The Secret of the Stone House (4 page)

Emily accepted it reluctantly, turning it over in her hand.

“Too bad we don’t know what the key fits,” Kate said.

“You don’t?” Emily was surprised.

“I sure don’t,” her mom said.

“Not a clue,” said Aunt Liz.

Emily noted that the key was smaller than one used for a padlock, but larger than a diary key.

Aunt Liz said, “It obviously belongs to a smaller box of some kind, like a jewellery box or something. But I don’t recall seeing anything likely while we were sorting through things.”

“Me either,” Kate shook her head. “It’s probably nothing important, or it’s long gone. You could probably just chuck that.”

“No way,” Emily protested at the same time as Aunt Liz objected.

“The box has to be somewhere,” Aunt Liz looked in disbelief at her sister.

“Okay, okay,” Kate said in self-defence. “I just don’t see where anything like that could be, after all the sorting and cleaning we’ve done.”

Tucking it into her pocket, Emily said decisively. “I’m sure we’ll find it.”

She was eager to know what the key was for and what it might reveal. It had to be somewhere. She’d just have to search for it.

They continued down the length of the room, stopping beside each piece of furniture. Emily nodded her head each time, indicating that it wasn’t going anywhere near the auction block.

“I really don’t agree with you keeping all this stuff,” her mom complained again.

“It’s a good thing Gerald Ferguson is letting us use the house for as long as we want!” said Aunt Liz.

“Yes, although I’m not sure if he meant until Emily was grown up!” Kate shook her head in dismay as she looked over all the furniture.

“Why not?” protested Emily. “He’s only buying the land. He doesn’t want the house now that he’s built his new one.”

“I suppose,” said her mom, reluctantly. “You are so much like your gran! Both pack rats!”

Emily wasn’t sure if her mom was smiling or grimacing. Either way, Emily was glad she was going to be able to keep the furniture.

As they moved on to the boxes, Aunt Liz didn’t even bother opening them. They were stacked and clearly labelled: a selection of pioneer clothing, glass negatives, photo albums, and the old camera and developing equipment her Grandmother Renfrew had used. As they scanned them, it was plain that everything was staying.

“Whew, that was probably the easiest floor to do,” said Aunt Liz. “I thought it would be the worst.”

“I guess we did a thorough enough job sorting in the spring,” Kate agreed, heading back down the stairs. “Just seems like we didn’t get rid of enough.”

“We hauled plenty out,” Emily said, remembering how many trips she’d made up and down the stairs, and out to the bins and veranda where everything was stored for the upcoming auction. Her mother seemed to guess what she was thinking.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near them,” Kate said, looking pointedly at Emily.

Aunt Liz laughed, “Yeah, we sure don’t want stuff coming back in!”

When they reached the second floor, they automatically headed into Gran Renfrew’s old bedroom. The only furniture left in it was the oak bed, a matching dresser, and a little table with a lamp on it, for when they came to stay. A small stack of boxes with extra bedding and linens stood in one corner. Aunt Liz was using the room this time. Her mom had a smaller one down the hall, and the third one was already empty.

“You don’t need me anymore, do you?” asked Emily, hopeful that she could escape. She fingered the key in her pocket and thought again about the stones lying on her bed. “You already know what I want, and I haven’t changed my mind about anything.”

Her mom sighed. “I suppose you can go for awhile. Just don’t be gone too long,” she cautioned. “I don’t want to have to come looking for you.”

Emily was already halfway up the stairs, dashing to her room to collect her stones. Now she could try out her plan! Excitement tingled throughout her body. She was free for a while at least.

She strode over to her nightstand with the key in her hands. She fingered it one more time, looked over at her bed and back at the key. Reaching a decision, she placed the key safely in the top drawer. She’d search for the box later. She didn’t want to miss this opportunity to leave the house.

Closing her bedroom door securely, she listened for a few moments to make sure her mom and Aunt Liz hadn’t decided to come upstairs again. As an extra precaution against any intrusions, she pushed the chair in front of the door and wedged it under the handle. Quickly, she changed from a pair of shorts into a pair of jeans. If she was successful returning to the past, she didn’t want to shock anyone from the olden days by revealing her bare legs.

She gently lifted her jacket from the bed and laid it on the trunk to reveal the scattered stones once again. She picked each one up, rubbed it and returned it into the embroidered bag, skirting the special black stone and saving it to the end. It was crucial to her success. At least, she hoped so.

When she’d used it before, she’d slipped back a hundred years. Her fingers trembled as she reached out to pick up the mysterious stone.

Did it have any power left? Would she be flipped into the past, or did she need to be at the sentinel rock for it to work? If she touched it right where it lay, she had no idea where she might end up. Did she dare touch the stone now?

Mulling it over, she concluded she’d never gone anywhere by just touching the stone. Taking a deep breath, she clutched it. Moments passed. She remained on her bed. Sighing in relief, she tucked the stone into the pocket of her jeans, returned the others in the bag, along with her journal, to their hiding place under the window ledge. Then she removed the chair barricading the door and left the room.

She dodged her mom and Aunt Liz on the second floor, with a brisk, “See you later.”

“Be back soon,” her mom called out.

Emily could hear the pair of them shuffling the boxes in the second bedroom. She didn’t plan to be gone long. She only wanted to see if the stone still worked, until she hatched the rest of her plans.

The sun was probably at its hottest, Emily thought as she hurried across the yard and scrambled under the barbed-wire fence into the pasture. Overhead, swallows dove towards the barn. A smudge of tiny flies buzzed about her as she strode across grasslands ripe with summer flowers and blooming sage. The sky was clear and the air stifling, with no sign of a breeze. Crows cawed through the air and jays swooped onto fence posts.

Emily stopped and closed her eyes. She let herself drift, breathing deeply. She could almost feel her grandmother beside her. As she continued walking, she followed the same path they had often travelled together picking herbs and berries. She passed poplar bluffs filled with wrens and larks trilling their pleasure in the day. At times, she followed the deer trail over the rough terrain, dodging boulders half-hidden in the tall, tangled grass.

Heading up the gradual incline, she came at last to the outcropping of rocks. The special rock that she and her grandmother had climbed when Emily was younger sat on the edge of a coulee, overlooking a long shallow valley that stretched as far as she could see.

When she reached the base of the large dolomite rock, she stopped and thought through everything carefully. Moving to the front of the rock, she gave one last look across the meadow towards Grandmother Renfrew’s stone house. She looked again at the patchwork of neatly fenced fields and pastures below, and then at the skyline to the tops of the elevators that marked the town of Glenavon, way off in the distance.

Circling the rock to the other side, with the makeshift toeholds scraped into the crevices, she stared across the flat prairie. Calmly, she pulled the stone out of her pocket and held it tight. Using her other hand, with palm facing outward, she closed her eyes and reached out to touch the rock.

CHAPTER THREE

The moment Emily touched the rock,
her
eyes popped open.
It worked!

She couldn’t stop grinning. In front of her was the familiar landscape of the past. Where flat open prairie had stretched in her own time, there was now a large bluff of aspen and scrubby brush. Wolf willow and silver sage dotted the wild countryside, broken only by a meandering creek. All the cultivated and fenced land had disappeared.

She’d done it! Now, could she get back home again? Successfully coming one direction didn’t mean she could safely return. The way it had worked in the springtime was that she’d kept the stone in her pocket while she stayed in the past. When she wanted to return to her own time, all she’d had to do was leave the stone in a crevice of the sentinel rock. Would it all work the same this time? The only thing she could do was try it.

Cautiously, she slid the warm stone into the side pocket of her blue jeans. With trembling fingers, she let it go. Nothing happened. She sighed with relief.

Glancing over her shoulder at the stand of aspens, she looked for the trail she knew led to the Elliott homestead. From where she stood, she couldn’t see it. I’ll just take a quick peek she thought, reminding herself again that she needed to be home soon. Walking over to the aspen stand, she trekked around the outside edge, looking for the entrance to the trail. Where was it?

Sudden fear prickled the back of her neck. What if she hadn’t come back to the right time period? She backed away towards the rock, looking for identifiable landmarks. The meadow to her left should be brimming with chamomile and medicinal plants, but everything was tall grasses and foxtails. The thicket of aspens seemed familiar, but something was different. All at once, she knew what it was. Everything had matured. The trees were bigger now and the grass meadows fuller and wilder.

Searching diligently and bending low, Emily at last found a narrow animal path through the trees. The family mustn’t use it anymore. Everything had grown over. She fought her way inside the bluff, pushing branches out of the way and stumbling over the tangled undergrowth. Was she going in the right direction? She looked behind her and decided she could always find her way out again. She’d left a definite trail of broken twigs and trampled underbrush that anyone could follow. So much for her grandmother’s teachings of leaving nature as she’d found it!

The air was humid and sticky as she struggled her way through to the other side of the dense trees. The season seemed to be similar to what she’d left behind, although she sensed it might be a little later towards fall. The mosquitoes found her without effort, and so did the tiny blackflies. Sweaty, scratched, and frustrated, she at last emerged into a clearing, and stood with her mouth gaping open.

The original dwelling site was gone! The small meadow in the centre of the trees seemed to be the same. But where once there had been an open firepit, and a clothesline stretched between two large poplar trees, now there was nothing. The rough fence made of branches to confine the pigs and the oxen had fallen down in ruins. She could see only traces of it. The spot where the three grey tents had been before the family had moved to their sod house was no longer visible. Quick-growing poplars encroached into the entire area. It was obvious no one had been there in a long time.

Emily’s mind whirred with questions. Was she in the right time period? And if so, was this the right place? She retraced her steps in her mind. Yes, she’d definitely come in the right direction from the rock. But if the bluff of trees had grown to such a great extent, then how much time had passed?

She swung around, trying to get her bearings. Where was the Elliott family? Why couldn’t she hear anyone working? Where was the well, and what about the path through the meadow that led to their sod house? Their home should be just across the small meadow and over the next rise, easily within hearing distance. Obviously, they no longer used this area for any of their needs.

Emily stumbled through the meadow in the general direction of the sod house. Oblivious to the tall grasses and thistles whipping at her legs and arms, she hurried to the top of the incline. She had only a few precious moments before she had to return home.

She reached the crest of the hill. There it was – the sod house. Only it was bigger now, and the yard was more developed. A lean-to had been added to one wall of the soddie, and some straggly delphiniums and lilies planted on either side of the doorway. But the place seemed deserted. There was no movement anywhere.