Page 68 of If the Boot Fits

Her hand touched his arm, and all he wanted to do was tug her to him and hold on tight. Instead, he followed her to the fallen form of Parson Hopewell. His wife knelt on the rug at his side. Nudging past her, Asher moved to the man’s head, flipped him onto his back, then slid his hands under the parson’s arms and dragged him toward the window.

Church bells pealed outside. Good. Help was coming. But so was the fire. A chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling and smashed into the settee. Samantha squealed, then grabbed her aunt’s hand and hurried her toward the window. Asher glanced at the ceiling and scowled when flames licked through the hole.

They didn’t have much time before the entire ceiling came down on their heads.

“Climb out.” Asher met Samantha’s eye and jerked his chin toward the window. “I’ll need you to help me with your uncle.”

She nodded and ducked through the opening. The minute she disappeared over the sill, his chest lightened. He turned back to her aunt.

“Now you, ma’am.” He released his hold on the parson to offer Mrs. Hopewell a hand. She didn’t look too steady. “I’ll help you.”

She clasped his arm, obviously reluctant to leave her husband. Finally, she moved to the window and sat on the sill. Her eyes found Asher’s. “God bless you.”

Not knowing what to say to that, he dipped his chin and protected her head with his hand as she bent through the opening. Samantha took her arm from the other side and steadied her descent.

Asher met Samantha’s gaze. “Get her away from the smoke.”

She nodded and led her aunt away from the house. Asher turned back to the parson. Thanking God Obadiah Hopewell was a slender man, Asher grabbed fistfuls of nightshirt, hefted him onto the windowsill, then pushed him through the opening. Mumbling an apology, Asher climbed out after him, taking care not to step on the poor man’s head. Once out, he grabbed the man under his arms and hauled him toward the street. Samantha appeared at his side, ready to assist.

As soon as they cleared the smoke, Asher laid the parson down beside his wife so she could tend him, then turned to the woman he’d nearly lost.

Not caring who might see, he clasped Samantha to his chest and held on tight. Tears stung his eyes.

She fell against him, her arms wrapping around his back, as all the terror she’d experienced poured out of her in ragged sobs. “Thank God you came.”

Asher turned bleary eyes toward the sky, looking to the moon that glowed in the darkness. A vise tightened around his chest, keeping the relief he should feel from seeping inside.

This wasn’t over.

God help them. Any man willing to burn three innocent people alive wouldn’t stop coming after Samantha until she was dead.

31

It took two hours for the volunteer firefighters manning the pump wagon and the neighbors with buckets and wet blankets to fully extinguish the fire. Samantha had tried to help, but Asher insisted she stay with her aunt and uncle, and even then, she’d felt his watchful gaze on her, as if he worried someone might emerge from the crowd and steal her away.

Or maybe her own fears were coloring her perceptions. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her bed engulfed in flames. What had she done to make someone hate her so?

Thank God Aunt Regina and Uncle Obadiah were all right. Someone had fetched Dr. Abbott, and he had examined the three of them. After encouraging them to move farther away from the smoke, he’d listened to their lungs and hearts and prescribed a great deal of rest, clean air, and a pile of lemon drops to soothe their scalded throats. He ordered Uncle Obadiah not to preach for two weeks, but Uncle only promised him one, teasing the doctor about trying to shorten Sunday services with an overzealous prescription.

Once the immediate danger passed, her aunt and uncle’s cheerful demeanors gradually resurfaced. It truly was remarkable. The way they smiled and thanked their neighbors for helping, all while everything they owned turned to rubble and ash.

People began making their way back to their homes. Volunteer firefighters shut down the steam pump, packed up their gear, and drove the fire wagon back toward the heart of town. The jangle of harnesses and clopping of hooves faded as the team turned down a side road and disappeared from view. As the commotion diminished, a somber emptiness expanded in Samantha’s chest.

Such devastation. Because of her. Oh, she knew it wasn’t really her fault. The man who’d started the blaze was to blame. Yet she couldn’t escape the knowledge that her aunt’s house would still be standing if she hadn’t been sheltering beneath its roof. A roof that had fallen in, collapsing the second story and making the residence completely unlivable.

Aunt Regina, still dressed in her nightgown and wrapper, hair hanging down around her ears, soot smearing her face and clothes, came up beside Samantha and wrapped an arm around her niece’s waist.

Samantha laid her head against her aunt’s shoulder. “Your poor house.”

Her stomach churned as she surveyed the blackened remains of what had been a home full of keepsakes, handmade treasures, and family photographs. A home containing books, sermon notes, and original treatises on biblical topics spawned from decades of research and scholarly study. A home whose door had always been open to anyone in need, whose cozy parlor offered an inviting place for comfort and conversation. So many things lost. So much that couldn’t be replaced. Cherished memories turned to dust.

Why had God allowed such a tragedy to befall two such faithful servants?

A ragged inhale lifted her aunt’s shoulder beneath Samantha’s head for a moment before a heavy sigh dropped it back down. “Jesus admonished his followers not to lay up treasures in this world, material things that can be destroyed by moth and rust—and fire.” Her voice, roughened by smoke, hitched on that last word. “Our treasures are to be stored in heaven instead.” She turned to face Samantha, her arm slipping from around her waist as she instead clasped her niece’s hand. “What happened tonight has given me an entirely new perspective on that teaching. When you woke me, all I cared about was getting you out. Getting Obadiah out. Making sure you both were safe. I didn’t spare a thought for anything else.” Her attention turned back to the crumpled heap that used to be her home. “Now that the danger has passed, I admit to being a little heartsore over what the fire took from us, but dwelling on sorrow only begets more sorrow. So I’ll do my best to steer my thoughts away from what has been lost and focus instead on what we have gained.”

“Gained?” Samantha stared at her aunt in disbelief. “What could you have possibly gained from all of this?”

A smile broke across her aunt’s face, and a light seemed to glow from within her. “We’re about to have a front-row seat to a glorious performance. God at his finest. Working for the good of those who love him.”