“Lucy,” the little boy said. The child turned in Royce’s arms and pointed under the bed. “She won’t come out,” he sobbed.
Royce did not wait for the boy to say more. He took hold of the bedstead and drug the bed across the floor until another white ghostly figure appeared underneath.
“No. No. No,” the child squealed as Royce reached for her. Lucy came off the floor kicking and screaming as Royce lifted the child in his arms. The beams overhead groaned as the tree settled deeper into the room. Royce ducked his head as debris fell from the roof. Glancing up he could see flames shooting into the sky. The smoldering tree had sparked into flames.
The little girl kept screaming as Royce headed from the room towards the top of the stairs. He felt the heat of the flames and heard the roar as the house caught fire and went up like a tinderbox.
“Close your eyes,” Royce told the children bringing them close against his chest. His wounded shoulder was burning jabs of pain still he held on to Lucy. The child was kicking and screaming and wiggling to get free. Royce never before realized how difficult it was to hold onto a frightened two year old.
He stumbled down the stairs stopping once to hoist Lucy back into his arms. The child had managed to wiggle out of his grip. He grabbed the back of the girl’s nightgown and held her suspended in air as he rushed down the remaining steps. The room below was in total darkness. He bumped into a table and sent it toppling. The room was filling up with smoke. The boy was coughing. Lucy’s wails were interrupted by bouts coughing.
Royce felt cold air coming through the open front door and blindly headed in that direction. The roar overhead strengthened as timbers crashed around him. The boy hugged him tight around the neck choking off his breath. His lungs burnt while the pain in his shoulder was numbing his hand holding onto Lucy’s nightgown.
Bursting through the front door Royce took a deep breath of cleaning air. Everyone had moved back away from the house. Royce stumbled across the lawn and went to his knees. Hands reached for Lucy. “Shush,” a women’s voice whispered. Royce looked up and saw Faith hugging Lucy. “You are safe,” Faith soothed as she rocked the child gently back and forth. Mrs. Gaines reached for the boy and Royce released him into the woman’s caring arms.
“Mama,” the boy wailed looking back at the house now engulfed in flames.
Royce felt the painful thud of his heart. Was someone still inside the house. He turned and knew it was hopeless to try and find out. Royce read the answer on Faith’s tragic face and bowed his head. He drew in deep breaths and felt tears on his cheeks. A lost life was never an easy burden to carry. “You did your best,” Faith said touching Royce’s shoulder. “You saved Lucy and Pete.”
“I didn’t know,” Royce whispered and leaned his head against Faith’s hip. Her warmth spread like wildfire through his soul and revived him.
Another house smoldered into flames. Shooting sparks into the sky. Bits of red ash floated to earth and people started slapping at their clothing. The house across the street roared into flames. Everyone ran down the block to get away from the heat and flames.
“We will take Lucy and Pete home with us,” Mary Gaines said. “This is no place for children.” As she spoke the Church Bell began ringing again. “Imogen has opened the church for women and children to take shelter. They will need blankets and hot drinks.”
“Royce, be careful my Darling,” Faith whispered before turning away. Her heart tapped rapidly at the boldness in which she had addressed Royce while fearing for his safety. The man she loved had not hesitated before running into the house to save Lucy and Pete. What other hazards awaited him before the fires could be put out. She would not think of this now, Faith admonished as she followed her mother home through the light rain.
Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning lit the sky. Lucy grabbed Faith around the neck. The child sobbed as she hid her face. “It is alright,” Faith whispered. “You are safe.”
“No. No. No,” Lucy sobbed, her voice rising in fear.
“Shush,” Faith whispered kissing Lucy on the forehead. “You know me,” Faith insisted. She began to sing softly knowing what hymn Lucy would know and recognize. Giving the child something that was familiar in a time of tragedy. Lucy tightly hugged Faith around the neck clinging to her as Lucy shivered with cold.
In the Gaines’ parlor Mary sat Pete on the sofa next to Faith. The boy scooted as close to Faith as he could, leaning against her shoulder. Mary shook out a crocheted coverlet and wrapped it around Pete and Lucy. “There is so much to do,” Mary said distracted.
“You go on,” Faith replied. “I can see to Lucy and Pete. As soon as we stop shivering we will make hot chocolate to drink.”
“You need to get the children out of their wet clothes,” Mary said hurrying from the room.
“I will Mother,” Faith called wondering if her mother had heard. The backdoor banged shut and her mother was gone.
Faith carried Lucy and led Pete by the hand into the kitchen. She pulled two chairs up close to the stove and sat the children down on them. “Don’t touch,” she advised motioning towards the stove. Her teeth were chattering against one another as she opened the door to the firebox and fed in wood.
Lucy hunched her shoulders as she shook with cold. The child’s brown hair was soaking wet and dripping water. Her skin looked blue. Pete pulled his crocheted coverlet over his head and bent his knees and rested the soles of his feet against the chair seat. The poor boy shook violently.
“The room will be warm in a minute,” Faith said reaching for
