It was the sound of rapidly approaching horses. The hoofbeats were muffled at first; then they shattered the stillness, followed by men's raised voices.
"Fire!"
"The orphanage is burning!"
"Help! Come quickly-there'll be nothing left to save!"
June raced from the tent, threading her way through the crushing crowd. Outside she could smell the deadly smoke.
"Ben!" she shouted.
"Miss June!" Ben was suddenly at her side, eyes wide with fear. "Please don't go. You'll be hurt!"
June raced breathlessly toward the wagon with Ben trailing a few feet behind. "Unhitch the wagon. I can get there faster on horseback. Ben, quickly! Please!"
Ben passed her and quickly unhitched the quarter horse. He picked June up and swung her lithely onto the animal. It was the first time June had ever ridden bareback, but there wasn't time for a saddle.
"Ben-Ben," Ben struggled to get the words out. "Meme-me come, too! I-I-I can help! You need me!"
June glanced at the orange glow along the horizon, then back at Ben's earnest gray eyes. The orphanage needed all the help it could get.
June steadied the prancing horse. "Ben, I do need you. Ride to the orphanage, and help carry water."
"Yes, Miss June! Ben carry water!" Ben ran for a horse, reciting under his breath, "Carry water, lots of water. Hot. Fire!"
"Ben!" June shouted above the roar of panic. "Don't go into the house! You carry buckets of water, OK? Just buckets of water!"
Ben nodded, reciting as he climbed aboard the horse. "Just buck-buck-buckets of water!"
Parker and Simon had to be told. The stretch of rutted road leading to Pine Ridge was dark and frightening. Bending close to the horse's neck, June gave the animal his head.
Galloping into the sleeping camp, she rode to the bunkhouse, shouting, "Parker! Simon! Help!"
A breathless moment passed, and she shouted again, "Parker!"
A lantern flickered to life. June watched the bunkhouse door until she saw Parker stagger out. Roused from a deep sleep, he hitched his suspenders over his shoulder.
"June?" He struggled to focus on her. "What are you doing out here at this time of-?"
"Come quickly," June pleaded. "The orphanage is on fire!"
Parker blindly reached for the big brass bell hanging from the bunkhouse rafters.
Within moments lights flickered in darkened windows, doors burst open, and loggers poured out into the cold night.
Pine Ridge was all but deserted, save for women and children, when June led a large contingency to the fire.
Horses galloped through the night, hooves pounding.
Simon rode up beside June. "Where's Sam?"
"At the orphanage! She stayed home with the children tonight!"
Skirting her horse, Simon rode ahead.
When the riders arrived at the orphanage, Sam and the children huddled beneath blankets on the road, tearfully watching the old two-story house go up in flames. Though neighbors, along with Joe, Ben, Isaac, and the men from the congregation, had tried to contain the fire, they were powerless against the flames. All anyone could do was watch helplessly as the fire raged, flames angrily eating up the weathered lumber.
June bit back tears of anger. What would the children do now? Hadn't they been through enough? Was there no end to their misfortune?
"Ow, June," Sam blubbered. "Me old auntie's gone, the orphanage is gone-where is this merciful God that's always so good to everyone-where is he, June?" She pounded June's chest, her voice a raised wail.
"Come on now," Simon said, gently prying her away. "This isn't June's fault, Sam. You know that."
Sam dissolved against him in tears and allowed Simon to lead her away.
Reverend Inman was making his way through the chaotic scene, trying to still the younger children's cries. In the midst of the disaster someone remembered to thank God that their lives had been spared.
"Oh, Parker," June whispered as he appeared at her side. He was covered in soot, his clothes singed from going too near the flames. "What's going to happen to those children?"
Drawing her into his arms, he held her close. The front of his shirt dampened with her tears.
With the fire clearly out of control, Reverend Inman took hold of the situation. He dispersed men to gather up frightened children and load them into waiting wagons.
"There's nothing more we can do," he said. "I'll take them to the complex for the night. Tomorrow we'll make proper arrangements."
June couldn't find her voice. What proper arrangements? The only home they knew had burned. Aunt Angeline was dead. No one wanted the orphans on their hands.
Holding June close, Parker questioned Reverend Inman. "Is there room enough at the complex?"
"Ettie will make room."
"We can take a few back to camp with us."
Reverend Inman looked to June for permission.
"No, they should be together-especially tonight."
"They'll be taken to the complex. Workers are waiting to see to their needs. You and Sam must come too."
June wiped her eyes. The matter was no longer in her control. It never had been. "I'll get Sam."
The men were downcast as they walked away from the charred remains. Ben helped load children into the wagons and cover them with blankets.
As the pitiful caravan rumbled off into the night, whimpers were heard from frightened children as big, gruff loggers held them tightly in their arms and tried to comfort them.
Papa's words thundered in June's head.
There's a reason and due season.
Sometimes he comes through on the brink of the midnight hour.
Nothing is left to chance.
He knows our needs before we ask.
Though he sometimes makes us wait, it's all part of his plan.
Remember, June, as big as our dreams are, they can't compare to what he has in store for us. We can't out-dream him, any more than we can out give him. He'll always give us his best. He's never late, Daughter. No matter the hour, he's always right on time.
Kicking a smoldering piece of wood out of the way, June was assaulted by doubt. Where was God tonight? Why had he heaped even more trouble on poor, defenseless children? The strange sense of faltering belief left a bitter taste in her mouth.
"What are you thinking?" Parker asked, drawing her aside.
"That I don't know about God, Parker. All my life I've trusted, believed that, no matter what, he was there to look after us. Why would God let something this unspeakable happen? Haven't Sam and I fought hard enough just to keep shoes on the kids' feet and a roof over their heads? Why did God have to go and burn down the orphanage?"
"You know, June," Parker said, hesitating only slightly, "I can understand how you feel. When God took Eli, it didn't make any sense to me. But we may not always understand God's way. We have to trust that he sees the big picture, and then say, `In his own way, God knows what's best for all his children."'
"Right now I'm finding that very hard to do."
Parker avoided her eyes and went on. "The situation here at the orphanage was impossible. Sam has tried to make a rundown house a home for-how many children? She couldn't run this place alone. She's lost Angeline, and Joe's old. The fight to build that blasted tabernacle and keep the orphans clothed and fed is draining the whole community. With the orphanage gone, the settlement will have no choice. They will have to do something with the children."
June felt her hackles rise. "Why don't you just come out and say what you mean, Parker, instead of reciting all these nice platitudes?"
Parker sobered. "I've said what I mean. You're not thinking straight. You can't run an orphanage on a hope and a prayer, June."
"Well, I can, Parker. And I'll fight with every last breath in me to see that those children are not packed up and carted off like some abandoned livestock. They aren't pieces of property! They are God's children."
A muscle tightened in Parker's jaw. "What God?"
She kicked at another ember. "You know I didn't mean what I said a minute ago. I'm just mad at God right now-it doesn't mean I believe for one moment that he isn't here, watching this whole fiasco."
June's emotions were running the full gamut. She was tired, frustrated, heartbroken. When the full meaning of Parker's earlier statement hit her, she seethed.
There was no mistaking his underlying meaning. He wasn't just glad to be free of the orphanage, he was glad to be getting rid of her. He knew that the only thing keeping her here was the orphanage. He was feeling pure-andsimple-relief?
He cocked a brow and looked at her. "What?"
June Kallahan, the mail-order bride from Cold Water, Michigan, no longer had a reason to stay in Seattle. In Parker Sentell's hair.
Well, Eli Messenger might be dead. The orphanage might be smoldering ashes. Her part in Reverend Inman's dream might be over, but she still had her pride. She backed away.
Anger left her speechless. She would not let Parker see her cry; she would not! She had foolishly fallen in love with him, and now look what happened.
In love.
The thought hit her harder than Parker's betrayal.
She was in love with Parker; she had been for weeks. Why hadn't she realized it? For some time now, she'd known he wasn't like any other man she'd ever met. He didn't have Eli's sensitivity or easy kindness, but she loved him all the same.
Parker shifted stances, his anger evident now. "Where are you going? Just once I'd like to have a conversation with you that didn't end in a disagreement June-"
She hadn't realized how slippery the ground beneath her was. Papa's stern, "Pride goeth before a fall," flashed through her mind as she felt her feet fly from under her.
Parker reached out to break her fall, but it was too late. The next thing June knew, she was lying facedown in the mud.
She groaned, clamping her eyes shut in humiliation. Why must she always behave like a bumbling fool in front of him? She rolled to her back to see Parker standing over her, grinning.
"What's so funny?"
"You are." He took her by the arm and set her on her feet. Using his handkerchief, he wiped mud out of her nose. "You're a pretty sight."
June jerked her arm free. "You've made your feelings perfectly clear, Mr. Sentell-stop wiping my nose!" She yanked the handkerchief out of his hand and threw it on the ground. "I don't need your help!"
"You need somebody's help." Parker crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. "What's wrong with you? Surely you don't blame God and me for starting the fire."
Her tears got the best of her. How could he be so nice one minute and so-so blasted infuriating the next? "I don't blame you for anything," she cried. Tears started down her cheeks.
"June-" His stance softened. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Look, I'm sorry about the fire-I'd have done anything to prevent it, but it's over. The orphanage is gone, but the children are alive and well. You should be thanking God instead of accusing him of being in cahoots with me."
June swung around, searching for her horse. Where could he be? Someone had taken him, or the animal had tired of waiting and headed back to camp on its own. Whatever the reason, it was just more bad luck, the same bad luck that had plagued her from the moment she stepped off the steamer in Seattle three months earlier.
There was only one thing to do. Walk. And she certainly wasn't looking forward to that. It was pitch dark, she had no lantern, and the crusade camp was a long, long way from the orphanage.
Gathering her muddy skirt, she struck out.
"Hey!" Parker fell into step with her. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Back to the complex."
"I don't think so-not by yourself, you're not."
"Ahh, ahh, ahh! Watch it! You sound concerned, and we both know that's not possible. I can take care of myself just fine, thank you."
June kept walking without a single look in his direction.
"Is that right?"
"That's right."
"Those are mighty brave words for a woman who can't even find her horse."
"I know exactly where my horse is." June kept walking although at the moment she couldn't see her hand in front of her face and she didn't know where that silly horse had gone.
She was suddenly walking alone, and she felt a shiver of anticipation. Well, fine. She'd known he was a cad from the beginning.
In the distance, she heard approaching hoofbeats.
"Give me your hand," Parker said dryly from atop his perch on the stallion.
"No."
"Give me your hand, June. Don't make me get off this horse and put you on this animal."
"Parker Sentell, don't you dare threaten me!"
His snort made it clear he was put out with her behavior. "I'm not going to leave you out here in the middle of nowhere. And I am not riding this horse behind you as you walk!"
June's footsteps slowed. It was awfully dark out here. Something hooted in the distance. And she glimpsed something with big yellow eyes....
She could accept his ride, she reasoned. But she didn't have to talk to him.
"Are you going to get on this horse?"
Glaring up at him, she reached for a hand up. When he hoisted her up behind him, she teetered on the saddle.
"I don't bite," he said dryly.
Catching him around the waist, she latched on. "Well, I do."
He laughed, and touched his heels to the horse's flanks.
She needed time to think and sort her emotions. She must leave Seattle! She must go to be with people who loved her. Family that she didn't have to second-guess all the time. It was time to visit Faith. A weight lifted from her chest. Yes, she would go to Deliverance, Texas, to see her sister and meet her new brother-in-law. She had to get away.
She had had all she wanted of Seattle, and of Parker Sentell.
Chapter Fifteen
JUNE stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror. How had her life gotten so complicated? What seemed like a lifetime ago, she'd sat with her sisters in Aunt Thalia's parlor and felt proud of herself. Proud that she would no longer be a burden to her aunt, proud to be going west to marry an upstanding man who shared her faith. Now here she was, back in her old room in Reverend Inman's complex. Sam was in another area. Townsfolk had agreed to help with the children until arrangements for them could be made.