The Big Burn Read Free

for this land in a way he'd never cared for anyplace or anybody. People were saying it might burn up, and this afternoon, he'd seen how. Flames rising without warning and destroying so fast.
    He had to fight back, and joining a fire-fighting crew was the best way he could think of, though that would mean squaring off with Pop first.
    An incoming train sounded its approach with three sharp blasts of its whistle. That would be his father's run. Inside one of the passenger cars, Pop would be telling the people whose tickets were for Avery that it was time to get off. Maybe he'd be helping a woman gather her belongings, or perhaps he'd be giving someone the correct time. Only when Pop had turned responsibility for his car over to a night-shift conductor would he retrieve his own travel valise and start for home.
    Jarrett hoped Pop would be in a better mood than he was after his last run, when he'd returned still aggravated over a brakeman caught stealing tools. Of course, Pop had discharged him then and there.
    Jarrett took a last look at the yellow glow in the distance, knowing that particular fire would be somebody else's to deal with. Then he started for home. He needed to put supper on the table before Pop got there. He hoped his father wouldn't have heard about the afternoon's disaster from someone else, before Jarrett could explain it his own way.
    ***
    "You can't do better than heating canned beans?" Pop demanded, ignoring the platter of corn bread and fried ham Jarrett had put on the table. He blew out a breath as though to say food was only the beginning of his grievances. "I heard you ran away from a fire."
    "No, I missed a track fire because I'd gone to put out another one that might have spread down."
    "And did you put it out?"
    "I got started, but then it began moving too fast for me. Some miners took over."
    "So which was it?" Pop demanded. "You got scared off your job, or you couldn't do it? Which do you expect me to tell Mr. Blakeney? That you're incompetent or a coward?"
    "I'm not either one. I—"
    "Because he hired you on my say-so. Now what's his opinion of me going to be?"
    "Why should it change? You weren't there today." Jarrett stopped short, feeling as tangled up as arguing with Pop always made him feel. He hadn't even had a chance to bring up his wish to take a fire-fighting job. "Look," he said, "I'm sorry. I thought I was doing right. I didn't mean to let you down."
    He watched his father carry his half-full dish to the sink and thump it down in disgust. Pop pulled on his jacket and checked his beer money before swinging around where Jarrett could see his face again. "I'll go to Mr. Blakeney tomorrow morning and ask him to give you another chance. You don't want it on your record you got fired."
    "Pop, he'll say no, and anyway, my
record
doesn't matter. I told you before I don't want to spend my life working for the railroad."
    "The day you grow up," Pop said, his eyes glittering with anger, "you're going to realize a good job with the railroad is something to be proud of."
    "When I
grow up,
"Jarrett said, "I'll find something more worthwhile to do than walk up and down passenger cars lighting lanterns and keeping order."
    Pop stiffened. "Leave, then. You think you can find something more important to do with your life, go do it. But when you fall on your face, don't come back here."

Homestead off Placer Creek
July 13, Evening
    Not ready to go inside, Celia Whitcomb leaned against the cabin's rough logs and listened to distant thunder. She hoped rain was finally on its way. It would be one less worry.
    Of all the things that frightened her right now, the threat of wildfire scared her most. It was the one thing that could take her timber from her before she could sell it.
    She hated feeling so helpless, watching the weather and not being able to do a thing to change it. She should have listened last spring to that old-timer. He'd said she should take the Indian way and burn while she could do it on