The Willow Tree Girl

The Willow Tree Girl Joanna M. Weston

Electric eBook Publishing

The Willow Tree Girl by Joanna M. Weston Copyright © 2003 Joanna M. Weston All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without prior written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Pub lisher’s note: This book is a work of fic tion. Names, char ac ters, places and in ci dents are the prod uct of the au thor’s imag i na tion or are used fictiously, and any re sem blance to ac tual persons liv ing or dead, events or lo cales is en tirely co in ci den tal. Man u fac tured in Can ada . National Li brary of Can ada Cat a loguing in Pub li ca tion Data Weston, Joanna M The wil low tree girl [elec tronic re source] / Joanna M. Weston.

ISBN 1-55352-015-7 1. Saanich (B.C.)—Ju ve nile fic tion. 2. Time travel—Ju ve nile fic tion. I. Ti tle. PS8595.E75W54 2003a

jC813’.54

C2003-910863-5

PZ7.W5263Wi 2003a

Electric eBook Pub lishing 6369 Oak Street Powell River, B.C., Can ada V8A 4K9 http://www.electricebookpublishing.com

For Emma Jane Mary and thanks to: Public Archives, Victoria, B.C. Mill Bay Public Library, Mill Bay, B.C. Joy Phillips, Scottish Country Dancer

Chapter One The willow tree grew at the end of the garden, beyond the wide stretch of lawn, past the small rose garden. It was old and tall, with branches that swept the ground with sharp lime-green leaves. They seemed to beckon Sarah. Was it the wind that moved them? Or was someone hidden behind the veil of branches, making them quiver? Sarah chewed her thumbnail as she sat on the front step of Gran’s house. She noticed a robin tug at a worm in the grass. Sparrows gossiped on the wooden fence along the road. From around the back of the house she could hear laughter as Gran and her eight-year-old brother, Toby, painted garden chairs. They were standing outside the back door when tall, thin, white-haired Gran had said, “Toby, you can help me paint the chairs.” “I can help too!” said Sarah. “I think maybe not. Why don’t you find a book? You can read in the sun round the front.” Sarah had dragged her feet as she went around the house without looking for a book. She knew she’d knock over the paint can or fall over the chairs when they were wet. That was why Gran didn’t want her help—Sarah was clumsy and always had been. But Gran didn’t have to rub it in. Sarah nibbled her thumbnail, ripped a tiny piece and spat it out. She twisted her feet in the gravel path below the step. She wiped tears away and sniffed. It was the first week of

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July and she should have been at computer camp for ten-year-olds with Sue, her one real friend. It all started on Saturday when Mum had emergency surgery to remove her appendix. Dad couldn’t take time off until August. So Gran drove down the Saanich Peninsula to bring Sarah and Toby back to her home. Now here she was in Saanichton, a small town north of Victoria on Vancouver Island, B.C. Mum was an accountant. She worked from November to May for a large accounting firm in Victoria, giving her summers free to be with Sarah and Toby. Dad, a sales manager, always took his holidays in August. This summer would certainly be different. Sarah longed for Mum to be well. She wanted to be home with Calico, her cat. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She sniffed again and wiped her face with the back of one hand. Being at Gran’s with Mum and Dad had always made the visits busy. They liked to go to the Farmer’s Market at the Saanichton Fairgrounds where they met people they knew. Sarah enjoyed the Fairgrounds but not meeting people she didn’t know well herself. A brief gust swayed the willow tree. Sarah remembered last summer when the family visited Gran: the willow had been a quiet place to read. Today she was sure the tree was calling to her. She stood up and crossed the gravel path, scuffing the stones as she went. The robin flew up into an apple tree. Sarah stumbled, tripping on the raised edge of the lawn. The sparrows rose to the roof of the house. A car went along the road. She wished she was coordinated, that she didn’t fall over things, over her own feet as she did in her Scottish country dance lessons. She wished she were like Dad who’d won cups and prizes for Highland dancing. Or like Gran who had taught Scottish country dancing until her arthritis got too painful. Sarah’s lessons were a joy and a frustration. She loved the music but her feet never did what she wanted. She wanted to

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excel at Scottish country dancing so badly—it was her one ambition—but she knew her clumsiness disappointed Dad. If only she could make Dad, Mum and Gran truly proud. Suddenly, the wind lifted Sarah’s short hair. She ran across the grass, arms out. Flying. The small rose bed in the center of the lawn caught her attention and she stopped quickly, almost overbalancing. Fragrant pink and yellow roses blazed in the sunshine. She reached out and touched one, wondering if Gran would take her and Toby to the Butchart Gardens. Sarah loved going there, seeing the flowers and the fountains floodlit in the evening. She turned briefly to look back at Mill House. Gran had always lived there. It was more than a hundred years old. A square, two-storey white house with freshly painted green window trim and a black front door. Rhododendrons and heather grew under the front windows. Apple trees rose beside the fence—trees Sarah and Toby had often climbed. Sarah went around the rose bed and stopped before the curtain of long pointy leaves. They rustled and whispered. She hummed Road to the Isles, one of Dad’s favorite Highland dance tunes, as she leaned forward, trying to peek between the branches. They were surprisingly yellow, thin and numerous. Sarah reached out, pulled the branches aside and peered in. It was cool, shadowy and dim. Full of a shushing sound that seemed to say “Come in, come in, Sarah.” Still clinging to the branches, Sarah swung into the willow-cave. Sunlight, filtered through the arch made by the trunk and the lift and fall of branches, moved about her. She closed her eyes to listen better. She heard the breeze in the willow leaves. It sounded like someone was calling her name... Sarah opened her eyes. A girl about her age sat on the thin grass, leaning against the willow trunk. “Hello,” she said. Sarah stared, astonished by the girl and her strange clothes. The girl stared back from wide, dark eyes.

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“Who are you?” “I’m Minna.” The girl played with one of the long braids that hung over the high ruffled collar of her olive-green dress. “You are Sarah.” “How do you know?” “I just do.” “Where do you live?” “Here.” “You can’t live under a tree!” “I live here.” Minna patted the ground beside her full skirt. Sarah considered her carefully. Minna’s dress had long tight sleeves with ruffles at the wrist and deeper ruffles around the hem. She wore thick white stockings (they were too thick to be pantyhose) and boots. “Where do you get your boots from?” Sarah asked, admiring them. They were unlike any she had ever seen—black, reaching above Minna’s ankles and tightly laced all the way from the toes. “From a shoemaker in Victoria. Papa and Mama have all our shoes made by him,” Minna replied, turning her feet to expose the thick soles and heels. “What about your shoes?” “My runners? We got them in Victoria, at the Town and Country Mall. Where’s the shoemaker?” “He’s at 209 Douglas Street. And there’s a bakery just down the street that makes the best ladyfingers!” “But there are apartments there! I can’t remember a shoe store there at all!” Minna’s small mouth pursed with disapproval. “Why do you wear trousers?” That surprised Sarah. “Everyone wears jeans.” “I don’t.” Minna sniffed. She smoothed her skirt with careful hands. Sarah was baffled. Just because she wasn’t dressed up for Sunday School didn’t mean she was improperly dressed. They looked at each other. Sarah wasn’t sure she liked Minna. She seemed vain. But she was someone to talk to.

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“How old are you?” Sarah asked. “Have you lived here a long time?” “I’m almost ten and I’ve lived here always.” “I’m ten and a half.” Sarah was glad she was the elder. “I’ve never met you here before. And I’ve visited Gran lots of times. Not without my parents like this time, though.” “That’s why you’ve never seen me before.” Sarah sat down facing Minna. It was the wrong moment for Toby to start calling Sarah. “Don’t go away, Minna, I’ll come back in a minute.” But Minna was fading. Sarah could see the tree trunk through her dress, through her face. “I’ll come back. I’ll come back.” Minna’s voice hung softly on the wind. Sarah sat still. Toby was coming closer, his voice getting louder: “Sarah, where are you? It’s food time!” He sounded annoyed. Sarah rolled over onto her stomach, reached forward and pulled the trailing branches apart. “I’m over here.” Gran, her hair touched by sunlight, stood on the front step. She laughed when she saw Sarah. “Of course! Under the willow tree! My sister, Ellen, and I loved it and played under there for hours.” Toby turned away on seeing Sarah. He raced round to the back of the house out of sight. Sarah stood up and came out from under the tree, brushing her clothes. She was full of wonder and excitement. While she couldn’t tell Gran about Minna, she could ask. She crossed the lawn to join Gran, half-falling as she reached her. Gran put out a steadying hand. “Gran, do you know anyone called Minna?” “Well, that’s my second name!” “Oh!” She looked up at Gran. She knew immediately Gran wasn’t the grown up version of the girl from under the willow tree—she had gray eyes while Minna’s were dark brown. But if Gran wasn’t the willow tree girl, then who was?

Chap ter Two Sarah rested her wrists on the mahogany table, a half-eaten hamburger in her hands. A painting of Grandpa, Tobias Brian Morton, stared down at her from the wall opposite above the sideboard. Toby sat below him, eating contentedly. Gran was at the head of the table. Grandpa was a frowning kind of man—his narrow face and long nose seemed to disapprove of everything. Toby, apart from his glasses, looked a bit like him, though Toby didn’t frown much. Sarah wished they could eat in the kitchen. It was bright and cheerful but the kitchen table was only big enough for two. She’d helped make the patties and Gran had cooked them. Gran said they’d have ice cream cones afterward. She always bought Tin Road ice cream. Sarah’s favorite. “Gran, what did you wear when you were a girl?” Sarah puzzled, trying to imagine Minna as Gran and Gran as Minna even though she knew it wasn’t true. “Finish your mouthful first!” Sarah swallowed and asked again. Gran looked out of the window across the vegetable garden behind the house. “I used to wear dresses. Pretty ones with flowers on them.” “Did you wear boots in summer?” “No, leather shoes for outside. My feet used to get sore if we walked a long way.” “Did you buy your shoes in Victoria?”

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“Yes, on Fort Street. The place closed long ago though.” Sarah wondered how she could find out about Minna’s shoemaker, but instead asked, “Was your hair long, or short like mine?” “You are full of questions.” Gran laughed. “My hair was long and darker than yours. I wore it in braids, tied with ribbons.” “Did you always dance, Gran?” Sarah licked ketchup from her fingers. “We did ballroom dancing when I was young. I learned Scottish country dancing in Vancouver after I married.” Gran passed a paper napkin to Sarah, then one to Toby. “Do I look like you used to, Gran?” Gran studied Sarah. “Your eyes are darker, your nose shorter and your mouth is wider. You are more like Ellen—she was the better looking one!” “What happened to Ellen?” “She married your Great Uncle Walter and went to Nanaimo.” Gran sounded far away, as if she was seeing something that wasn’t there. Toby interrupted to ask if Gran had a butterfly net. Gran smiled at Toby. “And you’re just like your father. Always in a hurry! Yes, I think there’s a net in the storeroom somewhere, though it might need mending.” Toby wanted to be a zookeeper. He watched all the nature programs on TV. He was also an expert on zoo websites. Sarah sometimes wished that Toby could sing in tune, or even dance in time. Then she wouldn’t feel so burdened to dance well herself. Sarah found Toby’s pursuits daunting. When they visited Gran last year, he collected snakes and kept them in the lean-to behind the house. One of the snakes escaped when Toby took it inside to show off. There was quite an uproar until it appeared under a bucket in the kitchen. He kept spiders in jars, again in the lean-to, the year before.

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“Anyway,” Gran went on, “finish your hamburgers and we’ll eat our cones on our way to help Derek milk Bessie. He said we could come. But first we’ll phone and see how Mum is doing today.” Sarah made the call and Dad answered. “Hi! How’s Mum?” “She’s doing very well. She’ll be home tomorrow!” “And how’s Calico?” Dad laughed. “I fed her just now and she’s fine.” Sarah sighed. A tear trickled down her face. “Did Sue go to computer camp?” “I haven’t heard, but I expect so. You could call her.” She told Dad they were going to the Nyes’. Next Toby, then Gran, took the phone. After Gran hung up, she said Mum would stay in Victoria for about a week before coming up to join them. But they could go down and see her in a day or two. Dad told Gran that Toby had a dental appointment on Wednesday. “And yes, Toby, we’ll find the net tonight or tomorrow morning!” Sarah made her ice cream cone. Talking to Dad made her feel better about Mum and Calico. She thought of phoning Sue and decided not to—how could she explain Minna? Maybe she’d phone when she knew more about her. Going to the Nyes’ farm next door to Mill House was fun and familiar. She enjoyed helping Romey and Leah, Derek’s two daughters, who were fifteen and eighteen. Romey wanted to be a farmer; Leah planned to be an engineer and was working at a gas station for the summer. Romey babysat Sarah and Toby occasionally. Sarah wanted to be like her. She admired Romey’s warmth and her easy way with people. Sarah was first through the front gate. She licked her cone and hummed The Bugle March, the music for The Cumberland Reel. She did a couple of skip-change steps as she went along Mount Newton Crossroad but caught one foot in a pothole.

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“Wrong place to dance!” Gran called. Sarah turned into the driveway of Nyes’ farm. She took in the grove of cedar, fir and maples at the bottom of the valley to her right, the Nyes’ Big Field, their hay field, sloping up to the left. The farmhouse itself was a rambling one-storey building, a hodgepodge of roofs haphazardly connected. A dirty blue tractor stood in front of the door. Sarah loved the house for its odd angles and hiding places. The rooms smelled of wax polish, lavender and leather. The cowbarn stood a short distance from the house at the foot of the Big Field. Derek, a heavyset man with pepper-and-salt hair, welcomed them at the door. He commented on how Sarah and Toby had grown since last year and asked after their parents, especially Sally, their mother. He reminded them, as he always did, how he and Dad played together when they were young. Gran leaned against the barn door, talking to Derek and watching as Sarah and Toby took turns milking Bessie. She was a Jersey-Highland crossbred cow that gave rich creamy milk. Sarah liked the smells of the barn—cow-manure, hay and Bessie’s warm breath. She was comfortable on the three-legged stool. Her fingers worked rhythmically and easily and milk flowed musically into the bucket. She heard Toby poking around in the shadows. Derek said Toby wouldn’t find anything interesting as he’d recently cleared out the barn when he concreted its floor. “Makes it easier to clean than that old wood floor, which was rotten through, I can tell you. Bessie put her foot right through in one place. It was old as the house, I reckon.” Toby asked, “Did you find anything under the floor?” “As a matter of fact, we did! Would you believe a christening mug, a locket and a baby’s spoon!” They all spoke at once. “For goodness sake!” said Gran. “Can we see them?” asked Sarah.

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“Treasure!” exclaimed Toby. But they had to finish the milking first. Then they went to the house to see the “treasure.” As they passed the tractor Derek told them it was waiting for Leah to fix an oil leak. They gathered around the scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen, which was the hub of the Nyes’ life. The room had a low ceiling and a deep copper sink next to stainless sinks under wide windows overlooking the yard. There was a heavy old oak dresser against one wall, a modern stove and fridge against another. The dresser had a set of blue and white dishes stacked on its shelves together with bits of harness, wrenches, a harmonica, bills, newspapers, light bulbs, guitar straps, flashlights, books. It was a wonderful accumulation of everyday junk. Mary, Derek’s tiny, black-haired wife, once told Sarah she’d found an old set of bagpipes at the back of one of its deep lower cupboards. Mary put the kettle on and then a plate of cookies on the table before she brought the “treasure” out of a drawer. She told them Leah was at the gas station. Romey came in saying she’d heard their voices. Sarah greeted her with pleasure. Derek poked at the locket and chain with one long brown finger. “They were lying together, wrapped in a piece of old leather, under the corner of a loose board.” “All black and tarnished when we found them,” Mary said. “I’ve cleaned them up as best I could, but the chain has me baffled!” Gran picked up the locket and chain and looked at it. “I think I’d try letting it sit in buttermilk overnight, then cleaning it with toothpaste!” Sarah was as surprised as Mary seemed to be. Buttermilk and toothpaste to clean silver! It seemed bizarre. But Gran sounded definite. Mary and Gran went on talking about cleaning agents for silver. Romey showed Sarah how to open the empty locket. Sarah took it from Romey and opened it a couple of times herself.

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She put it down and picked up the baby’s spoon. She examined its big bowl and the handle that curled back on itself to make a loop. It was engraved with thin leaves. She held it in the palm of one hand and traced the pattern idly, her fingers sensitive to the grooves and whorls. The room faded, became misty and vague about her. She was seeing it through the outlines of the barn walls, the stall where Bessie had been and a girl—not Minna—crouched in a corner, wearing a long dress. The girl was looking over her shoulder. She appeared terrified. Sarah wanted to say something to the girl. She reached out, touched the table and dropped the spoon. The barn disappeared. The girl vanished.

Chap ter Three “What’s the mat ter?” Toby asked from across the ta ble, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Sarah frowned. “Nothing. Nothing’s the matter.” She chewed her thumbnail and tentatively touched the cup. She didn’t pick it up. Gran reached over and pulled Sarah’s thumb from her mouth. “Time to go home,” she announced, turning to the door. They went out to find the sky turning pink and shadows darkening the barnyard. They said goodbye to the Nyes and went up the driveway. Car lights passing along the road illuminated the trees and fencepost slightly. Sarah and Toby went ahead of Gran. “Oh! Come on!” Sa rah pulled at Toby im pa tiently when he slowed down to finish a cookie. “I want to tell you something. But you’re not to tell Gran, or anyone! Come on, we’ll go to the willow tree.” “Why the willow tree?” Toby protested. “You can tell me on the way home.” “No, there’s a reason. Just come on.” The willow tree was the best place. Minna might hear and come back and be with Toby, too. They ran along the road, impelled by Sarah’s urgency. Sarah stumbled once but grabbed Toby before she could fall on the tarmac. The sun flared pink, red and orange behind a line of clouds to the west.

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Sarah and Toby went into the garden to sit in the dim light under the willow. The branches rustled briefly. “It started this afternoon,” Sarah began. “What started?” “Oh, just listen. It’s difficult to explain because I don’t understand at all. I came under the willow tree—I thought someone was calling my name—and I found a girl here.” Before Toby could interrupt, Sarah hushed him by thumping his knee. She told him about Minna. The puzzled expression on Toby’s face reassured her. “You see, it really is strange. And I don’t understand it at all. I asked Gran if she knew anyone called ‘Minna’—that’s the girl’s name—and she said it’s her second name.” “Well, she could be her... I mean Gran could be Minna!” “No, she isn’t.” His skepticism annoyed her. “Minna has brown eyes, Gran’s eyes are gray. And Gran told me what she wore when she was ten. It wasn’t a bit like the things Minna wears.” “What did Gran wear?” “You heard what Gran said. She told me at dinner.” “I wasn’t listening. It didn’t sound interesting.” Sarah thumped Toby’s knee again with her fist. “Listen next time.” Sometimes she found Toby’s preoccupation with animals a nuisance. She described the clothes Gran used to wear and then Minna’s clothes in greater detail. She explained as much as she could. Finally he said, “You know, it seems to me this is time travel. It happens in Star Trek sometimes—time-warps and stuff like that.” “Of course! And there’s A WRINKLE IN TIME too!” Sarah paused and added, anxiously, “You won’t tell Gran, will you?” Sarah knew she’d found a friend-with-a-difference in Minna. But she didn’t want to explain her to Gran. Toby promised not to tell.

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“And if you do meet Minna, don’t talk about time travel!” Sarah could hardly see him in the fading light. The branches stirred gently with an errant whisper of a breeze. “If Minna’s from a hundred years ago she wouldn’t know what I was talking about anyway.” Toby brushed his hands over the bare, hard-packed ground. Sarah frowned. “I don’t even know what time she lives in!” “Ask her when you see her again.” Toby began to search the ground. He picked a blade of grass. “Anyway, why did you want to tell me here?” “I thought Minna would hear us talking. Then she’d know who you are and might join us.” “She’s heard about time travel now.” Toby tried to blow on the piece of grass held between his thumbs. He made loud trumpeting noises. Sarah ignored him. “Oh, it seems all wrong somehow.” “I don’t think so. After all, she is doing it, I mean, she is traveling in time. Or you did...unless she’s a ghost...” Sarah bit her thumbnail, thinking about Minna. She heard the click of the latch on the front gate—Gran was home and calling them. Sarah stood up in the almost-dark under the tree. “Come on, we’d better go.” Toby scrambled to his feet. “What spooked you in the Nyes’ kitchen?” Sarah shivered, parted the branches and went through. She told Toby about the girl in the long dress, as he emerged from the willow cave behind her. “You’re seeing things! She must have been a ghost!” “I think it was the girl who hid the treasure.” Sarah called to Gran across the darkening garden. The sunset had faded to a narrow band of scarlet and gold. The sky was black above them. “Which corner was she in?” Toby asked. Sarah tried to visualize the barn as she’d seen it when she held the spoon.

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“I think it was the far left-hand corner. Did Derek say where he found the treasure?” “I don’t think so.” “Come on then—and don’t say anything to Gran.” “We can always ask Derek where he found the stuff.” Sarah nodded. They crossed the deeply shadowed, silent garden. “But why? Why did she hide the things?”

Chap ter Four Sa rah hummed The Bu gle March as she dressed the next morning, the mu sic light and clear in her mind. She tried to do one of the Scottish country dance formations, but stumbled and banged her funny bone on the end of her bed. She sat on a chair, hold ing her el bow. Why oh why could n’t she be graceful like other people? Like Dad? Tears flowed down her cheeks as she looked at her feet. The smell of coffee came to her from the kitchen downstairs. Gran liked fresh-ground coffee for breakfast. Would Gran be able to help her with dancing or find someone who could? She jumped up and ran downstairs, burst into the kitchen and crashed into a chair. “Gran, do you know anyone who could help me with Scottish dancing? Or could you?” Gran flipped a pancake in the frying pan. “I can’t help you anymore, I wish I could. My arthritis makes me too stiff, Sarah. But Lissa Murray might be able to coach you a bit.” “Please, please would you ask her for me? Do you think she would help?” “It depends whether she’s around this summer. She goes to lots of Highland festivals as well teaching.” “But you could ask her?” Gran passed a plate with two pancakes to Sarah. “I’ll phone her later and see what she has to say.” “Thank you, Gran, thank you!”

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“Of course, we don’t know how long you’ll be here so it also depends how long your Mum is sick. Anyway, phone Dad tonight and ask him if it’s okay.” “I know he’ll agree,” Sarah said as she went to the dining room, “but I wish I’d thought of it when we were home.” Toby was already at the table. “I’m going to look for the butterfly net.” He finished wiping his plate with a piece of pancake then took his plate to the kitchen and asked if he could go and hunt for the net in the storeroom. Sarah poured syrup on her pancakes and began to eat. She remembered wanting to ask Derek where he’d found the treasure. Maybe she’d see Minna again today, too. Suddenly her elbow wasn’t as sore anymore: anything might happen today! She ate hungrily. Gran, just sitting down with her own pancakes and coffee, told Toby not to break anything. He disappeared, his feet thudding on the uncarpeted stairs. Gran talked softly through the rest of breakfast about how she’d played the piano in church concerts and Christmas parties when she was young. Sarah wondered when Gran would phone Lissa. She asked and Gran said she’d call after they’d washed the dishes. Gran didn’t have a dishwasher. Sarah and Gran finished eating then Gran washed the dishes while Sarah dried. Toby took so long hunting for the net that Gran had to call him. Sarah left the dishes on the counter for Toby to put away. She didn’t intend to do his share of the work. He hadn’t found the net but Gran said she’d look for it herself. Gran tried to phone Lissa Murray but there was no answer. Then she went out the back door to check on the weather. “The sun is shining again and it looks like a clear day. I think we’ll go to Saanichton this morning and finish those chairs this afternoon, Toby. How does that suit you both? And yes, the butterfly net first!” Gran and Toby went back inside and upstairs. Sarah ran to the willow to see if Minna was there. No one greeted her

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under the swaying branches. She went back to the house feeling disappointed. Gran had found the net. Toby waved it around in front of Sarah in the backyard. It had a couple of tears, but Gran said she’d be able to mend them. In town, they chose pizza for dinner. Sarah’s absolutely favorite dinner. They bought pizza crusts, mozzarella, ham and pineapple. They met Mary Nye as they came out. “Hello!” Mary drew them close to the store window to leave the sidewalk clear. “I forgot to tell you last night that Molly had her kittens a week ago. I’m surprised Derek didn’t tell you. Maybe he didn’t want them disturbed. But you must come and see them.” “We were also too interested in the treasure,” Gran said, chuckling. “My mother named a cat ‘Fred’ and that cat had kittens! We tried calling her Fredricka but it was too long. So Fred she was. We had to explain to visitors all the time. Fred lived to be eighteen. Molly might even be one of her descendants!” Sarah remembered Sue telling her kittens should be drowned. “You’re not going to drown the kittens are you?” “No, Sarah, we’re not. We’ll probably keep one, and give the rest away.” “Can Gran have one? Oh, Gran, please have one!” Sarah implored. Gran smiled. “You know, Mary, it might be a good idea. I’ve not had a cat since Dinah died and I do miss her. She was good company. I’ll think about it.” “We’ll keep one for you,” said Mary. “I think it’s an excellent idea.” “It looks as if I am to have a kitten! I think I’d like a female, they stay closer to home. But, about the treasure, did you try toothpaste for cleaning that old silver?” “Yes, I did and it worked well. I’ll use it again!” Mary replied. “Have you ever noticed the embroidered picture just inside the sitting room? Well, Romey thinks it’s connected to the treasure.”

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“What’s the picture of?” Sarah hadn’t been in the Nyes’ sitting room often as everything seemed to happen in the kitchen. “It’s not really a picture, it’s a rhyme. A strange one.” “Can you recite it?” asked Gran. “I’m not sure,” said Mary. “It’s been there so long, you’d think I’d know it by heart! There’s six lines... ‘One for the newborn, Two for my drinking, Three for the lovelorn...’ ” Mary scratched her head. “I’m not sure about the rest, something about ‘linking’ and ‘peace for the family.’ ”

Chap ter Five Sarah looked at Toby—more mystery! Their eyes met. This was exciting. “What does it mean? When can we come?” Sarah asked. “Maybe this evening. Give us a call,” said Mary. “The picture has always been in Derek’s family—one of the family heirlooms.” Sarah and Toby talked enthusiastically as Gran drove home—about the picture, the rhyme and the treasure. “The spoon is the ‘One for the newborn.’ ” Sarah agreed with Romey’s idea. “The cup is for drinking, and the locket must be the lovelorn one. That’s right, isn’t it, Gran?” “It sounds right.” Sarah whispered to Toby, “Do you think it has anything to do with the girl in the barn?” “Maybe,” he whispered back. July sunlight sparkled on the gardens of Saanich all the way back to Mill House. Once there, they made sandwiches for lunch and took them outside. Sarah admired the roses, petunias and pansies as she ate. After lunch Gran mended the butterfly net. She said she thought the weather would stay fine for today. The sky arched blue above them with just a few hurrying white clouds. “I need to put one more coat of paint on the chairs,” Gran said. “Would you like to help, Toby?” He glanced at Sarah. “Not today, if that’s okay.”

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Sarah didn’t offer to help. Gran smiled in a preoccupied fashion and went to change. Toby picked up the net. “I’m going to catch Cabbage White butterflies. There’ll be some on the cabbages!” Sarah lingered in the sunshine, listening to the sounds of summer. A robin sang from the garage roof and a crow called in the distance. Bees bumbled amongst the lilacs beside the back gate. She was glad Sue couldn’t see Gran, who came out soon wearing paint-covered long pants and an equally messy shirt. Sarah left her outside the back door with the chairs, the yellow paint and a paintbrush. A pair of swallows darted over the rose garden as she crossed the lawn to the willow. A robin landed in an apple tree and sang. Sarah hummed Muirland Willie and did a couple of skip-change steps. She paused to watch Toby between the rows of vegetables, net raised high. She wanted him to meet Minna so his decision disappointed her. He turned at the end of a row, saw her, and called, “I won’t be long.” A soft wind rustled the willow branches. “Minna?” Sarah divided the branches and slipped through the gap. Minna was sitting on the ground, leaning against the tree, just like yesterday. She was wearing the same dress too. “Why didn’t you answer when I called?” “I don’t answer, I just come.” “I don’t understand.” “I’m here. That’s what matters, isn’t it?” “I guess so.” Sarah changed the subject. She wanted to compare Minna’s time with her own. “We went to Mr. Nye’s last night and helped milk his cow.” “Is her name Bella?” asked Minna. “No. Bessie.” “He likes names that begin with B.” “Do you know him?”

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“I’ve milked Bella myself!” Minna stroked the sleeve of her dress. Sarah realized they were talking about different cows. This must be time travel! “But how could you, in a dress?” Minna tossed her head. “I’m not sure jeans are proper clothes for a girl. Besides, wearing a dress and milking a cow is easy.” Her attitude annoyed Sarah. It was Minna’s clothes that were odd! “Let’s go and find out!” “We have to go out the back way, not the way you came in.” “What do you mean ‘the back way’?” “Through the back of the willow.” Minna jumped up. “Come with me!” She caught Sarah’s hand and pulled her through the willow on the opposite side to Gran’s garden. Branches caught in Sarah’s hair and brushed against her bare arms. A leaf caught at the edge of her right eye. Outlines blurred as she came out from the shadows into hazy sunlight. She scrambled under the wooden fence after Minna, who caught her hand again. The grip of Minna’s hand kept Sarah from falling when she stumbled over clumps of grass and bumps in the ground. Minna talked all the time. She told how Mrs. Nye had died of the wasting sickness a year ago. How Willum and Rosemary had gone to live with Mr. Nye’s older sister in Victoria. How Willum and Rosemary were thirteen and nine years old and they all used to play together. As Sarah’s vision cleared she saw that they were crossing Derek Nye’s big field to his cowbarn. Starlings took off from the roof-line in a whir of sound. It seemed to be later in the day, perhaps six in the evening. What about Toby? And Gran? And dinner? Minna chattered about Mr. Nye. “He’ll let us have fresh milk to drink. Straight out of the bucket!”

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Sarah tried to listen and take in the view. A horse and cart stood in the yard behind the house, the horse munching from a nosebag. Yesterday evening Derek’s old blue tractor stood there. What had happened? The barn seemed not as old as it had last night. They must be in Minna’s time. She had traveled back in time with Minna. What year was it? Or was this all a dream? Minna let go of Sarah’s hand as they entered the yard. “Mr. Nye, Mr. Nye, can I milk Bella tonight? Please, please,” Minna called as she ran into the barn. “You’ll disturb Bella with your shouting, Minna.” Mr. Nye sat on a three-legged stool close beside a golden-brown Jersey cow. Three more cows waited to be milked in the murky light of their stalls. Minna lowered her voice. “Please may I milk tonight? And can Sarah milk too?” Mr. Nye glanced at Sarah. He looked at her again, long and carefully. “Have you milked a cow before?” “Yes, a few times.” This wasn’t Derek. This man was younger than Gran but still old. His brown hair was gray-flecked. She didn’t like the way he watched her from shadowed, dark eyes. He seemed to know her. But he couldn’t—she’d never seen him before. He wasn’t in her time. Sarah gave up. She would think about the strange things, people and happenings later. But it would be fun to milk another cow. She shivered as she peered into the dim corners of the barn. Light came only from the open door. She moved further into the barn as Mr. Nye and Minna changed places. Deep cobwebs hung in dusty corners and scraps of musty hay clung to planked walls. The overriding smell of hay came from the loft. Minna had tucked her dress neatly underneath her thighs. She worked the teats with practiced hands. Jets of milk pinged softly as they hit the sides of the bucket.

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“Watch me.” Minna spoke importantly. “You hold each teat with your fingers. Don’t use your thumbs. Then sort of ripple your fingers down the teat.” Sarah didn’t want to make a mistake or seem silly in front of this new friend. But she didn’t need to be taught how to milk a cow! “There.” Minna got up. “Now you have a turn.” Bella turned her head to look back at them from the milking stanchion. She chewed placidly and stared from limpid brown eyes. Sarah pulled the stool close to Bella and settled herself. She leaned her head against the curve of Bella’s side as she had with Bessie. She forgot the shadows and the cobwebs in the warm, comforting smell of cow. Was it only last night she’d helped milk Bessie with Derek, Toby and Gran? Two streams of milk flowed again from the teats under the pressure of her fingers. Sarah relaxed into the rhythm and glanced up at Minna triumphantly. “You must have done this before,” Mr. Nye spoke from behind Sarah. She smiled to herself contentedly and said she had. Sarah milked for a short time. Then Minna had another turn before Mr. Nye took his place on the stool again. “I’ve three other cows to milk, chores to do. I can’t take much longer over milking.” “We could help you,” Sarah said. “Blossom, she’s fussy and it’s the first season for the others to be milked, so better leave them to me.” “It’s time we went home, anyway,” Minna said, going out into the yard. Sarah watched Mr. Nye’s hands. The steady streams of milk fascinated her as they sang into the bucket. He looked up at her without losing the rhythm and said softly, “You’re one of Them, aren’t you?” “What do you mean?” He watched her darkly and gave no answer.

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Sarah backed to the door, frightened. Mr. Nye’s eyes gleamed in the white of his face. The sound of milking continued. As she went out into the fading light, he said, “You are one of Them. I’ve seen you in her room.”

Chap ter Six “It’s getting late, we must go,” Minna said as Sarah joined her. “What did Mr. Nye mean? He said I was ‘one of Them.’ ” Sarah crossed the yard to pat the horse. “He scares me.” She wanted to feel the leather and brass harness and see how the pieces fitted together. Touching and looking took her mind off Mr. Nye. “Mr. Nye scares you? He’s very nice. Very kind.” Minna turned toward the Big Field. “I don’t know what he meant. Do come on.” “I think he’s scary. Anyway, we don’t have to hurry. There’s all evening.” “It’s getting late, can’t you tell?” Clouds, their edges burned by the fiery light of the sun, massed across the sky. Wind stirred and bent the trees. “Why?” Sarah asked, “it’s early still.” “No, we can’t stay. Please don’t argue about it. I’ll explain, but it’s not that simple.” They went through the gate to the Big Field, shut the gate behind them and started across the pasture. Minna began to run. “Come on, Sarah, come on.” Sarah ran after her, fell and ran on, stumbled and half-fell. She wished she could run like Minna. Sarah felt the wind lift her hair and press her t-shirt against her body. Minna ran ahead, skirt tossing, braids bouncing on her back. Sarah followed Minna through the fence at the top of

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the field. They dove between the willow branches to land in a tangled, laughing heap against its trunk. “I’m glad you came today,” said Minna. “It was fun. I’d like Toby to come too.” “Who’s Toby?” “My brother. I’d really like him to come, he’d like it. Let’s go again, maybe when Mr. Nye isn’t there?” “We have to be sure we’re not away at night.” “Why?” “It’s all right to be from the tree during the day, but not at night. That’s a never-thing.” Suddenly, the branches of the willow tree parted. Toby stood there. They hadn’t heard him cross the grass. Sarah gaped at him. Minna vanished. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you. I caught two Cabbage Whites and a Meadow Blue.” “You interrupted! You can’t burst in like that when people are talking.” “What people? I heard you talking and it must have been to yourself.” “I was talking to Minna!” “She was here?” “Who else do you think I was talking to? This is where I found her the first time. I told you. And this is where we met this afternoon. And I’ve been to the Nyes’ in her time and Mr. Nye is scary!” She burst into tears. She told Toby everything that had happened between gulps and sniffs, ending with “and Mr. Nye said I was ‘one of Them’!” Toby stared at her. Sarah hiccupped and wiped her face with her t-shirt. “You don’t have to cry about it!” Toby said. “You gave me a shock—and made me mad. And Minna left!” “What did Mr. Nye mean?”

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“I don’t know. Minna and I were talking about going back to her time. We’re not supposed to be there in the dark. And then you interrupted.” “Well, call her back.” “Minna! Minna!” No reply. Sarah called again. She heard a soft swishing sound. Minna came around from behind the tree. She wore a different dress! This one was made of red and green plaid taffeta. It rustled as she walked. “This is Toby,” Sarah said quickly. Minna looked annoyed. “Why didn’t you answer, Minna?” “Because.” “I wish you’d answer properly.” “He shouldn’t have interrupted like that.” Minna shook out her lace-trimmed skirt primly. “It’s rude. This is my place to live.” “But he didn’t know you were here.” “Anyway, I’ve seen you now!” Toby had been staring at Minna. Sarah watched as Minna took in Toby’s haircut, glasses, t-shirt, scruffy jeans and runners. Minna frowned but held out her hand to Toby. “I am Minna Handley. I’m pleased to meet you, Toby Morton.” Sarah had never heard anyone speak so formally. It must be the way people introduced themselves in Minna’s time. She wanted to laugh but bit her thumb instead. Minna would hate being laughed at. “How come you’ve changed your dress?” Sarah asked. “I don’t wear the same dress two days in a row.” “But we’ve only just done the evening milking!” “That was last night.” Sarah stared, her mind whirling. “Well, are you going somewhere special today?” “No, but I had my photograph taken the last time we went to Victoria. I wanted to show you the dress I wore. I wore it to church this morning, too.”

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“It’s not Sunday!” Sarah exclaimed. “It is for me.” “What day was yesterday?” “Saturday, of course.” “What was the date?” Toby asked. “July the fourteenth,1905.” “Wow! It’s still Tuesday for us!” Sarah puzzled over how time moved faster when they traveled through it. She wondered if time spun or jumped sideways or went up and down? It certainly didn’t seem to stay in one place or behave in the tick-tock way a clock did. She gave up on questions about time. “Where did you go to church?” “St. Stephen’s, down the road!” “It’s still there! Gran goes to church there. It’s a very old church!” Minna turned to Toby. She spoke politely. “We were talking about not being from the tree in the dark when you came.” Toby’s eyes shone. Sarah knew he saw this as a great scientific experiment! “We shouldn’t be away from the tree at night.” Minna looked stern. “It’s very important.” Sarah thought she understood. “You mean, you can’t be out from here at night?” “I mean you, too.” “Otherwise we can leave the tree, anywhere, anytime?” asked Toby. “In your own time...” said Minna, “but I must be with you if you go into my time. And if you are caught out from here at night you must, really truly must,” Minna went on, “have a light all the time.”

Chap ter Seven It didn’t seem important. They’d never be out at night, ex cept with Gran. But to Minna, it was obviously of great concern. Then Sarah remembered the photograph and asked Minna about it. “We went to Mr. Jones’ on Esquimalt Road. He has a studio with a raised platform with gold brocade behind it.” Minna smoothed her dress with careful, clean hands. “I had my photograph taken by myself.” Sarah almost exclaimed, “Then I can find out who you are!” She hugged the knowledge of Gran’s photo albums to herself. Gran might even have the photo Minna talked about! “What was the camera like?” asked Toby. “It was a box on a tripod. The photographer stood under a black hood. He held a flash bulb in one hand.” Minna sounded like a teacher. Sarah tried to picture a camera in Minna’s time but couldn’t. “Anyway, let’s go to the Nyes’ farm,” Minna said. “But we just came from there! We had to leave because it was getting dark. So how can we go back right away?” “It won’t be the same time. It’s Sunday now.” “You mean time goes faster sometimes?” Toby asked. “I don’t know,” said Minna, “I think time speeds up when you’re not in your own time. I know it goes faster when I come into your time.”

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Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. The explanation made sense. Toby looked skeptical. “I thought time was the same always: one second is one second, and a minute is a minute no matter what you do!” “I don’t know, Toby, it’s what I think happens.” Minna sounded exasperated. “And I only come here in the light so it must be light there.” “How long were we at the Nyes’ just now?” Sarah was happy to know Minna didn’t have answers to everything. “We were there long enough to milk and that takes a while, doesn’t it? I think it was about an hour because we talked too.” “I caught three butterflies very quickly.” Toby smiled. “And I haven’t pinned them, just put them in a jar. It didn’t take more than about twenty minutes!” They looked at one another. “Gran’s busy, let’s go,” said Sarah. They went through the branches at the back of the tree. A gaggle of Canada geese moved further up the Big Field as they went through the fence. They crossed the field to the farm. Toby pointed out their short shadows. He told them it must be noon. With no one in the barnyard or the cowbarn and only one horse in the stable, they went to the house and knocked on the door. “We’re here, Minna,” someone called from the kitchen. Minna stopped abruptly in the kitchen doorway. Sarah and Toby bumped into her. They looked over her shoulder to see a boy and a girl standing on the far side of a scrubbed pine table. “Rosemary!” exclaimed Minna. “Hello, Minna.” Rosemary was almost as tall as Minna. She wore a long green cotton dress and looked about nine years old. “Who are you?” she asked Sarah and Toby.

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The boy, who wore a worn blue shirt and brown woolen trousers, greeted Minna with delight. He looked about thirteen-years-old. “I’m Sarah and this is Toby. We’re staying at Mill House.” “With me,” Minna said quickly. Sarah wondered if she should explain about their clothes. But she couldn’t explain how they’d traveled through time. She said nothing. “Did you like it in Victoria?” Minna asked. “Whereabouts did you live?” Sarah asked. Rosemary and Willum told them about their aunt’s home. They weren’t very happy there. They’d wanted their own home and friends, not the rolling landscape of Cadboro Bay Road. “Why don’t you come home to live?” Sarah asked. “We have!” Rosemary flipped her single braid back over her shoulder. “You have? You’ve come home?” Minna danced up and down, disturbing the marmalade-colored cat on the rag rug by the wood stove. “When did you come? Oh, it will be so much fun, all of us. We can have real games again.” They all began to talk happily. Rosemary and Willum had already explored their old haunts but wanted to revisit them with Minna, Sarah and Toby. “The barn first!” said Rosemary. “And last!” said Willum, “All the best things happen in the hayloft!” They laughed as they ran into the sunshine and over to the barn. A cat played there with her two six-month-old kittens. Willum said his father had given away the rest of the litter. They went up into the loft where Mr. Nye had already piled the first crop of hay. Toby took a flying leap into the middle of the pile and Willum followed. Sarah jumped right behind them. Minna jumped next—on top of Toby! They jumped. They made caves. They had a hay fight. Sarah got hay inside her

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clothes. It prickled and itched and the dust made her sneeze. She heard Toby sneeze too. They made tunnels. Sarah loved burrowing into the warm, sweet-smelling hay. They swung from the rope that hung from the cobwebbed rafters down to the stables. They went to the chicken run and counted the Rhode Island Reds. Rosemary and Sarah collected ten eggs from the chicken-house. The duck pond was next, with six ducks and seven geese. They threw breadcrumbs, taken from the kitchen, to the birds. They leaned over the five-barred gate to the Nyes’ Lower Field where the cows and their calves grazed with the two horses. Rosemary and Willum pointed out Bella and Blossom, the two oldest. They climbed over the gate to rub Bella’s nose. Sarah patted Blossom’s neck and back while Toby tried to get close to the calves. They ran away, not used to strangers. Suddenly Mr. Nye called from the farmhouse. Sarah quivered a little on hearing his voice. And remembered that Gran might be looking for them. Being with Rosemary, Willum, Minna and Toby, was so simple. They accepted her and didn’t call her clumsy. They offered a hand if she stumbled when the sun’s golden haze got in her eyes. Shadows lengthened and merged as they walked through the orchard. A murder of crows wheeled overhead and streamed off to their nests. Their raucous calls faded into the distance. Willum said it was time to bring the cows in for milking. He asked everyone to walk behind and help guide the cattle. The horses lifted their heads briefly, then continued to graze. Bessie led the other three milk-cows to their stalls. Willum closed the stanchions on each one to hold them in place. Mr. Nye waited there already, with hay piled in the mangers.

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Sarah, Toby and Rosemary followed and watched for a quiet minute. Then Toby wandered behind the mangers. Mr. Nye was a brooding darkness in the barn. Sarah went to pat the other cows, just to be further from him. She peered into the other stalls. A jumble of old crates, broken harness and a few broken tools filled one stall. She paused, interested by the muddle. A sudden chill made her shiver. The piled junk lost its solidity and became misty. The girl, the ghost-girl, crouched in the corner of the stall beside the manger. She looked over her shoulder at Sarah.

Chap ter Eight Sarah backed away, shaking and frightened. Mr. Nye looked up from milking Blossom. “Saw her, didn’t you?” Sarah glanced at him and ran out into the sunshine. Toby followed. “Look what I’ve found!” He waved a hockey stick in one hand. “It was behind the mangers!” Minna, who’d been talking to Rosemary, her back to the barn, turned quickly when Toby spoke. Her face was as white as the lace on her dress. “Oh.” Minna saw the hockey stick. “Oh! Is that all!” “Look at them, Sarah,” Toby shouted, “they aren’t much different! Ours have curved blades and these are straight, that’s all!” “Toby!” Sarah’s fear of the girl and Mr. Nye vanished. Instead, she worried that Toby would talk about hockey in their own time. It’d be impossible to explain. She wished Toby didn’t talk so much. Willum tossed a small green apple onto the ground. “Let’s play hockey! Lucky I picked these up in the orchard. And there’s enough sticks for everyone.” “Great!” said Toby. Sarah’s heart sank. She wished she weren’t so clumsy. Willum and Toby went into the barn and came out carrying three more hockey sticks. They each took one.

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Sarah looked at her hockey stick unhappily. The curve of the blade flowed down from the handle all in one piece. Toby was right—they really were like modern hockey sticks. “Pa found a couple of alders in the wood lot that were just right for hockey sticks!” Willum, standing beside Sarah, said, “He cut them and I rasped them! They’re pretty good, aren’t they?” Sarah agreed. Rosemary decided that the goal should be the rainwater butt at one end of the barn. Minna objected. She’d played hockey with Willum and Rosemary before and didn’t enjoy it. Sarah suspected Minna didn’t like any sports. Rosemary persuaded Minna to be goalie. Minna pouted but took the position. Willum and Rosemary agreed to play together against Sarah and Toby. Sarah hoped she wouldn’t fall too many times. Perhaps the stick would give her some stability. “It’s not really fair however we make the teams,” said Willum, “so let’s just have fun!” Rosemary and Toby faced off over the crude circle Willum had drawn in the dirt. Willum dropped the puck between them. “Game on!” he yelled as he backed away from the hacking sticks. Willum and Rosemary were soon carrying the play. Willum’s stick handling set up Rosemary for a shot at the goal. Toby flopped down on the puck, however, and Sarah took possession. She carried it to center where she passed to Toby, tripped on her stick and fell. She scrambled to her feet to see Toby rush between the defenders and charge the goal. He shot, and shouted “HA! Got it!” as the apple hit the rain-barrel behind Minna and exploded. “I wasn’t ready!” Minna wailed.

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“Never mind,” said Willum taking another apple out of his pocket, “you drop the puck this time for Sarah and me. Are you okay, Sarah?” Sarah nodded and the players continued to run and swing their sticks hard and fast, laughing and shouting. Minna made a save. Willum cheered. At least Minna played well. Sarah fell two or three times, tripping over her own or someone else’s stick. She hurt her shoulder in one fall but paid no attention beyond envying Rosemary’s agility as she jumped over Sarah. She and Toby played hard but scored no more goals. “It’s getting late,” said Minna, looking at the sky as Willum took a long shot at goal. Toby jumped to swipe at the puck in defense. He slipped, slid and banged his head on the side of the barn. “Toby!” Sarah yelled, “are you okay?” “Ouch!” He touched the top of his head gingerly. Sarah dropped her stick and ran to him. Toby sat up, looking pale. They gathered around him. Mr. Nye came out of the barn, pushed the children away and looked down at Toby. Sarah knew he’d come to find out what had hit the barn. “I’m okay,” Toby said. “You’re another, aren’t you?” said Mr. Nye. “What do you mean?” Sarah looked up at him. “We’ve got to get home,” said Minna, urgently. “He needs to lie down,” said Willum. “Of course he does,” Rosemary agreed. “We’ll take you home right away.” Minna spoke in a firm voice. “He can lie down here,” said Rosemary, “and go home later. It’s no trouble.” “No, we’ll take you home, Toby,” Minna repeated. Mr. Nye’s dark presence loomed beside Sarah. He watched Toby, listened and said nothing.

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Sarah wanted to get Toby away from Mr. Nye. She thought Minna was being unkind. Then she remembered Minna saying they mustn’t be out from the tree after dark in her time. “Don’t worry, we can get him home. There’s two of us to help him.” “Put your arm around my neck,” Willum said to Toby. “I’ll carry you part of the way—or all the way—up the field.” “I’m not that bad. I’ll be okay.” Toby straightened up. They walked the length of the barn to the gate to the Big Field. Mr. Nye came with them to the gate and, as they passed through, said to Sarah, “You saw her. What did she say?” She looked up quickly. “Nothing. She said nothing.” “She told you where it is, of course she did, she told you.” Mr. Nye whispered the words right into Sarah’s face. “And the boy—he’s one of Them, too, isn’t he?”

Chap ter Nine Sarah broke away and stumbled up the field as fast as she could. She wanted to be as far from Mr. Nye as possible. She forgot Minna and Toby. Forgot Willum and Rosemary. She feared Mr. Nye’s watchful eyes. She scrambled through the wooden fence, tumbled through the willow branches onto the ground, face-down, almost crying with relief. She took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself, then rolled onto her back. Just watching the gentle movement of the willow seemed to help. She sat up, wrapped her arms around her knees and chewed her thumbnail. “Why did you leave in such a hurry, Sarah?” Minna asked as she came into the willow-cave with Toby close behind her. “It was Mr. Nye—he scared me again!” “What do you mean? You’ve said that before,” Toby said. “He said I was ‘one of Them’ again. And Toby too. He seemed to know about the girl in the barn.” Minna clasped her hands together tightly as Sarah told about the corner of the barn and the ghost-girl. She seemed nervous. “We should ask Mr. Nye about the girl,” Toby said enthusiastically. “I’m not asking him anything!” Sarah replied. “He gives me the shivers.”

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“Maybe Gran knows something about him. She might, she’s pretty old.” Minna turned her head from one to the other as they spoke. “Oh Toby! Gran’s not that old,” Sarah said impatiently. “Derek or Mary might know though...” “Good idea,” said Toby. “We could say we want to see the kittens and ask then!” “Anyway, how are you feeling, Toby?” asked Sarah. “Sore! I landed on my shoulder and banged my head against the wall.” “You didn’t break anything?” Minna asked. “No. I’d really be hurting if I’d broken something.” “We’d better tell Gran you fell out of a tree,” said Sarah, “we can’t explain otherwise.” “It was a good hockey game, though.” Toby grinned. Minna uncurled her hands. “I was worried because if we stayed it might have been too late. We can’t be out from the tree in the dark. We have to have light always and it was getting late.” “I’d forgotten,” Toby muttered. He rubbed the back of his head. “If I’m caught in the dark, I can’t come back. Ever,” said Minna. “So I never forget.” “I’m hungry,” exclaimed Toby. “Then you must be all right,” said Sarah, laughing. “You’re always hungry, Toby.” Minna faded and vanished as she spoke. Toby got up and stretched. “Let’s go.” They went to the kitchen to find Gran chopping tomatoes for the pizza. “I fell out of a tree!” Toby announced proudly. He winked at Sarah. Gran dropped her knife. “Did you hurt yourself?” Sarah took another knife from the drawer and began to chop a green pepper.

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Toby told Gran about his “fall.” She fussed a little, then handed him a cheese-grater and went back to her chopping board. Sarah asked whether Gran had talked to Lissa Murray—and she had. Lissa would coach Sarah for an hour tomorrow. Wednesday. Sarah smiled with sheer happiness. Her dream would become a reality. Finally she’d become a good Scottish country dancer. “But first,” said Gran, “you must talk to your father. That’s a must!” Sarah dropped the knife and ran to the phone. It was almost six o’clock, so he should be home. He answered at the first ring and Sarah asked him about being coached. He said it was a good idea. “Lissa, the coach, said I could come tomorrow morning!” “Oh dear! That’s when Toby has an appointment with the dentist. I was thinking you could all come and have lunch at home with Mum.” “Oh no!” Sarah’s spirits plummeted. She turned to Gran. “Please couldn’t we change the time with Lissa? I want to see Mum too!” Gran took the phone from Sarah. “Lissa is leaving on Friday for Toronto,” she said to Dad. “It’s the only time she has.” She and Dad talked for a bit longer. Sarah spoke to Dad again and then to Mum. Mum said Calico slept on Sarah’s bed a lot but she hadn’t stopped eating and drinking. She wasn’t pining for Sarah. Sue had gone to computer camp and Mum hadn’t seen her. Toby took the phone and Gran turned to Sarah. “Dad says he’ll be bringing Mum up here on Friday evening after work. They’ll be here for dinner!” “That’s great!” “So—would you mind not coming down to see Mum tomorrow? That is, unless you’d rather skip the coaching?”

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Sarah considered. “I really, really would like to be coached. And, if Mum’s coming on Friday, that’s not too long before I’ll see her.” “Good. I’ll ask one of the Nyes to pick you up from Lissa’s as we won’t be back in time.” Toby put the phone down and asked immediately if they could go to the Nyes’ farm after dinner to see Molly’s kittens. Gran agreed and promptly phoned Mary “No problem, come over whenever you like. The kittens are in the feed room,” Mary said, “just watch Molly, she bites sometimes! Romey will be on her own tonight so you can help her with chores!” Sarah and Toby grinned at one another. Romey might know about the earlier Nye family and they could read the whole rhyme, too. They finished all the pizza for dinner. Sarah had wanted to keep one piece for breakfast but Toby ate it. Gran and Toby had bananas for dessert but Sarah was too full. They washed and put away the dishes in record time. Gran said she wanted to do some quilting and listen to the radio. Sarah and Toby left Mill House, cutting through the garden and down through the Big Field. “We should have brought Minna with us!” Toby said as they neared the barn. “It’s evening, Toby. Don’t you remember? Minna must always have light.” Sarah wished Toby would remember they couldn’t be in Minna’s time at night. And Minna couldn’t be without light at all. How could he forget something so important? “Anyway, she’d want to take a kitten with her!” Toby picked a blade of grass and fitted it between his thumbs. He began to blow on it as they went slowly down the field. Clouds scudded across the sky, piling into towering storm-centers. Wind tossed the trees and pulled at their clothes and hair. Romey was letting Bessie out of the stanchion as they entered the cowbarn.

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“Hi,” she said, “let her by, then you can see the kittens.” Bessie lumbered past to join her calf in the Lower Field. Romey followed to shut the gates, her jacket lifting to the wind. Sarah and Toby went behind the stalls to the feed room where Derek stored grain in metal garbage cans. In an ancient manger lined with a tattered blanket, Molly, a small gray and white cat, nursed her kittens. Sarah and Toby leaned on the edge of the manger, absorbed in the wonder. Molly purred blissfully, eyes half-shut. Romey came back into the barn and joined them. “They were born last week. See how their eyes are just beginning to open?” “Can we take one home with us when they’re big enough?” Sarah asked. Romey laughed. “I gather your Gran is going to have one. Maybe you’d better ask your parents first.” “We’ve already got one, we don’t need another,” Toby said. Sarah scratched Molly under one ear with a gentle finger. Molly blinked and purred loudly. “Does she really bite?” Toby asked. “When she’s had enough petting or visitors,” Romey picked up the bucket of milk to take back to the house. “Would you look after the chickens and ducks for me? Then come to the house.” Toby and Sarah stayed with Molly and the kittens until Molly bit Sarah. Then they left her and collected eggs and shut the chickens in for the night. They fed the geese and ducks while Romey cleaned the cowbarn. Toby tried to see how far the ducks could fly if he chased them but Romey saw and stopped him. When they were finished, Romey led the way to the kitchen where she found cookies and juice for Sarah and Toby and coffee for herself.

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“Romey,” Sarah said, helping herself to a cookie, “your Mum told us about a picture that rhymed. She said it was about the treasure your Dad found. May we see it?” “Sure, it’s in the sitting room. Why don’t you go and get it. We can look at it in here.” Sarah went to the sitting room at the end of a long, tiled hallway. The room felt cool and unused and smelled of lavender. The picture hung beside the door. She lifted it down carefully. She held it firmly and concentrated on walking steadily to the kitchen without bumping anything. She laid the oak-framed piece of linen on the kitchen table. They crowded around to look closely at the picture. Someone long ago had embroidered it with colored silks. The colors were long faded now. There was a border of twined leaves and small flowers. In the middle was the rhyme: One for the newborn, Two for my drinking, Three for the lovelorn, Four for my linking, Bring peace for the tree Of my family.

Chap ter Ten “I think it’s about the stuff Dad found under the barn floor.” Romey leaned against the table. “So the first line is the baby spoon, the second is the cup...” “And the third is the locket!” Sarah interrupted eagerly. “How do you know?” said Toby. “People used to put pictures of someone they loved in a locket and wear it, as they said, ‘close to their hearts,’ ” Romey explained. “Ugh!” Toby made a face. “That’s mushy.” Romey laughed. “There weren’t any digital cameras in those days, Toby.” “What do you think ‘the linking’ means?” Sarah asked. “I don’t know. I can’t even guess,” Romey answered. “Can we have another look at the cup and things?” Sarah asked. Romey brought them out of the drawer and put them on the table beside the picture. Sarah touched the spoon with one finger, afraid to pick it up in case she saw the ghost-girl again. Instead she bent to peer at the engraving on the handle. The same spiky leaves were embroidered around the picture! She pointed this out to Toby and Romey. Romey picked up the cup. “It looks like the same thing here on the cup, with a rose or maybe initials. It’s all curlicues and hard to figure out.”

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Toby swung the locket by its chain. “ ‘The linking’ could be the chain for the locket.” “I thought of that, too,” said Romey, “but it doesn’t sound right. I think it’s something separate.” “Is there a story to these?” Sarah wondered. “We think that my great-great-great-(or however many greats) grandparents brought them from England about 1850. The story is that my however-many-greats-grandfather wanted to sell some of their jewelry because they’d run out of money. But his daughter hid them because she didn’t want them sold.” “And you think this is them?” asked Sarah, astonished. “Yes, we do.” Romey put down the cup and took the locket from Toby. “You can see they are old—the engraving is all worn. The silver is heavy too, particularly the cup.” Sarah picked up the cup. It did seem heavy and thick for its size. She examined the pattern on the outside, then peered in. The ghost-girl looked back at her through a haze. Sarah stared, fascinated. The face appeared oddly familiar. She’d seen the girl twice before but now she sensed something more. She forced herself to take careful notice of the girl’s appearance. She looked up, straight at Romey. Romey resembled the ghost-girl! She had the same thin mouth and dark eyes. The same dark hair, though Romey wore hers short and the ghost-girl’s was long. Sarah put the cup down nervously. “Didn’t your whatever-greats- grandmother ever tell anyone where she’d hidden the treasure?” She didn’t want to tell Romey what she’d seen but she’d tell Toby later. “No. And she was an ancestral aunt, not grandmother. She died young, drowned, and never told anyone at all. The story is that she feared the things would be sold. The family was always poor. It’s been a mystery ever since.” “What was her name?” Sarah asked.

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“Beth or Elizabeth,” Romey answered. “She had a twin brother, Albert. An older sister too, I think.” “Where did the picture come from?” Toby ate the last cookie. “They brought it with them from England.” Romey finished her coffee and began to clear the dishes to the dishwasher. “Can I copy the rhyme?” Sarah asked. Romey found a pencil and paper on the dresser and Sarah copied the lines. Sarah and Toby left soon afterward, having thanked Romey for letting them see Molly and the kittens and for the cookies. They talked about the rhyme and the jewelry as they walked up the field under a gray and ominous sky. The wind pushed against their backs and they leaned back on it. Sarah told Toby about the ghost-girl in the cup. “I wish I could have seen her too,” Toby said. “You were too busy eating!” “I think Romey’s right about the locket being the third thing in the rhyme.” “I think so too. But I can’t think what the last two lines mean.” “Me neither.” As they went into Mill House they could hear classical music. Sarah liked the sound. They found Gran quilting in the sitting room. “Listen to what we discovered!” Sarah told Gran the story of Beth and the jewelry with frequent interruptions from Toby. Gran listened attentively. They talked about the “linking” and what it could mean but Gran had no suggestions. Sarah didn’t mention the ghost-girl. “What’s that music, Gran?” Sarah asked. “Finlandia by Sibelius. Do you like it?” Sarah nodded.

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Gran went to make herself a cup of tea. As she left the room, Toby said, “I wonder if Minna knows anything?” Sarah threw a cushion at him. “Ask her tomorrow and...” She checked that Gran couldn’t hear her. “Just don’t talk about Minna when Gran’s around. And I think the ghost-girl comes back because something is missing. I’m sure she wants us to find it!”

Chap ter Eleven The wind woke Sarah the next morning. She jumped out of bed and ran to the window. Heavy rain lashed the garden and blurred the landscape. Today she’d have her special lesson in Scottish country dancing! She checked the clock. It was only eight o’clock—two hours before she’d see Lissa. The wind and rain had wakened Gran and Toby as well. They all met in the kitchen for an early breakfast. Gran made porridge in a heavy iron saucepan. “A real rib-sticker is what we need for such a cold day. Porridge keeps you warm!” “Why?” asked Sarah. “Because it’s hot and makes you feel warm inside and out!” Gran ladled porridge into Sarah’s bowl as she spoke. Sarah liked the porridge Mum made but decided she didn’t like the way Gran made it. No raisins. Her tummy felt jumpy and the porridge landed in it like a big lump. She decided to think of something else and remembered yesterday and Mr. Nye. “Gran, did you know the Nyes when you were young?” There were so many things she wanted to know. But she mustn’t mention Minna—or traveling in time. “Of course.” Gran poured milk on her own porridge. “There have been Nyes here for more than a hundred years.” “Who lived there when you were young?” Toby asked.

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“Mr. and Mrs. Nye and their son. He married when I was about twelve.” Gran paused to eat. “I looked after the children sometimes. Derek was the eldest of the six.” Sarah gave Toby a warning look. “What was Mr. Nye’s name, I mean his first name?” She spooned up the last of the sugary milk in her bowl. “That was George.” Gran sipped her coffee and stared out at the rain. Then she shrugged her shoulders. “Does this have something to do with the jewelry, Sarah?” “I don’t know, Gran. I just wondered, that’s all.” Sarah began to pile her dishes together. Gran drank her coffee. She asked Sarah and Toby to help her tidy the garden. The wind had blown newspaper everywhere. Afterward, Sarah fidgeted around the house. She wanted the time pass quickly until her hour with Lissa, but it dragged. At last, Gran said it was time to leave. The windshield wipers plunked back and forth as Gran drove down the highway to Lissa’s home near Elk Lake. Sarah used their monotonous rhythm to go over a Scottish country dance formation in her mind. She remembered Minna’s shoemaker as they passed a mall. “Are the streets the same in Victoria now as they used to be? Are the numbers the same, too?” She twisted in her seat to look at a willow tree. “What a question, Sarah!” Gran negotiated cautiously around a stationery bus. “The streets are the same, I’m sure. But the street numbers changed. I remember Mama saying how confusing it’d been when she looked for a bakery she used to go to! Why such questions?” “I was thinking about things that might change in a city. And I sort-of wondered about the street numbers and things.” Sarah tried to sound vague. Things had changed a lot since Minna lived here. Gran turned off the Highway and drove to Bear Hill. She found Lissa’s house, parked her Toyota in the driveway and got out of the car.

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Sarah, suddenly nervous, followed her to the front door. Gran rang the bell and a short, brown-haired woman opened the door. “Lissa!” said Gran. “This is very kind of you.” Lissa smiled down at Sarah. “If I can help an enthusiast, I will.” Gran half-turned away. “I must rush, Lissa, Toby has a dentist’s appointment and traffic is heavy.” “The weather isn’t a help.” “No. Sarah, I’ll see you later. Enjoy yourself!” Gran hurried to the car. Sarah waved goodbye. Toby waved back. Lissa drew her into the house and led the way downstairs. “My dance room is in the basement. In fact, it is the basement!” Sarah paused at the foot of the stairs. The basement seemed huge! The hardwood floor extended from wall to wall. Two parallel dark lines ran the length of the room. An end wall had a sophisticated sound system. A large pink chesterfield stood against another wall. “It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?” Lissa went to the stereo and chose a tape. “We’re going to have to manage with just us two.” “That’s okay.” Sarah marveled at the sound system. “Your grandmother told me you want some help. But not what the difficulty is.” Sarah didn’t want to tell her. She hung her head, embarrassed. “I’m clumsy.” “Oh.” Lissa pulled out the tape she’d chosen and slotted in another. “Do you know The Dhoon?” Sarah nodded. Her tummy seemed to have twisted into a knot. “We’ll just walk through the formations together without music. That way we’ll both understand what we’re doing.”

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Sarah soon found herself at ease with Lissa. They slowly walked through a couple of formations. It was odd doing these with just two people but Lissa made it seem simple. Then Lissa turned the music on. “We’ll dance just the first sixteen bars as they can be danced with only two people.” They went through the beginning of The Dhoon to the tune of Creag Mhor. Sarah missed a couple of slip steps and blundered into Lissa during a turn. Lissa moved easily and lightly. “We’ll dance that again and add another eight bars.” This time Sarah muddled a change of hands and tripped during a skip-change of step. They went over the jig again. Then Lissa switched to The Highland Fair with the tune Muirland Willie. Sarah wished she could dance like Lissa. Sarah concentrated but still stumbled over another skip-change of step. They did it again. Sarah made a couple of mistakes. Lissa stopped the music. “Why is it so important for you to do Scottish country dancing?” She spoke gently and kindly. “Gran used to teach it.” “That’s how we met.” “And Dad won cups and prizes for Highland dancing.” Sarah felt tears prickling. Lissa took Sarah’s hand and led her to the chesterfield. She sat down, held Sarah’s hands and looked up at her. “Sarah, there are other ways of being a success.” “But Dad...” “You can be a star at something else!” A tear trickled down Sarah’s cheek. “You are yourself—and that may mean that you aren’t a dancer.” Sarah sobbed and gulped. Lissa pulled some tissues from her pocket. Sarah blew her nose and wiped her cheeks. Then Lissa stood up and turned the tape on again. “Let’s sing this together!”

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Sarah sniffed and sang a couple of bars—off-key. “Umm. Let’s try again.” Sarah blew her nose, cleared her throat and sang. Lissa wasn’t quite in tune but her rhythm was perfect. The doorbell rang. The hour had slipped away quickly and Mary had come to pick her up. Lissa went upstairs. Sarah followed slowly. Her dreams crumbled further with each step. She found Lissa and Mary talking quietly at the front door. Lissa suggested they stay for coffee and muffins but Mary had to pick up Romey from a baby-sitting job in Saanichton. “She didn’t want to bike in this rain!” Mary said with a laugh. “I don’t blame her,” Lissa said, “it really is coming down hard.” Lissa gave Sarah her jacket. Mary took Sarah’s hand. “We’d better get going, Sarah.” “Thank you, Lissa,” Sarah mumbled. She felt ashamed, embarrassed and miserable. She kept her head down.

Chap ter Twelve Sa rah pulled her jacket over her head, and ran to Mary’s blue Honda. She climbed in quickly. Mary got in and turned the ignition on. “Not a good morning?” Sarah shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. Mary patted her knee, reached over and pulled a box of tissues from the glove compartment. Sarah cried quietly. Finally, she blew her nose and stared through the windshield, seeing nothing. “I looked at the picture again, Sarah.” Mary drove fast, nipping in and out of traffic. “The flowers in the border are herbs!” “Is that special?” “Some herbs have particular meanings.” “What do you mean?” “The herb rosemary means remembrance.” “Rosemary!” Sarah exclaimed. “Yes. ‘Romey’ is short for ‘Rosemary.’ It’s an old family name.” “Do families do lots of things to remember?” “Yes, they do. And I’m sure you know that roses mean love?” “I know that one. But it’s not a herb.” “No, but many flowers have special meanings.” “How do you know this?” “I’ll show you the books when we get to the farm.”

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Talking with Mary helped Sarah think of something other than her failure as a dancer. But misery stayed heavy within her. She twisted her hands around the seat belt. They picked up Romey in Saanichton and went to the farm. Mary parked the car in the old stable and they ran to the house to escape the rain. Mary brought out bagels and cheese, made a pot of tea and filled mugs for each of them. Sarah half-listened to the conversation as Leah came in and told her morning experiences. Sarah didn’t want to talk about her morning. She ate very little but drank the sweet, milky tea. Her tummy felt small and tight. Mary glanced at her a few times and smiled kindly. “Come and look at the picture,” she said, going to the book-strewn end of the table. Sarah and Romey joined her. Mary pulled the picture closer. “See the spiky leaves—a sprig on each side in the border?” Mary touched the glass four times. “Now look at the picture of rosemary in the book.” Sarah compared the embroidery and the photograph. She saw the same narrow dark leaves and tiny blue flowers. “Those are roses in the corners!” Romey said. “Yes, and I think the pink flowers are borage, which means courage.” Mary found another photo in the book and they compared again. Mary and Sarah sat by the table, pouring over the books. They found no other flowers in the books to match the ones in the embroidered picture. Sarah liked turning the pages, discovering the meaning of flowers. Derek came in, soaking wet. He’d been helping a friend build a barn. Then Gran and Toby arrived. Toby smiled and announced that he had no cavities! “How’s Mum?” Sarah asked. “She’s fine!” Toby said. “How’s Calico?” “She’s fine, too. How was your lesson?”

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Sarah couldn’t answer. Toby’s exuberance hurt too much. Anger and envy boiled inside her. Nothing bad ever happened to Toby! She ran out of the kitchen, and across to the barn. She couldn’t bear to cry in front of everyone. She leaned against the wall and cried until she could cry no more. The tissues Lissa and Mary had given her dissolved into one sodden lump. She stuffed it into her pocket when Gran called. Peering through thin rain, Sarah saw Gran wave to her as she climbed into the Toyota. Sarah joined them. Toby jumped up and down in the back seat. Gran gave Sarah her jacket and touched her cheek gently. “Very bad morning for you?” Sarah sniffed. “Poor Sarah.” Gran started the car and turned the windshield wipers on. “It’s been a long day for us all. At least it isn’t raining much anymore.” “It’s going to stop soon,” Toby said decisively. The clouds were beginning to break up. Tiny patches of blue sky shone through. Gran even stopped the wipers before they reached Mill House. Gran made a simple dinner. Sarah still didn’t feel hungry. Afterward, Gran moved to the sitting room to listen to a political discussion and do some quilting. Suddenly Sarah wanted to go to Minna’s time, to the Nyes’ farm of a hundred years ago. No one expected anything of her there. She kicked Toby under the table. “I’m going into the garden for a bit.” She and Toby put on jackets and boots and went outside. Wind gusted through the trees. The late sun glinted on raindrops in the hearts of roses and on wet leaves. Even the grass sparkled. Sarah hoped desperately that Minna would come. “We must ask Minna about Mr. Nye,” Sarah said as they went in under the tree. Sarah’s spirits lifted as she saw Minna leaning against the tree. Toby told Minna proudly that he had no cavities.

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Minna couldn’t understand that Toby hadn’t gone to the dentist to have a tooth pulled out. Sarah tried to explain about dental hygiene. The idea confused Minna. She could only tell them how her Papa had a tooth pulled the previous year. It had been very painful. “Papa has been told about Painless Parker. He can take a tooth out without hurting. Papa wishes he’d known about him before.” Minna straightened the ribbon on one of her braids. “Dental hygiene sounds very uncomfortable!” Sarah and Toby laughed. A chilly wind blew through the branches. Sarah pulled her jacket close around her. “Can you tell us about the Nyes, Minna?” “What do you mean?” “When did they come to the farm?” Toby asked. “Years ago!” “What about Mr. Nye? When did he come here?” Sarah asked. “When he was a boy,” Minna said. “What’s his name?” Toby’s voice sang with excitement. “Mr. Nye, of course!” “I mean his first name,” Toby insisted. “Bert,” said Minna. Sarah heaved a sigh of relief. Toby grinned and hit the ground with one hand. “Yowee!” “That’s why he knew about the ghost-girl,” said Sarah. “What do you mean?” asked Minna. “The ghost-girl must be his twin sister!” Toby said. “We found out about them yesterday. They brought jewelry and stuff from England. Their father wanted to sell it. She buried it so it wouldn’t be sold!” Minna stared at Toby. She turned to Sarah with a white and strained face. “Do you know something about this?” Sarah asked quickly. “No. Nothing at all.”

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“What’s the matter?” “I don’t know anything about it.” “You mean you never heard about the cup, the spoon and the locket?” Sarah asked. Minna vanished.

Chap ter Thir teen “She knows something!” Toby exclaimed. “And she doesn’t want to tell. You remember yesterday when we talked about the ghost girl? Minna just sat there.” “She disappeared in a hurry, that’s for sure.” “Do you think we can get her to tell what she knows?” Sarah pulled a branch toward her and began to strip its leaves. “Maybe as long as we don’t push too hard. Let’s hope she comes back tomorrow.” Sarah stood up. “Let’s think about the fourth thing anyway.” “Maybe that’s what Minna knows about.” “And I wanted to see Rosemary and Willum tonight.” Sarah slipped on the wet ground as she went out between the swaying branches. Mud smeared her hands, jacket and jeans. She remembered the morning again and choked on tears. Toby ran ahead. He didn’t seem to care about her feelings at all. She got up slowly, rubbing one muddy hand across her face. She wanted so badly to escape to the Nyes’ farm, to forget about this morning. She decided to think about Minna, not about Scottish country dancing. What could Minna not want to tell them? She wondered about it as she had a shower then went to bed.

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She dreamed she and Minna danced The Highland Fling over a huge cobweb. Minna waved a silver spoon. Mr. Nye stood beside them and called, “You’re one of Them! Look for her! Look for her!” Willow leaves blew about their heads. Sunlight and sparrow-song woke Sarah from a restless sleep. The dream lingered as she dressed. She wondered if Minna knew something about the treasure. Gran decided to weed in the garden after breakfast. The sun shone and small white clouds scuttled across the clean blue sky. Swallows darted and flicked over the garage. A light wind rippled the leaves. Sarah and Toby ran for the willow tree. “Let’s hope Minna comes,” Sarah said. She slipped on the wet grass without falling. “But let’s not mention last night or the ghost-girl.” “Bet she doesn’t say anything about them anyway,” said Toby. Minna was sitting under the tree, playing with one of her braids. She rolled it between her hands and watched the ribbon twirl at the end. “I want to know about Victoria,” she said when she saw Sarah and Toby. “If my shoemaker isn’t there anymore, where is he?” “I don’t know,” Sarah said. “Lots of things have changed since then.” Sarah felt a sudden urge to shake Minna, to make her tell whatever she knew. Minna retied the ribbon on her other braid. “Do you live near the train station?” “No, quite a way from there, on Merriman Drive.” Sarah sat down impatiently. “Have you always lived here, Minna? I mean have you ever been away anywhere?” “We go to Victoria sometimes on the train.” “On the train?” exclaimed Toby. “On the Cordwood Limited! We stay overnight with my cousins. The last time we went I wore my blue velvet pelisse.” Minna sounded proud. “What’s the Cordwood Limited?”

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“It’s the ‘Victoria and Sidney Railway.’ It burns a lot of cordwood and is never on time,” Minna explained. “It has swinging lamps and plush-covered seats.” The elegance of the Cordwood Limited didn’t interest Sarah. “Let’s go to the Nyes’ and see what they are doing,” she urged, scrambling to her feet. They climbed through the branches and the fence. Somber clouds massed above them as they hurried down the field to the farm. A strangely lurid light touched the landscape with a metallic gleam. A far-off roll of thunder broke the stillness. They found Mr. Nye, Willum and Rosemary in the farmhouse kitchen, piling dinner dishes in the big sink. Sarah felt quite at home as they all helped wash, dry and put things away. Afterward, Sarah, Minna and Rosemary sat and talked about George Macdonald’s books. Willum brought a piece of harness to the table to clean. Toby joined him. Mr. Nye sat in a chair by the fireplace with a newspaper. He appeared to read but Sarah felt his eyes on her back. Rosemary wanted to show one of George Macdonald’s books to Sarah so they went upstairs to Rosemary’s bedroom. Minna stayed downstairs to talk to Willum. A small contentment filled Sarah. Here she could ignore the unhappiness of yesterday. For the moment. Rosemary’s room was small with a single bed covered with a daisy pattern quilt. There was a rag rug on the floor, a pine chest-of-drawers, an old trunk and two saddleback chairs. “I’m sure At the Back of the North Wind is on the bookshelf. It always used to be.” Rosemary went to the shelf of books on the chest-of-drawers. She passed a book to Sarah. Sarah sat on the window ledge, her back against the drawn curtains and closed window. She flipped pages to a passage she liked and read it to Rosemary. They sat and talked. Sarah mentioned the Narnia books once but glossed over her mistake by saying the books were hard to find.

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Mr. Nye called Rosemary and she went downstairs. Sarah moved to a chair. A lighted candle in a brass holder stood on top of the chest-of-drawers beside her. Suddenly Sarah realized that she couldn’t read easily even with the candle. Wind buffeted the house. She ran to the open door and called, “Rosemary, I must go.” Rosemary appeared at the foot of the stairs, holding another candle in her hand. “You can always come back tomorrow.” “Of course. I must go now, or it will be too late!” “What a funny thing to say!” “Never mind, it’s just that I must go before it gets dark.” “It’s dark already, or almost dark—there’s a storm,” said Rosemary. Sarah couldn’t see to go downstairs without the candle so she turned back and picked it up. She went down the stairs too quickly and stumbled as she entered the kitchen. She dropped the candle and it went out. Mr. Nye still sat in front of the fire with the paper. Willum stitched a piece of harness at the table. “Where are Toby and Minna?” Sarah asked. “They went home,” Willum said. “They went home?” Sarah cried. “They couldn’t have.” “They left before it got dark,” Mr. Nye explained. He watched Sarah over the top of his glasses. Sarah knew she couldn’t, mustn’t, go out into the dark without a light. She didn’t know what would happen if she did but Minna had been adamant. Thundered rolled outside and she remembered the wind. She was afraid. She looked around at the drawn curtains, the candlesticks beside Mr. Nye and on the table beside Willum. Panic built inside her. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t tell them she came from the future, that she didn’t belong. “I can’t go outside,” Sarah repeated, “I just can’t.”

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Mr. Nye put his paper on one side and stood up. “You’d better stay the night.” He smiled bleakly. “You can sleep in the back bedroom.” “Oh Pa, not that room!” Rosemary exclaimed. “There’s no other, child,” he answered gruffly. Rosemary looked worried. “She’ll be all right!” He asked Rosemary to make sure there was a blanket and quilt on the bed Rosemary led the way up the stairs. Sarah carried the candle. She clung to the idea of light. She asked Rosemary if she could have a candle all night. “There are some night-lights in the linen cupboard. I’ll get a couple for you,” Rosemary said as she went into the room beyond her own. It was smaller than Rosemary’s: it held a bed, a chair, a small chest and a couple of piled boxes. “I know there’s a blanket and pillows under the quilt.” Sarah put the candle on a small table beside the head of the bed. Rosemary went to find night-lights. Sarah stood in the middle of the room and shivered. The room closed around her. She touched one of the piled boxes. It left dust on her fingers. The candle wavered and threw a long flame upward as Rosemary returned. She carried a couple of chipped saucers with four fat night-lights balanced on them. “Here you are. They burn for about four hours each. And you can have one of my nightdresses if you like.” “I’ll be okay. I’ve slept in my underwear before.” Rosemary drew the curtains across the small closed window, said goodnight and left the room. Sarah lit one of the night-lights from the candle. She wanted more light and the night-lights would last all night. A clock struck ten somewhere in the house. Why hadn’t Minna and Toby waited? Or at least told her it was time to go? What did Rosemary mean by “that room”? Questions drummed in Sarah’s head as she climbed into bed. There were no sheets.

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Being left behind frightened Sarah. Mr. Nye scared her. She must stay in the light all through the dark of night. She seemed to hear Lissa’s words “you aren’t a dancer” over and over again. Fear, disappointment and confusion spun within her. She pulled the quilt high about her shoulders and the pillow down behind her head. She peered at the night-light’s flame against the dark. She watched it flicker.

Chap ter Four teen Shadows moved be hind the flame. Was it the flame’s shiv ering that made shapes come and go? Sarah stared at it. A barefoot child skipped through the flame. He wore breeches and a leather jerkin and carried bagpipes in one hand. He turned on the other side of the flame and beckoned to Sarah. He then faded away. A lady walked in—a lady with ringlets, a long slim dress with sleeves puffed over her shoulders, and a gleam of silver at her neck. She laughed over her shoulder to a young man in a long cloak and short-crowned hat. Sarah cried out. He looked like Willum. The young man turned and looked at her. He was older than Willum. The flame flared and sank. Sarah shivered with fear. She leaned over and, with a shaking hand, lit another night-light from the first before it went out. The light was tiny as it caught on the wick. Lightning flashed beyond the window. Thunder crashed overhead. Her hand gleamed around the wax of the night-light. She pinched herself to make sure she was real. It hurt. Wind howled outside. Sarah lit a second night-light and balanced it on a box on the other side of the bed. She snuggled back under the bedclothes, sure she could always watch a flame. The strangers who came and went in the little room frightened her. She knew she must have light. The barefoot boy stood behind the flame. He played the

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bagpipes. The tune sounded as faint as an indrawn breath. It sighed in the distance, far away. Yet it called Sarah, sang to her, a familiar tune she couldn’t name. He vanished. Other shapes and shadows drifted behind and through the flame. Some she recognized as adults or children. One was a girl her own age, wearing a long dress, a glint of silver on her wrist. Others were like clouds blowing across a stormy sky. The bagpiper came back, just behind the flame. He played for her. The music skirted just on the edge of hearing. Sarah’s fingers danced on the sheet. She wanted to play the tune with the boy. He vanished again. Was it all a dream? Were they dream-people? Sarah didn’t know. She kept her eyes on the flame, the light that kept her safe, knowing it kept the shadows from coming too close. Rain drummed on the window. She heard trees bend and shriek in the tearing wind. And the people kept coming. She saw a small girl sitting on a stool with a ball in her hands, a silver cup at her feet. The shapes shifted and blurred, formed and disappeared. The bagpiper returned. He stood in the flame itself, his features clearly visible. He looked like Romey with his dark eyes, dark hair and short straight nose. The music drifted, light as smoke. The melody sang in her mind. He took the pipes from his mouth. “Come with me, come and play with me.” “No... No...” “Come and play, Sarah.” “No!” she shouted. “Toby, Toby, where are you?” The boy vanished and the gray light of dawn filled the room. Sarah jumped out of bed, went to the window and stood shivering in the chilly air. Had she slept? Where was Minna? Why did the bagpiper want her to play with him? How could she play with him? She lived in another time.

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The bagpipes. The idea of them, a picture of them, stayed with her. The melody the boy played lingered and sang within her. She wished she could play the tune. Perhaps she’d try on Gran’s piano. She knew she had to get back to Gran’s house. “Minna, Toby, please come,” she whispered. She looked at her watch—it was quarter to six. She felt hungry, lonely and afraid. How would she get back to Gran and Toby? The night-lights, still burning, shone as dim sparks against the growing light in the room. She blew out the one nearest her, then lay across the bed to blow out the one nearest the door. She heard a knock. Rosemary came in wearing a long, flowered flannel nightgown. “I heard you call out so I came. I have nightmares sometimes—it’s scary to be by yourself. I woke up because I had one too.” She spoke all in one breath. “I want to go home.” Sarah pulled her fingers through her hair. “Did you sleep well?” Rosemary asked. “I had strange dreams.” “Come and have something to eat,” Rosemary suggested. “Pa is up and Willum is doing chores.” “I’m going home!” She picked up her shoes and followed Rosemary out of the room. The stairs loomed dark ahead. She turned back and took the remaining night-light. As she went into the kitchen, Mr. Nye put a big black kettle on the wood stove. He turned on hearing them come in. His back was to the window and the misty gray sky beyond. “Did you sleep well, Sarah?” “No.” She put the candle on the table, slid her feet into her shoes and bent to do up the laces. “Rosemary, go and get dressed.” Mr. Nye looked at Sarah sideways as Rosemary left the room. “Did the people come?”

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Anger and fear exploded in Sarah. She stood up. “Yes, I saw people all night. And you know about them. And who are they? You knew I would see them. Why did you let me sleep in there?” He sat down abruptly. “Here, sit down. I don’t think you are who I think you are. Who are you?” “I’m from another time.” “You’re not a ghost? Not one of my forerunners?” “No. No, I’m not. I’m from the future.” Sarah pulled out a chair and sat down slowly. She felt like one of Toby’s butterflies, stuck on the pin of Mr. Nye’s eyes. “Who are the people I saw?” Sarah gripped the edge of the chair with both hands. “They’re my ancestors, the people who came before us. The boy is my father.” “He played the bagpipes?” “He played at all our festivals.” Sarah opened her mouth but no words came. “I thought you were one of them, with your strange clothes. And your brother. And I know you saw her, you saw Beth, my sister, in the barn.” Tears formed in his eyes as he said his sister’s name. Sarah gulped. “Yes, I saw her. I saw her in the barn,” she whispered. Mr. Nye’s head was bent. “She died when we were twelve, just three years here... I had to grow up without her.” Sarah felt frozen to the chair. “She buried the cup, the spoon, the locket and the bracelet.” Sarah’s heart beat rapidly. The fourth line! A bracelet! Mr. Nye continued, “She didn’t tell me where they were, wouldn’t trust me. Me, her twin!” He looked across at Sarah. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “We’ll not be at peace until they’re found. It’s you—the strange one—you must be the finder. But don’t keep them.”

Chap ter Fif teen “I’ll find them.” “That sounds like a promise,” They both stood up. “I think it is, Mr. Nye. I’m glad you told me about Beth.” “Scared you, didn’t I, sometimes? Well, you worried me.” Sarah went to the back door and then turned back. “Just one thing I want to know... Why did they come? The dream-people, I mean?” “They come to tell us things.” Mr. Nye came to open the door for her. “There are things they want us to know.” He smiled down at Sarah in a friendly way. She smiled back, went out the kitchen door and across the yard without seeing Willum. She ran up the field to the wooden fence, climbed through and brushed aside the willow branches. The wind whispered amongst the leaves but no one waited there. She heard Gran calling. Sarah went into the garden. “Hi, Gran.” “I thought we’d have something to eat.” “Where’s Toby?” “In the kitchen, making himself lunch.” Sarah almost said, “What about breakfast?” Surely it was Friday now? She’d spent the night at the Nyes’ farm. Yet it must still be Thursday morning here. Whatever hours had gone in Minna’s time, she hadn’t spent a night away from Mill House in today’s time. No one had worried about her.

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Sarah hurried to the kitchen. Anger bubbled within her. Why did Toby and Minna leave without her? She started to speak fiercely but Gran followed close behind her. Toby gave her a quick, anxious look and took his lunch outside. Sarah quickly made a peanut butter and tomato sandwich and put it on a paper napkin. She picked up an apple and followed Toby around the house to the front step. Toby spoke with his mouthful. “We shouldn’t have left you, I know.” “I’d like to hit you!” “Minna got all worried and insisted on leaving.” “You could have called me!” “She kept saying she mustn’t be out in the dark. She said she’d never be able to get back.” “Why didn’t Minna call me?” “I don’t know. I guess she was just too worried.” Sarah took a bite of her sandwich. There didn’t seem any point in continuing the discussion. “Never mind, I came back. But I’ll never forgive you! Ever!” “I caught five more butterflies, all different,” Toby said. “I’ll give you one if you’d like?” Butterflies didn’t interest Sarah. Last night, her dreams, her talk with Mr. Nye preoccupied her entirely. “I didn’t know if I’d be able to come back without you and Minna.” “How did you do it?” Toby bit into his apple. “I had night-lights all night!” Sarah told Toby about her nightmares. “It’s really strange to be back here on Thursday when I spent the night at the farm.” “Time really does speed up when you’re in another time.” Sarah began to eat her apple. “Yes, and Mr. Nye misses his sister badly. And his father played the bagpipes.” Played. That word again. She paused before taking another bite. She could hear the boy saying, “Come and play with me.” Did he mean play the bagpipes? She leapt to her feet, stumbled and grabbed Toby’s hair to keep herself from falling. “Toby, I can learn to play the bagpipes! That’s what I’ll do!”

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Excitement exploded in her. Her paper napkin blew away and she ran to catch it before it went over the fence. It caught against an apple tree and she pushed it into her pocket. “That’s what I’ll do! No more dancing lessons! I’ll play the bagpipes.” She twirled around on the grass, then tripped and fell. She rolled over and looked up at the shining sky. The wind blew musically. The birds sang their own chords. She laughed as she scrambled to her feet and ran around to the back door. “Gran, Gran, I’ll learn to play the bagpipes!” She burst into the kitchen. Gran looked up from the newspaper. “That’s a good idea!” “It’s the best idea I’ve ever had!” Gran nodded. “And you’ll get one of Molly’s kittens!” Sarah felt lit up by the thought of music. She stretched her fingers and hummed. “You think I need a cat, Sarah?” “Yes, they are so cuddly.” Gran smiled. “And so good at unraveling balls of wool when you are knitting!” Sarah laughed. Gran said she’d work in the garden again that afternoon. Sarah left her and found Toby burying his apple core in an ant’s nest. “Let’s go and find Minna,” she said. Minna sat, leaning against the tree-trunk as usual. She looked relieved when she saw Sarah. “Minna!” exclaimed Sarah. “Why did you leave me?” “I had to go, otherwise I could never have gone back at all.” Sarah and Toby sat on the hard-packed ground. “What about me? It was really bad.” Sarah told Minna what had happened at the Nyes’ during the night. “I couldn’t stay or I’d have disappeared forever.” Sarah stopped. “I know—but still...” She bit her thumb. “Well, I did find out about Mr. Nye. He thought I was one of his ancestors.”

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Toby laughed. “You? Somebody’s ancestor!” He laughed and rolled over on the ground. Minna sat still, her back straight. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her head down. Sarah leaned over and punched Toby’s shoulder, “He thought our clothes were weird so we must be ghosts!” Toby continued to chuckle quietly until Sarah said, “But—he told me about the jewelry. It is family stuff and the fourth thing is a bracelet!” Toby sat up. Sarah noticed that Minna’s face was pale. “We’ll have to find it!” Toby said. “They must have searched the house, so I don’t know where we can begin,” said Sarah. “And Derek would have found it when he did the barn floor if it’d been there,” Toby added. “Where shall we start?” Sarah wondered. “It’s here, under the tree...” Minna spoke in a very small voice. “Here?” “How do you know?” asked Toby. Tears poured down Minna’s cheeks. She twisted her hands. Sarah and Toby looked at each other. What had happened? Why was Minna so upset? “What’s the matter, Minna?” Sarah moved close to her, reaching out and touching her. She mouthed “Don’t move!” at Toby. Tears still streamed down Minna’s face. “I stole it...” Sarah sat back. “You found it and stole it?” “Yes,” Minna whispered, “we were playing hide and seek. I hid in the barn and they didn’t find me. I found all the things.” “Where’s the bracelet?” Sarah asked. “I buried it.” Minna pulled a handkerchief from the pocket in her dress and blew her nose. “Why did you take it?”

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“I thought it was beautiful. I wanted to wear it. Then I thought I’d give it to Elspeth.” Minna looked down at her hands. She twisted the handkerchief into a rope. “Who’s Elspeth?” asked Toby. “My sister.” “Where’s the bracelet?” Sarah asked again.

Chap ter Six teen Minna pointed at the ground between her feet. “Here.” “You mean, you sit beside it all the time?” Toby asked, wonderingly. “I protect it.” Minna wiped her cheeks. Sarah didn’t listen to Minna’s answer. “We’ve got to give it back. Minna, you stay here. We’ll go and get a fork or something to dig it up with.” “I have to protect it,” Minna repeated. “You go for the fork,” Sarah said to Toby as they emerged from the shade. “I’ll ask Gran who Elspeth is.” “Was. She can’t be alive now.” He disappeared at a run around the side of the house. Gran straightened up from weeding beside the lawn. The brim of her wide straw hat lifted in the breeze. “Gran,” said Sarah as she approached her, “do you know anyone called Elspeth—it’s such a funny name!” “It was my mother’s name.” “I’m sorry, Gran.” Sarah flushed with embarrassment. “But you know what I mean?” Gran smiled. “It’s old-fashioned, isn’t it? I’ve some photos of her as a child that I could show you.” “I’d love to see them.” Toby cut through the garden with a hand fork in one hand and a trowel in the other. He waved the trowel. “Come on, Sarah.”

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She beckoned him to join her but he waved the trowel again and ran on. Why couldn’t he wait for her? “Can I see the photos later, Gran?” “I’ll find them, there’s a couple in the album in my bedroom.” Sarah turned and raced after Toby. He’d already started to dig for the bracelet. “No, Toby, stop!” Sarah caught his arm. “Minna has to do it.” “Why?” He sat back on his heels. “Because she stole it and she buried it.” Toby wriggled away slowly and passed the trowel to Minna, a sulky expression on his face. Minna looked at them. “Do I have to?” “Yes, you do,” Sarah said adamantly. “You put it there and you have to do something about it. You stole it and that’s wrong!” Minna dropped the trowel beside her and knelt, tucking her dress tidily under her knees. She began to dig. Sarah and Toby knelt around the hole. It grew deeper. The trowel hit something. Minna dug around to make the hole wider. She pulled out a small, dirty, leather bag. “Well, open it,” Sarah demanded. Minna tipped the bag and a heavy, tarnished bracelet fell into her hand. “Here.” She passed it to Sarah. “Give it back. Just give it back.” She brushed her hands together. And disappeared. The blackened bracelet lay in Sarah’s hand. The links were thick and squarish. “I think there’s something engraved on the links.” Sarah felt one carefully. Toby peered at it. “Doesn’t look like much, does it?” Sarah picked at it with her nail. “You’ll scratch it,” Toby warned. “Odd that Minna should go like that,” Sarah said, “but we’d better take it back.” “Shouldn’t we give it to Rosemary and Willum?”

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“I don’t think so,” Sarah paused. “No, Minna would have stayed if we were to give it to them.” “You’re right.” Toby jumped up. “And she did say ‘give it back.’ ” “Which means she wants us to give it back!” Sarah put the bracelet in her jeans’ pocket and stood up. “Let’s go. We’d better tell Gran first, though.” She went through the front of the tree, to find Gran coming toward the tree carrying an album. “I found the photos and thought we could look at them here.” Sarah pulled Toby after her. “Gran’s got pictures of Elspeth and Minna!” They went back to the front step and sat down with Gran in the middle. Gran opened the album. A very young Minna wearing a flowered dress, white stockings and black slippers, appeared before them. An older girl stood beside her wearing matching clothes. “Minerva Elizabeth Handley, age 5, and Elspeth Marina Handley, age 7” was written in sloping handwriting under the photograph. “That’s my mother.” Gran touched the taller girl lightly with a gnarled finger. “And that’s her sister, Minerva. I’m named after her.” “You said your second name was Minna!” Sarah protested. “It is. She was called ‘Minna’ for short!” Gran stretched her back. “That means...that means Minna is my great-aunt!” “Not is, Sarah, but was.” Sarah flipped pages quickly. She stopped at a photo of Minna as she knew her, wearing the plaid dress with white lace round the hem. Her braids lay smoothly over her shoulders, each tied with a wide ribbon. Minna gazed straight into the camera’s eye. Sarah took a deep breath. “Oh WOW, double wow!” “Kerzow!” Toby said in a wondering voice.

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Thumbnail between her teeth, Sarah considered the photo. “What happened to Minna, Gran?” “Very sad, actually. She died of pneumonia just before her tenth birthday.” “Minna died?” Sarah stared at the photo, stunned. She wanted to cry for Minna but secretly had always known the truth. She sniffed. Toby pointed to a piano just visible in the dim background. “Is that your piano, Gran?” “It’s the one I learned to play on.” Play. That word again. Sarah smiled. “I’m going to learn to play the bagpipes!” Gran closed the album and rose to her feet slowly. “That really is a good idea, Sarah.” Sarah jumped up and ran, arms out, around the rose garden. She sang Road to the Isles. Music lilted within her. She stumbled, fell and rolled over. She stretched her arms above her head and smiled at the blue sky. It didn’t matter if she fell—she would fill the world with music. The bracelet bumped heavily in her pocket as she stood up. It reminded her of Minna’s request. She called to Gran, “Is it okay if we go over to the farm—we won’t be long.” “That’s fine. Just don’t forget they’re busy people.” Sarah and Toby brushed through the willow and went down the Big Field to the farmhouse. Starlings gossiped alone the roofline. Yellow pansies nodded in a tub beside the door. A tractor waited in the yard. Toby knocked on the back door. Romey opened it. “Hi.” “Can we come in?” Sarah asked. “Sure, what’s up?” Romey lead them into the kitchen. The remains of lunch lay on the table, mixed up with an open newspaper. Sarah pulled the bracelet from her pocket and held it up. “Look!” Romey took it and turned it in her hands. “What is it?” “We think it’s the fourth bit of the treasure,” Toby said.

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“Where did you find it?” “Under the willow tree. It was buried there.” Sarah leaned forward to touch the clasp as it dangled from Romey’s hand. Romey let it run through her fingers. She fetched the spoon, the cup and the locket from the dresser drawer and laid them together on the table. “I think you’re right. How did you find it?” “We just did.” Sarah shivered. A darkness formed in the far corner of the room. It billowed and changed like mist. Wisps of light threaded the darkness, shifted and gradually merged. Shapes grew in the light—Minna, the ghost-girl and Mr. Nye. They smiled at Sarah. Minna waved. A faint breath of bagpipe music drifted to Sarah. The three ghosts wavered and faded. Romey rubbed the bracelet between her fingers. “ ‘Peace for the tree’...that must mean the family tree, all the people who came before. Peace for the family.” Sarah picked up the spoon. “And friends too.”

Other Titles from Electric eBook Publishing:

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