The Richest Heart

Chapter 15

Peter brushed a cobweb away with his hand. The old tool shed was full of them. But buried beneath the dust and spiders, he could see treasures of all kinds.

"Look at all this stuff!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Whoever owned this place knew how to build!" He picked up two rasps, a hammer, some rusty saws... Soon his hands and arms were full of tools.

"Are the spiders gone?" a shaky voice asked outside.

"Oh, c'mon Emma," the boy complained, "stop being so scared of everything. The spiders aren't gonna hurt you."

Emiline glanced around uneasily. She couldn't help but feel scared. Every time she looked at the scorched house and the ruined pieces of furniture, she felt a chill run down her spine. And yet, there was something wonderful about that feeling; it made her feel like a detective trying to solve a mystery.

That evening, Peter was busy. His mind had been scheming for a long time, and now he had finally come to a decision: he was going to make the tool shed his own.

"I'll spend hours here," he said, shuffling boxes around. He had brought an armload of traps into the building, and he had come with a load of cheese and apples too. "On Friday nights, I'll come here and spend the whole weekend gettin' this place ready for cleanin' hides."

"You would stay all alone in a place like this?" Emiline shrieked. "But won't you be scared?"

"I don't get scared," Peter answered boastfully. "What's there to be scared of? Spiders?" He gave a joking laugh. "I know how to get rid of them."

Emma shook her head. She glanced into the tool shed, wondering if she should go inside, but the sight of dangling spider webs and clouds of dust made her cringe. Instead, she ventured toward the ruined house, looking all around her in a cautious way.

She hadn't explored the place very much. She had always stopped at the front porch, not daring to go any further. But now, as she waited for Peter to finish cleaning his shed, she stepped into the rubble and searched the ground. A mound of blackened stones told her where the fireplace had been. Everything around it had been completely destroyed. But further away, there were a few items which still had shape. One was a cast-iron stove, and another was a big roll-top desk which had fallen down. The fire had only lightly touched that corner of the house. Emma eyed the desk with a tingle of excitement and curiosity.

There's no telling what might be inside. she thought. She stepped forward carefully, yearning to open that desk and find out what kind of treasures it held. But... would it be right to look? It felt like trespassing; and yet, who would care? The owners of that place were long gone, and it looked as if the house and its belongings hadn't been touched in years. It might answer some of my questions, she thought. Maybe she would find a clue in that desk, something that would tell her how this tragedy had happened.

Throwing her caution away, she moved across the cluttered floor and knelt down beside the desk. The rotting wood crumbled in her hands as she pushed its top open. From inside, the sight she had been hoping for stared back at her: letters, envelopes, a woman's jeweled brooch...there were all kinds of amazing things in that desk. There was only one problem, the papers were water stained and speckled with mold. Emiline hesitated.

Ugh! She cringed in disgust, but her curiosity nagged her to pick up the papers and read them. She was dying to know more about the people who had lived there. At last, she reached out a reluctant hand and picked up a stack of letters. The paper felt brittle as she unfolded one of them, and the ink had bled until most of the words couldn't be read. Even so, she could still see a few lines of elegant writing.