The Refuge

by Ann H. Gabhart

  “I’ll help her.” Sister Mona slipped up beside us.

  Sister Tansy looked at me. “Is that all right with you, Sister Darcie?”

  Sister Mona had not come with Leatrice to walk with me for some time, but Leatrice had just told me she had not changed her ways. My arm tightened around my daughter as I looked at the girl.

  “Please.” She reached for Anna Grace.

  “I can carry her to her cart.” Leatrice started to step in front of Sister Mona.

  I wanted to let her, to turn away Sister Mona’s offer of help. But I had been praying for the girl and something in her eyes made me know this was a time to trust those prayers. “Nay, Sister Leatrice. Sister Mona can help me today.” I let the girl take Anna Grace.

  “Very well,” Sister Tansy said. “Go, all of you, but Sister Leatrice, tell your father you must be back to your duties in an hour.” She hurried away without a backward look.

  Leatrice did look back several times when I told her to go on out to her father.

  “I don’t think she trusts me with Anna Grace.” Sister Mona propped my baby on her slim hip. Anna Grace grabbed hold of the girl’s neck kerchief. She was not concerned. She’d known nothing but kindness so far in her young life.

  “But I do.” I looked directly at Sister Mona. “And even more important, Anna Grace trusts you. See how she’s smiling at you.”

  I prayed as I led the way out the door and down the steep concrete steps. I breathed easier after Sister Mona sat Anna Grace in her wagon seat. I fastened the straps and stepped back to let Sister Mona take the handle.

  “Did you think I would drop her?”

  “Nay. If I thought that, I would not have let you carry her.”

  “I could have dropped her.” Sister Mona pushed the wagon along beside me.

  “But you did not.”

  She had a sly look as she peered over at me. The girl was almost as tall as I, but wafer thin. “Would you have cried if I had?”

  “Yea, I would be very upset if my daughter got hurt. I love her very much.”

  “My mother loved me very much, but she died. Now nobody loves me.” She looked over her shoulder back to where Leatrice was with her father and grandfather. “I wish she would go away. I don’t like her.”

  “Why?” I shifted Benjamin, who squirmed in his wrap. Cries were sure to follow.

  “Everybody loves her. Her father and grandfather. Sister Janice. Sister Tansy. Not Sister Corinne. She doesn’t like anybody.” She made a face and then looked over at me again. “But you love her.”

  “I do. Why do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know.” Sister Mona shrugged a little. “Maybe because she is pretty.”

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with how she looks.” I wanted to say the right thing to help Mona. “You are as pretty as she is. Especially when you smile.”

  Sister Mona stopped walking and touched her face. Then she narrowed her eyes and stared at me. “You’re just saying that. You don’t really believe it.”

  “I don’t say things I don’t believe.” I wasn’t lying. I did think with her light blue eyes, taffy-colored hair, and nicely shaped nose and mouth she had every chance of being a very pretty woman.

  “My mother used to tell me I was pretty. Before she died.”

  “Losing her must have been really hard for you.” I kept my voice soft.

  “Well, no need whining and moaning about it now. I’ll get by.” She had her fierce look again. “I don’t care whether anybody likes me or not. Maybe I’ll grow up to be like Sister Corinne. She’s not pretty at all.”

  As she started pushing Anna Grace again, I wanted to take the handle from her, but I didn’t. I did start walking right beside the wagon. Anna Grace was sucking on her fingers.

  “I told you being pretty isn’t what makes people like you. Being nice matters more. Much more. And liking other people. Besides, I’m sure Sister Corinne is loved by sisters here, and Jesus loves us all. You. Me. Sister Corinne.”

  “My mother used to say that. Jesus loves you. Jesus loves everybody.”

  “Your mother knew.”

  “Maybe he loved me then. Nobody loves me now.” Her face closed up. “That’s the way I want it.”

  I stopped and looked directly at her. “That’s not true. You are loved. By Jesus. By me.”

  “You’re lying.” She jerked the wagon handle sideways and turned it loose.

  Anna Grace let out a frightened cry. If I hadn’t been close enough to grab the wagon, it would have toppled over on the rock walkway.

  With wide eyes, Sister Mona stared at Anna Grace crying, then looked at me. “Do you still love me?”

  Benjamin began wailing too as he always did when Anna Grace cried. I stooped by Anna Grace and caressed her face to let her know she was all right. I wouldn’t be able to completely comfort Benjamin until I had him back in the room and out of the wrap. I had no idea how to comfort Sister Mona, but she seemed the one most in need of love at that moment.

  I looked up at her. “I don’t like what you just did, but I do still love you.”

  I was a little surprised that I meant it. But I had been praying for the child, and those prayers had put love for her in my heart. My words made her even angrier.

  “I don’t believe you.” Mona’s hands were in fists.

  I was in a vulnerable position squatting beside Anna Grace, but I didn’t move as I continued to look at Mona. “Whether you believe it or not doesn’t make it any less true.”

  She shoved me then, knocking me down on my backside. Again her eyes widened before her face crumpled as she spun around and ran away.

  I shut my eyes and whispered a prayer, but I couldn’t go after her. I had to care for the two babies the Lord had given me. “Hush, Anna Grace. You’re all right. Come, I’ll push you now.” I scooted nearer to her and kissed her forehead.

  She sniffled, rubbed her eyes, and once more sucked on her fingers. Benjamin continued to wail. I was struggling to stand with Benjamin’s weight pulling me down when strong hands lifted me up.

  Once I was on my feet, Leatrice’s father looked down at me with concern. “Are you all right?”

  “I am fine. Thank you.” I patted Benjamin’s back to calm him as best I could and stepped away from the man. I worried what those Shakers I knew might be watching would think of the man helping me.

  He stared after Sister Mona. “Is that the same girl who worries Leatrice?”

  “She’s a troubled child,” I said. “She needs someone to love her.”

  “Don’t we all.” He turned back to me, his face looking as lonely as I suddenly felt.

  “Yea, we do.” I took the handle of Anna Grace’s wagon and began on toward the Gathering Family House.

  “Do you need help?”

  “Nay. The house is not far.”

  He seemed to realize I was uneasy with him so near me. He couldn’t know the reason had nothing to do with him but only with those who might be watching. I continually worried that some misstep I made would hurry the decision to take Anna Grace from me.

  “I can send Leatrice to help you.”

  “Really, I can manage. I care for the two of them all the time.”

  “Your Anna Grace is a beautiful baby,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at Anna Grace. He was looking at me.

  I was captured by his eyes. “Your Leatrice is a beautiful girl too.”

  It was good Benjamin began kicking against me to bring me back to my senses. I smiled and turned to hurry on to my room. I did not look back, but I had the feeling he watched until I went up the steps and through the door of the house.

  30

  What was he doing? Staring after a Shaker sister like a lovesick calf. No wonder she practically ran away from him up the steps into her house. Even carrying two babies. That was a big load for such a small woman. A fragile-looking woman. But looks could be deceiving.

  “Was Anna Grace all right?” Leatrice tugged on his sleeve. “And
Sister Darcie?”

  “They were both fine. The other baby was crying.”

  “Baby Benjamin cries all the time,” Leatrice said. “He stops sometimes when I sing to him.”

  “I remember you told me that once before.” Flynn smiled down at her and took her hand. “What do you sing?”

  “Silly songs I make up or one of the Shaker songs. Some of them are pretty silly too. ‘Sweep, sweep and cleanse your floor.’” She pretended she was sweeping as she sang the words and then giggled. “And some of the others don’t have any words that make sense. ‘Qui quaw ka treen.’ I don’t know what it means, but it sounds kind of fun and it makes Baby Benjamin stop crying.”

  She looked toward the house the sister had gone into. “I should have helped Sister Darcie. I knew Sister Mona would do something mean.”

  “Don’t look so worried. Sister Darcie said she was all right.”

  “I like Sister Darcie,” Leatrice said. “She’s so nice. I don’t want her to leave like her sister friend did.”

  “Oh? Is she planning to leave?”

  “Someday, but it’s a secret. I wasn’t supposed to tell anybody. But she said you would probably come get me first.” Leatrice looked up at him. “Can I go home with you now? I know how to read.”

  “You’ve learned everything?”

  “Not everything, but you promised I wouldn’t have to stay here forever.”

  “And you won’t. A couple more weeks.”

  Her bottom lip jutted out as she blinked back tears.

  “Two weeks isn’t so much, is it?” When she shook her head sadly, he went on. “Is that girl Mona bothering you?”

  “She tries to, but I don’t pay any attention to her.” Leatrice frowned. “But she shouldn’t have tried to hurt Anna Grace.”

  “Maybe it was an accident.”

  “She pushed Sister Darcie down on purpose.”

  “It did look like it, but Sister Darcie didn’t seem angry about it.”

  Leatrice raised her shoulders and lowered them with a big sigh. “She wouldn’t. She’s the one who said we should pray for Sister Mona back when I got in trouble for throwing a shoe at her. Remember? You said you would pray too. Did you?”

  He did remember. He’d even said a prayer or two for the girl before it had slipped his mind. “I pray more for you. Do you pray for Sister Mona?”

  “Maybe not the right way. I just pray she’ll leave me alone.” She looked down. “Sister Darcie probably prays better for her and look what Sister Mona still did.” She blew out a long breath. “Sister Darcie says it’s because Sister Mona thinks her father doesn’t love her. So maybe I should pray she could have a papa like you. Or a grandpa. She might not be so mean then.”

  “That could be. Right now, we better head over where your grandpa is so you can tell him goodbye. I need to go finish getting that house fixed up.”

  “Can I take the kittens to the new barn?”

  “If you can catch them, you can take them.” Flynn put his hand on her shoulder and turned her toward where Silas waited. “Your grandpa says the mama cat looks ready to have more kittens.”

  “I can take those too.” She smiled and clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait to see Muggins again.”

  Flynn started to let that slide. Maybe she would think one of the other kittens was Muggins. But a father shouldn’t lie to his daughter. “I guess I should have told you, but Muggins must have eaten something he shouldn’t have. Your grandpa found him dead out by the woodpile.”

  Leatrice’s smile disappeared. “She poisoned him, didn’t she?”

  “We don’t know that anybody poisoned anything.” That wasn’t a lie. He didn’t know. Not for sure. Who knew what the kitten had eaten?

  “Can’t Grandpa make her go away?”

  “I’ve told you that when somebody gets married, it’s a forever promise. As long as you both are alive.”

  “Grandpa doesn’t want to be with her forever.”

  “That’s not something you can decide,” Flynn said. “Now hush. We aren’t going to talk about it where he can hear us. Miss Irene is his wife and we have to respect that.”

  “Yea, Papa. If you say so.”

  She ran on ahead then to give Silas a hug. Her saying the Shaker yea sounded strange to his ears. It shouldn’t have. She’d been here with them all through the summer. But now she’d asked to come home. Twice. He wasn’t going to leave her here through the winter. Two weeks. Maybe sooner.

  If Irene didn’t forget poison and just shoot them both when she found out about Silas and him swapping farms.

  After another round of hugs, Leatrice ran up the Children’s House steps, turned to wave, and then disappeared through the door.

  “It’s been good for her to be here,” Silas said. “She’s learned some discipline.”

  “She has.” Flynn mounted his horse.

  Silas followed suit and let his horse walk up beside Flynn’s. “I like it here. I’m thinking on joining up with them once we get the farms switched. I wouldn’t want to have to hand over my farm to the Shakers. Like I said, that one’s yours, but this other one would be fine.”

  Flynn reined in his horse to look over at Silas. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Not at all. I’m not as young as I used to be, but I like gardening and fooling with cows. I’m guessing they could use some of that kind of help. And the eating is good.”

  “I don’t think Irene will go along with joining up with the Shakers.” Flynn let his horse start walking again.

  “That could be.” Silas smiled over at Flynn. “Another problem solved. I’ve heard tell that when one spouse joins up with the Shakers but the other one doesn’t want to, that one can get a divorce in the courts easy as pie. Should work out fine if I put some money in her pockets before I head over here.”

  “You can’t join the Shakers just to get rid of Irene.” Flynn frowned over at him.

  “I don’t see why not. And I wouldn’t be getting rid of her. She could come with me. Be Sister Irene. Dance a few Shaker jigs.” Silas swayed back and forth in his saddle as though hearing music. “I might even get a little spirit in my feet to do some Shaker dancing too.”

  “I can’t believe you’re serious.”

  Silas’s smile disappeared. “I’m tired, Flynn. I messed up marrying Irene. We both know that. This is a way out that seems right to me. These Shaker folks believe in the same God I do. Maybe in a little different way, but I like how they say ‘hands to work and hearts to God.’ No problem believing that right along with them.” His smile came back. “And they know how to cook.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Well, that’s fine. You don’t need to say anything.” Silas raised his eyebrows at Flynn. “At least not to me, but maybe you should think up something good to say to the pretty little woman with the babies.”

  Flynn scowled at him. “She’s a Shaker, Silas.”

  “Unless I miss my guess, I don’t think that lady has embraced the Shaker way. But she might think about embracing you.” Silas laughed and flicked his reins to move ahead of Flynn.

  Flynn kept his horse walking the same pace. He didn’t know what to say to that either. But he did look back over his shoulder toward the Shaker village and hoped he’d see that pretty little woman with the babies again.

  When I got to our retiring room, I told myself not to go to the window, but my feet didn’t listen. I put Anna Grace down on her pallet and hurried to look out. My gaze rested on Flynn Keller hugging Leatrice and then walking her back toward the Children’s House.

  “Walter, forgive me,” I whispered.

  There was no denying I was attracted to the man and his kindness. Walter had been gone for almost a year. Not long enough for me to be thinking of another man. My heart was heavy as I turned from the window to nurse Benjamin. Poor little baby. His face was red and damp with his tears. I gently wiped them away and put him to my breast.

  A mother has time to ponder while fe
eding her babies, and as Benjamin suckled my breast, I thought of my Walter. “Oh, Walter, I thought we’d grow old together.”

  Across the room, Anna Grace had rolled over and over again until she was no longer on the pallet. She rubbed her hands over the floor as though liking the feel of it. Each new thing was a wonder to her and to Benjamin too.

  As I stroked the soft hair on Benjamin’s head, my guilty feelings eased. New discoveries lay in wait for me as well. I would always mourn Walter and the years together we lost. But life went on. These two sweet babies proved that. Ellie’s leaving proved that. Even my attraction to Flynn Keller was a sign of change. And change was life.

  That didn’t mean Leatrice’s father was attracted to me, even if his eyes had seemed to dwell on my face. That could have been my attraction to him playing tricks on me. It didn’t matter anyway. He had his life. I had mine. He would soon fetch Leatrice home and I might never see them again.

  That thought made me so sad, I turned my mind away from it. I could bear no more sadness on this day. Ellie gone. Mona running away from me. I might have been that child like Mona after my mother died if not for Granny Hatchell. Every child needed someone to love her or him.

  “Dear Benjamin,” I whispered as he dozed off in my arms. “We don’t know your story, but you are loved. Ellie loved you. I love you. Sister Genna loves you the most of all.”

  That seemed odd when I was the one nursing him, but Sister Genna had taken the baby boy to her heart from the very first day as if she had borne him. After I put him in his cradle and situated Anna Grace back on her pallet so I could do the sewing I had been assigned, I realized I had not included Sister Helene when I named those who loved Benjamin.

  I threaded the needle and began stitching the skirt seam. But of course, Sister Helene loved the babies too. She took her turn rocking them and dressing them, but she did surrender them with much eagerness when they began to cry. She worried they cried because of something she did when they merely needed a change, a burp, or an extra cuddle.