Free Blowing on Dandelions by Miralee Ferrell Page B

the water trough. I’ll fetch it before I go.” He was more than ready to get back to his bed since the townspeople seemed to have things under control. When the bell had rung its warning toll, he’d raced from the boardinghouse where he’d been trying to work. Sleep had been elusive earlier in the evening, but now he was drained and ready to drop.
    “Tucker?” A hand touched his sleeve.
    “Yes?” Jeffery met Jacobs’s gaze. “You need something else?”
    “No. But I didn’t have a chance to thank you properly for helping rescue me.” The man wiped a smoke-blackened hand across his face, leaving a dark streak on his cheek. “I’ve been so worried about my boy and my home that I forgot my manners. Forgive me.”
    Shame over his earlier thoughts knifed across Jeffery’s conscience. “No need to thank me. You would have done the same.”
    Micah gave a curt nod. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one who went into that fire. Thank you. Let me know if I can help you in any way.”
    “Think nothing of it. I’ll go see if I can find your boy.” Jeffery stepped away and scanned the crowd. No sign of the young man who’d come to supper with Micah the other night. Hopefully, the boy escaped the building in time. Zachary’s death wasn’t something Jeffery would want to use in his work, even if the rest of this night might be good fodder. All tiredness dissipated as blood rushed through his body in eager anticipation. He hadn’t brought a tablet and pencil, but he’d not forget, even if he had to stay up half the night to write it all down. He mustered a smile. Nobody had been seriously hurt, and he was thankful for that, but there was nothing like a tragedy to get people talking.
     

Chapter Eleven
    Pastor Seth shouted above the din. “Somebody bring water over here for Jacobs and rouse the doc if he’s not here already.”
    Embarrassed, Micah held up his hand. “I’ll be all right. They’ve got enough on their hands fighting my fire.”
    The pastor peered into his face. “It’s your livery, but it’s not your fire. We’re a community, and we stick together.” Seth dropped onto one knee when the silence lingered. “You seem like you’re carrying a mighty big load beyond your loss here.” He waved toward the smoldering building where flames still licked the wood and thick smoke boiled into the night sky.
    Micah stiffened, trying to remember that this man had saved his life. He’d lost his livelihood and his home, and very possibly his son’s carelessness had caused this fire. Another month or so into the summer with drier conditions and the entire town could’ve gone up in smoke. What wasn’t bothering him might be a better question to ask.
    He lifted his head and met the pastor’s eyes square on. “Nothing I care to talk about.” He bowed his head again and stifled a cough with his sleeve. “Have you seen my boy? Zachary went to get help and ring the bell, but I haven’t seen him since I came out. Can you find him for me?”
    The pastor nodded, then rose to his feet. “Of course. But remember, Micah, even when things look bleak, God’s light can illumine the darkest corner.” He pivoted and began to head across the street.
    “Maybe,” Micah muttered. “But right now I need to know my son is safe.”
    “Mr. Jacobs!” A girl’s shrill voice penetrated the hum of voices on the street and Lucy Galloway skidded to a stop beside him, wringing her hands. Katherine Galloway followed a step behind her daughter, and another redheaded woman he didn’t recognize stopped beside her. “Are you all right? Where’s Zachary?”
    “You haven’t seen him either?” He tucked his injured arm against his side, grabbed hold of the hitching post rail with his good hand, and dragged himself to his feet, stopping to lean against the post to steady himself.
    Katherine touched his arm. “You’re hurt. Has the doctor seen you?”
    He pulled away, frowning.
    Her hand dropped to her side and