The Saddle Creek Series 5-Book Bundle. Shelley Peterson

money he left me when he died, I converted the barn into this theatre. Call it my own form of revenge, if you like.”

      Watching Mr. Wick as he spoke, Abby saw the young man under the old farmer’s face. She felt his hurt, his turmoil over his father, and his great love for the theatre.

      “Why did you laugh so hard just now?” Abby gently asked. She didn’t want him to laugh again, or to cry, but she wanted to know.

      He paused before he answered. “Because I have become my disguise. We all wear disguises, Abby, in one way or another. You made me see myself as you see me, and that’s not what I am underneath.”

      “That wouldn’t make me laugh, Mr. Wick. It sounds kind of sad.” Abby examined her dirty, chipped fingernails. “And anyway, now that you’ve revealed your true self to me, I’ll always see you differently.”

      “Will you? Good. You should always look for the person under the disguise, Abby.”

      Abby nodded, wondering how many people had disguises. “Can we get back to the ghost? Is he friendly?”

      “Absolutely. He keeps me company when I’m here and I always know where to find him. If he wants to be found, that is.”

      “Don’t tell me,” said Abby, excitedly. “Second row from the back, second seat in, on the right side of the theatre when you stand on the stage looking into the seats.”

      Mr. Wick stared. “You’ve met him? He showed himself to you?”

      “Yes! Well, I didn’t see a person, really, only a sort of a light.”

      “Then you have a special quality, Abby. Ghosts know.” His eyes reassessed her as he spoke. “And it’s called stage right.”

      “What is?”

      “The right side of the theatre. When you stand on the stage and look out into the house—that’s what you call where the audience sits—what’s on your right is called stage right, and what’s on your left is called stage left. And when you’re in the middle of the stage, you are standing at centre stage.”

      Mr. Wick walked up to the stage and climbed the stairs. He stood in the exact middle of the stage. “You see? I’m at centre stage. If I go back a step or two, I’ve gone upstage. If I step forward, like this, I’ve moved downstage.” Mr. Wick stepped as he spoke, illustrating with his actions. He swung his right arm out.

      “Stage right.” He swung out his left arm. “Stage left. Upstage, downstage, centre stage.”

      Abby was transfixed. As she watched, Mr. Wick turned from a farmer into an actor. Not a sloppy actor, either. His motions were economical, his voice was clear and well-modulated, and his bearing made even this rudimentary lesson in stage direction fascinating. His farmer’s clothes were the same. What was different was underneath.

      “If you upstage someone, that means you’ve forced an actor to look back at you by standing upstage. If his face isn’t visible to the audience, his importance in the scene is diminished. Ham actors are often guilty of this.” Mr. Wick illustrated this by becoming the upstager, and then the upstaged actor, looking away from the audience.

      Cody’s head popped up from under a seat on the other side of the house, where he’d been hiding. He let out a low, rumbling growl of warning and bared his long, white canine teeth.

      “Your coyote scares me, Abby,” said Mr. Wick softly as he backed away toward the stairs.

      “Don’t worry. He’s like your ghost. You have to get to know what he’s all about. What he’s saying now is that someone is coming. And whoever it is is cautious and creeping around, making Cody suspicious.”

      “So, Cody himself is no threat?” asked Mr. Wick as he cautiously moved off the stage and back to his seat beside Abby. “He’s not angry?”

      “No, he’s being protective.”

      “Good. So now we must find out who’s creeping around.”

      “Right,” said Abby. “Why don’t I turn off the lights, and we’ll wait for him to come to us. We’ll have the advantage of surprise.”

      “You are one brave girl, Abby Malone,” said Mr. Wick admiringly. “With a great sense of the dramatic.” He chuckled with pleasure. “I like your plan.”

      Abby crept quickly over to the wall with the light switches and turned them off. The theatre was immediately pitch black. Abby felt her way back to sit beside Mr. Wick. They waited.

      Hilary saw the lights go off. She had been about to open the door, but now she waited, unsure of what to do. It was windy and she was starting to chill in her wet clothes. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the thumb latch. The door opened. Now what? It was very dark inside, with the windows covered in thick black fabric.

      “Hello?” she called feebly. “Hello? Abby?” Hilary called out louder with each word she uttered. She was gaining confidence, since nothing had sprung out at her. Yet, she thought.

      Abby called out. “Who’s that?”

      “Me. Hilary James.”

      “Hilary? Mousie?”

      “Yes. Is that you, Abby?”

      “Yes! Just a minute, I’ll get the lights. Don’t move or you might stumble.” Abby was at the switch within seconds and the theatre was bathed in light. “That’s better, isn’t it?” she said, grinning.

      “Much better. Thanks, Abby.”

      The two young women smiled at one another. In the two years since they’d last met, Abby had grown taller and filled out. They were the same height now, and of similar builds.

      “It’s good to see you,” said Abby. “It’s been a while.”

      The older girl nodded. “Since the steeplechase, I think. Just a minute, what is this?” Hilary took in her surroundings. She looked around, amazed. “Holy! The old theatre! I heard about this when I was a kid.”

      “Yes!” confirmed Abby. “Oh, and this is Mr. Wick, the man who owns it.”

      Mr. Wick had risen from his seat and was making his way up the aisle to the girls. He put out his hand for Hilary to shake.

      “Robert Wick,” he said.

      “I’m Hilary James. Pleased to meet you,” said Hilary as she took his hand.

      “I’ve heard all about you, young lady. You and that sensational beast of yours. You made us all proud.” His blue eyes glittered in his smiling face. Abby could see that it was sincere praise.

      “Thank you,” said Hilary. “I’ve heard about you, too. From my grandmother, Joy Featherstone.”

      Robert Wick blushed. “Well, I’ll be. Joy Drake. She’s talked about me?”

      Hilary grinned. “She said you were the one that got away.”

      “She didn’t! Well, that’s nonsense. She turned my head from the moment I spied her. She was a little young for me, that’s all. I was in my last year of high school when she started grade nine.”

      “Four years difference doesn’t seem much now, though, does it?” commented Abby slyly.

      “You stay out of this,” said Mr. Wick. “You girls are ganging up on me. It’s not fair.”

      They all laughed, happy to share a joke and ease the tension.

      “Now that the threat of a monster is over, girls, I must be on my way. The rain seems to have stopped, so you can get home dry.” He looked fondly at Abby. “It was nice to see you again, Abby.”

      “I feel like I’ve met you for the first time, Mr. Wick.”

      He smiled. “I guess you have, too.” He turned to Hilary. “Take care of that horse