A Wedding for Julia (44 page)

Chapter 36

J
ulia could hardly feel the fingers of her left arm.

She was aware she’d lost a good deal of blood, but she didn’t think rewrapping the wound was a good idea. When she’d landed at the bottom of the stairs, thrown there by the force of the tornado, she’d crashed into several of the jars of canned preserves that had fallen onto the floor. The glass had carved a jagged wound from her shoulder to her elbow.

At first she’d been consumed by the fear that she’d hurt Victoria, or that Victoria had also been cut. It had taken a few moments to realize just how much blood was streaming down her arm as the men had struggled with the door and slammed the bolt shut.

Staggering to her feet, she’d pushed Victoria into Jeanette’s hands and headed to the back of the basement where she knew old clean rags and towels were kept next to the washing machine.

The woman who had complimented her apple-cinnamon pie, Frances, had been there with her back pressed against the wall. She hadn’t even hesitated. While her friend Terra had held up a small flashlight she’d fished from her purse, Frances had pulled the pieces of glass free and bound the wound with some of the cloths.

“You’ll need stitches soon,” she’d cautioned. Frances was older, her skin a warm brown from days in the sun or possibly from her ethnic heritage. She was also as thin as a willow; whereas Terra was more solidly built. Both women seemed unharmed but rattled by what they had been through.

Julia wasn’t sure about the stitches. She’d never had stitches before and hoped the bleeding would stop soon on its own. “
Danki
, for your help. We should check on the others.”

They moved in a sort of circle around the room. Frances and Terra worked their way around the right side of the basement while Julia had moved around the left. The makeshift bandage had staunched the bleeding of her wound at first.

Staring across the candlelit basement into her mother’s eyes, Julia knew she would need to seek Frances out again soon. The wrapping was too wet, the bleeding increasing. But for now, she was caught up in her mother’s memories, and it felt so good to sit and rest.

“He was angry,” Ada said. “Your
dat
was always a peaceful man, but he was young then and not yet given over to
gelassenheit
.”

Inquiring eyes turned to her, but Julia didn’t know how to explain such a cornerstone of their faith, of their lives. So instead she shrugged. “I was young and afraid he was angry with me.”

She glanced at the stairs, as if she might see her father walking down them, walking toward her as he had that evening.

“I remember flying through the air, into your arms, just before he screamed. Then there was the noise like a train. It was similar to what we all heard earlier.”

“A tornado hit here before?” Wess asked.

“
Nein
.” Ada turned the bottle of water in her hands. “He shields all who take refuge in Him.”

Julia noticed a few people look to each other in confusion, but she could no more explain Ada and her Psalms to them than she could explain
gelassenheit
.

“You can see the historical clippings at the library. The tornado skirted our area that July day—hovering, it seemed—and then moving past.
Dat
slammed the lock shut and came down the stairs, not saying a word. When he put his arms around us, I knew.” Julia closed her eyes, remembering the touch and smell of her father, remembering his presence.

She had felt his loss almost daily since that cold March morning when she’d stood at his graveside next to her mother. Somehow though, sitting in the basement with blood running down her arm and the world above in chaos, she no longer missed her father.

How could she miss him when his presence was so strong? How could she miss what wasn’t gone?

“What did you know?” Victoria asked.

Julia opened her eyes, reached forward, and tucked the girl’s hair behind her ears. “I knew he wasn’t angry with me, but with the storm—with what he couldn’t control. And I knew I was safe in my father’s arms.”

A silence settled over the room as the truth of Julia’s words sank into their hearts.

“You said you sheltered here two times.” Brad glanced back toward the windows. “The first time there was a tornado—”

“
Ya
, that one only skirted the area.” Ada took another sip of water. “St. Croix and Dunn took a direct hit.”

“And the second time?”

Julia answered. “I was nine and remember those details better. We all sheltered,
dat
threw the bolt as before, but the tornado didn’t appear here in Pebble Creek.”

“One soul was called home—in Waukesha.” Ada’s voice was low, and her eyes were closed.

“Should we get her up and try to walk her around a little?” Sharon asked.

Julia looked to Frances, who shook her head.

“Let her rest for fifteen minutes. Then wake her and be sure she can answer questions such as her name, who you are, and where she lives. Keep doing that every quarter hour.”

Julia stood and motioned for some of the adults to follow her into a corner by the stairwell.

“Your arm looks bad, Julia.” Tim was the first to speak.

“I’ll have Frances look at it again in a minute. I thought we should speak of our situation. We have enough food and water to make it several days.”

“Days?” Brad’s eyes bulged. “You think we might be down here for days?”

“Listen to the storm.” Julia watched their faces as understanding dawned on each one. The wind continued to howl outside their sanctuary, but now there was a muted heaviness to it. “The rain turned to snow half an hour ago. We can’t go out by the stairs because the door won’t open. The windows are blocked by fallen limbs and possibly other debris as well.”

“I’m not sure staying here is the wisest course.” Brad shook his head.

“Outside in a blizzard at night would be worse. It’s completely dark out there now. I don’t know why. It’s too early for evening, but I can’t even make out the limbs outside the window anymore.” Tim glanced around at their group. “Let’s set up a makeshift bathroom in the corner. Brad and I can hang a curtain around it.”

“Frances and I can find food to distribute.” Julia moved to the shelves against the wall.

“I can help with that.” Terra moved forward. “Let Frances see to your arm now.”

“I’ll help as well.” Jeanette had left her children and Bandit with Wess and Sharon.

Julia nodded. She was feeling lightheaded suddenly and reached out to rest her good arm against the wall nearest her. “Look along those shelves. There’s plenty to eat that wasn’t broken.

Tim ran his hand up and over the top of his head. “After we see to the bathroom, we’ll search for items to make pallets for sleeping. It would be better to keep folks off the cold floor as much as possible.”

“We should remind people to only check their phones periodically.” Brad scrubbed a hand over his face. “Best to save the batteries.”

“Agreed.” Tim reached out and stopped Julia as she moved away. “Caleb’s all right. He would have sheltered in the barn.”

She couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat, so she only nodded.

“And at first light, I’ll prove it to you. Whatever I have to climb through, I will find a way out of here.”

Caleb crouched in the semidarkness at the back of the barn. The few gas lanterns he’d found cast a comforting glow throughout the half of the barn they were huddled in—the half that hadn’t been crushed by the tornado. The front half was now impassable. No one was leaving in that direction.

The front entrance to the barn simply didn’t exist anymore. It was a mass of wreckage—lumber, trees, and debris. Fortunately, the rubble had at least sealed out the storm on that end.

And while they should be able to go out through the back, a snow bank was fast building up against the loading bay doors. Every hour he faced the blizzard with two other men and shoveled the accumulating drift away from their only exit. They hadn’t dared to travel far from those loading doors, though. The temperature had dropped below zero, the wind was howling, and snow was still falling at a dangerous rate.

No one’s cell phone was working.

As much as it pained him, they had all agreed it was best to stay put until morning. To go outside into the storm, especially after the damage the tornado had caused, would only invite more injuries.

He had to trust that Julia, Ada, and Sharon were safe.

What help would he be to them if he survived the tornado only to become lost and freeze to death in the blizzard? No. It was best to wait and pray and help those who were trapped with him.

At the moment he had his hands full calming Aaron, who sat propped up against one of the horse stalls.

“You’re sure it’s broken? Because I think I can walk on it. I can at least ride if you’ll help me up on Patches. If you’ll saddle him, I could take—”

“You know as well as I do the gelding won’t make it half a mile in this storm.” Caleb understood his friend would walk home if that were the only way to check on his family. From the expression on his face, he knew Aaron would like to try, but he also knew that leaving tonight just wasn’t possible.

Brenda Stiles, an older black woman with short hair, shook her head and pointed a finger at his leg. “Trust me. It’s broken. I’ve splinted it, but you won’t be able to walk on it until you see a physician and have it set properly. Even then you’ll need to use crutches until it heals.”

Aaron made a sound which resembled a growl.

Brenda looked unfazed. “I’m used to working with babies. It’s been a while since I had a full-sized patient who could argue with me.”

“We’re grateful to have a doctor here,” Caleb said. “
Gotte
sent you to us.”

“I thought He was sending me on vacation, but maybe you’re right.” Brenda shook her head. “It’s amazing we don’t have more injuries. I think that tornado was an F3. Maybe an F4.”

Aaron struggled to sit up straighter. “I have to go home. My wife is expecting our first
boppli
. I’ve heard that things like big storms can cause women to go into labor.”

“Is she alone?” Brenda asked.

“
Nein
. Her mother will be with her, but—”

“And has her mother ever attended a birth before?”

“Yes, of course, but—”