Mamaw Bea couldn’t help her. Muggins couldn’t help her. Her feet felt itchy as though she needed to get up and run and run. She could run to the Shaker village. Sister Faye wanted Leatrice to be one of her sisters. She’d smile and get her a dress with an apron and a cap to wear on her head. They’d cut off her hair to make it fit.
Sister Faye had told her that the first day when Leatrice asked why everybody’s hair was so short. “So our caps will fit and we can get ready faster in the mornings without having to comb tangles out of our hair. It’s a better way. A best way.”
Leatrice’s hair was always a mess anyway. Flopping in her eyes when she was running. Like she wanted to be doing now. Running. Maybe if the Shaker village was too far, she could just run away to the back pasture to live with Sebastian. The horse that killed her mother. The horse didn’t do it. He had bucked or so Mamaw Bea told her, but nothing that her mother couldn’t normally handle. It was just one of those bad things that happened sometimes.
Nobody wanted it to happen. Nobody made it happen. It just did. That was different from what that woman was doing. Leatrice was glad Papa had warned Grandpa about the tonic. She stroked the kitten to make him start purring again.
“What are you doing out here sitting on the cold ground?”
Papa’s voice made her jump. She hadn’t seen him come out of the barn to dump the leavings from the stalls. She tried not to look guilty as she answered him. “It’s not cold. The sun’s warm against the barn.”
He stepped over beside her and put his hands on his hips. “You’re right. Before you know it, summer will be on us.”
“Is that when the Shakers have school?”
“I think they may be having school right now. You want to find out?”
“I don’t want to leave you, Papa.”
He looked down at her. “You heard us talking, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “I didn’t aim to. I was just playing with Muggins here by the barn.”
“I see.” He looked worried that she was going to cry or something. “You’ll like the new place once I get the house fixed up. Until then you can go to the Shaker school.”
“But what about her? She might do something bad to Grandpa.”
“You heard that too, huh.” Papa pressed his lips together a minute before he reached for her. “Come here, sweetheart.”
She scrambled up, still holding onto the kitten, and leaned against Papa.
He stroked her head the way she’d been stroking the kitten. “I think it might be better for Grandpa and Miss Irene if we’re not here. And Grandpa is right about you not being able to tell what that was you saw the other day. Could have been some kind of herb.”
“I guess so.” She swallowed hard and must have squeezed Muggins too tightly. The kitten squirmed away from her and landed on the ground on all four feet. He crawled through a narrow opening in the rock foundation of the barn and was gone. Back to the loft, Leatrice hoped. She pulled in a breath and pushed out her next question. “When do I have to go?”
“Soon.” Papa sounded like the word was hard for him to say. “But it won’t be for long. Just a few weeks until I get the house down the road fixed up.”
“Will you come to see me?”
“Of course I will. Whenever I can.”
“I love you, Papa.”
He picked her up then, the way he used to when she was little, and even though she was big now, he held her as easy as she had held the kitten. “And I love you more than all the stars in the sky, my little one.”
Leatrice looked up at the sky where a few fluffy clouds floated in the blue. “I don’t see any stars.”
“But they are there. Always there the same, nighttime or day, as I’ll always be there for you wherever you are.”
20
Those first days with the foundling and Anna Grace were draining. The poor baby boy seemed unable to calm for more than a few minutes, night or day.
“Because the poor soul knows he was deserted,” Sister Genna said. She was a godsend anytime she was in our retiring room. Even though I held him and nursed him, he seemed to rest best when she cuddled him and whisper-sang songs that had nothing to do with Shakers.
I was excused from every duty except cleaning our own retiring room and hemming new blankets and diapers for the babies. I ate the meals Sister Helene brought to me and took care of the babies. Our room had turned into a nursery.
“I am not sure how long the Ministry will allow this.” Eldress Maria looked concerned on that first day. I thought not because she no longer wanted the babies here, but because she did. She even had a rocking chair brought to our room. While we had to squeeze the beds closer together to make room, we did not complain.
The chair was a blessing. One even Eldress Maria enjoyed when she came to see that I was doing all I should during the daytime while the other sisters were about their duties. More than once with pretended irritation, she picked up Anna Grace when she was fussy while I was nursing the baby boy and settled in the rocking chair that I surrendered over to her. I happily sat in one of the straight-back chairs as I diligently kept my eyes away from the eldress, for I knew she didn’t want me to see a tender look on her face. But it was there. I had glimpsed such a look now and again but acted as though I didn’t. Babies had a way of softening even the sternest hearts.
Sister Helene was the one who insisted we wait no longer to name the boy. “You named Anna Grace the minute she was born. This poor child is at least two days old and without a name. Brother Baby just will not do.”
I had to smile at her on that second night while she took her turn rocking him. We were all thankful Anna Grace slept between her feedings.
“He does need a name.” Sister Genna took the baby from Sister Helene and whispered words into his ear that none could hear but the babe. He stopped whimpering to listen.
“Whatever do you say to him?” Sister Ellie asked.
Sister Genna smiled. “Words only he can understand.”
“Well, tell him to be quiet when it’s my turn to hold him.” Sister Ellie yawned and lay down on her bed. “I almost fell asleep while hanging out sheets today.”
I looked over at her. She did look tired. “Why don’t you go on to sleep? I’ll take your turn tonight.”
“Nay. Who can sleep anyway with the candles still lit and sisters talking secret words to babies. Next, Sister Helene will be singing ‘Come down Shaker life’ to him.”
“A good song for him.” Sister Helene stood up. “Do you want to rock him, Sister Genna?”
“Nay, I like walking, although one has to be careful to stick to the path between the beds.” Sister Genna cradled the baby against her shoulder and found the one free path across the room. “I am amazed that Eldress Maria has not sent Sister Darcie to the Children’s House.”
“She doesn’t want to,” I said.
“You must see a different Eldress Maria than I do.” Sister Genna glanced over at Sister Helene. “Sorry, I don’t mean disrespect. It’s just that she never sees need to bend any rule.”
“Rules should not be bent,” Sister Helene said. “A bent rule means nothing and breaks the unity of spirit we must have.”
“Yea, Sister Helene.” Sister Genna acted as if she agreed, but both Sister Ellie and I knew better. Still, her yea was best for the peace of our room. She switched the subject. “I think you are right about naming this sweet bundle too. And since you found him—you did, didn’t you?”
“Yea. Poor little one was left on our washhouse steps.”
“Did you have washhouse duty?” Sister Genna was prodding, but Sister Helene didn’t seem to realize that.
“Nay. I simply happened to see the babe lying there, or at least I saw the bundle and did not know what it was. But it wasn’t as it should be. We do not leave rags on our doorsteps. Everything has a place.”
“It matters not how she saw him.” Sister Ellie jumped in before Sister Genna could say more. “What matters is that she did and b
rought him to Sister Darcie. Such good fortune that Sister Darcie can nurse him along with Anna Grace.”
“And that Eldress Maria and Sister Lettie allowed me to do so here with you three to help,” I said. “But what about his name, Sister Helene? What would you choose for him?”
Sister Genna had calmed the baby as only she could. She laid him on her bed and pulled the blanket back away from his face. “Here, let us all take a good look at him to see what fits him best.” She glanced over at Sister Helene. “Tell us what you think first, Sister Helene.”
“A Bible name would be best.” Sister Helene studied the baby. “Perhaps Moses who was put in a basket and left where a princess could find him.”
“Not Moses.” Sister Genna shook her head with firm decisiveness. “None of us are princesses. Think of something else.”
“Very well. Moses does seem a big name for one so little, and the Egyptian princess gave Moses that name because she rescued him from the water. That is what his name meant.”
“You rescued him from the washhouse.” Sister Ellie grinned. “Somewhat the same, but I agree that Moses isn’t our baby’s name. What do you think, Sister Darcie?”
“I don’t know.” I said that, although I knew if I were allowed to choose, I would have named him Walter without hesitation. Still, it was better to let Sister Helene decide, since she might never have another opportunity to name a baby if she stayed on the Shaker path, as she seemed determined to do.
Sister Helene breathed out a long sigh. “I want his name to be one that will serve him well as he grows up here in our village to perhaps become a faithful leader.”
Sister Ellie spoke up quickly to keep Sister Genna from speaking against that. “That could happen, but if so, it will be many years from now. Think of a name that will be good now while he is a babe in arms and for when he is a grown man. Perhaps a name of one of Jesus’s disciples. John. Matthew. Philip. Andrew. Simon. Peter.”
“Nay.” Sister Helene frowned a bit. “Good names all, but not right for our little brother.”
“Perhaps we should let you consider it overnight and decide in the morning.” The retiring bell had already rung to signal the need to extinguish our candle and at least try to sleep. We were becoming expert at maneuvering in the room with no light other than whatever moonlight slipped in through the window.
Anna Grace was chiefly my responsibility to comfort during the dark hours since her cradle was by my bed, although this or that sister helped if she was colicky. But with the new baby, things were as they were at first with Anna Grace. Each of us sacrificed sleep to keep him quiet.
“Wait. I have the perfect name,” Sister Helene announced. “When you think of brothers, you think of Jacob’s sons, and his youngest and most beloved son was Benjamin.” She reached to caress his cheek with her fingertips. “Our beloved Brother Benjamin.”
“Benjamin it is then. Baby Benjamin.” Sister Genna picked up the baby again.
“A good name.” Sister Ellie waited until Sister Genna was in the rocking chair and both Sister Helene and I were in bed to snuff out the candle. “A very good name.”
“Yea.” I yawned, glad to have the name picked. “Wake me when he is ready to eat, Sister Genna.”
I was more than ready to settle down on my pillow. Soon enough I would need to wake and nurse one of them. I waited until Sister Helene was in her bed before I curled on my side to keep her from reminding me that lying on my back was the proper Shaker position for sleeping. I thought it best not to keep reminding her I wasn’t a proper Shaker. I rather doubted any of us in this room were, except for Sister Helene herself.
Sister Ellie did attempt to follow the rules. She claimed it was a simple thing to remember which knee to bend first in prayer or which foot to properly step up onto the stairs. She never carried her handkerchief in the wrong hand and dutifully attended to the silent prayers demanded in the morning and evening and before and after every meal. I had no problem with the prayers. I needed extra prayer time to beseech God for a way out of the Shaker community.
Sister Genna had no patience for the Shaker way and defied their rules with abandon. She nodded when Sister Helene reminded her of the proper Shaker way to go about one’s daily routine, but as often as not, would then step with the wrong foot up onto the stairs or wear her cap a wee bit crooked. She did kneel for the morning and night prayers but confided that she sometimes silently said a nursery rhyme instead of a prayer.
When I asked if she did not believe in prayer, she assured me she did.
“I don’t pray only when the Shakers decree I should go down on my knees,” she said. “Instead I carry prayers in my heart and mind all through the day. Prayers for Jeremy, and I ask the Lord to help me endure my time among these odd people until Jeremy returns to rescue me. I pray for you.” Her face had gentled. “And for Anna Grace. That the Lord will let you continue being her mother.”
“I will always be her mother,” I said.
“You will. I should have said that the Lord would keep the Shakers from trying to change that with their ridiculous rules.”
Ridiculous rules. I thought of her words now as I tried to block out the creak of the rocking chair and snatch an hour of sleep before time to nurse Anna Grace or newly named Benjamin. How did I, like Sister Genna, end up in the middle of these people? Odd, as Sister Genna said, but good, as Sister Helene continually said.
Granny Hatchell used to say the Lord had a purpose to everything. That even when things went their worst, the Lord could turn it into something good. Perhaps the something good of Walter’s death and me trapped here in the village was that little baby Sister Genna rocked back and forth as she crooned in his ear. I could feed him, give him a chance at life. Whether he grew up to be a Shaker leader or if he ran from the village as soon as he was old enough mattered not. I merely had this day I’d been given by the Lord to do whatever needed to be done. I might not be able to look ahead without a tremble, but I could look forward to the next time one of these needed feeding and feel blessed to be a mother.
On the third day, Eldress Maria said I must start going back to the Children’s House to take my meals. While this had been easy enough to do with only Anna Grace, it presented some problems with two infants. I didn’t think it comfortable or even safe to put both the babies in the wrap. Benjamin was so tiny still.
But one thing I had noted about the Shakers. They were very inventive. If there was a better way to do something, then someone among their number would find that way. Sister Lettie had foreseen my need and had one of the brothers working on the solution before Eldress Maria said I could no longer eat my meals in our retiring room. By then, after two days of being confined inside our small room other than trips to the privy during the daylight hours, I was ready to venture out again, even if it was only to the silent eating room of the Children’s House.
On my hurried trips to the privy, I had left the babies safely ensconced in their cradles. This day when I returned, I found Eldress Maria in our room, holding Anna Grace and rocking Benjamin’s cradle.
“We can’t let their crying disturb the whole house,” she said, even though all the sisters and brothers had gone to duties outside the house except those working in the kitchen or basement, where I doubted they could hear the babies on this second floor.
“Yea, I thank you for your kind consideration.”
“These little ones are so blessed,” she said. “They can spend their whole lives in our society with nothing but peace and love around them. They will never be assaulted by the tribulations that lurk outside the confines of our village.”
“Do you never have troubles here?” I took Anna Grace from her and put her back in her cradle. It was her sleepy time, and I suppose my curious time as I dared to question the eldress. I did not believe no trouble ever visited the village, for I was here among them and troubled about the future. Plus I saw the discontent of Sisters Genna and Ellie. We were surely not the only ones doubting the Shaker way as
a permanent path for us.
“None that can’t be handled by obedience to the rules which unite us in love and peace.” She sounded sure of her words as she peered down at Benjamin, who was fussing while fighting the air with his tiny fists. “He is so very small.”
“Yea, but he is growing. Last night he slept for a good stretch without any of us holding him.” I picked him up. “He’s ready to nurse.”
I left the neck kerchief in place but scooted my dress down in front. I kept it unfastened in the back to ease offering my breasts to the babies. I turned away from the eldress, for she seemed uneasy watching the natural act of a baby nursing. I suppose she might never have seen such, since she was young when she was brought to the Shakers. Plus my baby was proof I had, as the Shakers claimed, committed the sin of matrimony. Not a sin Eldress Maria had to confess.
When the eldress tarried in the room, I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Would you like to hear my confession while he nurses?” With the birth of Anna Grace and now the addition of Benjamin to our room, the normal routine had been upset. Weeks had passed since I had spent time in the small office where the eldress heard confessions.
“Do you have wrongs you need to confess?” She stepped over to stare out the window. The sun shone through the glass to brighten the white of her bonnet.
“Perhaps merely the sin of curiosity.” That wasn’t my only sin, but the only one I chose to name for the eldress. The desire to leave the village that burned within me would be unforgivable.
She didn’t look around. “So what questions bother your mind, Sister?”
“I wonder about your life with the Shakers. Have you never thought of any other way to live?” I expected her to condemn my question, but she did not. Instead she continued to stare out the window until I wondered if she’d heard me.
The Refuge Page 16
