“Thank you, whoever you are,” I whispered, and plucked a pretty bud, holding it to my nose. I turned my face to the setting sun. The singing sighs of the wind in the trees bounced off the stone and echoed down through the valley.
Something black soared into the halo of the sun's brightness. As big as a raccoon, the bald eagle cruised in a slow, wide-winged circle around the tops of the trees. Its orangey-yellow beak curved into a sharp point from a white-feathered head, and orange talons stretched as it reached forward to grab and hold a branch heavy with pinecones. The eagle flew alone, determined in its journey, majestic in its solitude.
I watched until it disappeared inside the tree and then nestled the rosebud down into my pocket. I walked to the kitchen and found a broom. I hiked out to the bend and spent the next forty minutes walking backward, sweeping the broom back and forth over the dirt and rocks. When I was sure I had erased every last hoof print, I found Noel waiting patiently in the enclosure.
“Pretty little Christmas girl. Do you want me to pay attention to you?” I heaved away her saddle, pulled off the reins and bit, and gave her an apple. Nudging her in front of water and hay, I found grooming tools on a shelf in the barn and brushed her until her tan coat shone. I settled her into the barn for the night.
The lamp in the bunkhouse cast bobbing shadows around the room as it flickered behind the glass, glinting light off the cold, shiny gun that lay on the table where Tor had left it. The dark night closed in around me, so still my growling stomach was the only sound. I ate Cook’s fried chicken and buttered bread and gnawed on an apple. I wadded up the mess and threw it outside behind the kitchen in the garbage pile.
I lugged the supplies out of the bunkhouse and dropped everything next to Noel. With the lantern still lit, I took the red blankets and made up a bed on a perfect bed-sized bale of straw. I climbed in, still wearing Tor’s clothes and my tennis shoes, and ate a few bites of cake, wrapping up the rest for my breakfast.
My tear-puffed eyes stung and rubbed sand across the insides of my lids. Letting them close, I let Tor in, and watched his solitary tear weep for me. It formed a puddle in his eye, pooling over the green marble swirls of moss and fern and pine. It molded into a translucent drop on his lashes and trembled there, falling after a moment to his cheek and inching down over the sunburned face where sawdust sometimes lay. I watched as it rolled and caught on his lip before continuing its journey to his chin, mixing with the golden stubble, flattening into a spot of wetness, no longer a trickle of salty river.
I held the picture for a moment longer and then let it slide away. It landed . . . a video gently placed in a box. I closed the lid and locked it. I would take it out again someday. When I was stronger.
Noel’s snuffles and snorts soothed me and thoughts of my best friend, my best cousin, Lia, and the letters I had hidden for her gave me hope.
I let go of the day.
WITH a gasp, I sat up. My sleepy heart caught in my throat. Men’s deep voices called to each other from beyond the barn.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Emma
2015
With a gasp, Emma sat up. Her sleepy heart caught in her throat, her dream still visible on the tip of her mind. She took hold of it before it floated away. “Lia!”
“What?” Lia turned over and rubbed her eyes.
Jules called from deep in her sleeping bag. “What’s wrong, Emma?”
“Lia has the answer. Lia holds the key to unlocking the secret.”
“We need to listen to Emma. She is feeling something strong, something true. Something is being communicated to her.” Keko sat up. “I have been so focused everywhere else, Lia, I haven’t paid attention to you.”
Lia shook her head. “What could it be?”
Niki yawned. “Huh? Who’s communicating with Emma?”
“It was Sonnet,” said Emma.
The tent grew quiet.
“There’s another letter.”
“I believe you, Emma. You and Lia and I will go to the house when the sun comes up. If it’s in the stars, we’ll have our answer.” Keko settled back down in her sleeping bag. “We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow.”
EMMA and Lia nudged at the front door as Keko pointed Rapp’s flashlight around the dark-as-night entryway. “Let’s go, Lia,” said Keko. “You take me through what happened that day.”
Lia led them to where the piano once stood. “Okay. We came into the house through the front door. Everyone ran straight upstairs and started goofing around, scaring each other, acting silly. I realized Sonnet wasn’t with us so I came back downstairs to find her. She was standing here—” Lia tapped her foot on the floor. “—and acting dazed. For a second, I thought she might even be talking to herself.”
They moved up close to the pile of piano debris. Keko ran the flashlight over the mess. “I felt Sonnet’s presence all over the pieces of paper you found. You were right to focus there.”
“I just don’t know what else there could be. The piano was easy. She knew I would realize it was the only stick of furniture in the house.”
Keko handed the flashlight to Emma and put her hands on her hips. “There’s more.”
Lia pressed her lips shut for a moment, glancing at the ceiling. “So, we were talking. We heard the others all screaming and running around upstairs. I convinced Sonnet to go up there. She didn’t really want to.”
“So, you left this room and went upstairs.”
“Yeah. We stood at the bottom of the stairs for a few minutes and then went up. We were gonna find and scare them.”
“Let’s retrace your steps.”
Keko and Lia made their way back through the empty room to the staircase as Emma illuminated the way.
“We climbed the stairs like we’re doing now and started down the hallway. We heard footsteps coming so we ran. But we ran the wrong way and stumbled into Rapp. I think he had just come running down from there.” Lia pointed to the small staircase leading up to the third floor.
“The maid’s quarters,” said Emma.
“That’s exactly what Sonnet said. ‘There must be another floor. Maybe the maid’s quarters.’ She liked to watch those British tearjerkers with her mom and knew all about old houses and where the maids lived.”
Lia turned around and started back down the hallway. “Rapp took Sonnet’s hand and said, ‘Let’s hide’ and chucked us into that room. Emma’s room. He came in behind us and shut the door. Rapp told us it was his favorite room in the house, so far, like he’d already been in there. Then he walked to the window and I left. I knew Sonnet kinda liked Rapp so I wanted to leave them alone.”
“That’s all?” Keko frowned.
“She was acting jumpy. Like she couldn’t catch her breath. I thought maybe it was her allergies. She’d been sneezing from all the dust.”
Keko moved to where the bed once stood and shut her eyes. “What else? We’re missing something. Go back to that day, Lia. Slow down. What are we missing?”
“Let me start over.” Lia shut her eyes while Keko held her arms. “We moved away from the piano. Okay, I remember now. Sonnet walked, not to the staircase, but to a hallway behind us. We went into another room. Sonnet rubbed dirt off the tile on the fireplace and said something like, ‘Wow, peacocks!’ while I went to the built-in cabinet.”
Keko said, “Lia, the dining room? You’re in the dining room, right?”
“Yeah. We went in there just before we went upstairs. I found a candle in a drawer and showed it to her. I was talking all crazy about ghosts and not wanting to take the candle out of the house. And then Sonnet said, ‘A candle and a piano—left behind. Like a message from the dead.’” Lia swallowed, her eyes growing large. “That’s what Sonnet said to me. ‘Like a message from the dead,’ and then I said, ‘Like a hologram beamed in from heaven.’”
Keko’s hands tightened around Lia’s arms and shook them. “There’s something from Sonnet! In the cabinet.”
“That’s it!” Lia spun out of K
eko’s grasp and ran from the room, yelling as she went. “We searched all the drawers yesterday. But we didn’t bother to look behind them. I’m such an idiot! She wouldn’t put it inside—it would have been found eventually by someone.”
Lia ran to a drawer. “This is it. The one with the candle. Hold the flashlight on it.” She rocked it up and down until it opened and handed the stick of wax behind her to Emma.
“Watch out.” Lia dropped the drawer to the floor. It landed with a bang.
“There!” Emma pointed the light at the right-hand framing. “See it?”
“Yes. It’s in one piece, nailed into the frame on both ends.” Keko touched it. “I sense Sonnet at work here.” She jiggled the first nail until it fell out. “I don’t want to have the paper fall with the other nail to the floor.”
“I’ll hold while you pull the nail.” Lia put her arm inside and pinned the paper against wood.
“Got it. Okay, I’ll hold it . . . you take the edge, Lia, and bring it forward.”
Emma focused the beam of light. From Sonnet was written across a yellowed envelope. Someone had scrawled, Emma’s closet, just like before, sideways across the end in different script.
Lia held it to her heart and shrieked. “I’m so happy! Let’s take it down to the campsite and read Sonnet’s message with everyone. We’ve been through so much together. It’s only fair.”
Before they could make it out of the house, the rest of Team Switch, along with Uncle Jack, barged through the battered front door to meet them.
If you’re reading this letter, it means you remembered, Lia. A message from the dead! I’ve pulled off being Emma with the so-called family. The nanny, Tor Loken (yes, he must be related to Rapp), the carriage driver, and his grandfather are the only ones who know the truth. They are helping me, and if it wasn’t for them, I would be crazy right now. I found out the parents are sending me to school in Baltimore with no intention of ever bringing me back. I met with the grandfather (he “has the sight”), and he agrees that I must stay here. If I haven’t found a way back by Sunday, I’m running away. What I know so far is this:
There will be an identical storm
Emma and I can’t be in the same place
This has all happened for an unknown reason
I’m trying to stay hopeful, but in case I don’t see you again, I want you to know how much I love you all. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of you. All of you. I didn’t appreciate what a great family I had until I got here and was forced to live Emma’s life. It’s not all bad, though. Her brothers are the most wonderful little creatures. Besides the people who are helping me, they are the highlight of my life. And Emma is lucky to have Tor. He’s the best guy ever.
Love,
Sonnet
“She must have left the house.” Jules pointed to the envelope. “That’s someone else’s writing on the corner.”
“Kerry’s handwriting,” said Emma.
Rapp read the letter and cryptic message on the envelope again. “A storm. And Emma’s closet. Just like before.”
Niki tapped on her phone. “The weather tomorrow in the Cascade Mountains is supposed to be sun with a hundred percent chance of a quick rain squall coming in from the mountain ridge above us. At noon.”
Lia said, “That was the exact weather prediction on the day of our Monte Cristo picnic. The day Sonnet left and Emma came.”
“Does this mean we are switching tomorrow and I’m going home?” Emma asked. “To the best guy Sonnet has ever met?”
“Yippee! It’s all coming together,” yelled Jules, twirling in the air.
“So, what do you want to do on your potentially last day here, Emma?” asked Evan. “Stick around? Drive somewhere in the van? We could show you some more of our world. We have twenty-four hours.”
Emma thought for a moment. All she really wanted was to spend this last day with her friends right here at the campsite. “I would like to float together in the river. Eat s’mores around the fire and listen to Uncle Jack and Rapp play beautiful music. Relish these last moments with you all and seal them tight inside me so they are not forgotten. And then go home tomorrow to Tor and the life I was born into.”
She glanced over at Lia, the best friend she had ever had, and found it impossible to say more.
THE park ranger showed them no mercy. He tore twisted vines and spiraling ferns away from the sign and pointed. “Right here: NO CAMPING. NO FIRES. DAY HIKES AND PICNICS ONLY.”
“We weren’t aware of the rules, Officer. The sign was completely covered. It’s not really our fault, you see,” said Uncle Jack.
“And because of that I won’t write you out a citation. But you have to pack up your gear. The tent comes down, now. You can stay for the rest of the day, but your group is required to be offsite by sundown. Those are the rules. Storms come out of nowhere around here and bring flashfloods from rising rivers. It’s going to rain tomorrow and you don’t want to be caught in a dangerous situation.”
Jules smiled at him, sliding her eyes to his badge and back to his pitiless face. Her words dripped sugar and her fingers stroked through her hair. “Can’t we please have just one more night, Ranger Karl?”
“Ma’am, you and your friends need to be gone by sunset. I’ll be back to check, and if you’re still here, whoever owns the van will receive a citation, and I will escort you down the mountain myself.”
“Where’s the closest hotel?” Keko asked.
“Head past Granite Falls. You’ll find decent lodging in Snohomish. Try the Countryside Inn.” He pulled the brim of his hat straight at Jules. “Have a good day.” He flicked the corners of his mouth up at her, before sliding back into his big, shiny truck, slamming the door shut, and driving away.
“Well, Ranger Karl liked you, Jules,” said Lia.
“Is that even allowed?” Rapp crossed his arms and stared at the receding vehicle as it was swallowed up by greenery.
“Liked her, yeah, just not enough to break the rules.” Niki kicked at the dirt. “So, now what?”
Evan smacked his lips. “Snohomish? I wouldn’t mind going back to the Flower Patch Diner for some bread pudding.”
That was Evan, thought Emma. Even during a crisis, his mind could not stray far from his stomach.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sonnet
1895
I tumbled out of my straw bed and crawled on hands and knees across the hay-covered floor. My heart banged and clanged and my fear-choked breathing was tortured, strangled. Men’s voices called back and forth, but I was too far away to understand what they were saying.
I pressed my face to a narrow space between the barn siding. Light danced in the distance. Four lanterns. Three men sat like silvery specters on horses, their faces turned from the moon and hidden in shadows. A single lantern bobbed lower to the ground. One of the men had climbed off his horse and was now rambling around where I had swept the broom across rocks after Tor left.
Another rider dismounted and the two men headed in my direction. I turned and swept my eyes over the barn’s dark interior. What was the layout as I had searched for grooming tools earlier in the evening?
No layout, nothing. Just a big empty barn. Except for burying myself under hay, there was no place to hide. And if they came in they would spy Noel and my things and find me anyway.
I peered back out. One of the men had bypassed the path to the barn. His lantern moved close to the bunkhouse. The screen door squeaked open and banged shut. The lantern light dipped around inside. I caught their words, shouted to each other, clear in the night air.
“See anything in there, Barry?”
“Nope, nothing. No girl here. No sign of anyone.”
Noel snorted. I froze. My heart started again with a painful jolt. I crawled back over to her in the dark and caressed her muzzle. She blew and nudged at my shoulder as I leaned over and felt around in the canvas bag for an apple. I held it in front of her. She ran her lips across my palm and chomped.
/> I waited for the barn door to burst open, ready to call it quits. After a few minutes of agony, I listened to the men crunch across rocks away from us.
After what seemed like an eternity, the light evaporated. The sound of hooves faded.
And night-silence closed in on me again.
I collapsed into the hay. On hands and knees, again, I inched my wobbly body back to the red blankets and bale of straw. My shaking eventually stopped, and my heart calmed down, but I didn’t sleep. Daylight would come soon. I would have to leave the Mystery Mine later today before the miners returned.
Hard-driving hooves beat toward me, slapping another shock to my heart. Just one horse this time. I scuttled to the side of the barn and pressed my face against the boards again. Streaking across the rising sun and heading straight toward the Mystery Mine galloped a beautiful, brown-spotted Appaloosa. A blue-and-black-checked cap sat low on the face of the rider.
I tripped over myself, running to open the enclosure gate.
Maxwell, as if guided by a divine being, rode straight to me. He leapt out of the saddle and jogged, leading the horse into the barn. I rammed the door shut behind him and flew into his arms. “You’re here, Maxwell! Four men were stalking me early this morning.”
“That I know. I tailed them. I’ve watched over you all night.”
“Tor—”
“He’s suspected in your disappearance and held captive at his cabin by the town barber, one of three men deputized yesterday.” He smiled. “Monte Cristo is in an uproar.”
“How did you get away?”
“Mister Sweetwine asked me to take one of the horses and go looking for you. Maybe he thought I could find you with my ‘magic powers.’ I feel sorry for him. He is truly out of his mind.”
Maxwell lugged the saddle off Starlight and let me water and brush her while he went out back to rescue the food basket from under the kitchen. He refilled the pitcher and brought everything back to the barn.
But Not Forever Page 18
