Wonderland Creek (35 page)

“No, I’m not expecting any patrons.” I couldn’t help smiling.

“Well, I know a real good picnic spot that I’m dying to show to you.” He could see that my resolve was weakening. He reached for my hand, pulling me out of my chair and away from my desk. I couldn’t believe I was agreeing. Back home I never would have shirked my library duties for something as frivolous as a picnic. My devotion used to annoy Gordon, who would sometimes beg me to leave early if the library was deserted. I had always refused.

“We won’t be gone all day,” Ike assured me. “Just for lunch. You got something we can make sandwiches out of?”

“Sandwiches? I’m sorry but I don’t have any bread.” He gave me a puzzled look, as if he’d never heard of running out of bread before. I felt embarrassed. “We haven’t had any real bread since Mack’s funeral, just corn bread or biscuits.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t know how to bake it. Back home we buy our bread at the store.”

“Oh. I guess we can make do with corn bread, then.” We went out to the kitchen and put together a quick lunch. I brought a tray upstairs to Lillie and told her where I was going while Ike wrapped our lunch in a dish towel and packed it in Lillie’s picking basket.

We left through the back door, carrying a blanket to sit on, and followed a path I had never taken before, downstream from the library instead of upstream. We crossed the creek by leaping from stone to stone, then followed a narrow dirt road until we came to an orchard. The fruit trees were all in bloom, flowering in delicate shades of white and pastel pink. I could hear bees buzzing, drawn by the sweet-smelling blossoms.

“Oh, Ike, this is a beautiful place!”

“You like it?”

“I love it!” I whirled in a circle like a character in a movie. I would have danced if there had been music. We spread the blanket on the ground and sat down to eat. Pastel petals showered down on us like confetti every time a breeze blew. I couldn’t imagine a more romantic setting.

“I’m glad you decided to stay in Acorn,” Ike said as we ate. “And not just for my sake, either. Mack worked real hard setting up that library and there wasn’t anybody but you who could’ve run it for him.”

“I know. I’m hoping to teach the packhorse ladies how to do the work so they can take over when I do have to go home.”

He smiled. “I hope they’re slow learners so it takes a while.”

“I also want to process the non-fiction books the right way before I go, and set up a card catalogue so it’ll be easier to find a book. Mack seemed to know every book by heart, but no one else does.”

“Speaking of Mack, you know what never made any sense to me? His hunting accident. I went out hunting with him a couple of times before I learnt he was a Larkin, and he was always real careful around guns. I don’t see how he coulda shot himself.”

I felt a flush spreading up my cheeks and hoped it wouldn’t give anything away. I was a terrible liar. My father could spot a fib in an instant and would “paddle the devil out of me” for it. That’s exactly what he used to say, after showing me the verse in the Bible that said Satan was “the father of lies.”

I swallowed the corn bread I was chewing and held up my hands in innocence. “Don’t ask me, Ike. I don’t know anything at all about guns. Or hunting. And I was only in town one day when it happened.”

“You know what I think? I think somebody shot him.”

“Who would want to shoot him?” It was the question I had been asking since the day it happened.

“The people who run the coal mine are at the top of my list.”

“Why?” I had to step carefully, just as I had when hopping on the stones to cross the creek.

“They found out that Mack was writing a book, telling how they cheat all us miners. And after Hank Coots died, Mack started snooping around and asking a lot more questions. I never did believe that Hank died in an accident any more than I believe that Mack shot himself.”

“Why would Mack lie about it? Wouldn’t he want whoever shot Hank to go to jail?”

“Jail? Ha! The sheriff would never put the mine owners in jail. They’re his friends. I think Mack lied so whoever did it wouldn’t come back and shoot more people for standing up for Hank.”

“But now there won’t be any justice.”

“There ain’t no justice around here. It’s every man for himself. Whoever starts snooping around might be next.” His words sent a chill through me. We ate in silence for a long moment, then Ike reached for my hand.

“You know why I brought you here?”

“Because it’s so beautiful with the trees in bloom? So sweet-smelling?”

“That’s part of it,” he said, laughing. “But I also wanted to show you this place because I think this is where the treasure is buried.”

“Really?” My heart sped up, but whether it was from the idea of finding buried treasure or from the warmth of Ike’s fingers as he caressed my hand, I couldn’t tell. “Have you found the treasure map?”

“No. But I been doing a lot of thinking. If you draw a straight line between Isaac Larkin’s house and Wilbur Arnett’s house—they’re the two men who buried the treasure—this orchard is smack-dab in the middle.”

“Really? That’s fascinating. Where are these two houses?”

“My family and I live in Great-Granddaddy Arnett’s house, up there on the hill. And you’re living in Great-Granddaddy Larkin’s place.”

“The library?”

“That’s right. So I paced it all out one day, walking in a straight line from my house to Mack’s, and guess what?”

“This orchard is halfway between the two?”

“Right. Now, if only I knew exactly where to dig . . .”

My excitement grew as I glanced around the orchard. Buried treasure? “Well, if I were going to bury a treasure,” I said, “I would look for a landmark to use as a point of reference. You know, a big rock or a huge tree.”

“That’s a great idea!” But Ike’s enthusiasm quickly turned to a frown. “Except that they planted this orchard about ten years ago and the treasure’s been buried for more than sixty.”

“What was on this property sixty years ago?” I asked.

“Far as I know, it was just woods. I remember when they cleared this land to plant the trees.”

“Who owns the orchard? And is he an Arnett or a Larkin?”

“It belongs to the postmaster. He ain’t related to either side.”

“But the treasure would rightfully belong to him if it’s on his property.”

Ike leaned close to me. “We would have to dig it up at night,” he said in a whisper.

“We?”

“Don’t you want to help me? It would be an adventure, Alice. And it seems fitting that we’d be the ones to find it since you and I are living in the two great-granddaddies’ houses. We could split it fifty-fifty and leave Acorn for good.”

I laughed. “As exciting as a treasure hunt sounds, Ike, I don’t think I want to get mixed up in this feud.” Or go to jail for theft and property damage.

“Well, you think about it some more—and meanwhile, I’ll try to look for a landmark.” He glanced all around as if one might pop up any minute. Then he turned his attention back to me. “You won’t tell anyone what I figured out, will you?”

“I promise not to say a word. Your secret is safe with me.” I made a gesture of locking my lips shut with a key and throwing it over my shoulder.

He moved even closer and ran his finger over my lips. “I better make sure that secret is sealed real tight.” Ike took my face in his hands and kissed me beneath the canopy of apple blossoms.

Leapin’ lizards!
as Little Orphan Annie would say. I could forget my own name after a kiss like that, let alone a secret. The kiss lasted longer than our previous one had, but it still ended much too soon.

“Thanks for the picnic,” I murmured when I could speak. “I’d better get back to the library now.” We walked hand in hand until we had to cross the creek, then parted when the library came in sight.

“Until next time,” Ike said with a wink. He turned and walked back toward the orchard. I returned to the library, completely incapable of concentrating on anything.

Belle and I were following the creek on my book route early the next day when Mack stepped out of the bushes near his cabin, startling me. “Don’t do that! You scared me!”

“Sorry . . . Can I talk to you?”

“What’s wrong?” He hadn’t shaved, and I could tell by the deep crease between his eyebrows that he was worried. He had never waylaid me on my trip upstream before, so his worry became contagious.

“Not here. Come back into the woods with me.” He grabbed Belle’s bridle and led us back to the glade. I had to crouch low in the saddle to keep from hitting my head on the low-hanging branches.

“Will this take long? Should I dismount?”

“Yeah. You’d better get off.”

I welcomed the chance. I had been riding for three weeks, but I still wasn’t used to it, and I felt chafed and saddlesore at the end of each day after riding. Mack motioned to the circle of stones and we both sat down. He hadn’t built a fire in the pit, and I shivered in the cool shade.

“That letter I got from Washington?” he began. “It’s from someone at the mining bureau. He’s willing to take another look into Hank’s death.”

“That’s good news . . . isn’t it?”

“Yes. But he needs me to send him some new evidence before they’ll reopen the case.”

“Why do I have a feeling that this is going to involve me?”

“Listen, Alice. Ever since you told me the files were still in the mine office, I’ve been trying to figure out how I can get a look at them.”

I stuck my fingers in my ears. “Don’t tell me your plans. The less I know, the easier it is not to lie.”

He grabbed my hands and pulled them down, holding them for a moment so I wouldn’t plug my ears again. “I have to tell you some of my plans because I need your help.”

“Oh no. I distinctly remember you saying that from now on, the only thing I had to do for you was bring food.”

“I don’t really need you—I need Belle. I’m still not strong enough to walk all the way to the mine. All you’ll have to do is ride up here a week from next Tuesday night and bring her to me.”

“Why that night?”

“Because the
Almanac
says there won’t be a moon on April twenty-first. I need the night to be as dark as possible so I won’t be seen.”

“Wait. Maggie says it’s dangerous to come up here at night because of the wildcat.”

“Maggie worries too much.”

“She saw paw prints on her property.”

He made a face, waving away my concerns. “If you would bring Belle up here for me, I could ride her to the mine, get what I need, and ride back. Hopefully before dawn.”

“If you expect me to sit in your creepy cabin all by myself all night, you’re out of your mind!”

“You can always ride to the mine and back with me if you don’t want to wait here all alone. I could use your help going through the files, but that’s up to you. I won’t force you to do it. Either way, I need you to bring Belle up here to the cabin on the night of the twenty-first.”

“You said the sheriff has people watching the mine.”

“I said ‘maybe.’ That’s why I need to go at night.”

“You’re crazy! What are you going to tell him when he catches you breaking in? That you came to use the telephone?”

“I’ll tell him to stop helping the Jupiter Coal Company cover up Hank’s murder and put the people who were responsible for it in jail.”

“You think the mine officials committed murder?”

“I’m convinced that Hank Coots’s death wasn’t an accident, but I need proof. That’s why I need to look in those files.”

“Why would they keep incriminating evidence in plain sight like that?”

“Because they’re stupid, Alice. And they think they’re above the law. With the sheriff in their pocket, they can get away with anything, cover up any crime.”

I remembered that Ike had said the same thing, that there was no justice. And like Mack, he also thought that Hank’s death hadn’t been an accident. But did I want to get mixed up in this?

“Don’t you see, Alice? It has taken me all this time just to find a government official in Washington who would agree to reopen the investigation. But I have to show him some new evidence. I want justice for Hank and Maggie, and this is the only way I can think of to get proof. Will you please bring Belle up here for me that night?”

I hesitated. Mack gripped my shoulders, and I could see his impatience. “I’m not asking you to help me break in or take anything. Just bring me the blasted horse! Can’t you do that much? For Maggie’s sake at least, if not for mine?”

“Maggie Coots is my friend, and I know she misses her husband. But if I help you and we’re caught, I’ll be in as much trouble as you are.”

He let go of my shoulders and exhaled. “Okay. Do me a favor, then. Talk to Maggie when you see her today. Don’t say a word about what I’m doing, but ask her to tell you about Hank and the work that he was involved in before he died. That’s all I ask. Maybe it will help you make up your mind. But please do it soon, Alice. Because if I don’t go on that night, I’ll have to wait another month until there’s another moonless night.”

I left a few minutes later. Talking with Mack had made me late, so I didn’t have time for an unscheduled visit with June Ann. I hoped Lillie’s two tonics were working. Maggie’s cabin was the last stop on my route that day, and it was such a warm afternoon that she and I sat outside on her porch, talking. I had no idea how to bring up the subject of her husband’s death, but when she asked me how my romance with Ike was going, I saw the perfect chance.

“He took me on a picnic yesterday. He came into the library on the spur of the moment, and said ‘Let’s go.’ He took me to somebody’s orchard and it was a beautiful, romantic place with all of the apple trees in blossom.” I sighed, remembering.

“Sounds like someone is getting swept off her feet.”

“Maybe . . . a little. Was it like that with you and Hank?”

“Hardly! We locked horns over Hank’s younger brothers for the longest time. He didn’t approve of my teaching style, to say the least. But you know what they say, sparks can produce flames.”

“Ike talked about Hank yesterday. He said he didn’t think his death was an accident. Do you agree? That it wasn’t an accident?”