“GO NOW!”
Elizabeth obeyed. The love of a child was powerful, and the woman seemed sensible enough to know what she was about. She scrambled down the ladder as fast as she could without dropping the baby or slipping.
At the bottom, she handed the child to Margaret and turned to go back up, but a large hand on her arm brought her up short.
“Pardon my roughness; I will help my wife. See to the babe.”
Elizabeth leapt to the ground while the man scaled the ladder with double her speed. By the time he reached the top, his wife had cleared the rest of the glass and was climbing out.
He helped her to the top step, then they both scrambled down as if they did it every day. For all she knew, they did; she was mightily impressed anyway.
By the time the couple reached the bottom, the fire had moved to the upper floors, and the building was lost.
Elizabeth coughed furiously, as did most everyone in the area. Her hands were bleeding, but she fancied she had seen worse from a fall from the hayloft in the barn. Her face was likely a mess, but a quick swipe with her sleeve left it bloody rather than alarming. Her work for the day might not be complete.
They had attracted attention; a dozen women and children gathered, while her two boys had returned with five more from the orchard. Some of the women ran into unburned houses to rescue essentials to stack on the street, while others tried to put the frightened youngsters into some semblance of order.
“Do any of you ladies know aught about bandaging and nursing?” Elizabeth asked.
“Aye! Most of us do, but Millie here is the best—apothecary’s daughter, you see.”
The woman gestured to a young girl of Elizabeth’s age who blushed profusely.
“Where might he be, Millie?”
“He was attending a birth, so he will return when he returns. Babes have no notion of convenience.”
Everyone laughed, though it seemed unlikely they would have reliable medical help any time soon.
Elizabeth said, “I will not presume to instruct, but may I make a suggestion? This lady’s mother is in the orchard round the hillock there. She has a few trunks of material for bandages but not much else. She is tending to everyone as best she can, but she could use help. Would you care to go, either to be treated or to assist?”
The oldest woman in the group spoke decisively. “Of course; we thank you.”
“The smoke was not so strong there when we left, but I know not what it is like now. At any rate, Mrs Wythe will work with you to determine what to do.”
“A sound suggestion, and we thank you.LET'S GO!” she bellowed, and her ragtag group started organising themselves to leave.
Elizabeth stopped the young lady. “Millie, are your father’s concoctions still available?”
Millie's face fell. She pointed to one of the burning buildings without needing to say it was her home and shop.
Elizabeth glanced at Margaret, then at Millie; Margaret took the girl’s arm and started leading her away as the tears fell.
Elizabeth turned to two of the boys who had reliably made the trip twice before. “They will need a good deal of water at the orchard. Is there a stream?”
“Yes, ma’am. Not far from the edge.”
“Excellent. Can you find a few buckets to take back without endangering yourselves? Can you make a fire?”
The boy grinned, nodded, and was off running hard enough to make Elizabeth tired just watching him.
Without further discussion, the women organised the group, and within another minute, they were gone.
Once the group left towards the orchard, Elizabeth put them from her mind. Mrs Wythe was there, and the women she sent were more capable than she was, so they would not need her help. Most of the men worked with buckets of water and sand, trying their best to save what remained of the village.
One of the men who had observed the exchange watched the women and children leaving, then turned his gaze to Elizabeth and saluted her.
She curtsied in response, and he smiled grimly but waved her closer.
