. The barn would burn to the ground. But they were trying, just as Steve had tried. They were all good men, and that was what good men did. They tried. She broke down and wept, leaning against Daett’s shoulder.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Three fire trucks were parked in the yard. The one between the house and barn was still spraying water on the utility shed. Susan stood with Mamm and Ada on the front porch while the men milled around the pasture, being kept away from the area by the ever-vigilant firemen.

  The ambulance had long since departed. Duane had gone along to keep Steve company. Susan had almost offered to go at the last minute, but that would have been unseemly, even though it might have been understandable. Steve needed a woman’s touch and he was her daett’s hired hand. Perhaps she should have been bold enough to go, but it was too late now.

  Buggies were coming down the road now, the horses urged on by heavy slaps of the reins. A few Englisha vehicles had parked alongside the road, the neighbors getting out to stare a
t the aftermath. Mamm and Ada went down to the road to meet the Amish as they arrived to see if they could help. They talked for a few minutes with the people as they pulled to a stop. There wasn’t much anyone could say or do at this point. Showing their concern was the main thing. And it did feel gut to have the community gather in support. At least it was only Reuben and Ada’s barn that was burning to the ground. To lose the house would have been much, much worse.

  No reason had been given for the cause of the fire yet. That would come out in due time. Meanwhile, more buggies were arriving. Susan walked out to join Mamm and Ada by the road.

  Daett and Reuben headed across the pasture to direct buggies to pull in where they would be safe and out of the way. Even from a distance many of the horses looked wild-eyed and acted as if they were on the verge of bolting or shying into the roadside ditch.

  “What happened?” one of the women asked Ada. Susan turned her attention toward them to hear Ada’s reply.

  “I haven’t heard,” Ada said. “Reuben hasn’t said anything. We were in the middle of supper when Joan got up to take the pies out of the cupboard. She saw the fire through the kitchen window.”

  “That must have been quite a shock,” someone said. “Do you think the men left a lantern burning in the barn?”

  “No, they were done for the night,” Ada replied. “Steve Mast works for Menno, so he hadn’t been in the barn all evening. He came straight into the house from work.”

  “It looks like there was no chance to save the barn,” one woman observed. Just then they heard the sound of large timbers crashing to the ground. “That must have been the barn’s main beams,” she added.

  Ada clasped her hands. “Thank Da Hah no one was inside. That would have been awful—losing someone at a time like this.”

  “Didn’t an ambulance leave with someone in it?” someone asked.

  Ada nodded. “Steve inhaled too much smoke trying to get the last of the horses out. The paramedics think he’s going to be okay.”

  “Did you lose any livestock?” the woman asked.

  Ada shrugged. “I don’t know. At least one horse, I think. I was too worried about Steve. Horses can be replaced.”

  They all nodded and turned to watch as another beam fell, seemingly in slow motion, an eerie sound filling the air. A spray of water from fire hoses arched through the sky and drenched the trees near the house.

  As some of the people drove out, the women moved to the house porch. They hadn’t been standing there long when one of them suggested they make sandwiches and prepare drinks for the firemen.

  “That’s right!” Ada said. “And there are still pies on the table. That will be a good place to start in helping the men recover from this ordeal.”

  Susan followed them inside and squeezed lemons for the lemonade while others got out pitchers and glasses. Other women sliced pies and put the pieces on plates.

  “That will do while we make egg-salad sandwiches.” Ada waved toward the door. “Take out what we have.”

  One of the women was already heating water over the stove when Susan left with her hands full of servings of pie. Joan and two others followed with lemonade and glasses.

  Walking down the porch steps to the picnic table, they spread the drinks and pie out for the firemen.

  Susan took a quick look around. The food ought to be safe here from the still-floating cinders. How should she get the firemen’s attention? Perhaps they didn’t want to be disturbed in their work. Seeing Reuben out by the pasture fence, she walked over to him. “Ada has drinks and food ready for the firemen. Sandwiches will be ready soon. I’m not sure how to let the firemen know.”

  He nodded. “I’ll let them know before long.” Reuben’s face looked drawn and distracted, which was understandable. His barn had burned to the ground. Gone in the matter of an hour or two.

  Already it seemed like years since Susan had stood in front of the kitchen sink thinking her moody thoughts. “Have you heard how Steve is doing?”

  Reuben didn’t say anything. He just stared at the embers where the barn had once stood.

  Susan was ready to repeat the question when he shrugged.

  “I don’t know, but I think someone should check on him.”

  “I’ll go into town,” Susan offered without thinking. “Maybe someone needs to sit by his bed for the night. Duane will probably want an update on what’s happened out here too.”

  Reuben nodded. “You shouldn’t go by yourself. Take Joan along.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask her.”

  Reuben turned around. “Come with me first. I’ll see if I can find someone to drive the two of you to the hospital.”

  Susan tagged along as Reuben approached the crowd of neighbors. “Anybody willing to drive Susan and Joan to the hospital so they can check on Steve Mast?”

  “I’ll drive them,” an elderly Englisha neighbor offered.

  “Thank you, Rodney,” Reuben acknowledged. “They took Steve to Scott Memorial.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” Susan smiled her thanks before running toward the house. She found Joan among the woman gathered on the porch. “Your daett said you could go with me to see how Steve is doing. If he needs us, we’ll stay for the night. Do you want to go along?”

  “Of course,” Joan said at once. “But I should ask Mamm.”

  Susan nodded and went to find her own mamm.

  Meeting back on the porch, they nodded at each other and walked across the lawn and out to the road.

  “Are you ready to go?” the Englisha neighbor asked as they approached.

  When they nodded, he said, “My wife is waiting in the car. Do you need to stop to pick up anything at your house, Susan?”

  “We’re fine,” Susan told him, imagining sitting in a chair all night as the worst-case scenario. They wouldn’t need more than what they had on.

  “Is the young man your sweetheart?” the old fellow asked on the way to the car.

  Susan shook her head. “Thank you for taking us,” she said. “Steve’s our hired hand.”

  “I see.” He didn’t sound convinced as they arrived at the car. “Lydia, this is Susan and Joan. I just offered to take them into town to check on the young man who was taken to Scott Memorial.”

  Lydia smiled at Susan and Joan. “I’m glad we can help. I appreciate the way your people look after your own.”

  Susan opened the back door and motioned Joan in first. While they fastened their seat belts, the old fellow climbed in, groaning as if he were in pain.

  “Tough getting so old,” he said as he turned the key in the ignition. “It’s tough losing a barn in this economy too. Tough anytime, as far as that goes.”

  “Do they know how the fire started?” Lydia asked.

  “I haven’t heard,” Susan replied.

  Rodney turned the car around and headed toward town.

  “Surely it couldn’t be arson?” Lydia glanced at Rodney.

  Her husband cleared his throat. “I heard the men talking. Reuben thinks it must have been the last batch of hay. It was rained on before he baled. He thought it had dried sufficiently, but maybe not. The fire could have been caused by spontaneous combustion. And from how fast the fire advanced before it was first spotted, that makes sense. Much of the loft would be involved before there were visible signs from outside.”

  “I was the one who spotted the fire from the kitchen window,” Joan volunteered. “I couldn’t believe it at first. Smoke and flames were coming out of the eaves.”

  “You poor thing.” Lydia reached over the seat to pat Joan on the arm.

  “It was awful.” Joan shuddered. “Then Mamm said to run up to Uncle Menno’s place to tell them. Daett said he was going to run across the road to call the fire department from the phone shack.”

  “You never know when tragedy will strike.” Lydia sighed. “I suppose the Lord has His reasons.”

  They rode in silence along the rolling southern Indiana hills. The trip was made in a fraction of the ti
me it would have taken a horse and buggy.

  “We’ll come inside to make sure everything is okay,” Lydia said after Rodney parked the car.

  “That’s awfully nice of you,” Susan told them. “Are you sure you have the time?”

  “Believe me,” Rodney replied, “we don’t have much left but time. If we go home, we’d just be watching Jeopardy on TV.”

  With Rodney still chuckling, they climbed out of the car. Susan led the way into the low, one-story hospital. She hadn’t been here for years—not since Joan had broken her arm in the eighth grade. Susan had ridden along to the hospital with Ada and an Englisha driver then too.

  “I remember this place,” Joan whispered, looking up at the round, glass-enclosed top of the building as they walked in.

  “I was just remembering the time you broke your arm,” Susan whispered back.

  In front of them, Duane jumped up from where he’d been sitting in the waiting room. A smile filled his face. “I thought I’d been forsaken and abandoned by everyone.”

  “You know we wouldn’t do that,” Susan said. “How is Steve doing?”

  “I was in the room with him until a few minutes ago. He’s awake now and ready to go home, he says. I didn’t know what to do about that. No one answered the phone at the shack when I called.”

  “That’s good news about Steve.” Relief flooded Susan’s face.

  “That is good news!” Rodney declared. “We’ll wait here until he’s checked out and take all of you home.”

  “I’d better go back and see for myself,” Susan said. “I just realized that Steve being ready to go home may not be the same as the doctor being ready to allow him to go home.”

  “Talk to the nurse up front to see if she says it’s okay for you to see Steve,” Duane said. “They don’t like people wandering around without permission.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Susan walked up to the nurse’s small window. “May I please see Steve Mast?”

  The young woman disappeared for a moment, and Susan heard the murmur of voices. The nurse returned and quietly said, “The doctor said it’s okay. I’ll take you back.” The woman led the way to a room with several curtained-off spaces. Motioning with her hand toward one of them, she said, “He’s in there. Go ahead. One side’s open.”