"Make him stay here," Chris told her. "The pain hasn't set in yet so he thinks he's okay but he's not."
He sprang to his feet and ran to help the other men throwing buckets of water from the water trough onto the fire. It seemed like hours, but only minutes later, Chris heard sirens heading toward the farmhouse. The local volunteer fire department arrived and began unfurling their hoses and spraying water on the blaze.
Paramedics grabbed their bags and ran to Eli. Relieved of his firefighting detail by those more experienced, Chris walked over to watch them check Eli's vitals, insert an IV, and do some preliminary treatment of the burns.
Though Eli protested, they placed him on a gurney and took him to a waiting ambulance. The vehicle pulled away, siren blaring, and raced down the road.
Chris stood with Matthew, Jenny, and Hannah and watched as the men extinguished the fire. A large gaping hole showed in the side of the barn, the edges of the wood blackened and smoking. The stench of smoke lingered on the air.
"Thank goodness the horses were out in the field," Hannah told Matthew as she rubbed his back with her hand.
Matthew had the look of a shell-shocked soldier in the field.
"I don't understand what happened," he said. "Did Eli say what happened?"
Jenny put her hand on her husband's arm. "He was in shock."
"I should go to the hospital and see how he is."
A man separated himself from the group of firemen who were talking and walked over to them.
"Are you the property owner?" he asked Matthew.
"Yes."
"I understand you heard some kind of loud noise before the barn caught on fire? Any idea what could have caused it?"
"No, I don't understand it, we're careful, all of us, with what we do and what we store in the barn."
The man nodded and looked at the barn. "They're always a problem. Wood structure, hay, equipment . . ."
He flipped open a pocket on his shirt, dug out a small notebook and pen and jotted something down. Then he glanced up at them.
"I'll be back tomorrow when things cool down to look around some more. Keep everyone out, okay? Don't want anyone messing with evidence, just in case."
The firefighters loaded their hoses onto the truck, climbed aboard, and drove away.
"Evidence?" Hannah said, frowning. "What does he mean by that?"
"I'm sure it's nothing," Jenny reassured her. "No one around here would deliberately set fire to our barn. Come on, Matthew, let's borrow my grandmother's buggy and go to the hospital to see about Eli."
They started to walk away and then Jenny stopped and clapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Hannah, the children will be home from school soon. Can you—"
"Don't worry about a thing," Hannah said quickly. "I'll take care of everything."
After they left, Chris walked over to the barn.
"He said not to go near it—"
Waving a hand at her, Chris moved a little closer and peered into the blackened barn. The family buggy had collapsed into a heap of burned rubble; the horse stalls still smoked. Farm tools were blistered by the heat of the fire. The table where Chris had worked on the engine lay broken in many pieces on the dirt floor.
He wondered if the structure might be safe enough to repair it or if it would have to be torn down and rebuilt. Well, it would have to wait until they were finished harvesting. Getting the crops in had to be first. No matter what happened, the family depended on the money they would bring in.
Sighing, he shook his head. Something nagged at him, something he couldn't put his finger on.
"I'm making some kaffi," Hannah said. "Do you want some?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, that would be great. Thanks."
He followed her back inside. The remains of their dinner lay on the table, sandwiches dropped on plates and cups on their side amidst a puddle of coffee.
"Oh," Hannah said, then she looked at him. "I should have thought to ask you . . . we'd barely started eating. You must still be hungry. I'll fix you something."
He shook his head. "I'm not hungry. Are you?"
She pressed a hand against her stomach. "No, I couldn't eat.Not after seeing what happened to Eli—" she shuddered.
Chris picked up a plate, scraped the contents into the trash can, and put it into the sink. He noticed that she didn't tell him that she'd do it and to sit down because he was a guest.Clearly, she'd been rattled by what had happened.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she dumped the cold coffee in the sink, filled up the percolator with fresh water, and measured out ground coffee. She set the percolator on the stove, turned on the flame, and sighed as she looked around the kitchen.
"You're sure you're not hungry? I can warm up the soup, make new sandwiches."