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Dropping everything, they all raced toward the growing blaze. Esther pushed herself, running as fast as she could, but she knew she’d be too late. James was in the lead, his long legs outdistancing everyone. As she watched in horror, he threw himself though the smoke-filled doorway.
    Men and women alike formed a bucket line from the village well. Water sloshed as wooden buckets were quickly passed up the line and dumped on the cottage. Empty, they were raced back to the well for refilling. Other men beat at the flames with shovels, trying desperately to extinguish it.
    Esther froze, unable to take her eyes from the doorway. Her nightmare image was becoming reality. Gasping, she fell to her knees as James broke thought the entryway with an elderly woman clutched in his arms. Coughing, he stumbled a few feet and lowered her safely to the ground where several women quickly surrounded her. “Robert is still inside,” the woman cried.
    James nodded and as he raised his head, his soot-stained face met hers. She knew in her heart that he could not leave an elderly man to burn in the flames. He would not be the man that she loved if he could.
    Flames now licked the edges of the doorway. Several men attempted to enter, but pulled back from the intense heat. James pushed them aside and plunged inside. Esther remained on her knees, praying fervently to God to save both James and Robert. Water was tossed on the blaze as the villagers worked tirelessly to contain the fire. If they failed, it might spread to all their homes.
    James appeared in the entrance, practically throwing the elderly man from the grasping clutches of the flames. Before he could step to safety the building groaned and a huge crack rent the eerie silence that seemed to surround her. A wall of flame shot high in the air as the beams of the cottage collapsed. James threw himself forward and for a brief moment she thought that he’d made it. But like some covetous demon, the fiery beams collapsed around him, trapping most of his body within the flames. He screamed as he fell beneath its rage.
    Surging to her feet, she raced toward him, fighting off the men who struggled to pull him from the wreckage. Others continued to toss water onto him, hoping to keep the fire at bay. Ignoring the heat that singed her skin, she knelt by his side and lightly gripped his burned hand. “Hurry,” she pleaded with the men who fought to free him. Her eyes met her father’s and she had to look away, unable to bear the pity in them.
    James was unconscious, but she brushed his now blackened hair from his face. One side was burned, but the other was untouched. Esther didn’t care what he looked like as long as he lived.
    “Stand back, Esther,” her father yelled.
    She reluctantly stepped away and watched as the men lifted the smoldering wood and dragged his body from the wreckage. She bit her lip, drawing blood, as his mangled form was revealed. “Bring him this way.” Determination filled her as she led the way to their tiny one-room cottage. She would save him by whatever means was necessary. The alternative was unthinkable.
    They laid him on the bed and she quickly went to work, trying to peel his clothing from him, but it had fused to his flesh. James cried out, his eyes opening as his hand reached out to her. She grasped it as tightly as she dared.
    “Sorry,” he choked out, licking his dry lips. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
    “I love you, James. You’ll get well.” But her words were false and they both knew it. Despair filled her.
    “Baby,” he whispered. Her eyes widened and a whisper of a smile crossed his lips before he coughed and groaned again. “Raise him well.”
    “Not without you, James,” she cried, unable to be strong any longer.
    His hand shifted until he was grasping hers tight. “Nothing can change our love. Not time or distance.” His voice was getting weaker. “I will find you again some day. Promise me…”
    “Promise you what,