The Innocent

by Ann H. Gabhart

  Sister Edna pursed her lips, refusal obvious in her frown, but Elder Derron intervened.

  “Let the young sister tell the sheriff what she saw, Sister Edna.”

  Carlyn moistened her lips as she glanced toward the older woman and then at the elder. Mitchell worried he might be making trouble for her, but he did need to hear her story firsthand. She shot a look toward him and then stared back down at her hands. As though she suddenly realized she was gripping them too hard, she unfolded her hands and placed her palms flat on her apron. Her fingers danced up and down nervously.

  Mitchell wanted to reach across the space between them and take those hands in his. Lend her some of his calmness. At the same time, he had to wonder what was making her so nervous. He didn’t want to think she was involved in something wrong, but it was plain she wasn’t eager to tell what it was she knew. At least to him.

  Elder Derron leaned forward in his chair toward Carlyn. “Sister, it is getting late. It would be good for you to tell your story so that we can be about our duties and the sheriff can be about his.”

  A little of his earlier nerves sounded in the elder’s voice. The fire had upset them all. Mitchell leaned back in his chair. He could wait. That generally brought out the story quicker than did peppering a reluctant witness with questions.

  “Take your time,” he told Carlyn.

  She looked up then and lifted her chin a bit as she began talking. “It is as Sister Edna said. I was meeting with her to confess my wrongs and Sister Edna suggested I give my behavior more thought. I know she didn’t mean for me to do so if it meant not paying attention to my duties, but that is what happened. I let my thoughts blind me to my proper path back to the garden. Then I heard men talking, and because there was no one else around, I feared they would think I was doing something improper.” She looked at the elder. “Sister Edna has impressed upon me that I should guard against being a temptation to the brethren.”

  “As is only proper.” The elder nodded.

  “What do you mean a temptation?” Mitchell knew what sort of temptation she was to him, but the Shakers didn’t have normal ideas about such feelings.

  Color rose in Carlyn’s cheeks and she was so slow to speak that the other woman jumped in with the answer first. “She’s pretty. That can be a problem for some among the brethren who have not fully embraced the Shaker way.” Sister Edna glared at Mitchell. “I have no doubt that you, being of the world, understand exactly what I mean.”

  “Come, Sister Edna.” Elder Derron held his hand out toward Sister Edna. “We are not here to judge the sheriff. We are merely here to let Sister Carlyn tell what she saw.”

  Sister Edna turned her frown on the elder, but he pretended not to notice as he said, “Please continue, Sister Carlyn.”

  Carlyn once more moistened her lips as though her mouth were too dry. “I stepped back against the chicken house out of sight of the men. I had already realized I was on the wrong path, but I hoped to find a way to the garden without backtracking. I had seen the barn and that’s how I knew where I was.”

  “The barn that burned?” Mitchell asked.

  “Yes.”

  It felt something like a victory to hear her answer without the Shaker yea, however foolish that was. “So then what happened?”

  “The men’s voices got closer.” Suddenly the color that had been in her cheeks drained away. “They appeared to be arguing.”

  “And did you recognize Brother Henry as one of the men?”

  “I did not know Brother Henry. I haven’t been here long. But you know that.” She flashed a look up at him and then at the elder. “Anyway, Sister Edna later said it was Brother Henry after I came back out on the main path and stumbled into her.”

  Mitchell looked at Sister Edna. “So you saw the men as well?”

  “Nay, only Brother Henry. I did not see the man from the world.” Sister Edna’s voice carried distaste. “I feared Sister Carlyn had arranged to meet this man since she knew him, but when I said as much and she looked near to fainting, I realized that was not the case.”

  “What man?” Mitchell asked, but he knew before Carlyn answered. He knew from the way her hands trembled and she had to summon her voice from some place it had gone to hide.

  “Curt. Curt Whitlow.”

  19

  Carlyn hadn’t wanted to say Curt Whitlow’s name. She didn’t want to even think his name. None of what happened had anything to do with her. It was a mere coincidence that she saw Curt arguing with Brother Henry. Nothing more.

  Even so, speaking the man’s name aloud to Sheriff Brodie made it sound too odd. Of all the people in the village, she was the one to stumble across Curt Whitlow. A coincidence, she reminded herself. But then her mother said coincidences were sometimes the Lord’s invisible hand at work. Could it be that Carlyn was meant to be on the wrong path so she would overhear the argument?

  But why? If it was to save Brother Henry, she had failed miserably in that. Or perhaps she wasn’t the one who’d failed. She told Sister Edna about Curt. Sister Edna said she’d tell the Ministry, the two eldresses and two elders appointed leaders of the community. They lived in isolation with no contact with the rest of the village.

  “That’s so they can be impartial when they make judgments.” Sister Berdine had pointed out the windows of their rooms one day when they passed the Meeting House. She kept her voice low as though worried she might be overheard. “They live up there over where we have church. They’re supposed to be wiser and holier than everybody else.”

  “Have you ever seen them?”

  “Only their eyes.” When Carlyn looked puzzled, Sister Berdine explained. “In those peepholes above the doors in the Meeting House. They watch to be sure no one misbehaves during the worship.”

  “Misbehaves?”

  “You know. Starts jigging to a different tune than the Shaker one. No waltzing around the rules allowed.”

  There was always someone watching. Even here, especially here in Elder Derron’s office, eyes were staring at her. Sister Edna’s. Elder Derron’s. Sheriff Brodie’s.

  “The man you saw arguing with Brother Henry was Curt Whitlow?” Sheriff Brodie’s voice held a measure of disbelief.

  Carlyn pulled in a slow breath and raised her eyes to look at the sheriff. “I have no reason to lie about that.”

  Sister Edna spoke up. She lacked Sister Muriel’s gift of silence. “The young sister has a propensity to bend the truth, but I have yet to know her to lie outright, Sheriff.”

  Carlyn ignored Sister Edna and kept looking at the sheriff. “I would not lie to you.” She wanted him to believe her. With Sister Edna glaring at her and Elder Derron staring down at the floor as if the sight of her was painful, she needed to think the sheriff was a friend and not someone suspecting her of wrongdoing.

  “Forgive me, Mrs. Kearney.” Sheriff Brodie met her eyes. “It wasn’t that I doubted your word. I am just surprised that Whitlow was the man you saw.”

  “That is not so surprising,” Elder Derron raised his head to say. “We have had dealings with Mr. Whitlow in regard to properties in the area and he has purchased things from us on occasion. He may have been asking Brother Henry about a horse.” His voice turned somber. “Brother Henry was an excellent horseman. He will be sorely missed.”

  “Yea,” Sister Edna added. “But let us get back to the business at hand. You have established that Curt Whitlow was the man Sister Carlyn saw talking with Brother Henry, Sheriff. You can question him about his purpose here.” She started to stand.

  “Leave if you want, Sister Edna, but Mrs. Kearney will have to stay. I have a few more questions for her.” Sheriff Brodie’s voice was calm but firm.

  “Nay. Sister Carlyn is my duty. I will not leave until she leaves.” Sister Edna huffed out a breath and lowered herself back down in her chair. “So get on with whatever you want to ask.”

  The sheriff didn’t seem bothered by Sister Edna’s irritation. Instead he smiled when he turned his
eyes back to Carlyn. She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling back at him. She could not help liking the sheriff, but it would be better if Sister Edna did not guess that.

  “Were you close enough to hear what the men were saying?”

  Carlyn hesitated. The day before, she hadn’t been completely truthful with Sister Edna about what she had heard. The woman would note that if Carlyn answered the sheriff honestly, but how could she do any differently? Carlyn managed to conceal her sigh. She would pay for what Sister Edna would consider bending the truth.

  “I couldn’t hear everything. Brother Henry’s voice was so low I only heard some of his words.” Carlyn stared down at her hands that she once again gripped so tightly her fingers ached.

  They waited for her to go on, but when she stayed silent, Sister Edna poked her arm. “Get on with it and tell the man what you heard. Don’t you remember?”

  “I remember,” Carlyn whispered.

  “Take your time, Carlyn.” Sheriff Brodie leaned forward in his chair and didn’t seem to notice he’d spoken her given name again.

  “Actually I don’t remember every word exactly. But the Shaker—that is, Brother Henry—was talking about someone else who was going to be upset about whatever Curt wanted. Then he told Curt he didn’t know what he was doing. But Curt said he knew exactly what he was doing and that they had a deal. He said nobody went back on a deal with him without paying a price.” Carlyn hated the tremble she heard in her voice. She took a breath. She had no reason to fear Curt Whitlow now, but it had been obvious that Brother Henry feared him or perhaps the other man he mentioned.

  “What did Brother Henry say then?” Elder Derron spoke up. “Be sure you answer rightly, Sister.”

  “He started to say something, but Curt cut him off and told him it was too late to claim a conscience.” Carlyn looked up at the elder, who was obviously distressed by Carlyn’s words casting suspicion on the brother he admired. A brother who was dead and could not defend himself or explain the words she’d heard. It could be they wouldn’t believe her.

  She let her eyes slide over to Sister Edna, but the sister wasn’t looking at her. Instead she was watching Elder Derron, perhaps to see if he was going to allow Carlyn to continue speaking against their departed brother. The elder leaned his face in his hands as though suddenly weary.

  “Did you hear more?” Sheriff Brodie asked.

  Carlyn nodded and pulled in another breath. It seemed wrong to speak ill of the dead. “Curt told him to tell the other person what he said and Brother Henry said, ‘He won’t like it.’”

  “He?” Elder Derron raised his head out of his hands. “Did he give a name?”

  “Nay. Curt said he, whoever he was, shouldn’t have made the deal and that’s when Brother Henry said it was a deal with the devil.” Carlyn looked at Sister Edna. “That’s what I told you. That they spoke of the devil.”

  “But you heard much more you did not reveal to me.” Sister Edna twisted her mouth in disapproval.

  “Forgive me, Sister, but I didn’t want to think about Curt Whitlow or talk about him.”

  “Wrong is wrong however you try to excuse it.” Sister Edna narrowed her eyes on Carlyn, then the sheriff, and last the elder. She seemed to see wrong in them all.

  “So what did Whitlow do then?” Sheriff Brodie asked.

  “He laughed. I think he liked that the brother was afraid of him.” A tremble was in her voice again. The sheriff would think she had no courage at all. She swallowed hard and went on. “I tried to slip around behind the chicken house without them seeing me, but two hens squawked and gave me away.”

  “Did he recognize you? Whitlow, I mean.” The sheriff leaned toward her again.

  Carlyn paused to think. “I don’t think so. I kept my face turned away and my Shaker dress looks the same as any sister’s. Brother Henry called to me, but I pretended not to hear. That’s when I ran back to the other pathway and met Sister Edna.”

  “Met me? You almost knocked me over,” Sister Edna said.

  “Yea, I was not watching as I should.” Carlyn breathed out a small sigh that brought a darker frown to Sister Edna’s face. Carlyn didn’t care. She was weary of Sister Edna and questions and all of it.

  She’d come here to disappear among the sisters and find the peace they claimed in their village. She felt anything but peaceful now, but she had little choice except to continue along the Shaker path and do as they told her.

  Work with her hands and give her heart to the Lord. That she could do. And answer their questions. That she must do as well to help the sheriff find those responsible for the fire and Brother Henry’s death.

  “So what did you tell Sister Edna?” Sheriff Brodie asked.

  “I’ve already told you that,” Sister Edna said.

  “Please, Sister, allow Mrs. Kearney to answer.” Again the sheriff held his hand out to silence Sister Edna.

  Carlyn was sorry he didn’t use her given name again. Calling her by her married name seemed to keep her at a distance when she so desperately needed a friend. Elder Derron and Sister Edna might claim to be her friends, even a sister and a brother, but she felt no warmth from them. Sister Edna made no attempt to hide her disapproval, while the elder’s mind appeared to be miles away as he stared down at his fingers spread out on his knees. Carlyn was tired of being alone.

  Carlyn’s mother’s words slipped into her mind. I will always be with you, my daughter, whether I am near or far, but even better you can count on the Lord to ever be with you.

  As a child she had no trouble believing that, but somewhere along the way, she had lost the freshness of her faith. She still believed in the Lord. Of course, she did. But she was no longer a child, innocently expecting her every prayer to be answered as she wanted.

  But have you reached for the Lord in prayer? She blocked her mother’s voice from her mind. She could pray later. Now she had to answer the sheriff’s questions. It was expected of her no matter how weary she was.

  “Sister Edna demanded I tell her where I’d been. As she said, she suspected that I had purposely strayed down the wrong path, but I had not. While it is true I didn’t tell her every word I heard, I couldn’t see what that mattered since the words were confusing.”

  “That was for me to judge. Not you,” Sister Edna said.

  “Yea, I realize my wrong now.” Carlyn unclasped her hands and smoothed down her apron. “So I told her I heard them arguing and that Curt was the man I owed money to on my house and that I was surprised to see him there in the village. Very surprised and also concerned he might have come looking for me.”

  The elder roused himself from silence. “Why would he do that, Sister? We paid your debt.”

  “I wasn’t thinking clearly,” she said.

  “It is true that Mr. Whitlow is a hard man with whom to deal.” Elder Derron spoke almost as softly as Carlyn. “And then did you return to your duty in the gardens?”

  “Yea, after I answered Sister Edna’s questions. She said she would need to report what I’d seen to the Ministry after she talked to Brother Henry.”

  Sheriff Brodie sat back in his chair, seemingly content to allow the elder to ask the questions.

  “Did you do that, Sister Edna? Did you talk to Brother Henry?” The elder’s eyes went to Sister Edna.

  The woman lifted her chin and met his look directly. “I did.”

  “I see.” Elder Derron stared back down at his hands.

  The sheriff broke the odd silence between the elder and Sister Edna. “What did he tell you, Sister Edna?”

  “He told me I had no reason to be concerned. He assured me he would take care of the problems the man from the world was bringing to the village. He wanted to know which sister had been upset by their words so that he could apologize to her.”

  “Did you tell him?” Sheriff Brodie asked.

  “Nay. I thought it unnecessary, as I could tell Sister Carlyn myself that she had no reason to be concerned.” Sister Edna shot
a look at Carlyn. “I had not yet had the opportunity to talk with Sister Carlyn about the matter. The fire took precedence.”

  “And proved that thinking there was no reason to be concerned might have been premature,” Sheriff Brodie said.

  Sister Edna turned to the sheriff. “The words between Brother Henry and the man she knew had nothing to do with our sister. It is for you to discover if this man had anything to do with Brother Henry’s unfortunate passing.”

  “So it is.” Sheriff Brodie sat forward again. “You can be sure I will talk to Mr. Whitlow, but first, I need whatever answers I might discover here.”

  “You are here to question Sister Carlyn, not me,” Sister Edna said.

  The elder raised his head to look at Sister Edna. “We are none of us on trial, Sister Edna. The sheriff is simply trying to find out what happened. You have said you talked to Brother Henry. So has the Ministry been informed?”

  “I’m sure they know all that’s happened. That is their duty, but I have not offered them a report. As you know, Elder Derron, first I must speak of the matter with Eldress Lilith.”

  “As you should.” Elder Derron shifted his eyes away from Sister Edna to stare toward the window while he rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. “But worry not. Mother Ann will watch over us and make it possible to continue our work for the good of our Society.”

  “Engaged in our duties we have no reason to fear,” Sister Edna said. “In our assigned, proper duties.”

  Carlyn looked up to see if she pushed those words at her, but the woman watched the elder. Outside, the bell sounded to signal the time for the evening meal.

  Sister Edna stood. “Come, Sister Carlyn. We have told the sheriff what we know.”

  Carlyn got to her feet. She had to do what the sister said, no matter how reluctant she was to follow Sister Edna. She had thought she could be happy here. Or if not happy, then at least content. And safe. But perhaps it had been wrong of her to expect the village to supply more than her physical needs. The Shakers couldn’t give her peace. That had to come from within.