The Refuge

by Ann H. Gabhart

  “That must have been Sister Corinne.” The other girl stepped up behind Leatrice. The girl didn’t lack much being as tall as Sister Darcie, who watched from the walkway, still smiling. “She’s the one who tells everybody what to do. Sister Tansy does too, but that’s just us and not somebody like you from the world.”

  Saying he was from the world sounded odd to Flynn, as though when he came into the village he entered some different realm. He supposed the Shakers thought that was true. He grabbed his horse’s reins and looped them over a tree branch, then turned back to Leatrice. “So who is your friend, Leatrice?”

  Leatrice didn’t look particularly happy. “Sister Mona. She sleeps in the same room I do.”

  “Sisters perhaps, according to Shaker rules. Friends, well, that might be more difficult.” The girl tapped her cheek with one of her fingers. “Definitely more difficult.”

  “Mind your manners, Sister Mona.” Sister Darcie spoke sharply to her. “You need to come back over here with me.”

  The girl looked at Sister Darcie. “Sister Tansy said I had to stay with Sister Leatrice. So I could help her if she got in trouble.”

  “You’d be the one to get me in trouble,” Leatrice muttered before she looked up at Flynn. “Spending the day together is how Sister Tansy is punishing us.”

  “Not a punishment, dear sister,” Sister Mona said. “It’s to make us love one another. The way we should as sweet, loving sisters.”

  “Seems to lack some working.” Flynn gave the girl a steady look. “You best do what Sister Darcie says. Leatrice is going to stay with me for a few minutes.”

  “She’ll get in trouble if she misses the morning meal. Even more trouble than she’s in now.” Sister Mona stepped directly in front of Flynn. “She threw a shoe at me, you know.”

  Flynn considered the girl. She was definitely trying to needle Leatrice. So he smiled. “Sometimes a person just needs to throw a shoe at something.”

  Leatrice giggled. “Sister Darcie said the same thing.”

  “Did she?” Flynn smiled over at the woman. “We must think alike.”

  “So we must.” She returned his smile. “Of course, throwing shoes is not encouraged here in the village. A great many things are not encouraged here in the village.” Her smile slipped away as she cuddled the baby in the wrap next to her chest. But the wails of another baby came from the basket.

  “Did you have twins?” The woman looked too small to handle two babies.

  “Oh, nay.” She laughed. “This is my baby, Anna Grace.” She pulled back the wrap to show a baby sucking on her fingers. Then she pointed at the basket. “And this is Benjamin. Someone left the poor foundling on the Shakers’ doorstep.”

  “What’s a foundling?” Leatrice asked.

  “A baby nobody wants.” Sister Mona did an odd little twirl. “Something like me, except I’m not a baby.”

  “This baby is loved and wanted now,” Sister Darcie said. “The same as you are loved here in the village, Sister Mona.”

  Sister Mona did another twirl. “You’re just saying that because you think you should, but nobody loves me. I like it that way. But what about Sister Leatrice? Does her father love her enough to take her home?”

  “That is not for you to ask, Sister Mona.” Sister Darcie grabbed the girl’s arm as she spun close to her. “You come with me.”

  The girl tried to jerk free, but Sister Darcie held her tight. She was obviously stronger than she looked. The baby in the basket wailed louder.

  “You can’t make me go with you.” Sister Mona’s eyes narrowed to slits as she stared at Sister Darcie. “You can’t hold on to me and push that baby wagon too.”

  “You’re right.” Sister Darcie looked calm as she let go of Sister Mona. “That’s why you are going to push the cart.”

  A sly look crossed the girl’s face. “But what if I hit a bump and the wagon turns over?”

  Leatrice ran to get between the other girl and the cart. “I’ll push Benjamin.” She looked back at Flynn. “I’m sorry, Papa, but I have to take care of Benjamin.”

  “Yes, you do.” Flynn wanted to grab Leatrice and hug her again. He started to step closer, but with how the Shakers were so diligent about keeping men away from the sisters, he stopped. He didn’t want to cause trouble for Sister Darcie. She looked as proud of Leatrice as he was.

  “Thank you, Sister Leatrice,” she said softly. “Benjamin will appreciate your care in pushing him, but I’m sure Sister Mona would have reconsidered her thinking.”

  Flynn was surprised to see a gentle look on the sister’s face as she looked at the other girl. He wasn’t feeling gentle toward her at all, but then she was just a young girl. Who knew what sort of troubles she’d had to land her here in this place?

  “Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn’t.” Sister Mona lifted her chin defiantly. At the same time she did trail along behind Leatrice as she pushed the cart up the walkway.

  Sister Darcie glanced back at him as she followed them. “I’m sure if you come ask the sisters at the Children’s House, they will permit you to visit Leatrice. If you have time to wait until she eats. Sister Mona is right. The Shakers are very strict about mealtimes.”

  “I’ll wait all day if I must.” As Flynn untied his horse to trail along behind them, he couldn’t help but be curious about how she had spoken of the Shakers as though she were not one of them.

  Leatrice wolfed down her food, then couldn’t stop fidgeting. She wanted everybody to eat faster. Her father was waiting for her. When they first came inside, Sister Darcie told Sister Tansy that Papa was here. Leatrice kept quiet to listen. She was worried when Sister Corinne came over to hear what Sister Darcie was saying.

  “He’s not planning to take her away, is he?” Sister Corinne asked.

  “That would be something you would have to ask him.” Sister Darcie swayed the basket back and forth to keep Benjamin from crying.

  Leatrice wanted to step closer to sing to him, but Sister Corinne wouldn’t like that. Not while they were supposed to be silent. Best not to do anything to upset her and make her want to send Papa away.

  “Was he waiting for her out on the road?” Sister Corinne didn’t sound pleased.

  “Nay. He rode into the village as Sister Leatrice and Sister Mona were helping me with the babies on my walk here.”

  “Yea, the babies.” Sister Corinne’s frown got fiercer. “I don’t know why you gave the children permission to accompany Sister Darcie, Sister Tansy.”

  “She needs help.” Sister Tansy sounded the way she sometimes did when talking to Leatrice and the others in their retiring room. Kind. Comforting. “And it makes the young sisters feel useful. They are useful, are they not, Sister Darcie?”

  “Yea. Very.” Sister Darcie didn’t look around at Leatrice, but Leatrice had the feeling she knew she was listening. “Especially Sister Leatrice. She has a way of making Benjamin stop crying.”

  “That baby must have the colic.” Sister Corinne rubbed her forehead and looked at Sister Tansy. “How long has Sister Leatrice been here?”

  “A week today,” Sister Tansy said.

  Sister Corinne sighed. “I did agree to let her worldly father wait only one week to come back to see her. I suppose I can’t deny his visit now. Very well, she may miss the morning school session, but she will have to do extra work to make it up to Sister Josephine.”

  Leatrice hurried back into line before Sister Corinne noticed her eavesdropping. When Sister Mona tried to block her, Sister Janice made room. But now she was stuck in the eating room while everybody kept eating and eating.

  At last Sister Corinne held up her hand to signal they should all stand and then kneel beside their chairs for a silent prayer.

  Dear Lord, thank you for Papa coming. Thank you for Sister Darcie and Sister Janice. Help me to not throw my shoes at Sister Mona. Amen.

  Out in the hallway, Leatrice was glad to see Sister Tansy pointing Sister Mona toward the schoolroom.

  Leatrice w
anted to run outside, but she kept her feet under control. She didn’t want to get in trouble with Sister Corinne. Not today.

  As she followed Sister Darcie out the door and down the steps, Baby Benjamin started crying. Leatrice looked out at Papa waiting in the shade for her, but she had to help Sister Darcie.

  “I’ll sing to him while you fix his basket on the cart.” Leatrice leaned over the baby in the basket and sang words she made up. “Sweet little baby, don’t you cry.”

  “Thank you, Sister Leatrice, but he is fine. Really. Babies have to do some crying.”

  “But he likes me to sing to him.”

  “He does, but your father is waiting for you.” Sister Darcie glanced at Papa coming toward them, leading his horse.

  “Papa can walk with us while I push Benjamin. He won’t mind.” Papa was close enough to hear her then. “Will you, Papa?”

  “Will I mind what?”

  “Walking back to Sister Darcie’s house so I can push Baby Benjamin.” Leatrice grabbed the cart handle.

  “I don’t mind at all.” He walked along beside them. “Where’s Sister Mona?”

  “She had to go to school.” Leatrice couldn’t keep from smiling.

  “You look happy about that,” Papa said.

  “I am. She’s mean.” She peeked over at Sister Darcie to see if she was in trouble for saying that, but the sister only smiled.

  “She did seem to have a mean streak.” Papa slowed his pace to match theirs.

  The cart had wheels that rolled easy, but it bumped up and down too much if she pushed it fast. So she went slow, the same as she did on other days when Sister Janice walked with her and Sister Darcie. Then after they helped Sister Darcie carry the babies to her room, she and Sister Janice would hurry down the steps to race each other back through the village to school. With her long legs, Sister Janice always won if she didn’t pretend to have a sore foot or something.

  Leatrice wondered if Sister Mona would have raced with her. She’d win for sure. Her legs were even longer than Sister Janice’s. But then she might lag behind just to make them late and get into more trouble.

  “She didn’t behave very nicely. I admit that,” Sister Darcie said. “But the poor girl has had some hard times. Losing her mother. Thinking her father brought her here because he didn’t want her. We can’t know if that’s true. Perhaps he thought he was doing what was best for her.” Sister Darcie looked over at Papa.

  “As I did for Leatrice.” Papa’s smile disappeared. “I want her to be safe and get to go to school.”

  Sister Darcie seemed puzzled by what Papa said about wanting her to be safe. She didn’t know about that woman and her poison tonics. Maybe Leatrice would tell her someday, but now she just said, “But you promised to come see me.”

  “That was a good promise kept,” Sister Darcie said. “But Sister Mona’s father has not visited her, and whatever the reason behind her being here, the child feels deserted. That makes her very unhappy.”

  “So she tries to make everybody around her as unhappy as she is.” Now Papa was the one looking puzzled. “Not a very good way to be.”

  “Not a good way at all. Nor does it excuse her behavior.” Sister Darcie looked at Leatrice. “You must not let her torment you without complaint. Tell Sister Tansy if she bothers you. Perhaps in time her anger will lessen and she will embrace friendship here.” Sister Darcie slowed her step as though she was in no hurry to reach her house.

  “She doesn’t want to be my friend and I don’t want to be her friend,” Leatrice said.

  “That is how it seems,” Sister Darcie said. “But in the Bible Jesus tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. So maybe you and I can pray for Sister Mona.”

  Leatrice nodded without saying anything. When somebody told you to pray about something, it was easier to say you would and then maybe you would and maybe you wouldn’t. She was sorry as soon as she thought that. It sounded like something Sister Mona would say. Leatrice didn’t want to be like Sister Mona. So she would try to remember to pray for Sister Mona, but she wasn’t about to pray for that woman trying to poison her grandpa.

  “And I will too,” Papa said.

  That surprised Leatrice. She didn’t know Papa prayed. She knew Mamaw Bea did and she figured everybody here did. Except maybe Sister Mona. And the babies. They couldn’t pray.

  When they reached the Gathering Family House, Sister Darcie unfastened the belt that held the basket on and picked it up. She turned to smile at Leatrice. “Thank you for helping me with Benjamin. And if Sister Mona comes with you again, we’ll remember that she’s unhappy and we won’t let her upset us. Do you think we can do that?”

  “I don’t know.” She didn’t want to promise something that she couldn’t do.

  Sister Darcie laughed a little. “I don’t know either, but we can only try.” Then she looked at Papa who waited with his horse in front of the house. “Thank you too, Mr. Keller, for walking with us and praying with us.” She hesitated as she shifted the basket to her other arm. “And if you say that prayer for Sister Mona, say one for me too that I can stay with my babies.”

  “They surely won’t separate you from your babies.” Papa frowned.

  “In time they will. It is their way here in the Shaker village.” Sister Darcie sounded sad as her smile slipped away. Benjamin began wailing then. “My fussy little boy is hungry.”

  “Do you want me to carry him up to your room?” Leatrice asked.

  “Nay, I can manage today. Good day to you both.”

  Even after she went in the sisters’ door, Leatrice could hear Baby Benjamin crying. “She needs to sing to him.”

  Papa laughed. “So you have become an expert on calming babies.”

  “Well, only Baby Benjamin.”

  Papa stared at the closed door for a moment. “It’s nice that you are helping Sister Darcie keep her babies happy. She seems nice.”

  “I like her. She remembered me from when we saw her at the barn with the horse with the funny name. Sawyer.” Leatrice took Papa’s hand. It felt rough and strong, just the way it was supposed to. “Is Sawyer all right now?”

  “I saw him in the field when I rode into the village. He looked good.” He picked Leatrice up and sat her on his horse.

  “Where are we going? Are you taking me home?”

  “Not yet.” Papa didn’t look happy about that. “I need to do more to our new house, and I don’t think it would be good for you to come home right now.”

  “That woman is still trying to poison Grandpa, isn’t she?”

  He didn’t answer her. “Your grandpa is feeling better. He told me to tell you how much he misses you. Maybe he can come with me next time I come see you.”

  “I don’t want her to come.”

  “Don’t worry. She won’t.” Papa’s face got hard, the way it did sometimes when a horse didn’t act right. He rubbed his hand across his mouth and then was smiling again. “Let’s find a bit of shade where Brownie can eat some grass while you tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  Leatrice wanted to beg Papa to take her home. She could sleep with her kittens in the loft and stay away from that woman. But Papa would never let her do that. Besides, she hadn’t learned to read yet. And maybe if Sister Darcie and Papa both prayed for Sister Mona, she might stop being so mean. Leatrice would pray too, but she couldn’t understand why Jesus said to pray for somebody who was mean to you.

  26

  The days passed into summer. Nothing changed except the weather and how both babies grew. Anna Grace was eating soft foods as well as nursing now. Eldress Maria allowed me to go to the Gathering Family kitchen to prepare her oatmeal and applesauce. Those in the kitchen liked me coming, for I brought the babies with me.

  Someone was ever ready to stop whatever they were doing to entertain the little ones. Even Sister Reva, who had been so impatient with me while I was carrying Anna Grace. As soon as I entered the kitchen now, she reached for Anna Grace, lifted her up in
the air, and started babbling baby talk. Anna Grace rewarded her with smiles and giggles.

  “It is good to have my hands on a baby again,” Sister Reva said on a day late in July. “We should have children in every house instead of all set apart. Especially babies.”

  A different worker, Sister Alice, held Benjamin. The poor baby cried as soon as she took him, but when Sister Alice cooed in his ear, he quieted.

  Sister Reva nodded to Sister Nila, who had worked with me in the kitchen months before. “Get the gruel we made for this little one. I think he is hungry.” She looked at me. “I know you are doing your best to feed them, Sister Darcie, but two babies are a lot for one as scrawny as you. They could need more. How old is he now?”

  She didn’t mean the scrawny as an insult, just the truth. I was very thin. Nursing two babies and attending to my assigned duties of cleaning, sewing, or sometimes working in the garden while the babies slept in the shade kept me, as Sister Reva so truthfully said, scrawny. She did not look as if she had ever been scrawny. She was a fine testimony to the goodness of the food she prepared in her kitchen.

  “He is a little more than three months if Sister Lettie was right about him being only a day old when Sister Helene found him.”

  “Sister Lettie is always right.” Sister Reva announced it as if that was truth all should know. “And I am always right about food. We need to feed these babies to get them healthy before they have to go live at the Children’s House.”

  I blanched at her so casual mention of the babies being taken from me. I was continuing to pray, each day more fervently, for an answer to the blessing and dilemma of my growing babies. Feeding them porridge or gruel might make that day come faster, but Sister Reva was right. Benjamin did seem hungry, and even Anna Grace had sucked on her fingers more before I started feeding her extra food. She was five months old. Able to sit now, propped by pillows.

  Brother Jonas had fashioned a new contrivance for transporting the babies. He bolted a very small cushioned chair to a slightly bigger cart. So now I tied Anna Grace in the cart’s chair and carried Benjamin next to my heart. He cried less and Anna Grace laughed more.