The Innocent

by Ann H. Gabhart

  “Naw, Sheriff. We was just funning a little.” Harold twisted his hat in his hands. “Not that the poor feller being burned up in a fire was anything to fun about. And I hear they lost horses too. Guess as how we should go back to talking about the widow woman.”

  “Yes sir.” Billy shot a grin over at Mitchell. “She is a looker. A pure shame her being out there with those Shakers.”

  “A pure shame.” Harold echoed as he followed Mitchell out of the barbershop.

  Words that echoed in Mitchell’s heart too as he headed toward the livery stable. A pure shame for sure. But there was nothing he could do about it. Except wait and hope that eventually she would know her husband’s fate. Eventually she would be ready to give love another try. His job was to keep her safe until then.

  Something about the fire and now Curt Whitlow being missing had the hairs on the back of his neck rising. He’d learned to pay attention to that feeling while he was fighting in the war. It didn’t always mean something bad was about to happen, but then again, sometimes it did. Sometimes it gave him just enough warning to duck behind a tree or keep his head down. But this time the worry wasn’t so much for himself as for Carlyn.

  He shook his head. He was as bad as Billy and Harold, letting his imagination run away with him. Thinking bad things without the first bit of evidence. The fire was arson. No doubt of that. But he had absolutely no proof that anybody intended Brother Henry to die in the fire. Or any evidence that Curt Whitlow had anything to do with it.

  The man had been in the Shaker village. He’d had an argument with Brother Henry. Those were the facts. Bare as they were.

  He didn’t have any facts about Carlyn either. None that he wanted to have. She was married to Ambrose Kearney. Whether he was alive or dead might never be discovered. Whether she would ever leave the Shakers and embrace a new life, a new love, was something he couldn’t know. Wanting it didn’t mean it would happen.

  It was time to stop dreaming about what might be and think about what was. He was a sheriff charged with upholding the law. The law dealt in facts, not maybes. The facts were she had given him her dog, not her heart. And he hadn’t even been able to hang on to the dog, but maybe he could find him.

  Another one of those maybes. They seemed to be haunting his thoughts lately. Maybe the Shaker fire covered up a murder. Maybe Curt Whitlow was away on business, whatever business that was. Maybe Carlyn’s husband had been killed in the war. Maybe the Shakers didn’t want him to ask questions just because he was of the world. Maybe he was foolishly in love with a woman who had given him absolutely no indication that she might welcome his feelings. Could be that last wasn’t a maybe, but a big mistake. Maybe he should just go dog hunting.

  The house was deserted, sitting lonesome on its little bit of land. Leaves were drifted up on the porch against the door and a spiderweb draped down from the corner post. The dog was nowhere in sight. Mitchell got off his horse and walked around to the back, but if the dog had come here, he’d moved on when he didn’t find Carlyn.

  Mitchell stood in the yard and listened. Nothing disturbed the day’s calm except the distant caw of a crow. A burst of wind rustled through the maple overhead and brought down a rush of yellow and red leaves. After the wind settled again, he whistled and called. It was a waste of breath.

  The silence surrounded Mitchell again. The day was half over and so far he’d found out absolutely nothing. No trace of Curt Whitlow or of the dog. Could be he should go on back to town and wait for a lead to surface. It would eventually. Whitlow had to come home sometime. While Mitchell chased whispers in the wind that might or might not mean anything, his other duties were being neglected.

  He mounted his horse and turned back toward town. The sound of the Shaker bell drifting across the fields stopped him. This close to their village, it would be a waste not to go see if the Shakers had discovered anything new that might help Mitchell figure out who had set the fire. Catching those who committed crimes was the most important part of his duties.

  Besides, the dog might have tracked Carlyn down. If so, he needed to get the dog. If she would let him have Asher again. But what other choice would she have? The Shakers weren’t rule benders. If they had a rule against dogs when she first went to the village, they still would. Carlyn would need him to take the dog.

  He liked the thought of her needing him, even if it was only for the dog. It was a connection. A reason to talk. A reason to look into her beautiful eyes. He didn’t know how he’d let himself be captivated so quickly by her when no other woman after Hilda had been able to penetrate his defenses. Carlyn hadn’t even tried. She’d simply stood in her doorway, holding a gun, and stolen his heart. He needed to get to know her better to see if the way he felt was real or simply a fantasy.

  The Shaker elders might not let him talk to her again, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make sure their paths crossed in the village. He knew which house she was in. And the last time he was there, Elder Derron had sent a sister to the washhouse to summon her. He could watch for her there. Wait for a chance to talk to her without the old sister hovering around her.

  Whether he got to talk to her or not, it would be good to see her, to ease his mind about her safety. He had no real reason to think she wasn’t safe there. The Shakers were a peace-loving people. They spoke against any kind of strife or conflict with their fellow man. Yet, a man had died in a fire intentionally set. Only hours after Carlyn had seen him arguing with Curt Whitlow, and now he couldn’t find Whitlow. Things didn’t add up and Mitchell had the uneasy feeling more trouble was brewing.

  He urged his horse into a faster trot.

  29

  By the time Carlyn got back to the Gathering Family House, her empty bed and that of Sister Berdine’s had been discovered. The sleeping room was in an uproar. Sister Edna was demanding answers. Carlyn heard her strident voice before she reached the top of the stairs. Any semblance of peace had fled.

  Carlyn pulled in a deep breath and turned the doorknob. Shocked silence greeted her. Even Sister Edna seemed at a loss for words.

  Sister Alice recovered her voice first. “My sister, are you hurt?”

  “Nay,” Carlyn murmured, only then realizing how she must look with Asher’s blood streaking her skirt and her hair uncombed and uncovered.

  That’s what Sister Edna noted first. “Where’s your cap, Sister?”

  Carlyn pushed her hair back from her face. “It is not lost. I did not think to put it on after Sister Berdine woke me and asked me to go out in the night.”

  “Sister Berdine woke you?” Sister Edna’s voice was disbelieving.

  Sister Marie spoke up. “I told her that is what happened, but she would not believe I saw Sister Berdine kneeling by your bed to awaken you. She thought you had enticed Sister Berdine into wrongdoing.”

  “Nay.” Carlyn wanted nothing more than to sink down on one of the beds, but such would not be allowed. “Sister Berdine has left for a new life.”

  “She went in the night by herself?” Sister Edna frowned over at Carlyn. “Our Sister Berdine?”

  “She did not go by herself. A brother from one of the other houses went with her. Brother Payton.”

  “Nay. I do not believe it.” Sister Edna recoiled from Carlyn’s words. “Not Brother Payton. He has long been a devout Believer. Why would you lie about such a thing?”

  “Why indeed?” Carlyn met her eyes. “Can we not wait for confession until after our morning duties and breakfast? I need something to eat since I missed the meals yesterday.”

  “Whose fault was that if not your own, Sister Carlyn?” Sister Edna said.

  “It is my fault that I missed the meals, but that doesn’t keep me from being in need of food today. I don’t think I will be able to properly do my washhouse duties without eating first.” Carlyn felt empty of food and of energy. “Haven’t you told me that a complete Shaker needs to care for her body?”

  Sister Edna’s eyes narrowed on her. “It is not for you to quote
Shaker truths at me. You would do well to remember your place as a novitiate.”

  “Yea.” She had no energy for argument.

  Sister Alice dared Sister Edna’s wrath by asking again, “Are you sure you are not hurt, Sister Carlyn? That appears to be blood on your skirt.”

  Carlyn looked down at her dress. “Not my blood.”

  Before she could say more, Sister Edna gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “Mother Ann in heaven, protect us.” All the color drained from her face and she looked faint even as she reached and grasped Carlyn’s arm. “Pray, tell me no one else has died. If so, I will forever be sorrowful.”

  “Nay, Sister Edna. It is my dog that was injured.” Carlyn spoke quickly to lessen the woman’s distress. “Sister Berdine heard the dog and came back to get me. Asher was hurt. Shot, Brother Payton said. He told me to take him to Brother Willis in the West Family and so that is why I could not return before the rising bell.”

  Sister Edna’s face went from distraught to disbelieving to angry while Carlyn talked. “You caused all this upset and ruined your dress over a dog?”

  “I have done nothing but miss a night’s sleep and soil a dress that can be put to rights with soap and water.” Carlyn refused to bend her head and give in to Sister Edna’s harsh words. “And perhaps saved a dog’s life.”

  “Who cares about a dog?” Sister Edna’s voice was rising again.

  Sister Alice tried to deflect Sister Edna’s anger. “It is not Sister Carlyn who left in the night.”

  Sister Edna glared at Sister Alice. “Would that she had. There has been nothing but trouble since she came into the village.”

  “You are not being fair, Sister Edna,” Sister Alice insisted. “Sister Carlyn did no more than help a dumb animal. It is Sister Berdine who has gone to the world.”

  “You best be silent, Sister Alice.” Sister Edna’s face was stiff and her eyes drawn as she stared around at the women watching her. “All of you. Go. Be about your duties if you want to be through in time for the morning meal.” When none of them moved, she motioned them toward the door. “Be gone with you. Now.”

  The others scooted past Carlyn, but Sister Alice still hesitated. Carlyn spoke up before Sister Edna could lash out at her again. “I am all right, Sister Alice. Only weary.”

  Sister Alice stepped near to put her cheek to Carlyn’s. “I am glad, Sister. I will do my chores as quickly as I can and come back to help you with the beds and sweeping here in our room.”

  “That will not be necessary, Sister Alice. I will assist Sister Carlyn.” Sister Edna no longer sounded angry, but her voice was firm with the expectation of obedience.

  “Yea,” Sister Alice murmured without looking at the older sister.

  After she left, Carlyn braced for a return of Sister Edna’s anger, but instead her voice was almost too calm. “Make yourself presentable. I will begin on the beds.”

  “I will hurry,” Carlyn said.

  “Hurry does naught but cause more problems. Better to take your time and do things right.” She began straightening the covers on the bed closest to her. “And don’t neglect your prayers.”

  Carlyn did as she said, sinking to her knees by her bed to silently thank the Lord that anger seemed to be gone from the room and that Brother Willis was caring for Asher.

  And I thank thee for Ida Mae. That she cared for Ambrose and kept his letter until she had the opportunity to send it to me. I asked thee for answers and thou answered that prayer. Show me what thou would have me do now and let Sister Berdine and Brother Payton find happiness in abundance.

  She didn’t ask for happiness for herself. But the Lord knew the desires of her heart even better than she did.

  When she was in a clean dress with her hair combed and tucked under the cap, she turned to Sister Edna to confess her torn nightgown.

  Sister Edna barely glanced at it. “Such is of no importance. It can be mended.” She took the broom down from the peg and began sweeping. “Would that all could be mended as easily.”

  Carlyn stared at the sister carefully sweeping out the corner behind her bed. Could this be the same woman who only moments before had so fervently wished Carlyn had run away along with Sister Berdine?

  “I am sorry to cause you distress and worry this morning.” It seemed a good time to make confession.

  “I was not worried. Worry is a sin against the providence of the Eternal Father. I was merely concerned.” She didn’t look up at Carlyn. “Now make up our former sister’s bed. I do not want to touch the bedding of one so ready to sin and run down the path of destruction. It is a great sorrow that in her deviousness, she took one of our finest brothers with her.”

  Tears pricked Carlyn’s eyes as she fluffed the pillows and pulled the covers straight. “I will miss her.”

  “You have other sisters. Loving sisters like Sister Alice.” Sister Edna rolled one of the beds aside and swept under it and rolled it back.

  They said no more then, with the only sounds the broom straws sweeping against the floor, the pillows being fluffed, and the beds shifting on their rollers as they chased down every last speck of dirt.

  When the bell rang to signal the morning meal, Sister Edna hung up the broom.

  Carlyn grabbed that opportunity to speak to her. “Thank you for helping me with my morning duties, Sister Edna.”

  “That is what sisters do. Help one another. Surely you have been among us long enough to note that.” Sister Edna reached for the doorknob to go out in the hall, then hesitated. “I will expect to hear your confession tomorrow after you have had time to consider your wrongs.”

  “Yea,” Carlyn murmured.

  “And I will have need to confess my angry words earlier.” Sister Edna turned and looked directly at Carlyn. She reached to adjust Carlyn’s cap and straighten her neckerchief. She seemed to have to force out her next words. “Also, I would be remiss not to warn you, Sister. I fear there are forces of evil at work within our village.”

  “You mean Brother Henry’s death?”

  “Yea, that and other things. I would not want you wandering out in the night and being overtaken by that evil. So vow to me that you will wake me if you feel it necessary to leave the sleeping room prior to the rising bell.”

  “I don’t think I will be slipping out in the night again. I only went last night at Sister Berdine’s insistence.”

  Sister Edna winced at the sound of the Sister Berdine’s name. “Do not avoid making the vow of obedience I ask of you. It is my duty to see to your well-being.”

  “Very well. I promise.” It was easy to say the words, for if she decided to leave the village, she would not wait until night, but leave in the light of the day.

  “I trust you will keep your word even though there have been times when you have not had a close relationship with the truth.” She didn’t wait for Carlyn to respond but turned back to the door. “Now let us line up for the eating room and give our bodies the necessary nourishment.”

  Carlyn followed Sister Edna out into the hallway. The woman was a mystery. First angry and stern. Next weary and distraught. Then helpful and concerned. Odd as it was, Carlyn thought she preferred the stern Sister Edna. She knew her. She did not know this sister who warned her of evil in the night. Then again, should she remain in her kinder moments, she might allow Carlyn to slip away from her washroom duties to see how Asher was doing.

  That didn’t happen. The stern Sister Edna was back in control and would consider no departure from the duties of the day. “You have caused enough upsets for one day because of that dog. Best you should dwell on ways to show kindness to your sisters rather than a dog.”

  Carlyn didn’t argue with her, but she did consider coming out of the Gathering Family House after the midday meal and walking to the West Family barn instead of back to the washhouse. But she didn’t. Brother Willis had seemed kind. Asher would be all right in his care. Sister Edna was right. Carlyn had caused a great deal of consternation already. This day she could p
ractice obedience to the Shaker way.

  Even so, her feet wanted to escape the path of duty. She wouldn’t be able to slip away after night to check on Asher, for she had made a promise to Sister Edna. Whether she wanted to follow all the Shaker rules or not, she did want to keep her word.

  The morning had passed at a snail’s pace with the drudgery of load after load of clothes to sort and wash and hang to dry. Inside the washhouse the noise of the machines and sloshing water closed out everything else as Carlyn pushed through the chores. Outside was better. The sun was shining and the gentle sounds of nature were like a salve on her weary soul. The cows out in the field. The cackle of the hens. The breeze in the trees and the music of the birds. Even the low murmur of the other sisters as they talked while they hung up the wet clothes and took down the dry ones was comforting though it made her miss Sister Berdine.

  Why hadn’t she told Carlyn she was leaving? Perhaps she would have if Carlyn had not disappeared into the woods after reading Ambrose’s letter. She didn’t have the letter with her now. She’d stuffed it in her mother’s Bible for safekeeping. She didn’t need to read it again. Ambrose’s words of love were stored in her heart. Even before the letter came. Just as she had been grieving Ambrose long before she read the words of his death.

  Was Sister Berdine right that Carlyn needed courage to reach for a new chance to love instead of burying herself here with the Shakers?

  Out on the pathway, a group of children walked by. Several of the sisters around Carlyn stopped their labor to watch the children, perhaps with the same desire Carlyn was feeling to have one of those young hands clasped in her own. Or perhaps they were searching for sight of their own children they had given over to the Children’s House when they came into the Shakers.

  Sister Alice had children. She had pointed them out to Carlyn once in the schoolyard. Two boys, seven and eight, and a girl, twelve.

  “Wasn’t it hard to give them up?” Carlyn had thought of how she had wept over Asher. She could not imagine the sorrow of turning a child over to someone else.