All Things Hidden

by Tricia Goyer

“Because it might turn out Grandma will start liking Kendall, and then she’ll be sad when I stop hanging around with her.”

  “You’re going to stop?”

  Sam shrugged. “I’m not sure. I might. She’s really cool, and she reminds me of …” Sam paused.

  “Mom?”

  Sam’s eyes widened. “Do you think so too?”

  “Yeah, she laughs like Mom. The first time I heard Kendall laugh at school my heart totally started pounding. Maybe they walk the same too. I don’t know, but I agree that Kendall reminds me of Mom. What I don’t understand is why you’d stop talking to her.”

  “It’s complicated. There’s stuff you don’t need to know. I have some questions, some things I need to find answers for.” Sam zipped his jacket back up and pulled on his boots. “Anyway, I’m heading out.”

  “Where?”

  Sam grabbed a scarf and wrapped it around his neck. “I’m just going to see what Kendall is up to tonight.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier just to call?”

  “Of course, but then it would be easier for her to say she’s busy too. See you in a little bit.”

  Emily rolled her eyes as her brother headed out the door. Then she took the two paper plates with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to Andrea. “Here you go. I’ll pour us some milk too.”

  “Great, thanks.” Andrea smiled. “So what do we have left to do?” she asked as she took a big bite of her sandwich.

  “We have everything we need. We just have to figure out who’s going to say what in our report.”

  “I can talk about the Czech newspaper ads, and the different settlers from all over the world,” Andrea volunteered.

  “Okay, I’ll talk about the railroad and how Nebraska towns popped up because of the depots.”

  “Yeah, and how some of the depots got there because the steam engines needed water towers where they could fill up.”

  “What should we have Lily talk about?” Emily tapped her pencil against the table.

  “She can hold the signs and operate the train.” Andrea laughed.

  The door opened, and Grandma entered. Christopher followed, carrying a large box.

  “The train!” Emily jumped up. “Thanks, Grandma, for picking it up for me. Did you tell Miss Middleton hi for me?”

  “Yes, I did. Sadly, she didn’t look very well.”

  “That’s not good. I wonder if I can do something for her when she gets back from visiting her niece.”

  “Emily, that is a wonderful and very thoughtful idea. Her house could use a good going over; that’s for sure.” Grandma turned to put her purse away.

  Emily knelt on the floor and looked at the photo on the side of the box. She smiled as she imagined how the class would respond. “No one will have a presentation like this.”

  Andrea approached and squatted down to take a look. “We might even be able to keep up with Ashley’s cooking presentation.” Andrea returned to the table and opened her notebook. “Or at least we’ll be second best …”

  Grandma took off her jacket and hung it on the back of the dining room chair. She rubbed the back of her neck, and Emily thought she looked tired. “Okay, Christopher. You better head out to the barn and do your chores.”

  “Grandma, now?” Christopher looked stricken. “Don’t you want to find out what I discovered at the library?”

  “After dinner there will be plenty of time. The animals are waiting. Grandpa is waiting too, and I don’t think he’s going to be happy if he does all the chores by himself.”

  “Can I go with you to see the animals?” Andrea jumped from her seat. As she did, her arm hit her glass of milk. It tipped over, spilling.

  “The posters!” Emily rushed to the table, scooping them up. Thankfully the milk spilled in the opposite direction, making the paper plates soggy. Emily hurried to the kitchen for a towel to clean up the mess.

  “Oh, no! I’m so sorry.” Andrea followed Emily into the kitchen, grabbing another towel. “I’ve made such a mess.”

  Grandma hurried to help. She took the paper plates and tossed them in the trash. “No use making a fuss. It’s only milk.”

  Emily wiped up the milk, and then picked up her grandma’s coat. Milk had dripped down the front of it. “Do you want me to throw it in the washer?”

  “Yes, let me get my keys out first.” Grandma stuck her hand into the pocket. She pulled out her keys and some envelopes.

  “Oh, no! I forgot these were in here. I hope they didn’t get wet.” She placed the envelopes on the kitchen counter.

  Emily eyed them. “What are these? They look really old.”

  “Miss Middleton gave them to me. She thought I might be able to get information from them. The only problem is that they’re written in German. I’m hoping Greta Harbinger will be able to help me read them, but I haven’t gotten ahold of her yet.”

  Emily turned to Andrea. “Do you know German?”

  Andrea shrugged. “A little bit. I only took two years.”

  “Two years?” Emily poked her arm. “You people know lots of languages. It’s unbelievable.”

  Christopher just shook his head and headed out to do his chores.

  Andrea opened the first letter and her eyes widened. “This letter … it’s not German. It’s Czech!”

  “Czech?”

  “Yes, my language,” Andrea laughed. “The words are a little faded in spots, but I think I can read it.”

  “Really? Grandma, did you hear that?”

  “I sure did.” Charlotte hurried to the desk and grabbed her notebook. “Do you think you could tell us what they say? At least the first one. We can read the rest of them after dinner.”

  “Okay. You can start cooking and I’ll read this. It might take a minute for me to figure it out.”

  Andrea sat down on the living room couch. She held the letter close to her face and narrowed her gaze, concentrating.

  Finally, after ten minutes, she sat up straight. “Okay, I think I can read this now.”

  Emily sat by her side and looked at the words on the paper. Then she waited as Andrea read: “It’s to Iva Spilko. ‘Dear Sister, I hope this letter finds you better than it finds us. We just had our first prairie fire. It is something we hope to …’”

  Andrea lifted her head. “I think this says never, but it’s hard to read.” She resumed her reading. “‘It is something we hope to never see again. We lost it all. We lost our mule and the old heifer that we had picketed nearby.

  “I was thinking yesterday and I had an idea of where the lost bag could be. You said you saw Elijah Coleman with the bag on his way to the church. You also wrote that when you found Mr. Coleman at the church site he was asleep propped up next to the foundation of the church but there was no bag to be found. Do you think someone could have taken the bag while he slept? Perhaps the men who came to do construction saw someone?’”

  Emily looked toward her grandma, and they locked eyes.

  “It’s more than I’ve ever heard before. Iva actually saw my Granddaddy when he was on his way to the church and then after he got there! I suppose we can narrow the loss down to that area.”

  Emily had never seen her grandma so excited.

  “Andrea, do you think you can read the next letter too?”

  “Grandma, do you want me to make dinner? You know, while you go over the letters with Andrea?”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Sure, if everyone else doesn’t mind vegetarian lasagna.” Emily hurried into the kitchen. “I think I’ve got everything I’ll need.”

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Emily heard her grandma saying to Andrea. “I thought they were in German. I never expected this.”

  SAM PARKED IN FRONT of the small travel trailer. It was one of the few in the RV park. In the summer this park was full, especially around fair days. But this time of year only a few spots were filled.

  A large truck was parked next to Hank’s smaller one. It was one Sam didn’t recognize. He hoped he wasn�
��t catching Hank and Kendall at a bad time. He thought about getting back in the car and heading home, but the trailer door swung open.

  Kendall stood there in sweats and a T-shirt. “Sam, hurry! All the cold air is coming in. I heard your car pull up.” She rubbed her arms and shifted her weight from side to side.

  Sam hurried inside. It was small, and every surface was covered with stuff—or what his grandpa would call junk. Hank sat on an upholstered bench that looked like it converted into a bed. Another man sat beside him, and they were looking over the items Hank, Kendall, and Sam had found on their recent treasure hunt, including the comb and spoon that Sam had taken home to show his family.

  “Hey, Sam. You’re just in time. I was just showing Mr. Driggers what we found.”

  “Mr. Driggers? Like at the farm?”

  “Yes, of course. I wanted to show him the things I found before I posted them for sale—just to make sure there wasn’t something sentimental he wanted to keep. It was his wife’s great-grandparents’ soddie, you know.”

  Sam scratched his head. “So, wait. Mr. Driggers, you know about it?”

  Mr. Driggers nodded. “Yes, of course. I wish I could have been there but I had to be up in Harding.”

  Sam turned to Hank again. “But I don’t understand. You said you hoped people didn’t see us. You wanted me to keep it a secret.”

  Kendall laughed. “Sam, did you think we snuck onto people’s property and stole their stuff?” She placed a hand on her hip. “Seriously?”

  Sam felt heat rising to his cheeks. “Don’t look at me that way. I didn’t know.”

  “I guess you wouldn’t have known, would you?” Hank laughed. “Maybe I should have made that clear up front. I’m sorry if it seemed like we weren’t on the up and up.”

  “Yeah, okay, but what I still don’t understand is why it has to be a secret. If the farmer knows, then what’s the problem?” Sam lifted a silver spoon from the tray and fingered it. It was the one he’d given back to Kendall.

  “The problem isn’t the farmer—it’s the other untrained treasure hunters,” Hank said. “They do sneak onto the land without permission. They don’t know how to search right, and they make a mess of things. When word gets out that antiques are found at old home sites, everyone and his brother gets into the act. Besides the destruction of property, valuable items disappear, never to be found again.”

  Sam smiled and then sat down next to Hank. “So my guess is that the farmer gets a percentage of the money you make?”

  “Of course. It’s only fair.”

  “We work together.” Kendall placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “We share the work, share the treasure, and share the profit.” Then she dropped her hand and looked away. “Then, after we work our way through an area, we move on. It’s as it’s always been.”

  “Modern-day gypsies. That’s what I call us,” Hank said confidently.

  Kendall didn’t look quite as confident.

  He felt bad for her. Not only about the way she and her father were viewed, even by her father himself, but also because as soon as she made friends somewhere, no doubt it would soon be time to move on.

  Sam put his hand on Kendall’s back and leaned close to her ear. “Sorry I ever doubted you,” he said.

  CHARLOTTE FELT WARM all over, and at the moment it didn’t matter that she was completely turning over dinner duties to Emily. Or that Andrea and Emily were actually supposed to be doing homework instead of cooking dinner and translating letters for her.

  Andrea opened the next letter and began again.

  “Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. I was out in the fields with Abraham putting out the corn and sorghum seed. We are hoping these crops will help with our losses. Quite a number of farm animals in the area were lost in the fire. We are thankful that there was no loss of human life. The farm south of us lost the new framed house. Thankfully all their sheep were saved. They have five hundred head. They saved them by taking them into the plowed field where the fire couldn’t burn.

  I talked to Abraham about the problems with your church.”

  Andrea lifted her head again. “It says something else here, but it’s right on the fold of the paper. I can’t read it.”

  Charlotte didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath. “Oh, it’s okay. You can just skip that part.”

  “Okay.” Andrea narrowed her gaze and looked at the page again. The door opened, and Bob and Christopher entered.

  “Lookie here. It’s a little Miss Betty Crocker,” Bob called. “Do you need help setting the table, Emily?”

  “Sure, Grandpa. Thanks.”

  “Christopher, can you do that?” Bob chuckled.

  “But Grandpa! I want to show Grandma what I found in the library.”

  “After dinner, I promise,” Charlotte said. “This is important.” She offered Christopher a smile. She could hear him banging around the kitchen, pulling out the dishes.

  Charlotte turned back to Andrea. “Okay. Go on.”

  “Sister, it’s very hard for me to ask this, but do you have any money that we can borrow? Thirty to forty dollars would be enough. Our neighbor who lost their house is leaving. They are talking about Minnesota. We have a chance to buy their heifer, since ours was lost. After the fire, no one is able to buy on credit. I used to be able to get groceries on 30 days time but the owner of the general store lost property too.”

  Andrea looked up. “It goes on, but it’s just news of deaths and births and stuff.”

  When the door opened again, Charlotte expected to see Pete, but instead it was Sam, followed by Kendall.

  “Well, Sam. You brought a guest.” She stood, approached Kendall, and stretched out her hand, noticing that the girl wore a sweater large enough to fit Bob. It hung nearly to her knees. Yet the drabness of the sweater was brightened by Kendall’s rainbow scarf and bright purple stocking cap.

  “I’m Charlotte, Sam’s grandma.”

  Kendall took her hand. “Hey, I’m Kendall. I hope this isn’t an imposition. Sam said it would be fine.”

  “Not an imposition at all.” Charlotte tried to switch gears from the news in the letters about Elijah’s nap and the construction workers at the church to their additional guest for dinner.

  Charlotte looked to Emily. “Do you, uh, need help?”

  “I’m making a big lasagna, see?” Emily held up Charlotte’s largest pan, now lined with lasagna noodles. Then Charlotte watched as Emily quickly added a layer of ricotta cheese mixture and a layer of spinach, followed by a layer of jarred pasta sauce. Then she repeated it.

  “I suppose I could make a salad.” Charlotte moved to the fridge, taking out the lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes she’d picked up earlier that day.

  “I can help.” Kendall moved to the sink, pushed up the sleeves on her sweater, and washed her hands.

  “Oh, that’s really not necessary. I think we’ll be fine.” Charlotte looked into the girl’s face, and she discovered that hidden under all those layers of clothes was a pretty girl with green eyes and a kind smile.

  “Really, I don’t mind at all.” Kendall grabbed a salad bowl from the drying rack on the counter and then placed it next to the cutting board. “It’s just me and my dad at home. I’m used to doing all the cooking.” She laughed.

  Charlotte liked her laugh.

  “Just making a salad is getting off easy, believe me,” Kendall said.

  “Okay, fine. I suppose if you don’t mind …” Charlotte glanced at Sam, who was leaning against the wall with a smile across his face, obviously enjoying the interaction.

  Charlotte’s stomach churned. He set me up. He knew I’d have to be kind to the girl, to give her a chance. With those thoughts came a realization of how things must have looked to Sam. Here she’d been attempting to prove her Granddaddy’s innocence despite the accusations against him.

  “Sam,” she said, meeting his gaze, “can you help Andrea clear all the project stuff off the table and then help Christopher set it? And put on
the good dishes; we have guests.”

  Sam’s grin widened. “Sure, Grandma. I’d love to.”

  Kendall dried her hands on the dishtowel and then reached for Charlotte’s arm. Her voice was gentle. “Mrs. Stevenson, do you have a minute?”

  “Of course.” Charlotte paused, looking into the girl’s face.

  “I just wanted to apologize. In fact, I asked Sam if he could invite me over so I could. He didn’t think today was the best day for me to come, but I insisted.”

  “No, Kendall, it’s okay, really. It’s fine. Things are a little busy, but they always are around here.”

  “Okay, good.” Kendall looked away and then met Charlotte’s eyes again. “I asked Sam to keep something a secret. I realize now I shouldn’t have. I’m sure it made it seem like we were up to no good, and I shouldn’t have put Sam in that position.” Kendall paused, and then she nodded, as if urging herself on.

  “You see, my father and I work with farmers to find antiques left by settlers on their land. We don’t like many people to know about it because if word gets out, everyone becomes a treasure hunter. But I just wanted you to know that what we’re doing is done under an agreement with the farmers. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I can see now you have a lovely family and that you would have kept our secret.”

  “Oh, Kendall.” Charlotte felt a rush of guilt wash over her—guilt mixed with relief. “I have to admit I’m happy to hear that what you’re doing is legal.” Charlotte nervously chuckled. “But, dear girl, I’m the one who needs to apologize. I was the one who listened to unfounded rumors and assumed the worst. Why don’t we start over from here? It can be a fresh start.”

  Kendall nodded. Then she stepped back and extended a hand that was half hidden under a long sleeve. Charlotte reached out and accepted it.

  “Hello, Mrs. Stevenson. My name is Kendall Richardson.”

  “Hello, Kendall,” Charlotte said. “Nice to meet you. And I mean that. I really, really do.”

  CHARLOTTE TOOK THE last bite of her lasagna and noticed Christopher fidgeting in his seat. During the meal she’d enjoyed listening to Andrea and Kendall telling stories of the places they had lived, and more than once she’d had to scold Christopher for trying to interrupt.