Free The Secret of Sentinel Rock by Judith Silverthorne

too.”
    “Sure – it grows wild all over the pasture.” Emily pointed to a plant with her wet sneaker. “It’s just starting to bloom. See? You can pick it and steep it like tea. It can be dried, too.”
    “Well, aren’t you wonderful, Emily.”
    Emily grinned. “The thanks go to my grandmother. She knew everything about plants and I just listened. She said camomile was great for curing almost anything.”
    “Come on, lass. Let’s take this to my home and then we’ll come back with a basket for some of this camomile,” said Emma. She snatched up the bag of mushrooms from the ground where they’d left it and headed into the ­trees.
    The girls hurried up the path and across the clearing to the new building site. Huge clusters of mosquitoes hovered above their heads, causing the girls to flail their arms in the air as they ran. Once they reached the buildings, Emily discovered a huge smouldering fire in the yard, from which billowed clouds of smoke that seemed to be keeping the mosquitoes at bay. All the livestock were pressed against their compound fences, huddling as close as they could to the smudge for relief from the biting ­pests.
    Emily was amazed to find the sod buildings finished. Emma drew her inside the compact house, where she stepped onto a packed dirt floor. Although the interior was dark and damp with thick walls, Emily felt the cosiness of Emma’s new home. The single room was neatly furnished with a wood cookstove, a solitary table, a couple of benches, and a few chairs. A quilt hung across the middle of the room, concealing several cots and beds made up on straw mats on the ­floor.
    The baby, Molly, was asleep in a cradle with netting stretched over the opening, and her mother lay on a bed beside her, looking pale and worn. Emma quietly crossed to a cupboard on the far wall and dumped the mushrooms into a bowl. Then she covered them with a cloth, and tiptoed back out into the sweltering heat of the day with Emily close behind ­her.
    “Mother needs her rest. She’s been up since early morning doing the laundry,” Emma explained as she wadded up the plastic bag and handed it back to ­Emily.
    Emily tucked it into her pants pocket. “Guess you’d have a hard time explaining this, wouldn’t you?”
    Emma grinned. “Come on, I’ll show you the garden.”
    Emily couldn’t believe her eyes at the size of the plants, but when she thought about it, she realized over a month had passed in Emma’s time. Bella was in the garden again, this time directing the younger children on how to pull weeds. She waved at Emma and asked her to bring a bucket of water to the thirsty ­crew.
    Emily followed Emma through a stand of poplars, where they found a wooden pail turned upside down over a plank lid. The handle of the pail was tied to a rope. Emma heaved the solid lid up and threw it aside with a thunk, then dropped the bucket into the deep dark hole. Emily could hear the splash when it hit water. Emma jerked the rope until the pail sank, struggled to pull the heavy load back up again, then grabbed a dipper hanging on a nearby tree. As she hauled the bucket back to the garden, the water sloshed onto her feet and the hem of her dress, but she didn’t seem to ­mind.
    “Tell me who everyone is,” Emily asked, as they walked ­along.
    “All right,” said Emma. “You already know Bella – Isabella, really. She’s 17 – my oldest sister. The younger ones are Elsbeth – Beth for short, she’s named after my mother, and Katherine, although we call her Kate. She’s the serious one of the bunch.”
    Emily laughed. “There must be something about the name Kate. That’s my mother’s name and she’s always serious, too.”
    By now the girls had reached the edge of the garden and the others came running for a drink. Bella poured some of the water into a crockery jug for later and suggested Emma take the remaining water to the men working in the field. Then the sisters went back to ­hoeing.
    “Come