The Secret of the Stone House (12 page)

CHAPTER NINE

“
Emily, how could you know where to look?”
Aunt Liz asked her sharply, sinking to the floor beside her.

“Just a good guess,” Emily said as she pushed on one of the stones.

“You are one strange kid,” Aunt Liz squeezed in beside her.

Her mom knelt on the other side, looking at a fine crack in the mortar around one of the stones. “It has to be right here, about where Emily is.”

“It probably hasn’t been moved for years. I don’t recall Mom or Dad ever showing us this or opening it,” said Aunt Liz.

They struggled to move the stone, but nothing worked.

“Maybe we need a crowbar?” suggested Kate.

“No,” Emily exclaimed. “That would wreck it!”

“I think she’s right,” Aunt Liz said. “There don’t seem to be any pry marks on the surface.”

“It’s another one of those mystery latches, I suppose,” Kate said in exasperation.

Emily moved along the base of the fireplace, pushing and prodding all the stones, but nothing budged the one she knew covered the secret opening.

“Maybe Ian was wrong!” Kate said, sitting back on her heels.

“He seemed pretty certain,” said Aunt Liz, tapping at the stones.

“This has to be it!” Emily declared.

“How could you know that?” Kate demanded.

“I just do!” Emily wasn’t about to explain.

They searched every inch of the fireplace, on the surface, on the mantel, and inside the firebox, looking for some kind of latch or trigger, but after another half-hour passed, they gave up.

“Maybe we should call Ian again,” Kate suggested.

“He told us all he knew,” said Aunt Liz. “He had no idea how it worked, just where it was supposed to be. He doesn’t even know if there’s anything inside it.”

Emily groaned. Wasn’t anyone in her family curious? How could they not know some of these things? She stared again at the fireplace. Everything was solid and immovable. How had her great-grandfather designed the hidden space? All at once, Emily’s face brightened. She could go back in time and find out.

“Maybe it’s written down somewhere,” proposed Aunt Liz.

“We went through all the papers quite thoroughly,” Kate answered. “I don’t see how we’d have missed something like that.”

“Maybe because we weren’t looking for it,” Aunt Liz chided. “I know exactly where the papers are. I’ll get them.”

Kate followed Aunt Liz out of the room to a second-floor bedroom. Emily had other plans.

“I’m going out for a walk before bed,” she called up to them, determined to find out how to open the hidden compartment. She just hoped the new plan would work to get her there faster.

“Don’t be gone long!” her mother yelled back.

I don’t plan on it, Emily thought to herself as she whisked out the door and headed for the special hole in the foundation. She didn’t waste any time, grubbing through the flower bed getting to the wall in search of Geordie’s carved bird.

She peered into the dark hole and at first saw nothing. Picking up a small stick from the ground, she prodded gently inside. If the bird was there, she didn’t want to come into direct contact with it. She wanted to be prepared in case she went shooting back into the past. At last, she felt the stick nudge something. She wiggled it towards her, holding her breath in anticipation, as the object neared the edge. She gasped in surprise.

Yes, it was the carved bird, but it was dull-looking, greyed and weathered – not at all like the fresh carving she had seen earlier. Of course, it had been there for nearly a century, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

She focused on her immediate task. Rubbing her hands on her jeans, she licked her lips and steadied herself, touching the house for support. Then she reached out and grasped the small carving. At the same time, she lost her footing and fell backwards. She landed on her butt and let out a little screech. She was looking at the same stone wall of the house, but she was in the past, sitting in the rubble and dirt surrounding the construction site, in the twilight.

Quickly, she got to her feet and looked about. She shook the debris off and crept around to the front of the house, looking for signs of human life. As she rounded the last corner, she heard a low whistle, almost like a birdcall. Peering through the dusk, she made out the dim figure of Geordie at the pigpen, waving to her.

As she walked across the yard, she admired the workmanship of the willow branches tightly woven into a fence that held the pigs in their pen. How simple, she thought, realizing they didn’t have access to any kind of wire fencing. She laughed quietly over the grunting of the pigs as they rooted at their feed in the trough, reaching Geordie moments later.

“Your plan worked!” she said.

“I’m so glad, lass! And so is Sorcha.”

The dog had appeared from the shadows, licking Emily’s hands and looking as if she’d welcome a run across the prairie.

“You’re a good dog,” Emily said, stroking her head. “I wonder how you got your name.”

“Sorcha means ‘radiant,’” Geordie said. “She’s got that little bit of gold in her coat – like a streak of sun.”

“That’s a wonderful name,” Emily said.

“And your first word of Gaelic,” Geordie said. “But you’re too early for the wedding. It’s not for two more days.”

“I know,” she said breathlessly. “I came to ask you a question.”

“Ask me, then.” He grinned at her, perching on the step that led into the pig shelter. “As you can see, I’m doing my favourite work.”

Emily grinned at him. “You’ll be doing harder work soon enough, I’d guess, with Sandy getting married,” she said.

“Aye, you may be right.” Geordie tapped the space on the step beside him. “But I have two more older brothers, and they are almost finished the house, so I don’t suppose they’ll give me anything important to do.”

Emily sat beside him, absently patting the dog. “I need to know about the secret hiding place in the fireplace,” she said. “How does it work?”

Geordie laughed. “How do you know about it? We haven’t even finished it yet.”

“But you will, and you must know how it’s going to work!” Emily insisted.

“Not really, lass,” he said. “My dad is a secretive person; he’s still working out the details and not likely to tell me.”

“Could we take a look? Maybe we could figure it out.”

Geordie shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose, but I don’t think there is much to see.” They walked towards the house.

“Where is the rest of the family? Inside?”

“No, they’ve gone home for supper, except for...”

Emily shrieked as Kate came around the corner. She had almost walked into her. Sorcha barked and circled Kate. Thank goodness they hadn’t collided. Emily didn’t know what would have happened, and she didn’t want to.

“Geordie, are you talking to ghosts now?” Kate asked peering around.

Geordie shook his head and dropped his hand to his side. Emily kept still, not moving a muscle. Sorcha licked her hand. Emily shook her head, but of course it had no effect.

“Well, come on then, I’ve finished with those blasted chickens.”

Emily knew Kate meant she’d been shooing the last of the chickens inside the henhouse, before closing them in for the night.

“I want to check that the house is secure, and then I’ll come,” he said dismissing his sister.

“Come now,” she said, “the house is fine, and don’t you know it. Mum will be crosser than a disturbed wood grouse if we’re late for supper again.”

Geordie looked out of the corner of his eye at Emily. She shrugged her shoulders and mouthed, “Go.”

Geordie sighed. “Can’t a man do anything without being ordered around?”

“First, you’re not a man,” Kate chuckled, “and second, what’s so important?”

In the dim light, Emily could see Geordie blush. “You’re overstepping your bounds, little lass,” he said with a touch of annoyance.

“What would you have me do?” She stood with her hands on her hips.

“Be a little more respectful of your elders,” he suggested.

“Ha! You’re not much older than me! Besides, what difference does it make how I behave?”

“You’ll mind one day,” he said. “What man wants a sharp-tongued lass for a wife?”

“Bosh,” Kate flung her head back. “As if I’m worried about that. Besides, what lass wants a man who pays her no mind?” she parried. “Whether I tell you straight out or I’m all fancy about it, it comes down to the same thing. We have to get home. I don’t see anything that needs to be done that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Geordie gave in. “Fine, Miss Bossy Boots. I’ll agree with you for the moment – there’s nothing that can’t wait for a little while longer,” he answered. “Whatever needs to be done, I’ll do tomorrow, and that’s a promise,” he added, pointedly looking at Emily.

Emily nodded, understanding that his last words were for her.

Geordie followed Kate, giving Emily a quick wave from his wrist. Sorcha trotted ahead of them. Geordie would find out about the hiding place tomorrow. Of course, it couldn’t hurt if she looked around by herself.

She waited until they’d disappeared over the crest of the hill, then she strode to the house. She examined the front step, but it was still roped off. She decided it might not be dry enough for her to walk on. Instead, she used the plank at the back door.

Inside, though, it was almost completely dark, like the inside of a well with a lid on it, and Emily knew she wouldn’t be able to see anything properly. She’d have to come back again during the day. She almost tripped on a small pile of rocks as she made her way back outside.

When she stepped outdoors, the stars glistened in the darkening sky and a soft breeze lessened the heat in the air. She could feel everything settling into silence, except for the faint hoot of an owl and the odd chirp of a cricket. Tiny scrabblings sounded in the grass a short distance across the yard.

Making her way back to the hole in the foundation, Emily manoeuvred herself into position and set the carved bird into its hiding space. But nothing happened. She stared down at the carving, then clutched it again in her hands. She shuffled about trying to find the exact spot she’d stood in when she came, but nothing worked. What did she have to do to get back home? Didn’t she have to leave the carving behind? As the questions crowded into her mind, she set the bird inside the hole and bent to look inside. As she did so, she stretched her hand against the stone house to steady herself.

Suddenly, she was back home! Of course! She had to be touching the house at the same time as she placed the carving in the empty space – just as she had to touch the sentinel rock and Emma’s special stone to move through time. She looked into the hole and saw the weathered carving perched inside. Yes, now she had a chance to do both things in the morning, to go to the wedding and watch the auction. She chuckled as she stepped out of the flowerbed and brushed herself off.

She found her mom and Aunt Liz at the kitchen table sorting through stacks of papers from a pile of filing boxes on the floor.

“Nothing yet,” Kate looked up as Emily entered the room.

“I’m going up, then,” Emily said.

“Would you like a snack before bed?” Aunt Liz asked.

Emily shook her head.

“You didn’t eat much supper. You should probably have something. Besides, we’re quitting now,” Kate declared.

“We are?” Aunt Liz asked with a raised eyebrow. “You might be, little sister, but I’m not.”

With hackles raised, Kate replied, “What’s the point of carrying on? There’s nothing here and you know it.”

“I don’t know it for sure, and neither do you.”

Kate stood, putting her hands on her hips. “I’ve had enough for one night. We all need to get some rest for the big day tomorrow. I don’t see anything that needs to be done that can’t wait until tomorrow. The work will still be waiting for us.”

“Since when are you in charge, Miss Bossy Boots?” Aunt Liz asked.

Kate spluttered. “I told you not to call me that!”

The little hairs on Emily’s arm stood up. She felt like she was hearing an echo. How uncanny that her mom and Kate from the past were so similar.

Aunt Liz laughed. “Then quit acting like that!”

Chagrined, her mother said, “Sorry, I guess I do get carried away at times.”

“Try
all
the time,” Aunt Liz said sarcastically, but with amusement in her voice.

Kate put her head in her hands, “I just can’t help it!”

“Don’t we know it,” Aunt Liz said, winking at Emily.

Emily breathed a sigh of relief. She’d never seen her mom and aunt fight before and was glad their differences had ended so amicably.

Emily cleared her throat. “I think I’ll just go to bed.”

Aunt Liz held out her arms. Emily went over and gave her a hug. “Pleasant dreams, kiddo.”

“Goodnight, Aunt Liz,” Emily squeezed her tight.

“Do I get one too?” Kate asked, giving her a lost-puppy look.

“Sure, Mom,” Emily went around and gave her a bear hug.