Dreaming of His Snowed In Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,50
out and ready for morning the night before.” She laughed a little. “We all liked to sleep in as long as possible. So we did as much the night before as we could. I suppose that’s the way all farmers work.”
He had to laugh a little at that. “I don’t milk cows, but I can relate. It’s almost always easier to do the work the night before than it is to get up early the next day.”
“Exactly. And we already got up at four.”
“Wow.”
“Anyway, I guess it was a flue fire. That’s what the fire inspector said anyway.”
A sick feeling of premonition crawled through his middle.
“I don’t know what it was that made Mom look out the door while we are milking. Usually we kept everything closed up tight to keep the warmth in. Maybe it was a mom’s intuition. I don’t know. Anyway, when she looked out, the house was fully engulfed.”
West couldn’t help it. He gasped. The statement she’d made ran through his mind. She was third of eleven.
“You had ten siblings in that house.”
“I did.” She put a hand out to the snow but didn’t seem to watch the flakes land in it, caught up in her story. “Mom called 911. Dad ran across the path from the barn to the house. My brother Adam was one, and he and Abigail, my oldest sister, were looking out the window of his room on the second story. I can still see them in my mind right now. Looking out.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute. Flakes melted in her hand, and she didn’t seem to notice. It had to be getting cold. West reached for it, taking it and folding it in his. She didn’t resist.
“Abigail looked serene. I think she knew exactly what was going to happen. She’d probably already tried to get out and couldn’t. And even though the smoke swirled around them, Adam was calm. I remembered distinctly that he wasn’t crying. But he was in front of her, like she was holding him up to look out the window.”
She swallowed. “There were five windows across the front of the house. I can see my other siblings in different ones. I try not to picture them though, because they were not like Abigail. Esther, she was only 15 months younger than me, and we did everything together, had a window open, and she was crying and screaming.” Her hand flexed in his before tightening into a fist. “I don’t need to say anything more. You understand, I’m sure. It was an awful time. I was the only sibling that survived. And my dad ran in, even though the house was consumed. I guess he thought he might be able to save someone. He ended up dying too.”
The snow was still falling; the night was still dark. The river still roared in its muted way. West’s heart still beat, and his lungs still filled and emptied. But it felt like the whole world had shifted.
He’d made a lot of assumptions about the woman standing in front of him.
They’d all been wrong.
“You and your mom were the only ones of your family left?”
She looked at the snow, nodding. She couldn’t even look at him. “That’s right.”
He crossed his arms and turned, leaning against the banister with his thighs, looking up at the snowflakes falling down whimsically.
How could God let something like that happen to one family?
Then the thought struck him. “Where’s your mom?”
Poppy turned beside him, and she leaned a hip against the banister again. Still, she kept her hands over her chest crossed, probably for protection.
“She and I handled things differently. We both saw everything happen, and it was months before I woke up and spent a day that I didn’t cry.” Her chin came up. “But one day, I got up and I decided it wasn’t gonna be the way I spent the rest of my life. I’d grieved long enough. I don’t mean to say that I didn’t grieve. I did. And you need to. But happiness is a choice, and if the joy of the Lord is my strength, then I needed to live that, no matter what trials God gave me.”
Her lips turned up, ever so slightly. “Every day since then, I’ve tried, some days with more success than others, to live the truth.” She put her hands down on the banister, her knuckles white as she squeezed. “My mom struggles with depression. I don’t think anyone could blame her for that.