The Secret of the Stone House

by Judith Silverthorne

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.

  “I was good, wasn’t I?” he laughed, his face turning a little red.

  “Too good,” she added, not able to resist a little

  poke at him.

  She thought again about the possibility that he had taken the smooth black stone from the crevice of sentinel rock, which stopped her from returning to visit them in the springtime. His mischief may have caused serious repercussions for Emma. But she didn’t want Geordie to feel bad. Besides, there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

  “Where have you been?” Geordie asked, looking at her in a puzzled way.

  “Woolgathering,” she answered, bringing her thoughts back to the present.

  “For sure,” he said, “but I mean for the last four years. I never could figure out exactly where you came from.” He shoved his hands into his overalls and waited for her to answer.

  Whew! That was going to take some explaining!

  “What do you know of the second sight?” she asked.

  “I know my granny and Emma both had it,” he answered. “They could tell things about people and about the future. Premonitions and such.”

  “Well, then you probably know they see things in visions...in their minds.”

  He seemed unsure of what she meant, eyeing her suspiciously.

  “Or it could be like dreams. You have dreams, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Have you ever had a dream so real you actually thought it was taking place?”

  “I suppose I have,” he admitted.

  “Well, what if you dreamt about the past, when you lived in Scotland, or if you dreamt about what it would be like to live in your grandparents’ time?”

  He thought about that for a few moments. “All
right,” he nodded, reluctantly.

  “Well, that’s kind of what it’s like for me,” she said. “It’s like I’m dreaming about what happened in my past, only everything is very real to me.”

  “But how come you’re real to me, too?” He stepped back, uneasily.

  “I don’t understand it myself,” she said. “But maybe you’re dreaming about the future and I’m dreaming about the past, but we’re both in the same dream and able to talk to each other.”

  He thought about it for a few moments. “I think I understand better now,” he said, although he still kept his distance from her.

  “Good. I know it’s hard to believe,” she said. “I can’t really explain how it happens, but I know Emma understood too.”

  He smiled. “Yes, you were a special friend to her.”

  Emily sighed, as she pictured Emma when she first met her – her laughing face surrounded by blonde braids that hung halfway down her back. The two of them would sit atop the sentinel rock, with their hair gently wafted by the wind, Emma in her long dress and high-buttoned shoes swinging over the edge, and she in jeans with her sneakers. Or they’d walk on the prairie, sharing each other’s know-ledge of plants or picking mushrooms after a rain.

  “You helped save our lives, you know,” Geordie interrupted her thoughts.

  Emily knew he was referring to the time she and Emma struggled to save the Elliott family during a dangerous flu epidemic.

  “Maybe a little,” she said. They hadn’t been very successful with Emma’s granny, who had died.

  As if reading her thoughts, Geordie said, “Granny was already dying. There wasn’t anything anyone could do for her.”

  Emily closed her eyes and felt her throat tighten with emotion.

  “You and Emma, you made a good pair.” Geordie said. Then to change the subject, he said, “Do you remember when I pitched the salamander at you?”

  Emily giggled. “Yeah, Emma was sure quick to chase you with it.” They’d been sitting on a blanket braiding onions in the warm autumn sun, when Geordie had snuck up on them.

  “That’s why I always teased her,” he admitted. “She never let me get away with anything.”

  “She certainly stood up for herself,” Emily agreed, torn between wanting to hear more about Emma and wanting to push the sad memories away. The choice was made for her, though, because she knew she couldn’t stay much longer.

  “I need to go home,” she said, “but tell me first, why is there no one at your house?”

  “We are building a new one,” he said, pointing back the way he’d come. “Everyone is helping so we can move in soon.”

  “But why are there no animals at your old place?”

  “We’ve already moved them, so we can care for them during the day while we’re working. Would you like to see our new place?” Geordie said eagerly.

  Instantly, Emily became excited. But should she risk taking the time to go? “How far is it?”

  “Just across the pasture,” he motioned.

  “Well, if we hurry,” Emily came to a sudden decision. She’d chance going and hope her mother wasn’t expecting her yet. She could always say she’d meant she would be gone for two hours, though she knew even that time was probably almost up.

  “Come on, Sorcha,” Geordie called.

  They raced across the prairie with the border collie trotting ahead of them. Emily’s heart pounded in her chest as she ran over the rough terrain. Excitement bubbled inside her too. At last, she was going to reconnect with Emma’s family.

  As they dropped over a rise, Emily stopped abruptly. Geordie almost ran into her. Sorcha barked at the sudden change of plan and returned to them, wagging her tail. Emily stared in astonishment. At the bottom length of the pasture stood a stone house – her grandmother’s stone house.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Emily stared at the partially built stone house, already almost two storeys high. Scaffolding surrounded the walls with plank ramps jutting to the ground below. Two of Geordie’s older brothers shunted a huge fieldstone up the ramp and placed it on top of one wall. Two other men, one on the ground and the other at the top of the wall, hoisted pailfuls of mortar, using a system of ropes and pulleys. Someone else straddled the wall and trowelled the mortar in place.

  A young woman came down a trail that led from a pit dug into a hillside, pushing a wheelbarrow towards the house. A fire burned briskly in the pit, and from the acrid smell, Emily knew it must be where the lime was being prepared. On the ground, two women struggled to lever a heavy granite rock onto a plank. Several piles of different-sized rocks dotted the ground behind them. Two young girls sifted gravel, catching the fine sand, which Emily assumed was for mixing with the lime to produce the mortar. She wasn’t sure who all the people were from this distance, but she was positive Geordie’s whole family must be there, including his mom and sisters. There also seemed to be an extra man helping.

  “Isn’t it grand?” Geordie asked at her elbow.

  “It’s beautiful,” Emily whispered. How incredible to see her grandmother’s house in the making!

  “Bet you’ve never seen anything so splendid,” he said.

  Emily smiled at him. “Actually, I have,” she said. “I’m staying in this very same house.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “How could you? Oh...” Sudden realization seemed to strike him and he began to laugh. “Of course, you are from my future.”

  Joining in his laughter, Emily nodded. “Incredible, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed! Would you like a closer look?”

  “I would,” said Emily, “but I can’t right now. I have to get back home.”

  “At least you’re not far,” he said chuckling.

  “True,” she answered, “but I can only go back and forth between your world and mine at the rock.”

  “I always wondered how you did it,” Geordie waited for her to explain.

  When she told him about the need for the smooth black stone and how she’d left it at the sentinel rock between times, a sudden stillness came over him.

  “Show it to me.”

  She pulled it out of her pocket and opened her hand.

  “Don’t touch it,” she warned, “I don’t know what will happen.” A surge of fear raced up her spine.

  Geordie stared at it intently. “It was because of me, wasn’t it? Because I took the stone, you couldn’t come back?”

  Emily said nothing.

  “I’m so sorry, lass.” His voice cracked. “You might have saved Emma’s life?”

  Emily shook her head, coming to a sudden realization. “No, Geordie, I don’t think I could have saved her. She was too sick. I don’t think even the medicine in my world would have worked.”

  Emily knew what she said was true, although she’d wanted to blame someone, and Geordie in particular, for Emma’s death. Seeing him in anguish in front of her now, she knew it hadn’t been his fault.

  “Let’s just remember the good bits,” Emily said softly, touching his arm. “Emma and I enjoyed our time together and I know you were close to her too.”

  He stared unhappily at his feet.

  Quietly, she said, “I have to go now, but I’ll come back again.”

  He nodded, unable to speak.

  She left him then, turning back only once to see him stumbling towards the construction site. Replacing the stone in her pocket, she jogged back to sentinel rock, skirting the old homestead and the bluff of trees now that she had her bearings.

  Her sadness lifted as she cut across the prairie, avoiding gopher holes, large protruding stones, and hummocks of grass. By the time she reached the big rock, she was smiling to herself. How ironic that she was going to have to go back over the same ground she’d just covered in order to get home again. If only she could think of a way to get back and forth in time right at the stone house. She’d sure save a lot of time and energy!

  When Emily returned to the yard, she saw the machinery lined up in the typical auction format of sma
ll implements to large ones, with the more expensive ones, like the tractor, grain truck, and combine at the end of the row for sale at the very last. Otherwise, the yard was deserted. She found everyone in the kitchen having coffee. Her mother seemed to be in command, as usual.

  “Where have you been, young lady?” she demanded, pointing to the clock that ticked at a quarter past three. “I thought you said you’d be back by two?”

  “No, in two hours,” Emily said, ready for the challenge. “I’m right on time!”

  Her mother raised her eyebrows in surprise. She knew when she’d been outsmarted.

  “What makes the pasture so fascinating?” Donald asked, reaching for another scone and slathering it with butter and wild raspberry jam.

  Emily slid into a chair and reached for a glass of milk.

  “There are all kind of neat things up there,” she answered. “Gran and I used to go together all the time. We used to pick plants and flowers. I was just checking out all our old haunts.”

  “I seem to recall there’s a spectacular view from that huge old rock on the edge of the coulee,” he said. “I suppose you can still see the grain elevators at Glenavon?”

  “Not for long, I’m sure,” said Gerald. “They’re tearing them down next month.”

  “It’s such a pity to see these old landmarks disappear,” Donald remarked.

  “I didn’t know you cared. Last I heard, you’d had enough of rural life,” Kate said, surprised. “I thought you didn’t find it fulfilling enough.”

  “I can still appreciate important traditions and landmarks,” Donald replied. “Guess I’ve mellowed a little over the years.”

  Emily observed the interchange, noticing her mom and Donald eyeing each other.

  “So what’s left to do for the auction?” She peered at everyone sitting around the table.

  “Just the small stuff,” said Aunt Liz, reaching for the auctioneer’s instruction sheet.

  “I assume everything is already sorted into boxes?” Donald gave Kate a light smile.

  “All ready to go,” she grinned back at him.