Sam watched on for a moment, a low anger kindling in his eyes.
As he slunk back into the kitchen, I heard Mama light into him, her ire spitting out in whispered hisses.
“Samuel Elazar Downing, what on earth were you thinking? Bedding Rebecca Danforth? And abandoning her? Mark my words, we’re setting this right.”
“Mama, I—”
Merry entered the sitting room, carrying a tray of glasses and a pitcher of sun tea. She almost tripped over the threshold, peering back to watch the turmoil. She winced, seeing whatever Mama had done to stop Sam’s protest.
Sadie skipped into the room, twirling about in her best pinafore before stopping short. “Oh, Papa, your face! Does it hurt? Did Mr. Danforth do all that?” She stole a quick glance toward the kitchen. “Did Sam?” She froze, suddenly noticing the stranger in the room. “Who are you?”
“Merry, Sadie,” I said. “This is Whitaker Price.”
The flowers woke me first, quietly tiptoeing into my sleep and casting a sweet floral filter over everything. I felt myself smile, breathing in the soft bouquet.
Then came the smoke.
Black, burning, and unforgivably present, it wafted in with an acrid bite, curdling my dreams into nightmares. My eyes flashed open and instantly watered as I stared into the rafters.
Was that shouting?
I kicked my legs over the side of the bed, slowly coming back to consciousness. It was surprisingly bright outside, and I briefly worried I’d overslept. But my sisters still dozed next to me, and I could hear soft snorts from Samuel’s corner.
Why was it so bright?
I stumbled out of bed to peer outside, and gasped. An apocalyptic landscape greeted me, burning so many shades of orange and red and hot white. Flames licked the sky, reaching higher and higher as if to devour the world whole.
The flower fields were on fire.
“Sam! Sam!” I cried out, desperate to wake my brother.
“What is it?” he grumbled, wincing as I threw back the curtain. A shaft of that awful orange light fell across him, and he held up his hands, shielding his eyes. “Why is it so bright?”
“Fire! The fields are on fire!”
“What’s going on?” Merry asked with a groan.
“We have to get water. The flowers are burning! Sadie, wake up!”
Sam sprung out of bed, grabbing at his pants and socks.
“There’s no time for all that! We’ve got to tell Mama and Papa!” I was already halfway down the stairs.
Their room was empty, the sheets shoved to the foot of the bed in a hurried tangled mess. Through their window, I spotted Papa’s form, silhouetted black against the firelight, kicking dirt at the edge of the flames.
My boots were at the back door, and I shoved my feet in, not bothering with the laces, before flying into the night. My nightdress glowed bright gold, bathed in the light of the climbing flames. I should have been riddled in gooseflesh, but the fires threw off so much heat that it felt like a warm afternoon.
“We need to keep the fire from leaving the fields,” Papa said as I joined him. His voice rasped, harsh and metallic. He’d breathed in too much smoke. “We haven’t had rain in weeks. If even one spark gets into the grass…”
He stomped out a patch of fire, but I knew what he would have said. If the fire broke free, it was a quick path to the house, to the supply shed, and to our hives. The buildings could be rebuilt, but we needed to protect the bees at all costs.
“Your mother is at the pump. She’s been filling buckets but I can’t leave to get them.” He flung a blanket at a new bank of flames. For every one he smothered, it seemed two more popped up in its place.
“I’ll take over there,” I assured him. “Sam and Merry and Sadie are on their way.”
I raced across the side yard, the tops of my boots flapping wildly and catching at the hem of my nightgown. It had seemed like a waste of precious seconds to tie them, but now I worried I’d trip and snap an ankle, and then what help would I be?
“Ellerie, thank God,” Mama cried out. Three buckets already full of water circled the pump. “They’re too heavy for me to lift, and I just—” She bent over, gasping for air.
“I’m here to help. Stop and rest. Sam!” I hollered, seeing him on the porch, struggling with his boots. “Water is here! We need you!” I turned back to Mama and grabbed at the next empty bucket to fill. “What happened?”
She leaned over, her hands on her knees. “I can keep going….You should help Gideon….I just need a moment.”
“Mama, I’ve got it.”
“At first I thought lightning must have struck, but there’s no rain.” She panted, drawing air sharply between each word. “Please, God, send us rain!” She clutched at her side with a grimace.
“Rest, Mama. Sam will get these to Papa.”
I cranked the handle up and down, drawing water from deep in the well.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked as he joined us.
“Heat lightning, maybe,” I said around each pump. “We need to soak the yard, contain the flames. Bring these to Papa.”
With a nod, he hoisted two buckets up, then carried them to the burning fields. His ankle still bothered him, and as he limped across the wide yard, I fought the urge to leave. Mama would only take up the pump again, and I feared she’d already placed too much stress on the baby.
Merry and Sadie slipped out into the yard and immediately went looking to see where they were needed most.
Wind whipped across the valley, warm and worrisome as it fed the flames, twisting them into little spinning cyclones of ash and embers.
“Mama, they need more buckets. I’ll take this set over,” I decided, already worrying over my decision. “I’ll send Merry to help fill more. Please, please rest.”
“I need to do something,” she insisted.
“There are warming blankets in the supply shed,” I said, grabbing on to the idea. “We can use them to beat back the flames. Do you think you can make it there and back?”
Mama swallowed back exhaustion and rushed off, holding her belly with a firm hand.
I picked up two buckets and made my way across the yard, trying to not slosh all the water out. Papa met me halfway and took the load, then handed me Sam’s buckets, already empty. “More! We need more!”
I tumbled over on my way back to the pump, tripping on one of my loose laces. With a curse, I tied them into quick knots and went to work, filling the buckets once more. Sam flew out of the darkness, snatched them away, and left more to fill.