The Secret of Sentinel Rock (13 page)

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 wonderful 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 just 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.

Kate turned to Emily in surprise. “But I do, Em. Maybe only in small doses, but I do like to visit the farm once in awhile.” Kate seemed to mull Emily’s question over. “I guess because I grew up here, I kind of take it for granted. It’s just not as special to me as it is for you.”

“I suppose.” Emily wasn’t sure she understood her mother’s ­reasoning.

“I guess there wasn’t much of a future here for me. Then when I went away to the city to university and met your father, I knew there was no coming back.”

“But don’t you feel special when you’re out here?” Emily took a deep breath and swung around with her arms outstretched. “This is so wonderful. I could stay here forever.”

A strange look of wistfulness came over Kate’s face as she watched Emily spin around. “I wish I felt the same way about the prairies as you do. But I just don’t.” Kate patted Emily’s hand. “You know, you’re very much like your Grandmother Renfrew in that way. It’s kind of scary. The two of you seemed to have some special understanding that the rest of us never did.” Kate shook her head in ­bewilderment.

With rising hope, Emily asked again if there was any chance they could keep the ­farm.

“I really don’t see how, Em.” Kate looked really sorry for the decision. “If there was a way, we’d have thought of it.”

Although terribly disappointed, by now Emily was beginning to accept losing the farm. She figured if Emma’s granny and the rest of her family could pull up their roots from Scotland and settle in a new country, she’d somehow have to come to terms with not being able to visit her grandparents’ farm any ­more.

Mother and daughter strolled companionably back to the house, discussing their return to Regina on Sunday night. Emily was excited about seeing Courtney and Samantha again and everyone at school, but distressed at leaving Emma behind. She had only tomorrow to spend with ­her.

Aunt Liz was back from town when they returned. If she was surprised when Kate and Emily entered the house rosy and animated from their walk, she said nothing. She just gave Emily the “thumbs up” signal when Kate had her back turned. And Emily ­grinned.