ALSO BY
PHYLLIS REYNOLDS NAYLOR
Emily’s Fortune
Faith, Hope, and Ivy June
THE BOY/GIRL BATTLE BOOKS
The Boys Start the War
The Girls Get Even
Boys Against Girls
The Girls’ Revenge
A Traitor Among the Boys
A Spy Among the Girls
The Boys Return
The Girls Take Over
Boys in Control
Girls Rule!
Boys Rock!
Who Won the War?
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2012 by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Jacket art copyright © 2012 by Greg Call
Interior illustrations copyright © 2012 by Ross Collins
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
Visit us on the Web! randomhouse.com/kids
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools,
visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Naylor, Phyllis Reynolds.
Emily and Jackson hiding out / Phyllis Reynolds Naylor. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Things start looking up for Emily and Jackson when Emily’s inheritance clears and Aunt Hilda becomes her legal guardian and offers to become Jackson’s, as well, but Uncle Victor reappears, willing to do anything to steal Emily’s fortune.
eISBN: 978-0-375-98342-9
[1. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 2. Foster parents—Fiction.
3. Kidnapping—Fiction. 4. Inheritance and succession—Fiction. 5. Orphans—
Fiction. 6. West (U.S.)—History—19th century—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.N24Elh 2012 [Fic]—dc23 2011044335
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
v3.1
For my grandsons,
Beckett and Garrett,
who love books
CONTENTS
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
ONE: Redbud
TWO: Ten Million Dollars
THREE: Hole in the Ground
FOUR: Good Luck, Bad Luck
FIVE: Jackson’s Mistake
SIX: A Terrible Day
SEVEN: Horseback
EIGHT: Finding Jackson
NINE: Underground
TEN: Topsy-Turvy
ELEVEN: The Man in the Gray Suit
TWELVE: Hiding
THIRTEEN: Down by the Gate
FOURTEEN: The Widow Woman
FIFTEEN: In the Kitchen
SIXTEEN: Oh, No!
SEVENTEEN: Beneath the Veil
EIGHTEEN: The Eyes of a Weasel
NINETEEN: Emily Talks
TWENTY: In the Bag
TWENTY-ONE: Company
TWENTY-TWO: Hiding Out
TWENTY-THREE: Under the Tarp
TWENTY-FOUR: Caught!
About the Author
Emily was about the happiest thing alive.
When she and her friend Jackson got to her aunt Hilda’s, they whooped and they hollered. They ran around half-crazy with gladness.
They chased the dog and scared the chickens, circled the sheep and made the cows moo. They waded in the creek to look for crawdads, and finally, when they were almost too tired to spit, they lay in the grass and studied the sky.
“That Victor was mean as a snake,” Jackson said after a bit. “Where do you suppose he is now—him and his tiger tattoo?”
“Far away from here, I hope,” said Emily, remembering how her uncle Victor had followed them all the way to Redbud, trying to get the fortune Emily had inherited when her mother died. “It’s hard to believe he’s my mother’s brother, when she was always so sweet and kind.”
“Sure wish I could remember my ma,” said Jackson. “Guess we’re just two motherless kids out in the world alone.”
“Not anymore!” said Emily. “Now we have Aunt Hilda.”
It was about then that Emily and Jackson decided they were hungry. They could hear their stomachs growling back and forth to each other, having a real conversation. The minute the two children got up, the friendly black dog got up too, his red tongue hanging out, and loped along after them.
Aunt Hilda was standing in the doorway of her little white cottage. Her hands were resting on her plump hips, and her smile was as wide as her face.
“Well, young’uns,” she said. “How do you like it here in Redbud?”
“Like it fine,” said Jackson. “And I like this here dog too.”
“Name’s Spook,” Aunt Hilda said, “because everywhere you go, he’s right behind you. Wash your hands at the pump, now, and set yourselves down at the table.”
They did just as she said, and what a feast she had prepared! There were beans and ham, potatoes and peas, biscuits with honey, and fresh apple pie for dessert.
Jackson looked like a chipmunk, his cheeks were so full. Each time he reached for something more, Emily saw him glance at Aunt Hilda to see if she would stop him. But Aunt Hilda only smiled.
After the pie was served, she said, “Now that we’re a family, let’s go over the rules of this house: Everybody has work to do, even Spook. He herds the sheep and brings the cows in from pasture. Jackson’s jobs are to keep the wood box and the water bucket full. Emily’s jobs are to sweep the floors and make the beds. I’ll do most of the rest. There will be extra chores from time to time, but most important of all, we practice kindness. If you see any suffering creature, two-legged or four-, you do what you can to help.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Emily, because she had been taught to be polite.
Jackson only nodded, because his mouth was full of pie.
• • •
After supper, Aunt Hilda washed the dishes and Emily and Jackson dried them. Then the two children worked on the little pen they were making for Rufus, Emily’s pet turtle. And finally, when night began to fall and even the crickets sounded tired, Aunt Hilda said it was time for bed—Emily in the small room all fixed up for her next to the kitchen, and Jackson in the loft above the parlor, with the little ladder he would climb to get up there, and the tiny window where he could look out and see the stars.
“But first,” Emily’s aunt told them, “both of you are going to get a good scrubbing. I don’t think I have ever seen two dirtier children.”
Jackson was sent into the parlor to wait his turn, and Emily took off her clothes, all dusty and caked with mud. Aunt Hilda pulled a tin tub into the middle of the kitchen floor. She poured cold water from the bucket, then hot water from the teakettle, until the temperature was just right. Emily stepped in and sat down, and soon she was covered with soap bubbles from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
Her hair was all raggedy. Jackson had cut it during their trip to Redbud, when they’d been trying to disguise Emily as a boy. He had even given her some of his clothes to wear. But Uncle Victor had recognized her anyway, and he’d tried everything he could think of to stop Emily from reaching Aunt Hilda. Fortunately, nothing had worked.
I won’t have to worry about Uncle Victor ever again, Em
ily told herself as Aunt Hilda scrubbed her back with a long-handled brush and Emily worked on her fingernails with a short one.
“You’re good as new, Emily!” her aunt said finally, when Emily was in her nightgown, sweet-smelling and dry. “And I reckon you’re going to sleep well tonight after all your adventures.”
Scrub brush in hand, Aunt Hilda opened the door to the parlor, with Emily right behind her, to tell Jackson he was next.
Jackson was not in a chair.
He was not on the sofa.
He was sitting in the loft, his legs dangling over the edge, and he had pulled the ladder up after him.
“Jackson?” Aunt Hilda said. “Your turn.”
Jackson only shook his head.
Emily could not believe this.
“Come on down here, boy,” Aunt Hilda told him.
“No,” said Jackson, scooting back against the wall. “I didn’t do nothing!”
“What are you talking about?” Aunt Hilda asked.
“I’m not gettin’ any beating with a brush,” Jackson declared.
Emily’s aunt looked down at the scrub brush in her hand and then up at Jackson. “Why, child, I’m not about to beat you!” she said. “The only thing this brush will do is scrub you clean. I’ve never beaten a child before, and I’m not starting now. Please won’t you come down?”
Jackson slowly lowered the ladder and climbed down, watching Aunt Hilda over his shoulder. When he reached the floor, she put an arm around him and led him into the kitchen. “And once you two are tucked in,” she said, “I’m going to wash your clothes up good and clean so you’ll have a fresh start tomorrow in your new home.”
• • •
The days went on, bright and sunny. There was always something for the children to do around Aunt Hilda’s place.
A white picket fence surrounded the cottage, the barn, and the flower and vegetable gardens. It went all the way to the gate at the end of the lane. Just beyond the picket fence was the post-and-wire fence that bordered the grassland where the sheep and cows grazed. And running around the back of all the property, yard and pasture both, were the creek and woods.
Emily and Jackson explored everything there was to see—the windmill, the well, the barn, the shed; the springhouse, the meadow, the sheepfold, the creek. They rode Old Billy, the horse, and taught Spook to sit up and beg. They added a rock and a cave to Rufus’s pen, and watched the turtle climb onto the rock to sun himself. Emily’s hair grew longer, her arms and legs stronger, and Jackson gained ten pounds right off.
Jackson was the curious one. He liked to peep through every keyhole, look in every box, check out every cupboard, and open every door—even the heavy door to the storm cellar, which was outside next to the house. If there was a crank to turn, he cranked it. If there was a rope to pull, he yanked it.
Jackson was the hungry one too. He was always first at the table when it was time for supper.
One day Emily received a letter saying that the ten million dollars she had inherited was now in the bank. She would have to ride to the bank in town with Aunt Hilda to sign some papers to make it official—and to name her aunt her legal guardian.
Emily was thrilled. She didn’t like to talk about the money, because it made her think about her mother. And thinking about her mother made her sad. But, at last, she belonged someplace where she was loved again! That was more important than the money. She knew her aunt would love her even if she didn’t have a penny.
“I still don’t understand it,” Emily said as she and Aunt Hilda started off the next morning. Jackson stayed behind to paint the gate. “The bank said that the ten million dollars belonged to my mother, but she never had much money at all.”
“It works like this, Emily,” her aunt explained, pulling at the reins so Old Billy would keep to his side of the road. “The woman your mother worked for was very, very rich, and she had no husband or children. She had made out a will saying that when she died, all of her money should go to your mother, for her long and faithful service. But when they both died in the same accident, the ten million dollars became yours, because you are your mother’s only child.”
“But if it belongs to me, why did Uncle Victor think he could get it?” Emily asked, remembering the man with the silver-black hair of a wolf and the eyes of a weasel and the growl of a bear and a big tiger tattoo on one arm.
“Since he’s your mother’s brother, he thought he could be named your legal guardian, and then he could decide how to spend it,” said Aunt Hilda. “And I’m afraid he wanted to spend it all on himself.”
“I would rather have my mother back than a million billion dollars,” Emily said in a small voice.
“Of course, dear, but now we have to decide what to do with it,” Aunt Hilda said.
“I already know,” Emily told her. “I want to give it all to you. Jackson said it’s enough to buy a ranch.”
Aunt Hilda chuckled. “Gracious, child, it would buy ten ranches, and more. But Redbud’s just the right size for me, and now that I’ve got you and Jackson, I can’t think of a whole lot more I need. We have to make sure that money’s nice and safe so it will be waiting for you when you’re all grown up and needing it for yourself.”
When they reached the bank, Emily was seated at a big table with lawyers to the left of her and lawyers to the right. The bank president sat at the head of the table. Each lawyer in turn picked up a paper and read it to Emily, then handed her a pen and showed her where to sign her name.
“Now, Emily,” said the bank president in his high-collared shirt and his glasses that rested on the end of his nose, “your money is safe in this bank, and your aunt Hilda is your trustee. That means she will help you decide how and when to spend it. But would you like some of it now?”
Emily looked at her aunt. “Could we stop at the chocolate shop and get something for Jackson?” she asked.
“Indeed we could,” said Aunt Hilda. “And it might be a good idea to take some of the money home with us so it will be handy if we ever need it in a hurry.”
And because Aunt Hilda needed a new harness for Old Billy and a new roof for the barn and even a new pony, by and by, to help out, the men at the bank suggested that she take five hundred dollars home and keep it in a safe place.
After Emily and her aunt left, they stopped at the candy store to buy not only chocolates for Jackson and vanilla crèmes for Emily and Aunt Hilda, but also two brightly colored kites, one yellow and one green.
Back outside again, they had just turned the corner when Emily heard a loud clatter-clatter-rattle-rattle.
It was a gray carriage drawn by a gray horse. And on the side of the carriage, printed in big bold letters, were the words:
CATCHUM CHILD-CATCHING
SERVICES
REDBUD DIVISION
ORPHANS, STRAYS, AND
ROUSTABOUTS
ROUNDED UP QUICKLY
Out of habit, Emily ducked behind Aunt Hilda, clutching her aunt’s big friendly arm in one hand and the new guardianship papers in the other.
“Why, child, whatever is the matter?” Aunt Hilda said. “They’re not after you. I’m your legal guardian now. That’s settled and done with.”
“How can we be sure?” Emily asked as the gray carriage stopped and a man in a gray suit stepped out, looking first one way, then the other.
With a firm grip on Emily’s hand, Aunt Hilda marched right over to the man.
“Would you be needing any help?” she asked. “You seem to be looking for someone.”
Emily found herself shaking just from being close to the child catchers.
“Indeed I am,” said the man. “My agency is looking for a young rascal named Jackson, nine years old. A stagecoach driver said he’d got off here at Redbud and hasn’t been seen since.”
“Oh, really?” said Aunt Hilda. “And what has the rascal done?”
“He’s being sent to a family out west who needs a boy to work in their mill,” said the man. “He knows he
can’t stop off along the way.”
“I wouldn’t think a boy of nine was old enough to work in a mill,” said Aunt Hilda.
“Well, that’s not my problem,” said the gray-suited man. Even his voice sounded gray. “An orphan child should be glad for any roof at all over his head. It looks like he’s given us the slip. But we’ll find him, don’t think we won’t. If you see a hungry-looking lad with no place to sleep, I’d be obliged if you’d let us know.”
“I’ll certainly keep an eye out for him,” Aunt Hilda said. The driver got back into the gray carriage and shook the reins, and the gray horse started off again.
Emily looked up at her aunt in horror. “You won’t give Jackson to them, will you?” she asked.
Aunt Hilda led Emily over to their horse and wagon and climbed up. “I didn’t say I would, did I? I said I’d keep an eye out for Jackson, and believe me, I will. An eye out to see that those Catchum folks don’t catch him. And as you can see, they’re not after you.”
On the way home, Emily said, “That was how I first met Jackson. Before I got on the stagecoach to come to you, I was trying to hide from the child catchers, and I bumped into him. Jackson had a ticket for the stagecoach too, and all the way here, he helped me hide from them, and from Uncle Victor too.”
“You’re safe with me,” said Aunt Hilda, “and Jackson can stay as long as he likes.”
“Forever?” asked Emily.
“If he wants to,” said her aunt.
• • •
It was a fun afternoon. Jackson and Emily flew their kites so high that they let out all the string. They tied the ends to a fence post, then sat under a tree eating the candy Emily had bought, watching the kites bob about in the sky.
“What’s it like to be rich?” Jackson asked after a while.
“Feels pretty much like yesterday,” Emily answered. “And same as the day before that.”
“Yeah, but now you can have anything you want,” Jackson told her.
“No, I can’t. I can’t have my mother back,” Emily said. And they grew quiet.
After supper that evening, Aunt Hilda cleared the table and sat the two children down, one on either side of her.
Emily and Jackson Hiding Out Page 1
