“Turn in your readers to page twenty-one.”

Mrs. Grayson said with that special teacher’s tone of voice. The children were beginning to get sleepy after lunch, a few of them even yawned. “Pete, will you read the first poem?”

He stood up and replied,

“Yes, ma’am.”

He nervously looked over at his friends. (He enjoyed attention, such is the foolish heart of many young men; however, he did not enjoy reading in public.)

“I Hear America Singing by Walt Whitman.
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,”

Some of the children began to smell smoke. Pete smelled it too, but felt he should continue reading.

“The carpenter singing as he measures… Mrs. Grayson, there’s a fire somewhere.”

Just then church bells began ringing with ferocity: Clang-clang-clang. The children were alarmed.

The school's principal, Janet Hall, came from behind the door. “The apothecary is on fire!”

Mrs. Grayson looked worried. “Children, remain in your seats while I investigate this matter.”

As soon as she opened the back door, smoke poured into the room. Pete said, “Come on let’s go.”

The class quickly exited using a side door to the classroom. Mrs. Grayson and Mrs. Janet began running down the street with the children scurrying behind them. The bottom floor of the apothecary was totally consumed in flames. The druggist, Mr. Kennedy, was flinging books and photos from the upstairs apartment. Folks were picking up the items.

“Stay away, go away.” He was yelling like a madman.

“Gene, have you lost your senses?”

“Just do as I say, I’m fine. There is a fire escape in the rear of the apartment. It’s important to stay back, stay away from this building.”

Mr. Kennedy stepped away for a moment from the window.

Preacher Sam tried to calm everyone’s nerves. “Mr. Kennedy must know what he’s doing.”

Constable Julius Walsdorf said, “The apothecary is a stand alone structure. The fire should be contained to this one building.”

Some men showed up with water buckets.

“No, no. Stay away, stay away.” Dixie was insistent, she was flailing her arms as she yelled at the crowd. “No water, no water! Stay away, stay away!”

Mr. Kennedy came running up front from behind the building. “Back, back, everyone back and cover your faces with your hands like this.”

The crowd stepped back further and covered their faces with their hands. Suddenly, the building exploded in a massive fireball. The whole air seemed to burn up in that one instant. The sound was deafening. The tips of Sarah’s hair on her forehead were slightly singed.

Sarah heard Dr. Arnold Westbrook yell, “Is anyone injured?”

Someone said, “I got a chard of glass in my wrists.”

A couple of voices came from the crowd, “Yea, same here.”

“Anyone else hurt?” said Dr. Westbrook.

No response was heard. Constable Walsdorf said, “We’re very fortunate. Gene, thank heavens you kept a cool head in a hot fire.”

Gene sighed. “I could use those water buckets now.”

Men started to toss buckets of water on the smoldering structure. It had collapsed.

“The magnesium was stored in the back of the building. I kept it there just in case of an event like this one. Truth is, I don’t know how the fire even started.”

“Very wise, Gene, very wise,” replied Mr. Conrad.

The fire began to weaken and then fade into the dissipating smoke. Sarah ran over to her father, “Oh, that was frightening.”

He whispered, “It’s all over now. Come on.”

Ray Casey said, “Everyone come on over to the café for a spell.”

“Got coffee?” said the constable.

“It’ll be on your table in a minute, Julius.”

When he slapped the back of the charcoaled faced policeman, dusted curled up from his collar.

Mrs. Grayson turned around to the crowd, “Um, class dismissed.”

Soon, it appeared as if the whole town was at the café. A few folks milled around outside. Most everyone else was seated drinking coffee, lemonade, tea, and water. Dr. Westbrook was picking glass out of the wrists of one of the volunteer firefighters. Nurse Maude Westbrook was checking on the older citizens. She was listening to them breathe using a stethoscope.

“You’ll live but this should be a Divine prompt to give up cigars.”

An elderly man reluctantly agreed, “Yessum.”

Gene walked over to Dr. Westbrook who was wrapping a patient’s wrist in gauze. “Arnold, I need to talk to you.”

“Of course,” he replied. Dr. Westbrook turned to Emily.

“Emily, can you finish wrapping Mrs. Ford’s wrist?”

“Sure.” Emily was glad to help.

Gene stood on a chair; he clanged a glass with a spoon.

“Folks, first of all on behalf of me and my wife, Dixie, thank you for the valiant effort today. You followed instructions that you did not completely understand and I appreciate it. We have three or four people with cuts on their hands from the exploding glass but that should not be a problem.

I do have one issue. We need medical supplies, now. Dr. Westbrook should be able to treat anyone with the right medicines if you need him to do so, however, part of my business was carrying large amounts of raw materials to make those medicines. Naturally, the business was insured, but it will take weeks for the insurance company to come through with all of the available funds. I have ample cash in my account and I am sure some of our more prosperous citizens would be willing to help if anything pops up.

Dixie and I will be leaving on the 5 o’clock train to River City. I have some friends there whom I went to school with who can help me with some of the basics. I’ll have some raw materials shipped back to Eagle Creek as soon as possible. Next, I’ll need to go to the State Medical Board. They will grant me all of the emergency supplies I need, but, I must be there to sign for them.

Dixie and I should be back by Friday of next week. I’ll need someone to find some space in town, maybe an unused storage room, to set up a temporary apothecary.”

Sarah’s father asked, “How much money will you need?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I’ll go draw up some traveler’s checks and bank notes, you can use them at any Montana Chemical Bank location.” He left the room and walked down the street to the bank.

Gene shrugged. “We’ll get through this folks. You’ll see.”

The crowded nodded. Everyone had confidence in the spirit of Eagle Creek.

When Emily finished up wrapping Mrs. Ford’s injured hand, she stood up and began to sing, “The Lord my Shepherd is I shall be well supplied.”

The rest of the crowd joined in,
“Since He is mine and I am His,
What can I want beside?
What can I want beside?”

Everyone’s spirits began to soar. There were even a few smiles.
"He leads me to the place
Where Heavn’ly pasture grows,
Where living waters gently pass
And full salvation flows.
And full salvation flows."

Dixie stood beside her husband, weeping on his bosom. She was clutching a framed picture of their baby daughter, Madison, who would forever be only six months old. She'd died suddenly last summer. The song meant even more to Dixie now. She too joined the impromptu chorus.
"If e’er I go astray,
He doth my soul reclaim
And guides me in His own right way
For His most holy name.
For His most holy name."

Everyone hugged, a few laughed.

Preacher Sam stood up. “Thank you Emily for reminding us of who we are, as friends, as a community, as a nation. That is truly one of my favorite hymns by Isaac Watts. Gene, Dixie, come over here. Let’s pray for you, right now.”

Gene and Dixie moved over to where preacher Sam was standing. Most everyone got on their knees.

“Most loving and kind father, you are awesome in wonders and mercy. We thank Thee for the hearts of your servants Gene and Dixie. You showed them immeasurable grace by sparing their lives today. We thank you God that you gave Gene a measure of wisdom to not panic in a dangerous situation but think proactively. Had he not urged the sparing of the water, folks might be dead. Be with them now as they make their long journey. Be with those who were injured. Bless this couple. Bless this community. In your son’s name I pray, Amen.”

Gene and Dixie hugged each other and then a few others in the room. They headed out the door. Will Clementine shut the door behind them and locked it. He spoke up, “Everyone stay here a moment.”

Folks became quiet.

He said in a boisterous tone, “We need a proper apothecary; a storage room isn’t going to work.”

Constable Walsdorf asked, “What do you have in mind, Will?”

“We’ve eight days. From today until the noon train on Friday of next week; we have eight days to build an apothecary.”

Folks murmured amongst themselves. Some bemoaned, “Can’t be done.”

Others replied, “We can do it.”

“Tom, you designed that building. Do you still have the plans?”

He thought for a moment. “In my office, somewhere.”

Will turned to the crowd. “Friends, we can do this.”

Michael Conrad knocked on the door. Mr. Clementine let him in.

“Will, I got an idea. We should….”

“Rebuild the apothecary!,” replied the crowd.

“Yes! How’d you know?”

Everyone laughed. Folks talked amongst themselves. Some one took out a pencil and a piece of paper.

Michael Conrad spoke once again, “I'll talk to Mr. Mahoney at the mine. I’ll pay each miner double their normal lot if they come join us on Thursday, which is when, I suspect, we’ll need them the most.”

As the crowd continued to mill around inside the café, Emily found Sarah. Emily’s face seemed downtrodden.

“Sarah, I don’t think we should.…”

Sarah interrupted her, “I know, Em. I agree.”

She smiled at Emily. Sarah spoke softly, “Em, we’ve had fifteen birthday parties between us. And, Lord willing, we’ll have one next year too.”

“But Sarah, this means, we won’t be able to use the corset.”

Sarah laughed and said, “That is a supreme sacrifice.”

Emily added, “This town needs an apothecary more than we need a party.”

Sarah agreed.

Emily got up on a chair, “Folks, please, first of all, that was the first and only solo you will ever hear from me.”

Everyone laughed.

“Secondly, my friend Sarah and I were born just six days apart and we always have a birthday party together. We were going to celebrate it on Saturday night. But this year, we’ve decided against it. Mom, please don’t bake a cake. Dad, if you got a gift, please, return it and put the money into buying nails and boards and paint and whatever.”

Sarah turned to her father.

Michael Conrad replied, “My little girl is growing up so fast and for once, well, I am glad she is. That takes quite an amount of maturity on your part.” He was so proud.

Ray Casey said, “Casey’s Café will be open. There will be someone in this kitchen to fix coffee or sandwiches and whatever else men need while they work. Payment is up to you, I won’t ask for a nickel.”

Emily’s father said, “Well? What are we just standing around for let’s get to work!”

Everyone shouted enthusiastically, “Hurray!”

Michael Conrad went up to his daughter. “Sarah, I’m proud of you.”

She smiled. “There’s $20 in my account can you withdraw it for me?”

“Sure,” he responded.

Sarah said, “I am going to help Emily whitewash the side of the bakery. It’s all gray and black now.”

He asked, “Will you be spending the night?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll check on you in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you, sir.” They embraced.

The next day, Sarah and Emily were in the bakery making bread for the volunteers and the miners. They were worn out and sweaty. This was not the enchanting, romantic night they had in mind but somehow, it was a lot for fun. Sarah straightened out her dirty apron. She said sarcastically, “Now this is a dress for a Sweet Sixteen party.”

Emily laughed. “You look wonderful. May I have this dance?”

“I would be honored.”

They joined hands and pirouetted around the kitchen to a waltz only they could hear. Ding-Ding rang one of the oven timers. Emily cupped her ear and said, “Hark: the toll of midnight!”

Sarah feigned an aristocratic tone, “Cinderella, Cinderella! You must return home before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin.”

“What? And leave Prince Charming? Never! Never!”

“You must, you must or Castle Crummy Creek will be lost anon.”

They both threw their aprons over their heads and screamed. “Eeeeeeeeee!”

A voice spoke, “Um, can I get a loaf of bread?”

Sarah and Emily slowly let down the aprons to just below their eyes. “Oh, of course, sir, right away.”

Emily was red-faced. Sarah was slowly sinking behind the counter hoping to avoid any detection. Emily wrapped the bread in paper.

“Here you go. See you church tomorrow, preacher Sam.”

He was chuckling, “Good night, Cinderella.”

Emily waved: “too-da-loo.”

As the week progressed more and more lumber arrived and dozens of men were hammering, setting brick and mortar, framing windows, and building counter tops. Almost every male old enough to hold a screw driver helped. The women worked on making the upstairs apartment presentable. They added lovely pink and silver curtains which Dixie had been wanting for years. They even put in new flower boxes. Mrs. Lucille, who owned the dress shop and some of the other ladies, went to River City. They purchased hats, dresses, stocking and undergarments for Dixie. Furniture for the apartment was donated. Jeremiah’s Dry Goods Store made sure the pantry was full.

With a little help from the workers at the mine, most everything was done by Thursday night. People stood outside admiring the new apothecary.

Jean, Emily’s mother, asked

“How’d we do this so fast?”

Paula replied, “Well, for starters, no one made a detailed list of the reasons why it couldn’t be done.” They shared a smile.

When Mr. Kennedy arrived on the noon train the next morning, he did not notice the new building. He and his wife were looking over their list of cargo. Slowly it disappeared as men came in to move the heavy boxes.

“Wait! Wait! You don’t know where to take those crates!”

The men were walking towards the pile of rubble.

“Confound it! Get back here. We need to put it in storage at…” he abruptly stopped.

His wife stopped right behind him. “What?”

Gene pointed at the debris pile and then to the left.

Dixie was flabbergasted. “I, I, I don’t believe it. Oh, thank you Lord.”

They both began running to the new apothecary building. Sarah was just touching up one of its white frame posts with paint.

“Afternoon,” she said. She pointed to a sign over the front door, “Eagle Creek Apothecary.”

Gene and Dixie’s eyes were filled with tears. Men gathered outside organizing the crates of new supplies.

Gene smiled back and mouthed, “Thank Heavens.”

There were hugs going around.

Gene shook his head. “I, I, I don’t know what to say.”

“I know what you should say,” replied preacher Sam.

He whispered in Gene’s right ear. He nodded and then yelled at the top of his lungs, “Open for business!”