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 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.

•••

An early light supper left plenty of time for Emily to make a quick trip back to Emma’s, now that the evenings were getting longer. Her mother agreed, on the condition that she be home before dark. Emily was surprised by her mother’s assent, but Kate had remembered hearing about some new people on a nearby farm, and assumed this was where Emily was ­headed.

Emily reached the rock in record time, but found herself in a brisk wind pelted with rain when she grabbed the stone. Although she had only her sneakers on her feet, she was thankful she’d dressed warmly in a thick sweater and a ­jacket.

Pulling the hood over her head, she tucked her chin to her chest and ran through the trees to Emma’s sod house. Once there, she noticed the flicker of a candle burning through the shutters of the window, and figured the family would be inside during the storm. Most of the family appeared to be present when she peeked inside, except for Emma’s father and two of her older ­brothers.

Mrs. Elliott’s back was to Emily. She was darning socks by the window as she rocked Molly in the cradle. When she turned her head, Emily could see lines of concern and apprehension etched on her face. The other family members seemed to be gathered around the table quietly playing cards. At times Bella or Beth checked on a lone figure lying on one of the cots. It took Emily a few moments to realize it had to be ­Emma.

What could be wrong with her? Emily had to have a closer look. She wiped the trickles of rain off her face, and in desperation tried to think of a way to get into the house without arousing any undue ­attention.

Just then Emma’s father and brothers emerged from the sod barn. Buffeted by the wind, they ran across the yard. The sky lit up with lightning as they neared the woodpile, where they each gathered an armload of firewood. When they reached the house and yanked open the door, Emily was right beside them. She slipped inside when a heavy gust of wind grabbed the door from Duncan’s hand. By the time he slammed it shut, she’d moved to Emma’s ­bedside.

Her friend lay quiet and pale like a fragile porcelain doll, with her long sandy hair in matted strands on her pillow. She opened her eyes when a spasm of coughing overtook her, and for an instant she seemed to recognize ­Emily.

“Oh, my God. Emma, what’s happened to you?” Emily whispered urgently over the clunking of wood being thrown into the wood box. She reached out and swept her hand across the girl’s forehead. Emma was hot to the touch. Her breathing was strained and irregular. Emily knew she had to do something, but ­what?

Then Emma’s mother rushed to her side and Emily stepped out of the way. She watched as Mrs. Elliott removed a cloth from the girl’s chest and replaced it with another. From the acrid smell, Emily thought it must be one of the mixtures she’d taught them to make. She was pleased by this, but wondered what else were they doing for her ­friend.

A moment later Bella arrived by the bedside and tried to get Emma to swallow a mouthful of some tonic, but the movement of raising her head brought on an even worse spasm of coughing. As Bella laid Emma’s head down on the pillow, Emma’s father ­approached.

“How is the lass?”

“No change,” his wife replied, and shook her head sadly. Gently Mr. Elliott clasped his calloused hand on Emma’s shoulder, then bowed his head and moved away. Her mother pulled the covers back up to her chin and with a forlorn sigh returned to her rocking chair by the window. Bella sat for a moment at the edge of the cot, staring down at ­Emma.

Maybe Bella can hear me, thought Emily moving closer. She called quietly at first, but when there was no answer she shouted. No one responded, except Molly, who began whimpering. In frustration, Emily yelled as loud as she could. This caused Molly to scream. While pandemonium broke out over the baby’s sudden shrieking, Emily sagged against the wall and slid to the floor. She wept quietly. She could hear the howl of the wind outside, and the drumming of the rain as it lashed against the ­shutter.

Fear and despair clutched at Emily. Molly was the only one who could hear her, and she couldn’t communicate. Emma wasn’t responding at all. A coldness crept through her body, and Emily knew it was not from being drenched and chilled in the thunderstorm. The house was exceptionally warm with all the people inside and the roaring fire from the cookstove. But Emily couldn’t keep her teeth from chattering. She had never been so ­scared.

Suddenly Geordie volunteered to venture outside for some more medicinal plants. They were running low. “Maybe they’ll help Emma,” he suggested in a low ­voice.

Emily applauded from across the room. Yes. Maybe Geordie’s plan would be the turning point. She stepped towards him, then halted when his mother rose from her ­seat.

“You can’t go out in this, lad.”

“Let him go, Margaret.” Emma’s father drew her back. “The thunder and lightning have stopped. He’ll only get wet.”

Emily could tell he thought it was a good idea for the boy to have something to do. Geordie had been the closest in age to Emma, but close in other ways too – even though he’d always teased her. As Geordie dressed for the outdoors, Emily went once more to Emma’s ­bedside.

Gently she brushed the girl’s hair from her forehead. “Everything will be all right, Emma. It just has to be.” Then she bent and kissed her on the cheek. ­“Good-­bye, dear friend.” She turned and followed Geordie out the door. In her heart Emily knew there was nothing she could ­do.

A blast of wind took Emily’s breath away as she stepped outside. The rain was coming down in torrents, and she was soaked by the time she reached the rock. She replaced the stone quickly, relieved to find the evening dry in her own ­world.

•••

“That was certainly taking your curfew to the limit, Emily,” her mother said when she returned. “And how on earth did your hair get wet? And your clothes?”

“Aw, we were having a water fight.” Emily said the first thing that came into her mind. She was so upset about Emma she wasn’t thinking ­clearly.

“Well, that wasn’t a very smart thing to do. It’s not that warm out there. Honestly, Em, I wonder where your common sense is sometimes.” Kate shook her head in dismay. “Run up and have a hot bath. Then I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Do you want it in your room, or do you want to come down for it?”

“Upstairs, please. And thanks, Mom.” Emily gave Kate a smile, then plodded up the stairs. Her body felt like an icicle, and she had trouble lifting her feet. It was as if her ankles had huge stones tied to them. All she could think about was Emma. Emily prayed that her friend would be all ­right.