The Secret of the Stone House (5 page)

Except for the slight breeze that swished through the tall grass at her feet, the only sounds were distant calls of birds and the occasional
bzzt
of flies. Emily looked at the low angle of the sun. Why wouldn’t someone be around at this time of the day? But there was no time to explore further.

Emily turned on her heels and headed back to the rock. Instinctively, she knew she’d been gone too long. She’d have to figure out the circumstances of the
pioneer family on another trip. At least she was in the right place, although she wasn’t sure what year it was. She’d always had trouble judging how much time must have passed in the present while she’d been in the past.

Running headlong across the final meadow, she jumped in fright and twisted an ankle when a sharp-tailed grouse rose in the tall grass in front of her. Shaken, she rubbed the ankle till it stopped hurting, then continued at a more careful pace, making as much noise as possible as a warning to other meadow inhabitants.

At last, she reached the special rock. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath and wiped the sweat from her face. She fished the stone from her pocket and stared at it. Obviously, she was going to have to leave the stone behind, if she wanted to return home. She didn’t know whether she’d be able to find it again in the present, but there was no choice. She swept particles of dirt out of a deep crevice in the boulder about chest high.

She plopped in the stone with closed eyes, drew her fingers away, and squinted at her surroundings. She could see her grandmother’s house a quarter of a mile away. She was in present time again!

But was that it? Were her adventures over? Or would she be able to go back to the past another time? Emily searched the crevice uneasily, and then exhaled with relief. She saw the stone. Looking around her to be sure she was home, she touched the rock with one hand and snatched the stone up again with the other. Instantly, she was back in the past, with its tangled grass, wolf willow, and sage.

Wahoo!
She laughed aloud. She could travel at will now. Popping the stone back into its resting place, she found herself in the present. She breathed deeply of the sage and looked out across the fenced fields and pastures. Then she sprinted across the meadow for home, heat from the afternoon sun pounding down on her.

A dark green Ford pickup truck sped down the access road towards her grandmother’s farmyard. It must be Gerald Ferguson and his brother Donald. She was panting now, and she wished she’d brought along a bottle of water.

At last, she reached the barbed-wire fence and crawled through it. The Fergusons hadn’t yet arrived. She plodded up the porch steps, tuckered out.

Joining her mom and aunt in the kitchen, she headed straight for the cold water in the fridge. She gulped back a glassful, followed by a second one. She plopped on the edge of a chair to catch her breath.

“The Fergusons are on their way,” she gasped out.

Instantly, Kate jumped up from the table where she’d been sipping coffee and working at her laptop. She began tidying up her papers and packing up her machine.

Aunt Liz watched with interest.

“I’m just clearing the table in case we need to use it,” Kate said.

“Okay, if you say so,” Aunt Liz teased.

Kate gave her sister a piercing look, as she left the room with her arms laden. Moments later, the Ferguson’s truck pulled into the driveway.

Emily joined Aunt Liz on the back porch as Gerald and Donald alighted from their vehicle. Donald was almost the spitting image of Gerald, except he was a tad shorter and wore his sandy-coloured hair longer around his ears. Both men reminded Emily of the common expression “beanpoles.” They were thin and tall with long legs like a pair of stilts.

“Good afternoon, Liz,” Gerald said in his reserved way, reaching out to shake her hand.

“Nice to see you again, Gerald,” Aunt Liz smiled at him, “and you too, Donald.”

But as she turned to shake his hand, he grabbed her up in a bear hug.

“It’s been such a long time,” he grinned as he released her.

“Indeed,” she said with a wide grin.

Uh-huh, Emily thought to herself, Mom isn’t the only one who finds him attractive.

“And you must be Emily,” Donald advanced on her and took her hand firmly.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ferguson,” she said, noticing the crinkly laugh-lines around his warm blue eyes.

“Call me Donald,” he said, laughing, “Otherwise I won’t know who you’re talking to.”

“Okay,” Emily agreed, liking him already. She pulled herself away and acknowledged his younger brother.

“Hello,” she greeted Gerald.

He calmly shook her hand. “Nice to see you again, Emily.”

Emily noticed how rough and callused his hands felt compared to his brother’s. The screen door squeaked and her mother appeared beside her. She had tidied her hair and put on fresh lipstick.

“Hello, Gerald.” She nodded a greeting, staring directly at him. Then she took a quick breath and turned to Donald.

“You’ve come home,” she said with a slight smile.

“Just couldn’t stay away,” he grinned at her, then pulled her to him for a quick hug.

Flustered, Kate stepped back. “Do you want to come in, or shall we just get to it?” she asked.

“Still the same direct Kate.” He laughed, leaning casually against a column on the porch.

“What about you? I’m surprised you’re back at the farm,” Kate retorted.

“People change, I guess,” he answered with a relaxed shrug.

Her mom and Donald didn’t seem to have anything else to say. They just kept looking at one another.

Aunt Liz interrupted the silence, “How about I get the keys, and we’ll get started?”

“That would be fine,” Gerald answered. “I’ll go over and take a look at what needs to be done.”

“Emily, I left the list on the kitchen counter. Will you get it for me while I grab the keys?” Aunt Liz signalled her to follow, leaving Kate and Donald on their own.

Inside the house, Emily asked, “Are you sure that was such a good idea, Aunt Liz?” She handed her aunt the list.

Her aunt grinned. “Not to worry. I’m sure your mom doesn’t like it either, but they need to have a little time alone to get over their awkwardness. Might as well be right now.”

Aunt Liz grabbed a huge ring of keys from a drawer and headed back outside. Taking an apple from the fruit bowl on the table, Emily crunched on it as she stared out the window. She watched Kate and Aunt Liz cross the yard with Donald to join Gerald at the barn. Aunt Liz handed the keys to Gerald and they stood for a few moments discussing arrangements about the farm equipment.

The two men began to sort through the keys, matching them to the machinery. Judging by their body language, Kate seemed to be trying to take over the key ring, but Donald snatched it up and dangled the keys just out of her reach. Donald seemed to be teasing her about it. Everyone laughed, even Kate. Emily took one last bite of apple and headed back outside. She wanted to know more about Donald. Anyone who could make her mom laugh was someone worth knowing.

Once they started moving the equipment, Emily grew bored. Besides, now that she knew how to get back to the past, she wanted to find out more about the Elliotts’ lifestyle and new home. Over the roar of the machinery clanging and grinding into place, she signalled to her mom with her fingers walking across her palms that she was heading off again. She couldn’t hear her mom’s response, but there was no mistaking that she wanted her back soon. Emily held up two fingers and her mom nodded in agreement. Emily wasn’t sure if Kate thought she’d be back at two o’clock or in two hours, but she wasn’t waiting around to clarify it.

CHAPTER FOUR

This time Emily went more prepared.
She changed into some lightweight sweatpants and a loose-fitting, long-sleeved shirt. Then she doused herself with bug spray and took some bottled water before she retraced her steps back across the pasture. When she reached the rock and transported back in time, she took the identical path to the homestead site. She found everything the same, although it seemed later in the day. She went over to the house and peered into the tiny windows. Obviously, no one was home.

Next, she tried the sod barn partially built into the side of a hill, but there wasn’t even an animal inside. A pitchfork with broken tines leaned against one wall, but that was the only sign of habitation. The neatly stacked woodpile next to the barn seemed ready for use, and the yard was mowed, so obviously someone still lived here.

Emily circled the yard, poking into a little shed and what looked like a chicken coop before noticing a little outhouse tucked back into the trees. She came across rain barrels, and what she was sure was the entrance to the root cellar. Why didn’t they have any animals about? Even if the oxen or cows were out to pasture, surely they’d have pigs and chickens? Stumped, Emily sat down on a makeshift bench beside the house, letting a warm breeze waft over her perspiring face.

She tried to recall which direction the garden was from the house, but changes in vegetation disoriented her. She thought about possible reasons everyone would be gone. Maybe they’d all gone to town, but it didn’t seem logical for ten people to go at once, unless some were working in the fields or garden while the others had gone. But if some of them were about, why couldn’t she hear them?

She strained to make out any kind of sounds beyond the rustling of the poplar leaves and the twittering of birds. She would have expected to hear the ring of axes, or the clanking of the harness as the oxen worked the land. So where had everyone gone? Then she noticed a well-worn trail behind the barn. Maybe she’d follow it to see where it led. If she could find the garden and the cultivated fields, she’d know for sure someone still lived here.

The trail wound through scrubby brush and over a small rise. Emily had just started down the incline when she was startled by sharp barking. In the distance, she could make out the form of a dog bounding in her direction, and moments later, a human shape became clear. As the shapes drew closer, she saw a tall boy with a border collie well in the lead.

“Hello,” he called out long before he reached her.

At least he’s friendly, Emily thought, still not sure about the dog. But the collie rushed up to her, sniffing at her, then licking at her hand, as if expecting to be petted. She gave the dog a scratch behind the ears.

“You’re sure friendly,” she said, giving it long strokes down its back patches of black, white, and gold. The collie wagged its tail happily.

Emily noticed the boy’s jolt of red hair first. Then his cheerful face smattered with freckles. He looked so familiar. She gasped. At the same time, astonishment registered on the boy’s face.

“Is that really you, Emily, lass?” he asked with a Scottish lilt to his voice.

“Geordie?” she guessed.

“Yes, it’s me,” he assured her. “I never expected to see you again. Where have you been hiding?”

“Not far away,” she answered, still stunned. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been eight years old and much shorter. “You’ve grown so much,” she said.

“Aye, that I have,” he answered. “But then, I’m older too.”

“How old?” she asked eagerly.

“Well, I would be twelve now, going on thirteen,” he answered proudly. “Doesnae look like you’ve aged any, though to be sure, you look a mite shorter to me now.”

“Four years have passed?” Emily could hardly take the information in. That meant it was 1903.

He nodded. “We lost Emma, you know.”

“I know, I’m so sorry.” Emily felt her throat constrict with grief. “I wish I could have helped her.”

“Aye, lass,” he said touching her arm. “There was naught you could do. Though I wondered why you never returned.”

She wasn’t sure how to answer. Perhaps she could have helped Emma, she didn’t know. And how could she tell Geordie that he might have been the reason she couldn’t get back to help? She looked out across the prairie, trying to let go of her sorrow. Overhead, a V of geese honked in the lowering sun.

Suddenly she exclaimed. “But you can see me!”

“I always could,” he said, grinning. “Why do you think I followed you and Emma everywhere?”

“I knew that was you! Although you were pretty good at keeping hidden,” Emily admitted. She’d thought only Emma could see her, although their granny had sensed her too.