“I’ve found stuff. Not the actual treasure, but other things,” Olive said. “Actually, I brought you a present.” She went and got her backpack, unzipped it, and pulled out the rusty old ax head. “I found this the night before last. It was over at the other end of the bog, near where Hattie’s house used to be. I’ve found lots of stuff over there—a few old coins, a cast-iron pot, nails and hinges, and a horseshoe. But this ax head is way cool, isn’t it?”

She got an image from one of her recent nightmares: hacking at her mother with an ax.

Please take it, she thought now, feeling queasy. I never want to see this thing again.

Helen reached out, took the rusted metal ax head. “It sure is.”

“I bet it was hers,” Olive said. “I bet it was Hattie’s.”

“You could be right,” Helen said, looking it over. “I’m no expert on ax heads, but it certainly looks very old.”

“So old the wooden handle rotted away. It’s a hewing ax. You can tell because of the wide blade on the head. I looked it up,” she said, and Helen smiled at her.

“I bet Hattie used it to shape the logs when she built her little house,” Olive said.

Helen nodded.

“I want you to have it. I thought maybe you could clean it up, sharpen it, get a new handle. You’ll have a nice ax for splitting kindling and stuff. Maybe you can even use it to help you build your house. Shape a piece of lumber or something. Like Hattie did.”

“Are you sure?” Helen said.

“Absolutely,” Olive said.

Helen leaned over and hugged her. “Thank you, sweetie,” she said. “It’s an amazing gift.”

And being there, held tight in Helen’s arms for two seconds, gave Olive a sudden jolt of happiness, of comfort.

“You okay?” Helen asked, and Olive realized she was close to crying.

“Fine. Totally.” But she wasn’t fine. Anything but. “Just thinking about Hattie.”

“What about her?”

“How happy she’d be to know that someone had her old ax and was going to fix it up and use it again. It’s almost like…I know it might sound weird, but it’s like bringing a little piece of her back to life in some way. Does that make sense?”

Helen nodded. “Yes. It makes perfect sense. And I agree completely.”

CHAPTER 35

Helen

SEPTEMBER 12, 2015

Helen soaked the ax head in vinegar overnight to loosen the rust, then went to work in the morning, cleaning it with a wire brush and sandpaper.

She and Nate had decided to take the weekend off from building.