Emma busied herself with little things for most the day, and when Alex returned around mid-night, he came with a full Bronco, and a bag Mike had packed for her. He may not agree with the way the place was to be run, but he still cared that she wore clean clothes. Good thing too, one more day in the same pair of jeans and they would’ve been walking.
The next morning she started a small load of laundry, in the industrial machine (after Beth had to show her where it was). Overall, she was glad to see Beth taking an active part in the place. She’d always been more inclined to that portion of the home than Emma had.
Often, Emma felt a little bitter about not being as good a cook as Beth or inadequate when it came to organizing a kitchen, but it just meant they accented each other, at least in business, because Beth had no head for figures or paperwork.
Everyone knew that Mike hadn’t left on the best of notes, and Emma felt as if they were treading lightly because of it. So while sliding her chair back from the table at breakfast, she declared
"Come hell or high water, Chatterton Place will be operational, before summer."
She left the room full of cheers, and started to find what needed to be done first. Sliding into the first room on the other side of the entrance hall, she discovered it was full of books, tables and a desk, it had to of been planned as an office. It was in just the right place for an office, just at the bottom of the steps and back off the main rooms.
Unlike any of the other rooms, it had two doors, one that entered from each hall, on opposite sides. A large fireplace took up most of one wall and a built in closet most of another. The window was the same size as those on the second floor, but the room only had one, the rest of the walls were bare.
As she entered the room, she noticed a large box, setting squarely in the middle of the desk. In bold black letters it read – START HERE FIRST.
Do to resent history that was the last box she pulled apart. The others contained all sorts of stuff for an office. Including telephone equipment and a full computer set up. When she stumbled across a box of stationary with the letterhead CHATTERTON PLACE, she decided it was time to look into the marked box.
Slowly she pulled the file marked read first; inside was a finely penned, handwritten letter that read:
I wish I knew your name, so I could address this to you
However, I rest assured that God has supplied the proper person.
First, I should tell you who I am. My name is Mrs. Janis Haager. I am not relation directly to the Chatterton’s. Mrs. Charlotte Chatterton Dalton hired me right after the birth of her first son – as nanny. I remained with them until I married. After my husband ran off with our son, I returned to their employment. Mrs. Dalton lost her husband a short time later and both of her boys were killed in the war. Mrs. Dalton became very driven after their deaths, to find the rightful heir to Chatterton Place, it was her Grandparents home, in southern Utah, but you know that now.
Her older sister was the person she was looking for, but for over forty years, she’d not seen her. Mrs. Dalton told me the story one night, about how her sister Lizzy had disgraced the family name and had been sent off with the culprit, whom she’d, indulged.
Emme, her Grandmother, had inherited the money to buy the place, from her Grandmother, and although hers to do with as she saw fit, she was to leave it to her oldest granddaughter, Lizzy.
After she was run off, Emme never forgave her husband and it was said to have brought about a big split in the family.
Anyway, Mrs. Dalton vowed to find her older sister, and bring peace to the earth once again, but she’d simply disappeared. She hunted for nearly fifty years herself then I was enlisted to finish the job, for which I have committed another thirty years on top of that.
Unfortunately, I was not successful either.
I have to admit, that I lost the first two years hunting for the GOLD.
After a couple of years, I decided that the stories were all wrong. There was no Gold but the property was a diamond in the ruff. Old Johnny was a brilliant man. He’d laid the place out, so to keep a family well to do, long after his demise. I asked Mr. Becksted to handle the affairs when Mrs. Dalton's accountant died. You may wish to have someone else do the job but Mr. Becksted is a fine man.
Over the years, I've made some improvements and set up a few things that were not completed as of this writing. If you wish to complete these things, I have put them in steps of importance, if followed the place will be operational in only a few months.
By the way, in my heart you are the rightful owner, but if you’re not, remember that with my signatures on those papers, the place is rightfully yours.
Good luck and God’s blessings are upon you. Janis Haager.
Emma's hand was trembling so badly she could hardly distinguish that which followed. After calming herself, she picked up the letter once again to read the instructions about following the step program.
Indeed, she’d laid them out in steps, One thru Twenty-five. Briefly thumbing through each it seemed to Emma that the head of a large corporation must’ve helped.
Not only were there things for Emma to do around the home's but there were contractor's she had to contact.
Code names, had been implemented so the work could be finish after her death. Everything was in a list, right from the company who was to rebuild the village area, down to the installation of the phone equipment and computer sales points. Furthermore, everything had already been PAID for. There was even a large sum of money in the local bank as a set up fund. Emma just needed to sign the card Mrs. Haager left, and return it to the bank.
Emma sat shaking her head when Beth popped through the door to announce that lunch was ready. Where had the time gone? She was more than happy to join the others in the dining room, although a portion of her mind remained behind. At least that was her excuse, when she jumped to her feet, the minute Alex mentioned the Rumor of GOLD. When she returned to the table with the letter, they understood her feelings on the matter.
"Mrs. Haager had lost two years looking for the Gold. It's going to be a waste of time-” She insisted, but Alex wasn't so sure. He kept repeating the stupid poem, the woman at the store had told him and Mike Saturday.
IN THE CASE BENEATH THE THREE, YOU'LL FIND THE KEY,
TO THE DOOR BEHIND THE BOOK STORE
"She said something else, but I can't remember how it goes."
Emma insisted it was a stupid poem and didn't make any sense. "Why would anyone want a key to a book store?"
"That's not all of it Em. It also said something about: ONE RIBBON BECOMING THREE, IS WHERE MY CHEST WILL BE."
Beth interrupted Alex "It's not right to go looking for Gold when we're sitting well right now."
"That's just what I was trying to say." Emma commended Beth. "Besides the only thing that would make life any easier would be to have the Village rebuilt, Right?"
Everyone agreed, "Well that’s just what I'm going to look into tomorrow, Mrs. Haager has already paid to have it done." she couldn't believe how wide all eyes grew. "So all I have to do is contact the construction company and let them know we are ready to start it."
"What if it's out of business?" Rob asked, with a mouth full of sandwich.
"Have hope guy's." Emma responded, heading back to the office.
She’d decided to take things one-step at a time. Mrs. Haager must’ve had a reason in laying it out that way. So who was she to mess with success? The next file contained a list of things to do right away. At the top of the list was contacting Mr. Mason and renewing his contract.
Emma agreed completely, since neither she or the others knew anything about farming, it was the best idea all day. She’d no sooner nodded her head to agree, when Jim popped his head into the room from the front hall, he stood there for a minute, glaring at her.
She worried she must’ve given him a “die look” as her kids called them. She tried a smile and suddenly he seemed to come back to life.
"You startled me there for a moment." He said crossing the room to take a seat across from her at the desk. "I never realized that someone as beautiful as you could look so good behind a desk."
The comment took her by surprise. Beautiful had never been one of those words she would’ve used to describe herself, Shelly yes, Crystal most definitely, but not her.
"What's this, buttering up the boss?"
His grin grew wider and his eyes were like pools of water. "Aw, she does live inside you."
She wouldn't mind listening to his complements all day, After all a woman who’s been married so long, very seldom gets to hear such stuff. Her and Mike's relationship was pretty much business like now a days. She’d just figured that raising a family was like that. Her distant look must’ve alerted him to keep talking.
"I never realized how much you looked like your G.G. Grandmother, till just then."
"What?" she asked, confused by his statement
"When I walked through the door, that’s why I stopped and stared."
The room had grown stuffy, all of a sudden, what he was trying to say still didn't make sense. "How about we talk outside, I feel the walls are closing in on me?"
Claustrophobic, had never been one of those words she would’ve used to describe herself, but right then the only thing she could think of was getting out of the house. He seemed more than willing to follow. After descending the steps to the cobblestone walk, she asked.
"When did you see a picture of my G.G. Grandmother?"
"Mom's got a book of all the founding parents. It has a few pictures, if you'd like I'll ask her if you can borrow it."
"I'd like that." she answered, and then a long silence ensued, as they followed the path around the lake and across the footbridge. Approaching the plantation style home, she said. "You know it's funny, every time I think of you, you’re right there."
He stopped by a half-beaten path, which led down to the water’s edge. "You shouldn't have thought so hard the other night."
She knew he was talking about his run in with Mike. He hadn't been back up since then. "Sorry about that." she said following him through the high grass.
"What are you sorry about? He's the one that should be saying those words." He stopped and said, looking back at her.
"He's touchy about his car."
"He should be more concerned about his wife." He announced as he started back off, through a stand of trees.
She wondered what he meant, but was sure she was in no danger, so she continued following after like a little puppy.
"What in the hell, gave you the idea I had a gun?" he swung around and shot at her as if he’d just remembered it.
"The stick" She was defending herself now.
"Hell girl, I wouldn't carry a gun to shoe off a few kids’."
She wondered why he kept referring to her as a girl. It definitely wasn't a word to describe her. Jim kept walking towards the pond, where he stopped and lifted his foot to a copper rock. She was a bit out of breath when she finally caught up with him.
"I've never seen such a peaceful place."
"Have you been up to the lake?" he said softly
"Yah, but it's a different effect." she found she was whispering too, "Here it could be the 1800’s. You know, there's no way of marking time."
He turned and looked at her as if he knew what she meant, his eyes were piercing but not painfully, they were gentle – then he looked back down at the water.
"I don't know it's just different." she went on – however, he didn't seem to be listening any longer. He was looking down at the water with such intent it was beginning to irritate her. Leaning closer, so she could see what he was staring at, she caught the faint outline of a fish, and understood his frustration. It had to be at least two feet long. Suddenly as if she’d touched him, he looked up at her and said “Sorry, that beast has avoided my hook for thirty years."
"Thirty years." She didn't mean to repeat what he’d said, but thirty years is a long time to be after one fish.
"I didn't think fish lived that long."
"Well" he looked back at the water "Maybe it's not the same one, but I’d still like to catch him, I guess things are better this way –” he looked back at her "I mean, some things in this world are best not tied down." Again, his eyes captured hers and for a minute, she felt as if he were exploring her soul. She wondered if this was his way of sizing her up.
"So what had you thinking about me today?" His words brought her back to reality, “Oh-" she had to look away, just to get a sense of what she wanted to say. "I was going through Mrs. Haager's lists this afternoon. She recommended that I contact you and renew your contract."
His expression was one of relief, he went on to tell her that he’d been worried she wasn't going to come to that decision. Even though he really hadn't had a contract, his father was the one with the contract. He’d counted on the extra money each year to keep the kids in school.
"Kid's?" she asked. He’d only spoken of his son Jimmy, who was away at college, some place in California.
"Sara is just finishing up her Jr. Year." he paused turning away from the pond. "She's in California with her mother's parents. They didn't think a single man was the best person to raise her."
She detected a sense of sorrow in his voice, so refrained from questioning about the separation.
"The last thing in this world you need to worry about is your job, just because you've gotten stuck with us city folk.”
He started to laugh and the twinkle returned to his eyes. "Yah, I kind of thought you might need some help?" he said with a chuckle.
“Mrs. Haager said you knew this place like the back of your hand." She’d been successful in changing the subject.
"She was talking about Dad." He answered swinging around to look straight at her. "I don't know a thing about the Gold."
For the third time that day, she heard the word Gold, as if it was supposed to mean something to her. "Gold!" she replied "My God doesn't anyone around here talk about anything besides that stupid poem?" He raised his eyebrows in told of his surprise. "My whole life has turned upside down in the past week." she went on, realizing that her voice was rather loud, so she lowered it. "A month ago, my family records were all intact. I knew as much about my G.G. Grandparents, as anyone my age should know."
They’d walked back to the cobblestone path as they talked. He stopped by the gate that had repelled her the other night. "We didn't have any secrets." Suddenly she stopped. "I guess that's why they call them secrets. Isn't it?" he shook his head in acknowledgement "Any way, this place was never spoken of. Or even wrote about." She was running out of steam. "My Dad, died without even knowing it was here. He worked his whole life for a place like this, and died three months before he was able to retire and buy one." She paused looking down at the ground, trying to hide the tears. "It's not fair. He should’ve been able to enjoy it, not me."
He stepped to her side, and put his arm around her shoulders, she swallowed hard and continued "It's bad enough, I have to step in and take care of this place, Why should I have to figure out why we were never told about It." she wiped the tear from her cheek, and sniffled. "The last thing I want is to battle with a folklore, which could send everyone I bring in to work, off looking for GOLD!"
He gently turned her so she had her face on his chest. His arms were warm and comforting. He stood there silent for a minute until she brought her tears under control. Then he said through a chuckle, "For a little girl you sure know how to spit out the words."
Maybe he was right. She was acting like a child. After all, there she was wrapped up in the arms of some man, she barely knew, crying her eyes out over some stupid poem. He pulled a checkered cloth from his back pocket and made her wipe her nose.
"I guess Mike was right." She finally said breaking the silence.
"About what?" he asked, leaning her out to look down at her.
“She was shaking her head, back and forth. "He said that I couldn't run this place by myself."
"For hell sakes no one could, doesn’t he know that? Why in the hell did he go running off back to Salt Lake leaving you here by yourself?"
She pulled lose and slid up on the Stonehenge that surrounded the third house. "Whose house is this?" she asked, pointing.
"You mean whose house was it, don't you? Besides" he answered stepping closer to her. "No changing the subject, this time. Why did he leave you here?"
"He didn't. I refused to go back to Salt Lake."
"Anything to do with this." he grabbed for her arm and pushed her sleeve up. It was quite apparent, that it had been caused by someone grabbing her. She pulled her arm free and pushed the sleeve back down, what business is it of his, she thought.
"No.!” she exclaimed, swinging her feet over the wall. "I’ve never owned a place I could call mine before. He wanted me to go back to Salt Lake and live in a rental."
She still hadn't figured out why she was telling him, but she felt better knowing he knew. He didn't ask any more questions, for a minute. She just sat there, soaking in the sun, staring up at the second floor balcony. The house was such a radical difference from the other two, it looked like something out of "gone with the wind."
"It was my grandmother’s home." he suddenly started to talk. "Old Johnny built it, I guess to help ease her home sickness." She was just about to ask how they had met, when he answered.
“They met on his mission. Her parents were upset about her decision to join the church, and she became on outcast. So he simply brought her home and married her."
It wasn't quite the romantic story she’d expected, but then again she figured most marriages back then where more for convenience, not love.
"You want to go in?" he asked opening the gate.
She debated the question for a moment. It’d been frightful the other night, but right then it wasn't anything more than another house.
"Sure” Why not she thought, sliding off the wall.
"But I don't have the key." she suddenly remembered.
“I've never known it to be locked." He responded bouncing up the semicircle stairway.
When the door flung open, she felt she’d stepped into one of the pages from Gone with the wind. It’s the closest thing she’d ever seen to Tara. Of course, there was furniture and boxes to be unpacked, but it didn't distract from the giant white columns, stretching some thirty feet to the ceiling.
The large open spaces made her wish to go back outside, and look at the size of the house. The entrance hall consisted of nearly the entire center of the house, with smaller rooms opening onto it. In the center of it rose a grand staircase, running to the back of the room, there was a small platform and it split creating two smaller staircases, that rose another five or six feet to the second floor. A delicate white, carved wood banister, circled back on both sides. In the middle, directly above her hung a two-tier chandelier.
Abruptly she turned and shot back out of the house. Jim raced after, only to find her a good distance from the Stonehenge, staring up at the house.
"Emma." He called "are you Okay?" He finished reaching the point where she stood.
All she could do, was shake her head yes then No then yes again. He grabbed her harshly by the shoulders and shook her, asking “What Emma? What did you see?"
Closing her eyes, she managed to stop the picture from bouncing around. And uttered
“It’s not real"
Again, he repeated shaking her even harder “What did you see?"
"I can't believe it's that big." Emma stammered out.
Suddenly he released her and turned away laughing. “My god girl, I thought you really saw something."
She opened her eyes to find him heading back to the house, "Saw something, like what?" She exclaimed.
He stopped and looked at her with a puzzled look. “A snake or a bug or something like that" He rattled off. He didn't have her completely convinced that’s what he meant, but she acted as if he had.
"Did I really see that, I mean that house, it is real isn't it?"
He only shot his famous grin back at her. Telling her, she was acting like a child again.
"It looks like something out of a book." She hoped that’d make her sound a bit more grown up.
“Yah, it does, huh." He answered from the top steps, she still hadn't move.
"Are you coming?" He called back, but she wasn't so sure she could go back inside.
"There isn't anything in here that will hurt you." He pleaded.
"Jim, you don't understand." She was staring down at her old ratty tennis shoes, and feeling very inadequate. "I've never owned even the smallest piece of property-" she went on to say, looking up to where he stood. "I've raised my children in one rental, after another." She drew a deep breath and turned to look back at the pond and the surrounding dell. It was soothing for her troubled nerves. "I'm not good enough to own something as impressive as that, I wouldn't even know how to care for it correctly." She went on, moving the dirt around with the toe of her shoe, not realizing he was now standing only a few feet away. "I don't feel clean enough."
"Clean enough!" His voice showed his frustration, as he swung her around by her sore arm. Quickly she pulled it away gasping. She knew he hadn't meant to hurt her.
“My brothers might be ready for this, and God knows they deserve it more, but I'm the one stuck with it.” Again, the tears started to flow freely. Pushing them to the side she thought, she must look like a baby. Every time he was around her, the tears started, but she was frustrated. How was she going to rebuild this place herself? She held her head lower, hoping he wouldn't notice her moist eyes, but gently he clasped his hands about her face and lifted it to look directly into her eyes.
He swayed a bit looking back at the open door, and then he bent down, thrust his strong shoulder into her stomach, and lifted her off the ground. Swiftly he bound through the gate and up the steps, and then sprinted through the door and down the two steps at the landing, crossing the room to plop her squarely on her backside, at the foot of the stairs.
"You listen to me, and listen good girl, because I don't ever want to say this again" His steely blue gray eyes were piercing. Somewhere in the process, he’d lost his hat, allowing his thinning hair to encircle his ears.
"Besides-" he added dropping to his knees, to look her squarely in the face. "I doubt I'll ever have the nerve to say it again." He took a deep breath and went on, with more emotion. "You're the chosen one!"
Blankly she stared at him, time standing still “For what?" She asked, not liking his choice of words. He sprung to his feet and swirled around with arms extended “This Em. All of this, and everything that goes along with this." He stopped – looking down at her, "You have the POWER." He whispered it, as if it was something required.
He was beginning to scare her, and he must have sensed it, for he turned and walked off into the first small room at the front of the house.
How did he know of the Power, she wondered, or was he speaking of something else. She was fearful of asking the question but it had to be asked. "What power?"
There was no response. Perhaps he hadn't heard her, so she stood and proceeded to follow him into the room. "What power?" She asked again, entering the room, but still no response. He stood, motionless, before the large window, which over looked the dell they’d entered threw. Marble gave way to hard wood floors at the arched doorway, the far wall was nearly encompassed with a marble fireplace, there were no bookcases in this room, unlike in the other home’s and the walls were a solid plaster, painted white. Instead of the usual wallpapered effect, that was very prevalent, elsewhere.
"Jim… you’re scaring me." She whispered as if she were in a church.
"I don't mean to." He said, in a hushed tone, turning his attention to her “I just thought you would understand." He looked down at her feet for a moment, then slowly returned his eyes to hers, she knew she’d just been given the once over.
"Humans, unlike the animals in nature, have the ability to aspire to whatever level they wish."
She sighed a breath of relief “Awe, the old 'anyone can do it speech'." From the moment they met, she knew, he could read her better than anyone else had ever been able to. What gave him the ability, she wondered, when Mike can't seem to find it?
"What did you think I meant?" He questioned.
"I don't know." She searched for an answer. "I just thought you may have meant something different."
"I'm sure you have that too." He said, walking towards her, His face very serious. The thought made Emma gasp.
"How – Why" Stumbled out of her mouth
Slowly he reached for her hand but she pulled away in fright, no one had been able to read her palm. Once though, her Grandma had said something rather strange, while stroking her hand, but not reading her palm. She’d said that she had special powers, that she may one day find a curse. It’d frightened her than, and even the thought of it now sent chills up her back. Maybe he’d see something good, she thought offering it to him anyway.
He chuckled "I don't read palms." He said taking it and turned it over. Then he softly stroked the top of her hand looking straight into her eyes, and gently he stopped just at the fringes of her fingertips.
"You look with your fingers."
"Doesn't every one?" She asked pulling her hand away. He only turned and walked back to the window, disappointed.
"What do you see?" He demanded pointing out the window.
Slowly, she walked to the window, expecting to see more than the dell, but that was all that was there. The yellow lace curtains defused even that. "Tell me." He demanded
So moving a bit closer, she pushed back the curtain for a better look. Instantly, the scene before her changed. Her first reaction was to pull away, but he held her hand firmly in place. His other hand he’d placed on her waist so she couldn't turn away.
"Tell me! What do you see?" He commanded, although not in a harsh voice. It was more like a whisper that sent chills down her spine, because of his closeness.
"Its winter," she started, half expecting him to pull away in shock, but he only held tight.
So she went on, telling him everything she could see, right from the naked trees, and snow that appeared to be several feet deep, to the children ice skating on the pond, she even told him what they wore. Then she turned to see what kind of reaction she was going to get. If it had been Mike, he would be telling her just how crazy she was. No matter what he ever said, though she couldn't deny the strange occurrences.
"What about the deer?" He asked, causing her attention to be redirected back to the scene that lay before them. Sure enough, there was a deer, drinking from where the pond ran into the small stream, at the footbridge. More important though, was the fact that he knew the deer was there. Turning but not releasing the curtain, she asked looking directly into his face, "You can see it too, can't you?" He never answered. He only grasped her hand even tighter. Suddenly she became very aware of just how close he was, when she felt his breath quicken.
"Watch, and don't pull away." He demanded "No matter what."
Again, his hot breath caressed the back of her neck, it was a horrid spot to place an arousal point, it never seemed to serve her well. Mike was very seldom in that position, and everyone else who whispered something in her ear, was. She couldn't help her weakening knees, or the emotions that were bubbling lose. His tense body and quickening breath served no help, nor did his heaving chest at her back.
So she focused on the picture that was emerging before her. It could’ve been mistaken as a scene for an old play, or a Curriers and Ives plate. She uttered out everything she saw, bewildered she looked to him in confusion. What more did he want. He’d proven they both could see the picture.
"What is it you want me to see?" She asked, only a few inches from his face, he still hadn't retrieved his hat and his cologne was stronger than she’d realized.
Momentarily he looked down at her, his eyes were intense, and he was having trouble catching his breath. "Just watch." He pleaded, "I've never been able to witness the whole thing."
The words were strong, but his touch softened. He returned to watching back out the window, and she followed suit, but his gentle circular stroking of her waist, was an indication to her that he was feel the magic too.
What was she to witness? Would it tell her something about her Grandmother? She hadn't long to wait, from the far side of the pond, come a tall dark man, he must of been at least seventy. She wouldn’t have guessed that from the way he forcefully strolled across the ice, without the aid of ice skates. She wasn't sure why she thought he was th