Valley Glen, Indiana,
1868
"Fire!"
Sarah opened her eyes, blinking at the black night around her as her eyes tried to adjust. She yawned and stretched her hands high over her head. Someone had just been yelling at her in her dreams. She couldn't remember what the voice had said, but it had frightened her enough to wake her up.
She looked around the bedroom she shared with her sisters just to make sure all was as it should be. She could not shake her uneasy feeling. The wooden shutters stood open to let in a cool breeze, just as her parents had left them before saying goodnight. Their father had taken the time this evening to tell them a bedtime story. The one about the hare and the tortoise. It was a favorite of her youngest sister's. They had all fallen asleep not long after.
Their parents were not wealthy by any means, but their father had spent a dozen years building up this farmhouse so that it was more than just a few sticks held together with mud. Each of the children had their own bed, despite having to share one room. Many of the farm girls Sarah knew were envious of her situation. She was proud of her father, who had built everything by his own hand.
Sarah's nose wrinkled as an unidentified smell hit her nostrils. She let out a slight cough and realized something was very wrong.
The breeze coming through the window seemed to be warming the room instead of cooling it. Their room was sweltering. Their room was also lighter than it should have been. The night sky was still dark; she could see it clearly through their window. It must have been well after midnight. Yet their bedroom was bright, as if a soft candle glow was coming in from under their door, filling it.
"Fire!" a voice shouted, and Sarah recognized it as the voice from her dreams. Only she was not dreaming.
"Tom?" she asked, crinkling her forehead. She must have misheard him. Perhaps he was dreaming, too, calling out from a nightmare from which he could not wake. There was certainly no fire here. She was in her bed, as were her sisters. Their parents were across the house in their own room. If there was a fire, then she would see flames. Their parents would be running to put it out, to wake them and carry them outside.
The bedroom door suddenly swung wide, and their oldest brother Tom ran inside. He grabbed Sarah's covers and pulled them off. Sarah squealed and curled her legs to her chest. She was still in her nightdress.
"Tom!" she yelled. "What are you—"
"Get up," he yelled at her. He turned toward the beds her sisters occupied. "Carrie! Harriet! Get up!" He pulled the covers off each of them in turn.
Harriet raised herself up on her elbows and looked at Tom. Carrie rubbed at her eyes, her thumb pink and wet from where she'd been sucking on it. It was a bad habit their mother was still trying to break her of.
"What's wrong?" Harriet mumbled.
"FIRE!" Tom said again, and this time the girls became alert.
A thin line of gray mist began to trickle into their room like an ethereal hand reaching out for them. Sarah's heart began to pound as she suddenly realized the strange, acrid smell that had swum up her nostrils only moments before was smoke.
"Where are Mother and Father?" she asked.
"I don't know," Tom said. "I went to their room but they weren't there. They must be fetching water. Help me get the girls out."
Sarah rushed to gather her six- and eleven-year-old sisters. "Cookie," Carrie said, reaching back toward her bed. Sarah grabbed the stuffed bear their mother had made for her. She handed it to Carrie, who clung to it like it was the last bit of food in the house.
"Where's Henry?" Harriet demanded, folding her arms across her chest. "I won't leave without him." Sarah sighed. Henry and Harriet were almost inseparable. Twins usually were, according to their mother.
"He's already outside," Tom said. "I told him to go help Mother and Father. They will need all of our help to put the flames out."
"I want Mommy," Carrie said, starting to cry. She moved toward the door. Tom blocked her path, scooping her into his arms before she could make her escape.
That's when Sarah felt the heat. A wave of it rushed through the doorway, burning her lungs. She was almost too afraid to look. Orange and red flames had appeared out of nowhere, licking at their room. Harriet screamed and kicked the door shut but the smoke still trickled in under it.
"We'll leave through the window," Tom said, taking control. As the eldest, he had the right to. Sarah was glad it wasn't her. She had no idea what to do. She was fourteen and had been helping her mother prepare fires in the kitchen for years now, but this was far beyond the normal cooking fire.
"I'm not going through the window," Harriet screeched, looking at Tom as if he'd lost his mind.
"You'll do as I say," Tom snapped, setting Carrie back on her feet and pushing them all toward the window. He was usually softer with his sisters but there was no time for softness just now.
Harriet looked outside and saw Henry standing in the front yard. He waved frantically up at her. Sarah looked out. She could see the bottom half of their home consumed in flames except for the small portion where Henry stood watching with terrified eyes.
"Where are Mother and Father?" Sarah cried out.
"I don't know," Henry shouted. "I couldn't find them. Hurry!" Seeing him seemed to soothe Harriet. She climbed quickly through the window, stepping onto the low hanging roof. She made her way to the edge, where Henry had already placed a ladder from their barn. Harriet climbed down with ease. In the distance, lanterns were heading toward them through the fields. Their neighbors must have seen the flames and come to help.
"You go out next," Tom said to Carrie, who was crying.
"I'll be right behind you," Sarah told her. The flames had broken through the door now. Smoke stung her eyes. They were all coughing. Where were their parents? Why were they not here, helping them? A bad feeling prickled at the back of her neck.
She turned back toward Tom. "Are you sure Mother and Father are outside?"
She didn't like the look in Tom's eyes or the silence that followed. She could not leave the house without knowing where her parents were. She opened her mouth to tell Tom as much when Carrie screamed. The flames suddenly spurted into their room, catching their dresser on fire. Tom picked Carrie up and practically threw her through the window. Sarah quickly followed. She could feel Tom at her heels as they made their way to the ladder.
Their neighbors finally reached them, though Sarah realized now that even with their help the house was going to fall to ruins. There was not one piece of it, save for the small part they had just exited from, that was left untouched by the flames. The Gillersons and the Butlers ran toward them, helping Sarah off the ladder. They ushered them all away from the farmhouse as it began to crumble.
"Where are your folks?" Ted Gillerson asked, running a hand through his hair. The flames were making him sweat.
Sarah and Tom looked at each other.
"I checked their room," Tom finally said. "I didn't see them." His voice cracked. "They must be out here somewhere. Father has a hard time sleeping, at times. He and Mother may have gone walking."
"Sometimes they sit in the parlor," Harriet chimed in. "I've found them asleep there on more than one morning."
Bill Butler's brow furrowed.
"We'll find them," Ted said, looking at his eldest son with a worried expression. "Take Bill and go around to the other side. Maybe they got out the back way." Danny nodded and did as his father said. A few minutes later, he returned empty handed. Ted raised his eyebrows, but Danny only shook his head.
Tom fought back tears. Sarah took his hand and squeezed it. "They might still be out there in the fields." She was trying to comfort him but knew she was failing. She did not even believe her own words. Tom squeezed her hand back and looked at his younger siblings, who were all crying now. Even Henry.
"Where will we sleep?" Harriet asked.
"What will happen to us?" Henry cried.
Tom placed one hand on Sarah's shoulder, looking intensely at her. She nodded, understanding that their lives had just changed. It would be up to her and Tom now. They huddled with Carrie, Henry, and Harriet.
"I won't let anything happen to any of you," Tom promised.
"Nor will I," said Sarah.
"I'll keep our family together, no matter what," Tom said, biting back the tears that tried to rise out of him.
"And Tom won't have to do it alone," Sarah said, attempting one last bit of comfort for her sixteen-year-old brother. Her own tears had finally begun to fall.
"We will stay together, no matter what," Tom said.
"No matter what," agreed Sarah.
* * *