The Secret of Sentinel Rock Page 9

  Gathering a handful of herbs and leaves, she rushed into the house and began measuring them into a pot. As she poured boiling water over them, she explained to Emma again what the various ingredients did. In another bowl she prepared a liniment to rub on their chests, hoping she’d remembered just exactly how her grandmother had prepared it. She’d seen Grandmother Renfrew do some of these things many times, but it was different when she had to do it herself. At least she knew none of the ingredients were toxic and if she’d put a little too much of one thing in, it wouldn’t harm the ­Elliots.

  “Are you sure you can remember all that?” Emily quizzed Emma anxiously when she was done. “Make sure you follow what I said exactly, otherwise it might not work.”

  Emma nodded and recited the information back to Emily as she laid each plant or root from the basket onto the table. Confident the girl understood, Emily headed for the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Good luck.” She ran back and gave Emma a ­hug.

  “Thanks for all your help, Emily,” Emma whispered into her ear. “You’re the best friend I could ever have.”

  Emma watched Emily walk across the room. Her eyes were full of admiration. ­“Good-­bye, lass.”

  ­“Good-­bye, Emma. Take care of yourself. See you soon.”

  As Emily reached the door, Molly let out a healthy cry and Emma’s mother awoke. Emily watched through the almost closed door as the woman sat up shakily on the edge of the cot and tried reaching for the unhappy ­child.

  “You’re awake?” Emma ran and hugged her mother. Then she picked up Molly. As she placed the squawking baby in her mother’s arms, Geordie and Sandy stirred at the noise. Emma turned and gave Emily a smile that said “everything is going to be all right now.”

  Emily closed the door softly and darted for home through the quickly failing light. When she reached the rock, she yanked the stone from her pocket and deposited it back in the crevice. With a jolt she found herself in total ­darkness.

  Instant terror gripped Emily. She could feel the fear all the way from her scalp to the pit of her stomach. She’d never been this far from the house this late at night. Not only that, she had no idea how long she’d been gone, or how much trouble she’d be in when she got ­home.

  Squinting to get her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she stumbled down the slope in what she hoped was the right direction. Gradually as she walked, the moon seemed to brighten the starlit sky, and she could see the trampled grass of a path in front of her. She quickened her pace when she heard the distant howl of a ­coyote.

  The evening was damp and chilly, and she felt numbed by the events of the day. Exhaustion was closing in on her, and halfway across the pasture, she tripped and fell. Shortly afterwards she heard a rustling in the buckbrush. She must have disturbed some creature. She shuddered and jumped back up to her feet, not wanting to guess what it might have been. A rabbit, she told herself and ­ran.

  By now she could make out a faint glow in one of the windows of the stone house ahead, but it was odd the place wasn’t lit up more. She found it even stranger when she finally crawled through the pasture fence into the yard and discovered there was a light only in the ­kitchen.

  Cautiously she opened the porch door to the chirping of crickets close at hand. She couldn’t hear any sound inside, except the hum of the fridge. At the table a hastily scribbled note in Aunt Liz’s handwriting leaned against a vase of ­flowers.

  Another shot of adrenalin pulsed through Emily’s body as she read how her mother had fallen and injured her wrist. Aunt Liz had taken her to have it ­x-­rayed at the hospital in town, but they didn’t know when they’d return. Except that it would be sometime tonight. Emily was to call either the Fergusons or the Barkleys, if she needed ­anything.

  Emily wilted into a chair. At least her mom probably wouldn’t know how long she’d been gone. But she wondered how badly her mom was hurt. How had the accident happened? Emily laid her head on the table. She didn’t think she could take any more emotional upheavals today. As she lay there calming down, she felt herself almost nod off to sleep. Then she jerked her head up. She had to get up to ­bed.

  As she pulled herself to her feet, she realized she was hungry. She hadn’t eaten all day. Yet when she opened the fridge, the only thing that appealed to her was a glass of milk. Emily downed it and dragged her weary body up the ­stairs.

  As she passed the spare room on the second floor, she had an overwhelming desire to take her grandmother’s handmade quilt with her. Lethargically, she pulled the quilt off the top shelf of the closet and carried it up the last flight of stairs. Flopping onto the bed, she kicked off her runners, dragged the quilt over her, and fell into an exhausted ­sleep.

  Some time later, she heard the vague sounds of her mother and aunt returning. Emily remembered crawling under the rest of her covers before they came up to her room to tell her everything was fine and to say good night. But she wasn’t sure if she’d answered them. She drifted back to sleep, feeling relieved that her mother had only a sprain and hopeful that Emma’s family was ­recovering.

  Chapter ­Nine

  Emily slept soundly most of the night, but awakened with a start just before dawn. Although still a little groggy from her ordeal of the day before, she felt an urgent need to find out how Emma’s family was doing. Quickly she changed into fresh clothes and ran a brush through her hair. Folding the quilt, she tiptoed down the stairs and slid it back into the closet, being as quiet as she ­could.

  Minutes later she slipped out of the house and jogged across the pasture. A stiff breeze made her pull her jacket closer about her. She could hear faint twitterings in the trees as she passed, and by the time she reached the rock, the dark sky was tinged with ­colour.

  With taut fingers she reached for the stone, and found herself shifted into early afternoon and a hazy sky. Although the sun warmed her body, she still felt tense and worried as she walked down the familiar path through the stand of poplars. Her throat tightened as she approached the clearing where Emma’s home stood. What would she find ­there?

  A bubble of laughter burst from Emily when she spotted Emma sitting with Molly on a quilt in front of the house. She was braiding onions. In the garden, Emma’s mother and sisters were digging rows of potatoes and carrots, laying them in the sun to dry. She could hear oxen bellowing and the shouts of the men in the field in the distance. How wonderful to find things back to normal again in Emma’s world!

  Geordie suddenly emerged from a deep hole in the ground on the west side of the house, and Emily felt her face break into a grin. He was always popping up from somewhere, and she was glad to see he was active and healthy again. A wheelbarrow heaped with cabbages stood by the entrance. Geordie was probably hauling them down to the root cellar for the family’s winter ­use.

  Emily crossed the yard to join Emma, who hadn’t noticed her yet. The baby gurgled and pointed as she approached, making her sister glance up. Emma jumped up and ran to meet Emily. They swung each other around and ­hugged.

  “Oh, I’m so glad to see you, lass,” said Emma, coughing a little and trying to catch her ­breath.

  Emily could hear a slight wheezing in Emma’s chest as she hugged her again. She drew back and looked at her friend. “Are you okay?” Emma looked pale and drawn, ­thinner.

  “I’m fine. I’ve just a silly cough that won’t go away. Come. Sit with us, if you have time.” She turned back and settled beside Molly, who was trying to stuff dirt into her mouth. “No, no, little lass. The soil is not meant for you to eat,” she murmured to the ­child.

  Emily joined them and distracted Molly by blowing on a blade of grass between her thumbs. Molly obviously could sense Emily’s presence just as Emma could, and the strange ­trumpet-­like sound made the baby laugh. She crawled towards Emily. But Emma grabbed her and set her back in the ­shade.

  “Looks like everyone’s recovered. Am I right?” Emily grinned at her ­friend.

  “Yes, we’re all fine. Thanks to your won
derful brews, Emily.” Emma laughed, and sputtered into a handkerchief from her apron pocket as another fit of coughing overtook ­her.

  Emily looked at Emma uncertainly, but the girl waved at her and nodded that she was all right. “I’m just so glad I was in time to help….” Emily’s thoughts turned to Emma’s granny. At least she’d helped most of them. The rest of her sentence went ­unspoken.

  After a few silent moments, Emma told Emily how they’d buried her grandmother the next morning after Emily had left. By then Sandy, Geordie, and her father were well enough to do it. They laid her to rest on the far edge of their homestead quarter in the shade of some aspen trees on a little rise. She was near enough for Emma to visit whenever she wished. Emily felt good about this, especially for Emma’s ­sake.

  ­“Wha-­hoo!” The yell came from around the corner of the house. In the next instant a salamander came flying through the air. It landed on Emma’s lap. With a yelp, she grabbed the ­lizard-­like creature by its tail and jumped to her feet. Emily watched in amazement as Emma tore after Geordie, who was laughing as he raced towards the slough. He was too fast for Emma though, and she soon gave up, throwing the small amphibian into the ­bush.

  She returned slowly; the last few minutes of exertion seemed to have been too much for her. In horror, Emily watched Emma collapse into a coughing fit at her ­feet.

  “Emma, how long have you had this dreadful cough?” she asked in ­alarm.

  “Only a couple of weeks. I’m all right. Really.” Emma gasped for breath, trying to evade Emily’s ­stare.

  But Emily could see a flash of fear come unbidden into Emma’s eyes just before she bent to retrieve Molly. As they talked, Emily couldn’t dismiss the feeling of anxiety that was niggling at her solar plexus. Emma was obviously rundown from caring for her sick family, and it was doubtful that she’d had much opportunity to rest ­since.

  As Emily handed Molly some pebbles to admire, she gently reminded Emma to keep preparing some of the herbal tonics that would help relieve her cough. She also suggested several other mixtures that might help. Emma promised to try ­them.

  “I’ve told Mum how to make all the plant remedies you showed me,” added Emma softly. “She thinks I learned them from Granny. Or that I have a natural talent.”

  The girls chuckled together, and then it was time for Emily to go home. Emma seemed reluctant for Emily to leave. Quickly scooping up Molly, she told Emily she would accompany her back to the ­rock.

  They found the trail through the bluff easier to walk along now that the foliage was spent and falling to the ground. The sky had cleared, and the wind was calm in the bright autumn sun. An occasional bee droned lazily across their path. Underfoot, leaves crunched, and a hawk sailed high above the ­trees.

  As they emerged onto the meadow, Emma exclaimed in joy at the Indian paintbrush and the last vestiges of yarrow and foxtails that grew around the base of the rock. She hadn’t been to their special place in ages, she ­said.

  The girls stood looking over the valley, breathing deeply as they watched a huge flock of geese rise from the far marsh and soar towards the south. Molly giggled and clapped her hands at the great honking chorus as the waterfowl passed directly overhead. The girls clapped with her; then Emma set the child on the ­ground.

  Emma clung to Emily a long time when they hugged ­good-­bye. Emily felt a strong kinship and affection pass between them. “Take care, Emma,” she whispered, worried about her friend’s ­health.

  “You too, lass. You’ve been a godsend to me and my family.” Then she bent and gathered the baby in her arms. ­“Good-­bye,” she called, her voice ­cracking.

  Emily felt tears begin to roll down her cheeks as she watched Emma and Molly disappear into the trees. But she didn’t know ­why.

  A moment later she heard Emma shriek. “Geordie, you scamp. What are you doing spying on me like this?”

  “I only came to find you,” he protested. “Mum was looking for you. What do you do out here all the time, anyway?”

  Giggling in relief, Emily wiped the dampness from her face with the back of her hand. Geordie sure could be a pest sometimes. She deposited the stone back into its special place and set out for ­home.

  •••

  Emily managed to return without her mother and aunt’s knowledge, and even had the breakfast table set when they awoke. Her mother appreciated her thoughtfulness, especially now that she wouldn’t be able to do as much with her right hand out of commission. However, Emily soon discovered that this minor problem didn’t stop Kate from finding things for her and Aunt Liz to do whenever she couldn’t do them ­herself.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Emily and Aunt Liz saluted Kate and moved the trunk farther against one wall of the attic. “Does this suit you, Ma’am?”

  Kate grimaced at the pair. “That’s just fine.” She crossed the room and picked up a small ­box.

  “And what would you like us to do with this dresser, Your Highness?” Aunt Liz made a sweeping bow before Kate, who sat on a chair by the head of the stairs. She was sorting through some ­jewellery.

  Kate sighed and pointed beside the ­trunk.

  Emily followed Aunt Liz’s example and marched over to her mother. Scarves were draped over her arms and she held them out for Kate’s inspection. “Your Majesty. Would these be of any use to you?” She bowed low and the scarves dropped into a colourful heap on the floor. Emily giggled as she and Aunt Liz bonked heads trying to retrieve ­them.

  “I think that’s about enough, you two,” Kate said through clenched ­teeth.

  “Have we angered Your Highness? Oh, what shall become of us?” Emily and Aunt Liz raised their hands in front of their faces in mock ­terror.

  “I said, cut it out.” Kate raised her voice, then calmed down somewhat. “Okay, okay. I know I can be a bit of a dictator at times, but I think you two can understand why I’m not in the best of moods.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Emily shrugged her shoulders, and looked over at Aunt ­Liz.

  “Sure we can,” Aunt Liz agreed, smiling. “It’s not every day you sprain a wrist.” Then almost in a whisper she said, “Thank heavens.” And she winked at Emily. A little louder, she added, “Anyone who isn’t watching where they’re going and falls off a grain bin step is allowed to be a grouch.”

  “I’m not a grouch,” Kate protested over the laughter of the other ­two.

  “Yes, you are, Mom. Lighten up.” Emily grinned at ­her.

  Kate scowled, but said very little for the rest of the morning, other than to grunt an assent or bark out a “no” to some question one of them ­asked.

  The sky became overcast and it began drizzling around noon. Aunt Liz decided to drive to town for the mail while Kate took a painkiller and had a nap. Emily turned down her aunt’s invitation to go along and escaped to her room. She wrote in her journal for a while, going over her experiences with Emma. But she soon found herself lying on the bed worrying ­instead.

  She felt like she’d weathered a whole lifetime with the pioneer girl in just the few days since she’d known her. By now, Emily was fairly certain that Grandmother Renfrew might belong to one of the other branches of the Elliott family that Emma had said would be immigrating in a few months. As she thought about asking Emma more about her extended family, Emily wondered how Emma was feeling. She drifted into a fitful sleep with images of the farm, her grandmother, and Emma all rolled into ­one.

  She awoke sometime later and noted how quiet the house seemed. Tiptoeing down to her mother’s bedroom, she was surprised to find Kate lounging in bed with a book propped up on her chest. Emily couldn’t recall her mother ever doing such a ­thing.

  “Hi, Em. I haven’t rested in the afternoon like this for years,” she said dreamily. “It’s kind of nice.”

  Emily agreed, as she sat on the window seat by the bed. She snuggled into the pillows when she realized her mother felt like ­chatting.

  “I’m sorry for being so irritable earlier, Em. Guess I was ju
st feeling sorry for myself.”

  “That’s okay,” Emily replied. “Guess your wrist must hurt a bit, huh?”

  “Yeah, kind of.” She looked at her bandaged wrist. “But I feel better now.”

  “Good.” Emily felt closer to her mother than she had in a long time, but the silence between them now made her a little ­shy.

  When Kate spoke again she had a wry smile on her face. “I’ve been thinking, Em. You were right. I do need to take some time for myself once in a while. And spend some time with you too. Maybe later we could take a walk. What do you say?”

  “That would be great, Mom.” Emily was astonished at the change in her mother. Of course, this also put a damper on Emily’s plans for visiting Emma again that day, but she wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to spend some time with her mom. If she seemed reluctant to go, Kate might never offer ­again.

  By ­mid-­afternoon the rain stopped and a bright sun beamed through the clouds. Emily was still awed by her mother’s decision to go for a walk, but gladly donned rubber boots and set out with Kate across the pasture. She was amazed to discover her mother actually knew the names of wildflowers and some of the other ­plants.

  “Every time I stepped out the door your grandmother was telling me the names of everything. I guess some of it must have sunk in,” said Kate, stooping to pick a feathery dandelion head. She blew it at Emily, and grinned as the seeds parachuted into the ­sky.

  They had a contest then, with Emily winning because her mother couldn’t pick fast enough with her uninjured left hand. “No fair,” Kate called finally. “I give up.”

  They walked along the grassy trail in silence for awhile. They almost went as far as the rock, but Emily steered her mother away. She didn’t want to take any chances of something weird occurring and having to explain. They were having a pleasant time. At least Kate seemed to be enjoying it. She was smiling and her face looked ­relaxed.

  “Mom, how come you don’t usually seem to like it out in the country?” Emily blurted out. Then wished she hadn’t asked. She didn’t want to break their congenial ­mood.