Emma sighed wearily as she pulled a handful of weeds out of the soil. Her back was tired from bending up and down, and her hands were brown from the dirt. But that wasn't the worst part. Once she got home, she had even more work to do.
As she tossed the weeds out of the garden, she looked around at the work which she and Peter had done that evening. The ground looked nice and clean. The peas were quite tall now, and the tomato plants were looking very healthy. But there was still one area of the garden where the weeds formed a green carpet. Emiline could hardly tell them apart from the young herbs which were springing up in that place.
I'm tired, the girl whined inside. I don't want to work anymore. She followed Peter silently as they went to finish their job. Cleaning floors was one thing, Emma thought, thinking back on all of the things she had helped Mrs. Winston with last winter. But I never did like gardening.
If it hadn't been for the fact that she loved Mrs. Winston and for the fact that the old woman paid her, Emma would have gladly let the weeds take over in that garden. Still grumbling inside, she knelt down and started picking the unwanted plants out.
"Oh, my dears, you've done a splendid job!" Mrs. Winston exclaimed.
Emiline looked up at her and smiled. Mrs. Winston had just stepped out of her house and was walking toward them with a plate of freshly baked cookies in hand. Peter met her half way and grabbed one gratefully.
"We'll be done soon," he said.
Soon? Emma echoed in her mind doubtfully. It feels like we'll never be done! She dusted one hand off and accepted the cookie Mrs. Winston offered her.
"Well," the old lady began with a pleasant smile, "you might as well call the job done for now anyway."
Emiline perked up with sudden joy. "Are you sure?" she asked, trying not to sound too eager to quit.
"Yes. I know there are a lot of weeds here, but the herbs are so small that I'm afraid they'll get uprooted while you work. Sometimes that happens, you know. Have you two heard Jesus' parable about the weeds?"
The two shook their heads and listened eagerly. The story was about a man who had planted his field with good seeds. But while the gardeners were asleep, an enemy had come and planted weeds there too. They couldn't pull out the weeds without uprooting the good plants. So, they let them both grow together until harvest time. Mrs. Winston explained that the good plants were Christians and that the weeds were people who had decided to be evil.
"We don't live in a perfect world," she said. "There are all kinds of people here, some good and some bad. Sometimes, the sinful people will try to get us to do naughty things with them. But we don't have to let the weeds of this world ruin us. All we need to do is make sure that we keep serving the Lord no matter what. We also need to be a good example to them when we can be because unless they stop sinning and start following Jesus, they won't be able to go to Heaven. We can be like lanterns shining God's love and the good news of salvation to everyone's hearts."
By the time Mrs. Winston had finished, Emma and Peter had eaten more cookies than they could count and were feeling very happy. Then they told the old woman goodbye and headed home.
As the two walked down the steep road, Emma looked over at her friend. His horse was walking at his side looking calmer than usual. Every day, it seemed like the creature became tamer and tamer. But Emiline still wouldn't go near him. No matter how much Storm liked Peter, he seemed flighty around other people. It didn't take much to spook him.
"What are you doing tonight?" Emma asked gloomily. She didn't wait for an answer. "I have to clean the cellar," she sighed. "I've had to do almost everything! I'm tired of cleaning house." She bit her lip and stopped her whiny voice. "I guess it isn't right of me to complain," she grumbled. Then, with a brighter tone, she carried on. "But wouldn't it be nice if we had servants to do our chores? We could just watch them work while we read books. And we could go out anytime we wanted to!"
Peter laughed. "You might like that," he said. "But I'd feel like a bump on a log if I didn't do something. My family needs me to work. I'd rather feel needed than useless."
Emiline listened with a curious frown. "Well," she began hesitantly, "I didn't say I wanted to be useless. Of course I would do nice things for people. But if I was rich and had servants, I would be able to do them whenever I wanted to. I wouldn't have to wake up early every morning to milk the cows before school." Emma's dreams went on and on. But as she looked at Peter from time to time, she doubted that he was listening. Suddenly, he stopped and looked all around.
"What are you doing?" the girl asked.
"Emma," Peter began thoughtfully. A glittering smile spread across his face. "Let's take a shortcut!"
"A shortcut?" Emiline asked, cocking her head to one side.
"Come on, I'll get you home faster than you'll believe!" he said confidently. Peter had a bigger plan than just getting home faster. The forest around Mrs. Winston's house was full of weasels and other animals. He couldn't set up his traps yet, but he was scheming and dreaming about the future in his mind.
At last, Emiline agreed. In half a moment, they had left the steep, rocky road far behind, and the big trees closed around them. Emma walked as fast as she could. Ahead of her, Peter was bounding with long strides, whistling a happy tune. For a while, all she could think about was trying to keep up with him. Then something happened, and all of the worries left her mind.
A soft beam of evening sunlight touched Emiline's face, and she looked at the forest in wonder. Through the tall pines, shafts of light were falling all around her, and the moss made a bright green carpet on the forest floor. It was beautiful, like a place you might find in a fairytale. She lost sight of Peter as she stared up at a tall mountain and dreamed of the castle she would have liked to build there. How lovely it would feel to be a princess in that mysterious forest, surrounded by the wild flowers and the sound of song birds.
Peter's mind was just as busy. But his thoughts weren't building castles. Now and then, he glanced back at his imaginative friend to make sure she wasn't getting too far away. Then he studied the ground for the best places to set his traps that autumn.
Time drew on and on, but Emiline and Peter didn't notice. They traveled further and further into the forest feeling nothing but excitement and joy. It didn't even occur to Emma that the boy's shortcut was taking a long time.
The last rays of golden light vanished from the forest as the sun dipped behind the hills. Emiline felt a cold breeze cutting through her jacket. The sunshine had moved to a little hill not far away.
"Peter, it's getting cold," Emma said, shivering.
Peter had just stooped down, looking under the branches of a thicket. It seemed like a good place to set a trap. At the sound of Emma's voice, the boy looked up and glanced around the forest. For a moment, he didn't say a word.
"What's wrong?" the girl asked.
"...Nothin'," Peter answered slowly. He looked around one more time in a strange, almost worried way. Then he rose to his feet. "Come on, Emma, we'll climb that hill and walk in the sunshine for a while. Now, no more wandering off!" he added seriously. "You're gonna get yourself lost if you're not careful." He grabbed her hand as if he was suddenly afraid to lose her and led her up the hill with even faster steps.
Lost, Emiline repeated in her mind. Her heart throbbed with fear. Are we...could we be lost?
She didn't ask the question aloud. It would have made Peter angry if she had accused him of losing his sense of direction. And if she was wrong, it would prove that she really was lost. She followed the boy up the hill trying to control her feelings.
Of course we can't be lost, she corrected herself. Peter hikes in the woods all the time! Surely, he knows his way around. If only she could have believed herself. If only she could have trusted that her friend was leading her home.
In several minutes, Peter and Emma came to a halt. Standing before them was a house, a barn, a tool shed, a wagon, and a garden of daffodils smiling around a little fence. Emiline stared in confusion. It was certainly a home. Or at least, it had been once. But it wasn't her own. And the sight of it made the cool of evening turn icy with fear.
"Where are we?" she gasped in a horrified whisper. "I didn't know there was a house up here." She looked around searching for a road which led to the property, but she couldn't see one.
Peter was speechless. Everything about that place had changed from pleasant to strange and frightening. The remnants of two standing walls jutted up through a heap of burnt boards and ruined furniture. The barn stood a little way off, charred slightly but not destroyed. Its roof was caving in from age and neglect.
Emma's blood ran cold as she looked up. One lonely tree stood beside the burnt house, half dead from the fire and half struggling to live. In its branches, a small night shirt dangled. What had happened here? The mystery of a forgotten tragedy begged to be solved.
"Oh Peter," she exclaimed at last, "do you think anyone survived?"
"Survived what?" the boy replied. His voice sounded further away than the girl had expected. She hadn't even noticed when Peter had left her side.
"The fire!" she said. Her eyes searched the property until she spotted her friend gazing into the window of an old tool shed. It was the only building that still looked stable. Peter shrugged and shook his head.
"You know, Emma," he began distractedly, "this shed is still full of stuff! I bet it's been here for years!"
Emma couldn't believe his lack of concern. Here, something horrific had happened. And all he cared about was tools. She stepped toward the old crumbling home and stood where the front door had once led into a cozy living room. How many people had laughed here in the past? What kind of a lady had once stood here sweeping her porch clean and planning her garden? Now it was all gone.
"How sad," she sighed aloud. "I don't suppose anyone did survive. If they had, they would have cleaned up this horrible mess and taken some of their things." A tear trickled down her cheek as she thought about it. "Oh Peter, I can't stay here anymore!" she exclaimed. "This is dreadful!"
She turned toward the tool shed again. But now, Peter was nowhere in sight. All she could see was the black stallion nibbling on grass. Peter hadn't stayed in one place for long. He had already gone inside of the shed, explored it for a moment, and then moved on.
"You worry too much, Emma," his distant voice said.
Emiline frowned in irritation. "I do not," she argued. "Maybe you don't worry enough!" Then, looking high and low, she asked, "Where are you anyway?" She heard him laugh mischievously, but she still couldn't see him anywhere. Suddenly, he dropped down from the limb of a tree and grabbed his horse's reins.
"It's gettin' late," he said, walking toward her. "I guess we had better hurry home. Follow me, Emma."
The girl hurried after him. Then he does know the way! she thought in delight. Whether he really did or not, his confident attitude had convinced her. Soon, she felt almost guilty for doubting his sense of direction. He led her straight down through the beautiful woods to her farmhouse's back door.
That night, Emiline's dreaded chores didn't seem as bad as she had thought they would be. Her mind was so captivated by that old burnt house that the hours slipped by unnoticed.
Author's Note: Sorry to anyone who has been waiting for this chapter! It's taken me a long time to get back to posting! Lately, I've had my hands full with projects. I'm illustrating a children's book called Solo the Lucky Duck. I've been editing my next two novels. And, as always, I've been playing around with new story ideas :)! But, I'll try to get back on a schedule and start posting more chapters to The Richest Heart and to The Treasure of Netherstrand here. I hope you enjoy them! Let me know by giving the chapters a like and a comment! I'd really appreciate it!
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