Chapter Thirty-One
We scramble to our feet.
“Oh, shit! Dahlia!”
I squint, but my vision is obscured by spots. We run towards the other side of the orchard. A cherry tree – one of my beautiful cherry trees – is consumed with fire. Yellow flames lap at the sky. Sparks crackle, growing louder by the second.
In the dark I hear, “Y’all OK?”
It’s Kaylee.
She’s standing near the tree, watching.
I stop dead in my tracks. Why is she just standing there? Why isn’t she yelling for help?
I yank her blanket away and try to smother the flames, but the tree is too tall.
Cash yells to people at the bonfire as he runs to them.
I spin round, mind racing, trying to come up with a solution quickly.
I run after him, and people are already coming towards us with coolers filled with icy water – just what I was thinking.
We run together, a couple of people on the sides of each cooler.
The air is silent except for the sound of crackling leaves.
We heave the coolers up and toss the water as high on to the branches as possible. Some of the guys lift each other up to smother the flames with more blankets, but the fire only spreads. It expands exponentially – along with my frenzied panic.
I scream at Emery when I see her holding a blanket.
“Give that to me!” I steal it from her and climb a picking ladder, this time without a second thought.
I slap the flames with a blanket, causing embers to fall in my face.
Each spark burns with pain, but I push them away.
I swat at the flames again, and the blanket ignites.
An ember falls into my hair and feels like a knife cutting at my scalp. I pull it from my head.
“I’m calling the fire department,” Emery yells up to me, but I hardly register her words.
“Stop! Stop!” I yell at the fire, crying.
Suddenly I’m being pulled down from the tree. I swing my hands and kick my legs. And as my feet hit the ground, a hand pulls the remains of the burning ember from my head.
“Let go of me! Stop it.” It’s Cash, but I don’t turn. All I can think is: I have to put out the fire. I see another group carrying a cooler towards me.
“Put the blanket in the water,” I yell to them. “Hitting the flames is only making it worse.”
Together we soak the blanket in the cold water.
“Throw it over the tree,” I scream over the noise and chaos.
Cash uses his large arms to throw the heavy, wet blanket over the tree, but it ends up in more of a lump than spread out.
I jump up, grabbing at the ends to pull it across.
My hand snags on a fiery branch and it breaks from my grasp, falling to the ground in a black and orange mass.
More people come to the cooler to soak blankets. By now, every tree’s on fire.
We work tirelessly until sirens come hollering up the hill. Thank the stars the fire department has a wildland fire truck. A normal one wouldn’t make it up. Firemen and women yell to us to get away from the fire. They work as quickly as they can to pump water from the pond through their hoses.
“Cash! They aren’t going fast enough,” I cry. “Oh my gosh! What about Mom? The house?”
“I sent Emery down to check on her already.” He pulls me in, trying to keep me from looking. “They’re doing all they can.”
I wrap my arm round him, but I scream when my hand touches his sweatshirt.
Stinging pain shoots up to my elbow from my hand.
Adrenalin is racing through my veins, but the pain from my burns is blasting through it.
I use the flashlight on my phone to look at my hand.
My skin is blistered and blazing red. Cash gasps and runs to fetch one of the many beers laying on the ground that had been tossed out of the coolers.
He pours the cold liquid over my blisters, one after another until he’s gotten through about ten of them.
“Is it helping?” he asks, worry painted across his face.
Tears drip from the corners of my eyes as the beer fizzes over my blistered hand.
I don’t say it, but the tears are not from the pain – they’re from wishing this wasn’t real.
I want to wake up. This can’t be happening, standing here, huddled in a circle, watching my trees burn.
Only a short time ago we were playing games, drinking beer and singing songs.
My hand is not mine. The burns and blisters, the red and purple bulges belong to someone who’s lost their last hope, not to me. Emery appears at my side and gives me a hug, but I can’t look away from my hand.
“I’m so sorry, Dahlia,” she says. “I can’t believe this happened. We need to get you to the hospital!”
“I’ll be OK. I don’t want to leave. Is Mom OK?”
She had been at the house during the party, ready to drive anyone home or set up beds if we needed.
“She’s OK. I ran back out here to help after I called the fire department. She’ll probably get in trouble for the under-age drinking.”
“No,” I say. “We can’t let that happen. We take all the blame, OK? We’ll say she had no idea. That we lied to her.”
Emery starts crying. “Yeah, you’re right. Dahlia, I’m so sorry. This birthday party was a big mistake. Come on, let’s get you some help.”
Just then, a large flame rises from the orchard, and I lose hope that any trees will remain. It’s a funny thing, watching a fire destroy something you love. The destruction is impossible to tear your eyes from, and yet it is excruciating to watch.
I make sure everyone else is looked at first and safe to go home. No one is critically hurt, thankfully. As the glow of the embers begins to fade and almost everyone has been checked by the EMTs, it’s finally my turn.
Cash stays by my side as they treat the second-degree burns on my scalp and offer me an oxygen mask. The EMTs put antibiotic cream on my head and hand after I run them in cold water. They wrap my hand in bandages and give me an ice pack.
As they work on me, Mom talks to the firemen and police.
Behind her, wisps of smoke rise from the black skeletons of trees.
In the light of the emergency vehicles, shadows of leaves peek out from the charred limbs.
There is still some silvery grey bark, and I think I may even see a cherry or two hanging from the branches, but every single tree was damaged.
Hank comes over and tells us more bad news. The fire didn’t just hit the trees. It spread across the field. I was so consumed by the trees I had no idea.
“The firefighters think the bonfire might have spit out a large spark and ignited the dry weeds in the field before spreading to the trees,” Hank explains. “They didn’t have enough water from the pond, and without water rights, they couldn’t tap into what they really needed to contain it all.”
I cry, even as the police and firefighters question us. What were we doing when the fire started? What time was it? Cash tells them we were watching the stars. We weren’t close to the bonfire and didn’t have a clue what happened.
Around 2 a.m. Cash finds me between the paddock and the house, disorientated.
“I need to check on Blue,” I tell him.
Cash gives me a knowing look. “We’ll check on him in the morning,” he says. “The fire didn’t come over here and you need to rest.” He scoops me up gently and carries me to the house in his arms.
Mom and Emery fall asleep in Mom’s bed, and Cash and I lie on the couch. I’m so numb from shock I can’t feel the comforting warmth of Cash’s skin or the hum of his heart. Shadow curls up at our feet and purrs. I want to be her right now, completely unaware of the tragedy.
“You OK?” he asks.
“Not really. Everything hurts,” I say. I pet Shadow with my toes, and she gives me her contented squinty eyes. “Are you OK?”
“I just don’t believe it.” He stares blankly. He pulls a blanket over us and kisses my cheek.
“I don’t believe it either,” I say, my anger growing. I sit up and kick the blanket off. “This was my chance to save the ranch, and I blew it with a party.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Well, it sure as heck wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t suggested this.”
“Dahlia, we don’t know what happened yet,” he tries. “Let’s try to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep. Cash, without my cherries, I can’t make money.
And without money I can’t pay off the debt.
I have no idea what things will go for at the antiques auction.
The desk could go for thousands, but it could also go for only hundreds.
Either way, I can’t make thirty thousand.
I’m losing the ranch.” I stand up. “No, no. I’ve already lost the ranch.
The life I’ve always wanted, that I’ve come to love so much, is over. ”
“There’s still the honey,” Cash reasons.
“There isn’t enough honey to make the money I need.”
Cash sighs. “I’ll make a pot of coffee. We can stay up and problem solve.”
I sit heavily down next to him and bury my face in my hands. “I can’t think clearly enough to do that, but thank you.”
He rubs his eyes. “You should rest.”
“We both should,” I say, but know I won’t sleep.
Cash lies back on the couch. I rest my cheek on his chest and he puts his heavy arm over me. He breathes in and out in slow intervals and eventually falls asleep. I listen to the crickets outside the window and take deep breaths in an attempt to align my heartbeat with their rhythm.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. It’s Dad.
Emery told me about the fire. She said everyone’s OK. I’ll be there in the morning to check on you girls.
OK. Thanks, Dad. We’re all OK.
Every time I close my eyes I see the trees on fire, the branches crackling – popping and hissing with unbearable heat.
I turn on my side and stare at the microwave clock. My vision blurs as the glowing green minutes change.