by Kelly Irvin
Henry slid into the back seat. “Christine will be sad to leave.”
The closest he would come to asking a question. Andy stared through the bug-spattered windshield, trying to divine a future obscured by smoke and uncertainty. “Ben’s moving them back to Kansas. To his parents’ place. We talked to him last night about letting her stay with her onkel in St. Ignatius.”
“You talked to Ben?”
A gaff in Plain tradition, to be sure. If they planned to marry, they should have talked to the deacon and let him speak with both sets of parents first. “I haven’t asked her to marry me. Instead, I asked her to remain close by while I take care of my unfinished business.”
“You’re engaged?” Sal clapped twice before he pushed the ignition button and the SUV revved. “Congrats.”
“Nee, but pretty close.” Andy’s father once told him that close only counted in horseshoes. Time to change the subject. “What about you? Did you have to evacuate from the Gibraltar Fire or the Three Forks Fire?”
“My wife and the baby girls are in Missoula with her folks, just to be on the safe side.” The deputy’s tone turned gruff. “I hate being apart from them, but it’s better than having to worry about them all the time while I’m trying to work.”
“You have three girls. That must be sweet to go home to at night.”
“It’s the best.” Sal turned into the Drakes’ property and maneuvered past a deep rut in the gravel road. “Truth be told, I’ve been lobbying for one more to see if we can get a boy, but Maricela says the factory’s closed.”
Three would be a start for a Plain family where the rule tended to be the more the merrier. A Plain man would want sons as much as Sal, but every healthy baby was a gift from God.
Sal pulled into the driveway that ended not far from a pit of ashes and melted metal. Mike stood, head down, ball cap in his hands, near the cement steps that had once led to his front porch.
“I’ll get him.” Sal opened his door. “The longer he stands there, the worse it’ll be.”
“Let me.”
Sal paused, then nodded. “You know how he feels, I suppose.”
Not the same, Mike would surely have argued, but closer. Andy took his time approaching. The sheriff would let Sal know if the need to hurry arose. “Hey, Mike.”
The man turned. Misery lines etched leathery skin ravaged by years in the sun. His oversized nose was bright red to match the rims of his watery blue eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It’s stupid. It’s just a house, but I can’t seem to leave it.”
Tears made his voice raspy.
“It’s not stupid. It’s human.”
“How about your cabin?”
“Gone.”
Mike slid his purple Colorado Rockies cap—a flash of color in an otherwise decimated landscape—onto his head. “I was remembering how Kyle chased Alex around the house one night after we’d just put the finishing touches on the kitchen. New cabinetry, new quartz countertops, new pulls, new backsplash. All that stuff women like from watching too much HGTV.”
Andy nodded. He’d never watched TV in his life, but he knew about renovating older houses from his work at the furniture store.
“Anyhow, Kyle races through the kitchen in his socks, slides across the floor, and crashes into the cabinets. Crushes the door and busts it into pieces. I wanted to tan his hide, but DeeDee said no. She said it was an accident. Bad judgment. She’s one of those time-out people. They all went to their rooms for the rest of the afternoon. I had to special order the new door. I was peeved . . .” His voice trailed off.
Andy stood shoulder to shoulder with the Englisher in silence. No birds chattered. No bees buzzed. No frogs croaked. No crickets chirped. No leaves rustled in the trees. The eerie silence paid tribute to the physical destruction of a close-knit community that practiced the same faith in differing ways.
“We’ll rebuild.” No words could provide comfort, but Andy tried these on for size. Rebuilding would reflect the resilience of that same community. “We won’t let a fire keep us from living the life Gott intended.”
“They say God’s ways are mysterious.” With a loud honk Mike blew his nose in a brilliantly white handkerchief. Its creases suggested it had been ironed by his wife. “But it’s the evil one who throws obstacles in our way and tries to tell us it’s God. Satan tells us to give up and get out. I won’t give him the satisfaction.”
“Good for you.” Andy offered him a smile. “I have to go up to Lewistown for a bit, but when I come back, I’ll help in any way I can. The other men will want to as well. The women too. They’re great at putting together outdoor meals to feed the workers. I reckon men from the other Plain communities will come up too.”
“We’ll all pull together. I have no doubt about it. I need to get back and tell DeeDee. I have an architect friend who’ll draw up some new plans for me. Maybe a little smaller now that the older boys are out of the house.” Mike whacked Andy on the back. “Tell that sweet girlfriend of yours not to go too far. We’ll need her services as soon as DeeDee starts cooking again and the boys mess up the new bathrooms.”
Did everyone in the entire town know Andy and Christine were courting? He didn’t dare tell Mike about Ben’s plan. “She’ll be in St. Ignatius for a time, but I know she wants to come back as soon as possible.”
They ran through the list of Kootenai residents as they walked back to the SUV. The dejected, defeated man who’d stood before the ruins of his home had disappeared, replaced by a man filled with anticipation at the possibilities of a new and perhaps better home for his family.
The transformation had been nearly instantaneous. Strong faith renewed hope.
Soaking up the energy of a man much older and wiser, Andy hurried to keep up.
Maybe Ben would see his house standing among the ruins and realize God had wrought a miracle on his behalf. For that reason alone, he and his family should stay.
Christine should stay.
At the truck Andy slid into the back seat and leaned forward to talk to Sal. “Can we run by the Mast property? I’d like to catch Ben if I can.”
“Sure, if you make it quick.” Sal put the SUV in gear and made a three-point turn. “It’s on the way out, but I doubt they’re still there.”
He was wrong. At the Mast house they found Ben, Zeke, and the two younger boys racing to load more furniture and household goods on the back of Deputy Kimberly LaFortune’s Lincoln County pickup truck. The deputy was on the phone, but she waved Sal over while the rest of them rushed to help the Mast men.
Andy strode into the front room after Ben, where Christine’s father pointed to the oak table. “Truth be told, Melba will sleep better tonight knowing this wedding gift from her bruder Phillip made it through the fire.”
“Praise Gott.”
“It’s just a table.” Ben swept his arm around the room. “I feel convicted for allowing such emotion to swell in my heart at seeing these things still intact while others have lost so much—you included.”
“I lost very little. And I praise Gott with you that your home survived.” Andy grabbed one end of the table while Ben took the other. Together they hoisted it and squeezed through the front door. Andy took the lead, walking backward, while Ben guided from behind. “I praise Gott, and I wonder if it’s a message . . . of sorts.”
Ben grunted as Zeke grabbed a side and they hoisted the table onto the truck with Sal pulling from the truck bed. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “What do you mean? A message?”
Andy fought the urge to squirm under the older man’s level stare. He fell into step next to him as Ben headed back for another load. “Are you sure you should move back to Haven? Your house is still here, waiting for you.”
“Your cabin is gone. Is that a message you should leave?”
“Nee.” A point well taken. “I just thought—”
“Gott has a plan for you and for me.” Ben bent over one of the benches that went with the table. Andy grabbed the other end. “It
has nothing to do with buildings surviving or not surviving this firestorm. I’ve prayed long and hard. Melba prayed. We’ve talked to the bishop. This is not a decision I make lightly. You’re young, and you don’t know what it takes to uproot a family and move, but I do. I did it once, and now I do it again. Because I believe it’s for the best.”
Andy might not have uprooted a family, but he’d moved far from his own. He knew how that felt. It had been for the best—at least it seemed so at the time. “I understand.”
“No, but one day you will.”
Andy followed him out the door again. The decision had been made. No more discussion. “Do you still plan to sell the property?”
“I reckon. After we get settled in Haven. It’ll give us a nest egg to help with the community’s medical needs.”
Andy nodded. He shoved his end of the bench into the truck and turned to stare at the house. Built log cabin style, it had grown over the years with the Mast family. Bedrooms had been added and the kitchen and living room enlarged. The shop and barn would have to be rebuilt. All in all, it was a beautiful piece of property.
“We have to go.” Deputy Kim made a wrap-it-up motion.
Sal trotted to his truck. “Let’s head out.”
Instead of taking heed, Ben halted and turned to Andy. “I understand this is a hard thing.” His hoarse voice deepened. “It’s not been easy for any of us.”
Andy swallowed his own emotion. Silently, he fought for control. A deep breath only brought more acrid, smoke-filled air into his aching lungs. “You’ll ask your brother-in-law about taking in Christine?”
“Already done. He’s agreed.”
Relief lightened the burden on Andy’s shoulders. “Might you do one more thing for me?” He swept his arm toward the house that had survived when others had not. “When you’re ready to sell, give me first option?”
For the first time Ben’s grim visage lightened. “It would be nice to know a decent man would be raising his family here.”
It could be Ben’s family as well, if all went according to plan. His daughter. His grandchildren. “Danki.”
“Just don’t wait too long to do the asking.” Ben clapped him on the shoulder. “Women don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Ben squeezed onto the back seat in Kimberly’s truck alongside his youngest son. “We better get moving.”
The deputy wheeled the truck around and took off with a squeal.
“Hey, dude, what’cha waiting for?” Sal beeped his horn. “Let’s go.”
Andy took one last look at the house. It seemed forlorn and abandoned.
Not for long, if he had his way.
7
Eureka, Montana
Everybody Christine knew from West Kootenai, Eureka, and Libby was crammed into Eureka High School’s auditorium. Plus a bunch of people she didn’t know. The community meetings were the fastest way to get news of the fire straight from the horse’s mouth—rather, the Lincoln County sheriff’s and the US Forest Service’s mouths. Rumors ran rampant and emotions ran high now that everyone knew homes had been destroyed in West Kootenai. Sheriff Brody’s simple, straightforward responses to sometimes heated questions seemed to have calmed the seas. They couldn’t get back into their homes yet, but they trusted the sheriff to get them back to their community as soon as he possibly could.
For Christine, it wouldn’t be soon enough. The one person she didn’t see was Andy. She stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck, trying to see over the masses of people exiting the auditorium. No Andy. Surely he didn’t leave without saying goodbye.
Saying goodbye to so many people all at once stung. Mercy would stay in Eureka. She was already teaching again in the garage attached to the home where her family was staying. Same with their English friend Juliette. She was focused on getting a job and winning over her deputy sheriff boyfriend. But Nora was headed to Libby where she would stay with family. Like Christine, she would be away from home and her special friend for the foreseeable future. And like Christine, she found it unsettling.
Not wanting to say goodbye yet, they lingered next to their seats, watching their neighbors stream by. “I feel so selfish being upset about going to St. Ignatius when Mercy won’t have a house to come home to.” Christine scraped a chunk of dried gravy from her otherwise clean apron. Supper had been a quick affair in order to get to the meeting. “Same with Juliette’s house and the Drakes’. I’ve been cleaning those houses for four years. I can’t believe they’re gone.”
“My mudder says Jonah and Elsie are rooted in their faith.” Nora’s tone was matter-of-fact. “They know better than to set too much store by material things. They’ll rebuild and move on. So will the Drakes and Knowles. They have their faith too.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.” The Knowleses had been the first to hire Christine to clean for them—at their daughter Juliette’s insistence no doubt. She and her sister had played softball, been cheerleaders, and played other sports. They were never home to clean. Despite being English, Juliette had been a close friend to all three Plain girls since their toddler days.
“Jah.” As much as Nora might like to hide her emotions, she was simply incapable of it. Sadness permeated her round face and normally perky blue eyes. “I wish I could stay around to make them feel better.”
“Me too.” Father had gathered the children around the picnic table before they left Rexford to confirm his decision to move back to Kansas. They would spend one more night at the campground. Tomorrow she would be in St. Ignatius. Even after returning to Kootenai to find their home still standing, he had no intention of changing his mind.
He’d also called Mother’s brother-in-law, Fergie. He and Aunt Lucy would be happy to take Christine in. “I wish . . .” She glanced around. No one paid the least bit of attention to two Plain girls huddled together in the enormous auditorium. “I thought Andy would’ve asked me to marry him by now. Then we could stay together.”
“He wouldn’t tell you why he has to go to Lewistown?” All three of Christine’s friends had been suitably upset by the news that Andy had made plans to go to his family farm and leave Christine in St. Ignatius, but Nora particularly understood. Her special friend, Levi, would not be with her in Libby. “Why would it be a big secret?”
Christine’s question exactly. “I hope to be able to return to Kootenai eventually, but if Mudder and Daed don’t come back and Andy doesn’t ask me . . . I don’t know what will happen.”
She might never live in her hometown again. The notion was bewildering. Where was God’s plan in that? No one ever accused her of lacking faith. She’d been the first of her friends to be baptized. She never questioned. She never thought of leaving her home and family. She had been content. Now everything she wanted seemed to flee beyond her reach. Even if there had been no fire, she would still be in this predicament. The fire couldn’t be blamed for Father’s decision or for Andy’s. “It’s a three-hour drive by car from St. Ignatius. I’m willing to wait as long as it takes, but I’m afraid distance will make it so much harder.”
“Still, if he wants you to stay in St. Ignatius, he must plan to ask you eventually.” Nora’s pudgy cheeks turned pink at the thought. “What a blessing that would be.”
Surely she was thinking of her Levi and the distance the fire had created for them. “I hope you’re right. He says he’s going home because his father has been sick, but there’s more to it—more that he won’t share with me.”
“Men are so hard to understand.”
Nora’s sage words almost made Christine smile—almost. As friends they’d spent years trying to unravel the mystery of boys. And shared every tidbit of information as they learned it.
“What does Levi say about you leaving? Is he afraid you’ll end up evangelical?” The Libby Amish were different. They’d left Kootenai to worship the way they saw fit. She didn’t know much about it—her parents saw to that—but many of Nora’s extended family mem
bers embraced the new way of thinking while still calling themselves Amish. Christine didn’t understand how that worked. “We never go down there. I think my daed is afraid it’s contagious.”
“Levi says not to worry. Libby’s only an hour away. He’ll come visit as often as he can. And it’s not for long. He’s sure we’ll get the all clear to go home soon. He even joked that I shouldn’t let Groossdaadi teach me how to drive while I’m there. He knows Mammi would never allow it. She clings to the old ways, even when he strays.”
“It must be so hard for her—”
“Look, there’s Henry.” Nora squeezed her plump body past Christine and waved frantically at Andy’s cabinmate. “Hi, Henry, how are you doing?”
The smile on his face slid away. His pace slowed. After a moment he edged into the row of seats where Christine and Nora stood. “Hey, Nora, Christine.”
It would be forward to ask about Andy, but these were difficult, unusual times. They all had a right to be concerned about their neighbors. Nora’s nudge with her elbow indicated what she thought of the situation. Christine took a breath. “I’m sorry about your cabin. Andy told us about it. Is he here with you?”
Henry ducked his head and studied a scab on his knuckle. “He’s not here.”
“I’m surprised. Everyone’s here.” Her cheeks bright pink now, Nora motioned with both hands as if to encompass the entire auditorium. “I would think he’d want to help with the rebuilding.”
“He does.” Henry shifted his gaze to his dirty, scuffed work boots. “He will. After he gets back from Lewistown.”
“Back? He left?”
Finally, Henry’s gaze lifted and met Christine’s. “I thought you knew. John Clemons picked him up yesterday after they returned from Kootenai. Didn’t you see him at the campground?”
“We came into Eureka to buy some basics that we didn’t have time to gather at the house.” Christine steadied her voice. “Find your backbone, child,” Grandma’s voice reminded her. “Masts don’t bawl.” “I guess we missed him.”
