Restless Hearts (17 page)

She grasped the back of a kitchen chair, somehow knowing she needed its support. “What is it? What's happened?”

“It's a three-alarm from the Crossroads volunteers. Two companies from Suffolk are responding.” He took a step toward her. “I'm sorry, Fiona. The building that's burning—it's your house.”

She lost a few minutes then, probably from shock. She found herself being propelled toward Gabe's car by Siobhan and Nolie. Nolie gave her a fierce hug.

“I'm sorry I can't come, but someone has to stay with the baby. You're better off with Gabe.”

“It's all right.” Her aunt pushed her gently into the back seat. “Joe and I will be with you. It's going to be all right.”

Was it? As soon as he and his father were settled in the front seat, Gabe took off, lights flashing from the top of the car and a siren wailing in the night.

“I guess it helps to have firefighter relatives at a time like this.” She tried to say the words lightly, but her voice was choked with emotion.

This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. It must have been a mistake.
Please, God
—Somehow she couldn't even find the words to pray.

Aunt Siobhan clasped both her hands, holding them warmly. “Let's pray,” she said softly, and Fiona nodded.

“Father, You know we're in trouble now.” Siobhan's voice was as conversational as if she spoke to a dear friend. “We ask for Your help in this situation. Be with those who are fighting this fire. Grant them Your protection and surround them with Your love. We pray for the preservation of Fiona's practice. She's doing Your healing work in the world, Father. Please be with her and help her now. Amen.”

“Amen,” the men said together from the front seat.

“Amen,” Fiona whispered.

Her aunt's first thoughts had been for the people who were in danger, fighting the fire. Shame filled her that she hadn't thought of them first, too.

Please, Lord, be with them.
Ted would be among them—she knew that as if she were there watching. He'd be a part of the volunteer force.
Please, protect him.

“S
tart wetting down the side and roof of the general store!” Ted shouted the orders to the crew of the tanker truck that had just pulled up at the fire scene. His personal feelings might tell him to direct every weapon toward saving Fiona's house, but as chief of the volunteer fire company, his duty was to the entire community.

His jaw tightened. He'd been telling the township supervisors for years that they needed a new tanker, but no one listened. He wanted to have them here this instant, to see how inadequate their small tanker was. Crossroads was lucky to have good neighboring companies to call on.

Thing was, he was angry at everyone and everything, especially the fire, for what this was going to do to Fiona.

The crew chief, head of one of the other small volunteer companies in the county, nodded. He gestured to his crew to drag the heavy hoses toward the general
store. It was safe at the moment, but a brisk autumn breeze, blowing now toward the rear yards, could switch directions at any moment.

Townsfolk already swarmed into the store, carrying everything they could to safety, and the auxiliary was working just as quickly, setting up coffee and water in the sheltered area in front of the barbershop.

Mac Leonard, one of his volunteers, paused by the rig. Mac's breath was coming too fast. At nearly seventy, he shouldn't be on the fire line, but it was almost impossible to turn away volunteers.

“You want us to try and get anything else out?” Mac nodded toward the meager pile of furnishings they'd pulled out of Fiona's house.

Ted hardened his heart against the thought of Fiona's grief, knowing he couldn't risk lives for her beloved possessions. “No. It's spreading too fast. If those other units from Suffolk get here in time, maybe we can save something else.”

Even as he said the words, he heard the welcome wail of the sirens. Suffolk's professional force provided training and much-needed support to the volunteer companies in the countryside.

The sight of the crews pouring off the hook-and-ladder and tanker he'd requested seemed to energize the volunteers, and a ragged cheer went up. He recognized the company commander headed his way—Seth Flanagan. He'd known Seth in a professional capacity for a couple of years, and now he knew him as Fiona's cousin.

Flanagan's face was tight as he watched smoke pouring from the windows of his cousin's house.

“Fiona wasn't home,” Ted said quickly.

“I know. She's at my brother's. They're on their way now. Where's the water source?”

“Creek about fifty yards behind the house.” He pointed. “Just follow our lines back.”

Flanagan nodded and turned to his crew, giving rapid orders.

Fiona was on her way. His heart twisted. He couldn't kid himself. Seth Flanagan knew as well as he did that the structure was already too involved. All that dry old wood had gone up like so much tinder. They'd give it their best battle, but in the end, they weren't going to save the house.

The fire broke through the front wall, erupting upward as it met the wood of the porch. People gasped, stopping to watch, faces somber.

One of the men on the hose line stumbled, and Ted leaped forward to drag him away.

“Take a break,” he urged. He grabbed the line himself until another volunteer came forward to take his place.

He'd barely turned away from the hose when a stir went through the crowd. A car pulled up, stopping just beyond the tanker. People spilled out the doors. In the eerie orange glow of the fire, he saw Fiona. Her mouth opened in a cry. She darted toward the building.

Heart pounding, he started to run toward her, but the people who were with her—her relatives, he realized—held her back, surrounding her with loving arms.

Foolish, that instinctive need he'd had to race to her. She had family to take care of her.

An ominous crack sent him spinning back to the fire. “Get back! Everyone back!”

His shout was drowned in the roar as the roof caved in. He did a quick count, making sure his people were safe. He couldn't bear to look at Fiona, but he felt her grief as surely as if he held her in his arms.

The next hour passed in a haze of activity, until finally they were wetting down the embers and he could take stock of the damage. Not good, but he guessed it could have been worse. No one had died. Fiona's house was a total loss, but there hadn't been any damage to the surrounding buildings except for a few broken windows and a layer of soot to be cleaned away.

Still, he didn't suppose Fiona was in any shape to hear that this could have been worse. Her work, her home, had been destroyed. He forced himself to look toward her.

At some time during the past hour, the Stolzfus family had arrived, too. Family from both sides clustered around Fiona, trying to comfort her. His throat, already raw from the smoke, tightened as he saw Fiona folded in the arms of her grandmother and grandfather Stolzfus.

In everything, God works for the good of those who love Him.
It was tough to understand how God was bringing good out of this circumstance, but if a man didn't have faith, he didn't have anything.

Maybe it would cheer Fiona to know that they'd
saved a few things. He bent, picking up the wooden dower box he'd spotted on her dresser when he'd done a sweep of the house, and carried it over to where she stood. The cluster of family members parted, letting him approach.

“Fiona, I'm sorry.” His voice rasped on the words. “I wish we could have saved the house for you.”

She didn't seem to hear him. Her gaze was focused on the smoldering remains of her life, her eyes wide with what he knew was shock. Gabe Flanagan, the cousin he'd met at the farm, put his arm around her shoulders.

“Come on, Fiona. There's nothing you can do here. Let's go back to our place.”

She shook her head, not moving. Gabe looked at him, helpless, clearly not sure what to do. He seemed to be expecting something from Ted.

Small help he could be, but he had to try. “We managed to pull a few things out before it got too bad.”

Fiona still didn't react. He wasn't even sure she heard him.

“This was on your dresser.” He shoved the box into her hands. “I thought it might be important.”

Her hands grasped the box instinctively. She looked at it, and suddenly tears streamed down her face. Her body shook with sobs.

Aghast, he reached for the box, but her grandmother stopped him, shaking her head. “No. This is good. She needs to weep now.”

All he could do was nod and turn away. Fiona didn't
need him—not now that she had the family she'd always wanted.

But as he looked at the smoking rubble, unexpected fury surged through him. The arson squad would be here in the morning, and he'd be right at their heels. He would know the truth about this fire, no matter what.

 

“Maybe you should go back to Crossroads today.” Nolie sat down opposite Fiona at the sturdy pine kitchen table in the farmhouse, her face concerned. “It's been over a week. Wouldn't you at least like to see what things they were able to save from the fire?”

Fiona wrapped her fingers around the steaming mug of tea in front of her, trying to absorb some of its warmth. She stared past Nolie's worried face, out the kitchen window. As if to echo the devastation in her heart, the weather had turned colder, and frost had nipped all but the hardiest flowers in Nolie's garden.

“Not today. Maybe tomorrow I'll go.”

It was the same thing she'd said every day for a week, and Nolie had accepted the words. But her expression grew more worried each day.

“So many people have been asking for you.” Nolie coaxed her as if Fiona were her toddler daughter. “Don't you want to see them?”

Fiona's mind winced away from the thought. To see the people of Crossroads, to see the ruins of the life she'd tried to build there—no, she couldn't. She wasn't ready.

You're hiding, the voice of her conscience said. That's what you always do.

“I can't. Not yet. Not until I've decided what I'm going to do. The birthing center will handle my patients until then.”

That was what kept her frozen, unable to move from the comfortable hiding place she'd found at Gabe and Nolie's farm. What would she do? What could she do?

“You'll rebuild, of course.” Nolie sounded confident. “You own the land, and your insurance—”

She shook her head. “My insurance wasn't enough to cover all that I've lost, and I'd invested everything I had in the practice. In a year, I'd have been out of the red, but as it is—”

As it was, she felt crushed beneath a load of mortgage payments for a house and a business that weren't there any longer.

“Everyone wants to help.” Nolie covered Fiona's hand with hers, and Fiona felt the warmth of her caring. “We'll find a way for you to rebuild. Just tell us what you want to do, and we'll help.”

Her throat tightened. They were all so loving and helpful, these two families she'd so unexpectedly come to call her own. It wasn't fair to hold them hostage to her inability to make up her mind.

“I know. I'm sorry.” Her throat tightened. “I guess I didn't realize how much that place had become home to me until it was gone.” The furniture she'd picked out with such care, the cozy office, the living room Siobhan
and Nolie had helped her paint—all of that was turned to ash. She tried to focus. “I know that's not an excuse to mope around, but I can't seem to get moving.”

The telephone rang. With a sympathetic pat on her hand, Nolie went to answer it. In a moment, she turned back to Fiona, an odd expression on her face.

“It's for you,” she said. “It's your father.”

Fiona gingerly took the phone Nolie held out to her. Maybe Nolie had misunderstood who was calling. Her father hadn't spoken with her in over a month—not since he'd made clear what he thought of her foolish plan to relocate to Pennsylvania. It was as if, once she'd left California, he'd wiped her from his thoughts and his life.

“Hello. Dad?”

“How are you, Fiona?” Her father's voice was unexpectedly gentle. “I heard about the fire. Are you all right?”

“Fine.” Well, she wasn't, but he wouldn't want to hear that. “How did you hear about it?”

“My brother called me.” He cleared his throat. “Funny, to hear his voice after all these years. He sounds well.”

“Yes.” They could have talked to each other at any time in the past twenty-five years, if they weren't both so stubborn, but it wasn't her place to tell him that. “The whole family has been very helpful.”

I've found a place here, Dad, that I never found with you. Why was that? She'd probably never know the answer to that.

“Well, I…” Surprisingly, her confident father sounded unsure of himself. “Your stepmother and I
wanted you to know how sorry we are about your troubles. We want to help. Whether you want to rebuild or come back to California, you can count on us for financial support.”

The offer was so unexpected that her throat closed for an instant. She hadn't asked, or been offered, any help since the moment she'd graduated from college. It had simply been understood that her father had discharged his obligation to her and that she was on her own.

“Thank you.” She managed to get the words out, even though they sounded rather choked. “I—I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do, but I'll be in touch.”

“Good.” Her father's voice had that hearty tone it always took on at any display of emotion. “I'll talk to you soon, then. Goodbye.”

She hung up, knowing the face she turned to Nolie must express her total bewilderment. “Uncle Joe called him. And he wants to help.”

“Well, it's about time.” Nolie's blue eyes shone suddenly with tears. “Siobhan must be so glad that they're talking again, even if it took a disaster to accomplish it.”

Fiona nodded, feeling like smiling for the first time in a week. “At least something good came out of this.”

Her own words startled her, and she blinked. Was she actually able to admit that God was bringing something good out of the grief that overwhelmed her?

The telephone rang again. Shaking her head, Nolie picked up. Her expression changed in an instant. “She'll be right there,” she said.

“What is it?” If this was another effort to get her to Crossroads—

“That was Susie Yoder's neighbor. Susie's in labor. I guess it's time for you to saddle up and get back to delivering babies.”

Fiona could only stare blankly at Nolie. “But I—I referred Susie to the birthing clinic in Suffolk. I thought she was going to go there.”

“The neighbor says she's determined about this, and Aaron can't budge her. She's having her baby at home, and you're going to deliver it.”

“I don't have anything. My delivery kit was in the house.”