Chapter 42

During the winter months, business slowed. As Mary predicted, heavy snows eluded the area and the influx of skiers never materialized. All the businesses in town suffered.

By spring, everyone was ready for a change. Even Gail looked forward to the expected tourist invasion as a welcome change. At the moment, all she could think about was the trip to the site of Danielsford, scheduled for the coming week.

“Six days, Gail,” Mary said. “Contain yourself until then.”

When the day arrived, they packed the car and made a sign saying they would reopen in a week. Frank hung the sign on the front door, and they were off.

By early afternoon, after stops for lunch and to stretch, they arrived in Wenham, Massachusetts. Frank parked in front of the same bed-and-breakfast he used during his other visits and got two rooms.

“Do we go in now?” Gail asked.

He checked his watch. “It’s two o’clock. We can go have a look. I don’t think it’s wise to try until tomorrow.”

“I wonder if the marker you put up is still there,” she said.

“We’ll find out. Come on,” he said. “Let’s go have a look at the jungle we’ll face in the morning.”

He parked in almost the same spot as he did during his last visit and they got out of the car. The thick forest and brush, turning a light green with the spring leaves, was as thick as he remembered.

“Is it like that all the way?” Marjorie asked.

“It isn’t any better,” he said. “I’ve been in there four times now, so at least I think I can find the site without getting too lost.”

“You can’t get lost,” Gail said. “Any way you walk, you’ll come out somewhere. I looked at it on Google Earth. It’s not a giant area.”

“It's big enough to get lost in,” Frank replied.

“I don't think so,” Gail shot back. She glanced at Frank and frowned. After a moment, she grinned. “I'll take care of you. Don't worry.”

Mary and Marjorie looked away, trying not to laugh.

“See that kind of opening right there,” he said, pointing to his left. “That's where we go in. We'll go straight back a ways, and you'll see a stretch where the forest isn't as heavy. There used to be a road. Follow it and we should come to the remains of Danielsford in, I don't know, an hour. It's slow going because of the brush.”

“So just about straight back?” Gail asked. She focused on the spot. “Sounds simple enough.”

“It isn't. You can lose track of direction.”

“Don't you have a compass?” she asked.

Frank's eyes flicked to her and back to the woods. “I never thought of it.”

Gail nodded and stared at the forest, as if expecting to see the town make an appearance.

“Let's find a place to eat,” Frank said. “Nothing stays open late here.”

Mary stood for a moment, looking into the woods. Then, nodding, she turned and followed the others to the car.

They drove back to Wenham, only a few minutes away, to find a restaurant.

When they settled at a table and had ordered, Mary leaned forward. “I sense nothing there. It doesn't mean Rebecca isn't near, only that I don't feel her presence.”

“We can still see where her house was, can't we?” Gail asked.

“If we can find it, and if it isn't in the swamp,” Marjorie said. She looked at Mary for confirmation.

“If we can find and safely visit, we will,” Mary nodded.

“Ten-minute walk from your shop,” Frank murmured.

 “About. Much longer now. There are no paths to it now.”

Gail turned to Mary. “She could be there, though. Right?”

“It's possible,” Mary replied. “I didn't expect to find her in Danielsford. But, yes, she might be there.”

“There's always a chance,” Marjorie added. “She’s powerful and may hide from us.”

“She would know we're here?” Gail asked.

“I’m certain she would,” Mary said.

“What time do we want to start?” Frank asked.

“At dawn,” Mary said.

“Dawn?”

“Yes. Dawn,” Mary repeated.

Gail eyed Frank. She didn't seem excited to hear the time, either.

“I've never gotten up that early,” she said.

“It will be a novel experience,” Mary said.

Gail glanced to Mary, but said nothing. Suddenly the trip was less exciting, although she knew once they started and found the town, she would forget the pain of rising early. She was sure she could find interesting artifacts with the metal detector. Maybe some would be valuable, and some of them may even have been Mary's.

“Would you recognize them?” she asked Mary.

“I don't know,” Mary said. “If they come from the ground where my home and shop sat, they could be mine.”

“I might find some old money.”

“That would be a treasure. There wasn't much of it in town. Remember my story. We bartered and traded because of the lack of money.”

When they finished dinner, they returned to their rooms and settled into chairs outside on a rear patio, both to enjoy the cool afternoon and plan their journey. Frank told them what he and another searcher found when they went in.

“Like I said,” he told them. “We think it was one of the old roads to Danielsford. It's hard to pick out now after so many years. If I can find it, we can follow it right to the town.”

“Once we get there?” Gail asked.

“We'll look around,” Mary said. “You can use the device to look for things. Then we'll go try to find Rebecca's home. If we don't get to it tomorrow, we'll search the day after.”

At 4 AM, as promised, Mary had Frank up. Marjorie was awake and dressed and trying to get Gail up.

“She's awake, just being difficult,” Marjorie said.

Mary went in and less than two minutes later appeared with Gail. “Get your machine and whatever you wish to bring. We're leaving in five minutes.”

Gail nodded and wobbled back into the room. A moment later, she was back with her metal detector and a pouch containing a tool for digging and extra batteries.

“There's no place to get coffee at this time of the night,” Frank groaned.

“You'll live,” Marjorie said.

“We're ready?” Mary asked. She looked at Frank and Gail. “Let's go.”

“It isn't even daylight,” Gail said.

“It will be soon. Come on,” Mary said and started for the door. Marjorie, looking fresh and awake, followed. Frank and Gail, looking less than awake, brought up the rear.

They parked in the same location and all sat and looked at the forest, which sat on the opposite side of a small field in front of them. There was nothing imposing about the woods. It was thicker, with more low brush than in those around Woodstock, and it was more humid and warmer.

“Come on,” Frank said. “We won't get there sitting here.”

Frank and Mary led the way and soon found the barely identifiable path of the old road. As they walked, Frank remembered George Masters finding the road and showing him how to identify it.

Remembering their finding Danielsford, he thought about the first showdown with Rebecca and bringing the marker to place at the site of Mary's shop. Had it, he wondered, survived the winter?

“Pay attention to where we are going,” Mary said. “Remember what happened here at another time.”

“We should be close,” he said.

“We are very close,” Mary said. “Something you did not know. Minutes ago, we passed the place they took me for burial.”

Frank stopped. “It was on this road?”

“Not on the road, but only a scant distance off it.” She turned and pointed behind them. “Back a little ways and to the left. It’s all changed. The little trail they used is centuries gone.”

“That means we’re within a mile or so of Danielsford,” Gail said.

“I think much less,” Mary replied.

Ten minutes later, Frank saw a decayed timber, green with moss and crumbling with age.

“Part of a building,” he said.

Another fifty yards and he saw the marker, still standing where Mary’s old shop and home sat.

He pointed at it. “There’s the marker.”

“We’ve arrived,” she said. “This is about the center of town.”

Gail looked around. “It isn’t how I expected it to be.”

“It’s been over 3 centuries since the storm destroyed it, Gail,” Mary said.

Marjorie surveyed the area. “I’m surprised you found anything when you came here. Nature has taken it all back.”

“Almost,” Frank said, staring at the marker. It looked the same as when he put it there, several years before.

Gail slid out of her pack and opened it. In a minute, she had her metal detector together and was loading batteries into it. The others watched. Mary smiled. Marjorie stepped closer and studied the device.

“I’ve wondered how they work,” she said.

“Come with me,” Gail said. “I’ll show you.”

She turned the machine on and spent a moment setting the controls and then began sweeping the ground. Within seconds they heard high-pitched beeps. She swept the spot several times, making an ‘X’ shape.

“Right there,” she said. “I don’t know what it is.”

“So, what’s next?” Marjorie asked.

“We dig.”

Mary and Frank walked up to watch.

“What could it be?” Mary asked, eyeing the patch of dirt.

Gail knelt and began digging, using a small gardening trowel. She stopped to check the dirt, dug some more, and found a small round object. After rubbing it on her jeans, she held it up.

“A coin,” she said. “It’s not in good shape. I guess it’s been down there for a long time.”

They looked at it, and Mary studied it. “A farthing, I would wager. I am amazed even such an amount escaped anyone’s pocket. Coin was scarce to find here.”

Gail worked the area for another half hour while the others both watched and explored the nearby area. Finally, Mary called a halt.

“It’s time to find Rebecca’s, if we are to do it today,” she said. “My shop and home were here. The house was that way, across the Common and a ten-minute walk.”

“They hung you out there,” Gail said.

“It was tall grass and maple trees then,” Mary said. “The tree they used is no more, but it was near the center.”

Seeing the area as a Common was hard for Gail to imagine. Frank and Marjorie knew what they were, a place for the residents to graze their animals rather than the parks they have become.

“And there were houses all around it,” Gail said. She shook her head. “I can’t even figure out where the streets were.”

“Three hundred years ago is a long time,” Mary answered.

“Well, I have the coin. There must be other things, but we need to find the house.”

“Ten minutes away, following a path,” Frank mused.

Gail looked at Mary. “Let’s go find the house.”

“This way,” Mary said and began leading them across the old Common.

When they reached the opposite side, Mary stopped.

“About there,” she pointed, “was Constable Eaton’s home and the jail. “We go this way. It isn’t far. The water is over there to our left, so the house may be on dry land.” She glanced at the ground. “Sort of dry land. It is all bog here now.”

Twenty minutes later, she stopped again. “We should be close. Everything is so different, but I think the house was in this area.”

““Spread out,” Gail said. “We can cover more ground.”

Mary nodded. “Frank, you come with me or we’re apt to never see you again.”

They took different directions and began slowly searching the forest and brush for anything that looked like the remains of a house. It was slow work, and several times one or the other thought they found something, only to realize it was a downed tree.

After an hour, Marjorie called to the others, saying she thought she found it.

“It’s old lumber,” she said when they met her, “but it’s all in this one place.”

Mary looked, and they walked around, finding more pieces half buried. “It is the right size, and the wood is cut and worked. I believe you have found Rebecca’s home.”

“It’s the house?” Gail asked.

“No other buildings were close. It can be no other.”

“I guess it just collapsed through the years,” Marjorie said.

“So it appears,” Mary said.

“I’d say so,” Frank said. “The big storm helped, and there were others through the centuries. I never thought we’d find it so soon.”

“Nor I,” Mary said. “Even knowing where it was, the land is so different I thought we would have more difficulty.”

“So,” Gail asked. “Now what do we do?”

“Take your machine,” Mary said, “and look for things. I hope to find something personal to her, if it still exists.”

“Better than digging with our hands,” Frank said.

“Which is what we would do if not for Gail and her detecting machine,” Mary said.

“Metal detector,” Gail said. “It only finds metal.”

“I’ll help,” Marjorie said. “You search. I’ll dig.”

“Such remarkable devices,” she said.

“We’re doing something in here after dark?” Frank asked. He glanced around.

“It will be the best time.”

“If they don’t find anything?”

“We will do something else. I would like a personal item. Something she touched or used.”

“After dark,” he repeated.

“You are afraid of the night?” she asked.

Gail and Marjorie searched the ground where the house once sat, and spread out to the surrounding ground. They uncovered numerous artifacts. Mary inspected each one and shook her head.

“Nothing that I recognize as belonging to her. These are all things the previous family left.”

“Some of it might be valuable,” Frank said. “Those fireplace irons, even rusted and corroded, would bring something.”

“But they were not Rebecca’s,” Mary said. “She brought little with her. We had little to bring anywhere in those days. I thought perhaps a brooch, or some other personal item.”

“Then we can dig?” Gail asked.

“You can dig,” Mary replied.

Gail turned to Marjorie. “We can take turns to give you a break.”

“Good idea,” Marjorie said. “I think I’ve got my exercise for the day, between kneeling and standing, and the digging.”

“Yeah,” Gail said. She shot Marjorie a sly look. “And I’m a lot younger.”

“Young enough to spank.”

They laughed and Gail handed Marjorie the metal detector and took the trowel. “You know how it works?”

“Just swing it back and forth. If it beeps, try to narrow the area down.”

“Keep the coil level with the ground,” Gail said.

They began in the clearing's part where the house once sat, this time digging everything when the detector went off.

Mary and Frank drifted away, walking through the trees and looking around. They came to a pile of rocks.

“This was a corner marker of the property,” she said. “I’m surprised it’s still here. It says we’re in the right place. She and I stood just about where we now stand, and looked at it.”

“It’s getting late,” Frank said. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

“They should be done. Then we will go. If they have found much, we may all be carrying some of their discoveries.”