The Secret of the Stone House (13 page)

“Good night, sweet pea!” Kate said. Sweet pea was what her mom had called Emily when she was small. Maybe it reminded her of the time when their family had been happy together.

“Night.”

Emily hesitated by the door. “Do you want me to take some of those papers up with me and see if I can find something?”

“No thanks,” her mom said quickly. “We’ve got them all organized!”

Aunt Liz poked Kate in the arm. “You’re doing it again!”

Kate smiled and shook her head. “Thanks anyway, Em, but you need your rest. We’ll have plenty of time after the sale,” she said more gently.

“Unless you really want some reading material,” Aunt Liz said. “I came across this journal of your great-grandmother’s that you might find interesting.”

“Sure,” Emily took the leather-bound journal with pleasure. It was one more connection to her past and to her ancestors.

As Emily headed upstairs, she savoured the familiarity of her grandmother’s house, trying to remember how many times she’d gone up these same stairs. She found herself reminiscing about how the house used to be when her grandmother was alive, where the furniture sat, and all the knick-knacks and the pictures on the walls. Everything was blank now, except for the memories. And after tomorrow, there was no going back to the way the farm used to be.

Suddenly, she realized that the step near the top of the attic stairs hadn’t squeaked as usual. Had she not stepped in the right place? She tested it again, putting her weight in different places. No more creaking. She recalled Geordie pounding the extra nails into the step. Was that why it was silent now?

Could she affect the present by what she did in the past? That could be scary! Nailing a step didn’t seem too serious, but what if she altered their lives somehow?

She undressed slowly, considering the possibilities. After she pulled her nightgown over her head, Emily padded over to the trunk at the bottom of her bed and drew out her grandmother’s “crazy” quilt. There were pieces of clothing sewn into it from all of her grandmother’s family, all the people that Emily knew from pioneer times. She found a chunk of Geordie’s shirt and a swatch of Emma’s blue flowered dress.

Everything kept changing in her life – in the past and in the present. She’d had no idea at Easter time that her parents would be splitting up. And returning to the past, she found great changes had taken place with Emma’s family too.

Crawling under her covers, she drew her grandmother’s quilt over her and picked up her great-grandmother’s journal. She read, “Margaret Elsbeth” on the inside front cover. The diary began three years after they’d moved to Canada on July 13, 1903. Emily skimmed the pages and laughed when she came to an entry that read,
“Today Kate dropped the cream jug and tried to blame it on Beth. Fortunately, we can still use it, as the handle and spout are intact.”

Emily continued reading here and there until she came to August 29, 1903.
“A beautiful day for my dear son’s wedding...”
She stopped herself from reading more. She wanted to see the wedding for herself. She jumped backwards a few pages and began reading again.

She was almost mesmerized to sleep, reading all the entries about weather, purchasing stock, gardening, preserving, and general activities they did in their daily lives, just to exist. Finally, she gave up trying to keep her eyes open and set the diary on her nightstand, switching off the light with a contented yawn.

CHAPTER TEN

BRIIIIING.
Emily sat up. Her heart racing,
she stared ahead in a daze. Then she thumped her alarm clock, and flopped back down.
5:30 a.m.
She groaned, then swung her feet out of bed and tiptoed to her clothes. She moved quietly, fumbling as she dressed, still not quite awake, but determined to see Geordie first thing.

Even though she knew the step didn’t squeak anymore, she avoided it, just in case. Her mom’s bedroom door was closed tightly as she passed by, but Aunt Liz’s was open a crack. Emily slid by and made it to the kitchen without any problem – and came to a dead halt. Aunt Liz was making coffee at the counter.

Her aunt started, “Sheesh, you scared me, Emily.”

“Sorry, Aunt Liz.” Emily inched to the back door and set down the sneakers she’d been carrying.

“What are you doing up so early? Not able to sleep?”

“Not really,” Emily admitted. “I thought I’d go out for some air.”

“How about we go together?” Aunt Liz suggested.

Darn, thought Emily. How would she ever get away? She couldn’t say no to her aunt without seeming rude.

“Sure,” Emily said lightly.

“I’ll be with you in a jiffy,” Aunt Liz poured herself a cup of the fresh brew.

Emily sat on the step in the quiet of early dawn and gazed out across the peaceful farmyard and the pastures beyond. Sparrows flitted back and forth across the yard, and canaries and goldfinches twittered in the caraganas at the side of the house. After the auction, she and her mom would only be here for two more days, before they closed up the house and left for an indefinite time. She breathed deeply, trying to absorb as much as possible of her serene surroundings to remember later.

Aunt Liz touched her shoulder and handed her a glass of orange juice as she sat beside her. Together they looked out over the landscape in silence. A hawk soared overhead, then dived into a nearby field. The air smelled fresh and clean, although it was already warming with the rising sun, promising to be another scorcher of a day.

Emily stirred from the interlude. Since there was no chance for her to go into the past, she might as well start to unload the boxes of household goods that rested under the tarps, on the tables in front of the house. She sauntered over to one end. Aunt Liz followed, and they worked silently, setting out toasters, electric frying pans, sets of dishes, meat grinders, and huge roasters. Once they finished the kitchen things, they worked on the pictures and frames and other decorative objects from the china cabinet and walls of the house. Linens and clothing came next.

Emily and her aunt said little as the tables came alive with the personal effects of the family. When they finished, they stood back and admired their work. Emily caught sight of her mother watching from the veranda and motioned her over.

Kate joined them, forming a row along the table: Kate, Emily, Aunt Liz. The three of them instinctively put their arms around each other’s waists and surveyed the scene. Several moments later, they heard the sound of a tractor in the distance. All at once, the morning became active with the cawing of crows and the crowing of a rooster somewhere in the distance. A cow bellowed and they could hear the faint tinkle of its bell.

“Ready for breakfast?” Aunt Liz broke the contemplative mood. “I’m making pancakes.”

“Mmm, great!” Emily could already taste her aunt’s mouth-watering whole wheat-blueberry pancakes. She served them with plain yogourt and chokecherry syrup. They were the best Emily had ever eaten.

“I’ll set the table,” she offered, heading for the house.

They left Kate outside, wandering down the row of tables. Emily saw her from the window, fingering objects, moving them slightly, lining them up a little more squarely. By the time she finished, everything was in neat rows. Emily motioned Aunt Liz to come and see. When her mom came into the house, Emily and Aunt Liz laughed at her.

“What?” she asked innocently, knowing very well what they found so funny.

By the time they’d eaten and tidied up the kitchen, the auctioneer’s truck was pulling into the driveway. Two men got out and began setting up the sound system and the table where buyers would sign up for their numbered paddles and make their payments.

Shortly afterwards, the women from the local community group arrived. Agnes Barkley, wearing a baggy flowered tent dress, was among the first to poke her head inside. She gathered Emily into a huge, billowing hug that left them both gasping for breath. The kitchen grew crowded as the ladies began preparing big urns of coffee and arranging the lunch area in the veranda. They bustled in and out for water and utensils and cutting boards. They unloaded assorted sandwiches from plastic containers, along with home-baked tarts and squares and a few pies. One of the women started water boiling for hot dogs, even though it was too early to serve them.

Emily and her aunt carried out all the condiments, the plastic cups, stir sticks and other necessary gear. At the last minute, Kate decided there should be places for people to sit, and whisked out to the garage and brought back stacks of lawn chairs, which she set in the shade beside the house and on the veranda. When the coffee was ready, Emily carried two Styrofoam cups filled with coffee out to the auctioneers. Gerald and Donald came to get their own.

Just as Emily felt there was a lull with nothing left to do but wait, the first vehicles pulled into the yard. Before she knew it, the parking area filled up and the overflow lined both sides of the road, with the rest directed to a designated area in the pasture. Just like being at the town fair, except more compact, Emily thought. The only things missing were horse racing and bingo.

Emily meandered through the crowd, greeting neighbours. Soon everyone gathered in front of the long tables, where Pete Steinbeck, the jaunty auctioneer, began his spiel through a megaphone. Emily couldn’t keep up with his fast-paced talk, but obviously others could, and soon the bidding began. She watched for a good half-hour, caught up in the excitement, then realized with a jolt that she needed to get to Geordie’s if she was going make it to the wedding. The sun was already higher than she expected.

Strolling up to the house, she saw her mom and aunt sipping coffee on the porch steps. Everything seemed under control, although Agnes Barkley eyed her movements with interest.

Nonchalantly, Emily lost herself in the crowd surrounding the tables, until she was certain Mrs. Barkley couldn’t see her. She edged away, while everyone’s focus was on the bidding. Slipping around the corner of the house, Emily quickly reached the secret spot. Her hand on the wall, she felt inside the hole and took out the carving.

Instantly, she felt herself flung into the past. The sun hadn’t quite reached the highest point in the sky, so Emily knew she hadn’t missed going to the wedding. Not a sound came from within the stone house or the surrounding yard. Of course, she thought, they didn’t live here yet. She hurried to the old homestead site. As she ran, Emily pulled a cloth-covered elastic out of her pocket and tied her hair back to keep it from flying into her face.

Even before she reached the sod house, she could hear the pandemonium. The family called to one another as they harnessed two chestnut Clydesdale draft horses and hooked them up to the farm wagon. They walked them over to the shed. From the side of the building, George Sr., Sandy, and Jack carried planks and sawhorses, loading them easily into the back of the wagon. Then they continued to the house.

There the girls and their mom chatted as they carried crocks and bowls of food to the wagon. Duncan and Geordie loaded them tightly against the back of the seat, making sure they wouldn’t move on the journey. Geordie unloaded the last of the firewood inside the house, dodging the girls’ procession.

Emily watched from behind a stand of poplars next to the house. Geordie hadn’t spotted her yet. She didn’t know how to get his attention without distracting him. Then to her dismay, as if on some hidden cue, the family scrambled into the wagon. Geordie’s parents sat on the front seat with Molly squeezed between them. All the others scrambled into the back of the wagon and sat on the boards placed like benches along the sides. Geordie hopped onto the end with his legs dangling over the edge. Sorcha tried to hop on board too.

“Stay, girl!” Geordie’s dad commanded. Sorcha made a couple of circles in the middle of the road, and whined, but she stayed in the yard.

Emily waited for her chance. As the wagon creaked past her, she leapt onto the end beside Geordie. Startled, he grabbed for her, nearly letting her fall as she scrambled to get settled. The commotion caused everyone in the back of the buggy to turn around. Fortunately, Molly was tucked between her parents and couldn’t see behind her.

“I wasn’t hanging on proper,” he called to them. “I’m fine now.”

Emily clutched him, trying to right herself. Geordie grinned from ear to ear.

“I’m glad you made it in time,” he whispered, his voice unnoticed under the chatter of the family and the rumbling of the wagon wheels.