Simply Dead

by Eleanor Kuhns

  Granny Rose looked around her little farm and sighed, almost as though she never expected to see it again. Then she shuttered the lantern. ‘I’ll light it when we’re safe,’ she said. Rees thought of Wootten’s loud and angry voice and nodded. The old woman took a firm hold on the mule’s bridle and they started forward.

  TWENTY-THREE

  At first the ground sloped downward only slightly but once they entered the trees the incline became much steeper. Rees could not see a path but Granny Rose walked with confidence, her hand resting lightly on the neck of her mule. They threaded their way through the trees, the tall evergreens, their needles frosted with white snow, and the bare gray trunks of the hardwoods. Rees wondered how many times she had taken this route. She, and her mule, seemed to know instinctively where to step and which way to turn even when the direction was not obvious. At one fork, he would have gone right, where the trees grew less thickly, but Granny Rose went left, down a very steep hill into a ravine.

  Although snow lay on the ground, the cliff on the left and the high wall on the right had shielded this space some and the white only dusted the stony surface. The high walls also blocked the dim light from the cloudy sky and so it was much darker here. Granny Rose pulled Job to a stop. She drew a small clay jar from her cloak pocket and used the ember within to light the lantern. The surroundings sprang into view. Rees gasped. Huge waterfalls of thick white ice coated the surface of the rock wall on the right. The ice dropped to the floor and through the narrow crevice. Shattered ice, sparkling in the lantern light, fringed that side of the rocky path. He shivered. Just knowing those huge sheets of ice coated the cliff just feet away made him feel even colder than it had above.

  ‘What do you know of Wootten and his family?’ Rees asked idly, trying to take his mind off the cold and the pain in his ankle.

  She turned on him with a finger pressed across her lips and shook her head. ‘Sound echoes,’ she whispered, tugging the mule into a walk after her.

  They followed the rocky cleft for what seemed like hours but was probably barely one. Rees took his scarf from his neck and wrapped it around his hands to form a huge wooly ball clutched upon the reins. Since the lantern illuminated a circle barely six feet in diameter, he could not see how far they had to go. When he glanced back over his shoulder he saw deep shadow broken only by a few flashes of orange where the candlelight reflected from the icy wall. The howl of a wolf penetrated the still cold air. Although, to Rees’s ears, the baleful call sounded far away Granny Rose threw a nervous glance behind her and increased her pace.

  The snow underfoot began to grow deeper. He lost the sense of walls pressing in upon him and suddenly he saw a silvery light ahead. The moon had risen and as the clouds parted it shone upon the snow with a bright white glow. Granny turned back and said, ‘We are almost at the end of this part.’ Her voice sounded hoarse, rusty with disuse.

  The cleft ended on a bare hillside that dropped into forest. Under the moonlight the shadow of Granny Rose’s small frame and Rees astride the mule floated across the white surface. His upper body appeared impossibly tall and his knees stuck out like jug handles. The stirrups, even adjusted to the longest length possible, were still too short for him. He stared at the shadow. It looked like some grotesque parody of the Holy Family on their way to Bethlehem. Rees knew he should be the one leading the mule but he also knew he couldn’t. His ankle felt swollen, the skin stretched over the bone as tightly as a tourniquet. Anyway Granny Rose, although an old woman, did not seem tired by the journey. She was not even breathing hard. She pulled on the mule’s bridle.

  ‘Come on now,’ she said. She cleared her throat. ‘I’ve known him since he was born.’

  ‘What? Who?’ Rees asked in confusion.

  She glanced back at him. ‘Your question about Josiah Wootten. I’ve known him since he was born.’

  ‘It’s safe to speak now?’

  ‘He won’t be on this side of the mountain,’ Granny Rose replied. ‘Not yet anyway. He might know of the cleft, although I doubt he does, but by the time he reaches it you should be home.’ She paused and then added, ‘We still have to fear the wolves. They don’t usually come down this far but last winter they hunted even in town. We’ll have to see how this winter goes.’ She paused. ‘What were you doing at Wootten’s cabin anyway?’

  ‘I wanted to ask him some questions,’ Rees said. ‘I didn’t have a chance before.’ Since talking about the kidnapping and the murder would be so much better than focusing upon his physical misery, he decided to take this opportunity to question Granny Rose. He recalled Lydia saying she was sure the midwife hadn’t told all she knew. But he didn’t know what Lydia had intended to ask so he thought he would tiptoe into the subject by returning to the question of Josiah Wootten. Rees said. ‘We have witnesses who say they saw him strangling the Shaker Sister. But how can I know if he’s guilty if I don’t speak to him?’ He hesitated for a few seconds and then said, ‘Do you think Wootten would travel down to Zion?’

  ‘And strangle a Sister?’ Granny Rose glanced back at him, her head tilted. Although Rees couldn’t see her face, he sensed a certain puzzlement in her posture. ‘He might go into that little village and threaten a man. But I can’t see him harming a woman. He beats those boys, to keep ’em in line, he says, but I don’t know that he ever laid a finger on his wife. I know he would never hurt me. He has a code, you see. He feels he must protect his kin – or anything that belongs to him. A fight with a man? That I can believe. But going into town and strangling an unprotected woman?’ She shook her head.

  ‘So, what happened with the shopkeeper? I mean why did Wootten attack him?’

  Granny shook her head. ‘No one really knows but gossip says that Morton was sweet on Wootten’s daughter Bathsheba. Wootten didn’t like it. Tried to warn Morton off. When he didn’t listen …’ She shrugged.

  ‘Hmmm.’ Rees thought that was interesting, especially since Morton had tried to shield the Wootten boys. ‘Would you take his protection?’ he asked.

  ‘Me?’ A gust of breathy laughter shook Granny’s frame. ‘Not me. I go wherever I please. Josiah’s protection is too suffocating for me. And, to give the devil his due, he don’t try to control me.’

  Rees mulled over her description in silence. He thought Granny Rose might be a little too kind to Wootten. Rees had heard the man slapping his boys around. Of course most parents believed that to spare the rod was to spoil the child.

  ‘He wouldn’t hesitate to brawl with you,’ Granny added warningly.

  In his younger days Rees would have taken that challenge but he had other priorities now. ‘The more he reacts by threatening me the more I wonder if he is trying to hide a murder.’ he said.

  ‘Iffen he thinks you’re trying to hurt a member of his family he’ll come after you.’

  ‘But I’m not threatening his family,’ he replied, sounding confused.

  ‘You’re not threatening Jake and Jem?’ Granny Rose asked.

  Rees hesitated. ‘Well,’ he said at last, ‘it doesn’t look good for them. They admitted kidnapping Hortense. But,’ he added more strongly, ‘I swear I am not persuaded either boy had a hand in the murder.’ He saw the movement of Granny Rose’s head as she looked back at him.

  ‘I believe kidnapping may be too strong a term,’ she said. ‘I saw that girl with Jake, oh … weeks ago. Lower down on the mountain. She seemed as interested in him as he was in her.’

  Rees could think of no response to that. He knew Granny’s comment was essentially true – both Hortense and Jake had admitted as much.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Still, Wootten’s reaction seems too strong.’

  ‘His wife, Sally, is very sick,’ Granny Rose said. ‘And there are other things.’ Her voice trailed away as they exited the forest into a clearing. Bright moonlight pierced the ragged clouds.

  Rees looked around. ‘Where are we exactly?’ he asked. He heard Granny’s chuckle.

  ‘Off the mountain. You’ll see.
’ She clucked at her mule and he moved forward reluctantly. Granny Rose might not seem tired but her mule definitely was.

  They picked their way down the slope. Since the snow was deeper here the going was much slower. But, in a short time, they arrived upon a bank of a stream. The white ice surrounding the large stones protruding over the surface looked like lace. Rees heard a faint gurgling so he guessed the water was not entirely frozen.

  He stared around, his gaze finally settling on the other side of the channel. An enormous downed tree reposed upon the ground. He stared at it, trying to pin down the elusive sense of familiarity. ‘I know where we are,’ he said suddenly. He had come this way a few days ago in his pursuit of Jake and Jem.

  ‘Yes,’ Granny Rose said with a nod. ‘We are behind your farm.’

  ‘I want to walk in,’ he said, hating the thought of Lydia seeing him riding while a woman – an old woman – walked ahead. He would be unmanned in his wife’s eyes.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘We may still meet a wolf pack. They always attack the weak and injured first and right now that’s you.’ She tugged at the mule’s bridle and they walked alongside the stream for a short distance, until she deemed it possible to cross. Rees recognized the series of fairly flat rocks that formed an icy path over the stream. Granny Rose picked her way carefully across the rime-crusted stones and easily made it to the other bank. But Job, her mule, had a more difficult time. Halfway over one of his hind feet slipped from the stepping stone. As soon as his hoof touched the thin ice over the stream, he broke through. Both Rees’s feet went ankle deep into the stream. The water underneath the thin film was running very fast. Although his booted right foot remained dry, his swollen left foot, with the boot only partially covering his foot and leg, took on water. His entire foot went numb. It was the first time since the morning that the ankle did not hurt.

  Granny clucked at Job from the bank. He pulled his foot out of the water, lurched up to the next flat stone and scrambled, half-in and half-out of the stream until he reached the bank. While he panted, Granny ran her hands over his hind leg, ‘You’re all right,’ she said at last.

  ‘Maybe I should get off,’ Rees said. Granny shook her head and took hold of the bridle once again.

  They began the climb up the snowy slope. The mule was tiring. The journey had already been a long one and now they were climbing with Rees’s heavy weight dragging the animal back. Job kept pausing to rest, blowing hard.

  Rees, who knew they were close to his farm, couldn’t wait to reach home. They were not traveling fast enough to suit him. Had Lydia waited up for him? He had been gone since early this morning and now it was approaching midnight. For the first time he wondered how she might feel. She would be frantic with worry. He pondered that for a moment and then decided, somewhat nervously, that Lydia would understand when he explained all that had happened. Surely then she would not blame him, he thought. But he didn’t believe it. His mouth went dry at the prospect of her wholly justified anger and he licked his lips. In the cold air they began to sting.

  Wrenching his thoughts away from the inevitable explosion waiting for him at home, he said to Granny Rose, ‘Tell me more about Mrs Wootten. Is she a drinker?’

  ‘Not really,’ Granny Rose said. ‘She drinks weak tea constantly. Allus has a cup in her hand. Her feet pain her and she is going blind. It is puzzling.’ She paused and then added in a lower tone, ‘I feel for her husband. She can’t work and now he has the burden of her care.’

  Rees nodded, his thoughts flying in another direction. Mrs Wootten was a dead end. ‘The boys, Jake and Jem. They must help.’

  ‘Keep up with women’s work, you mean?’ Granny Rose laughed mockingly. ‘They do no more than they must. They won’t be staying home much longer, I’ll be bound. I’m surprised they remained with their parents this long.’ Rees nodded, trying to formulate another question.

  But before he could think of one, Granny Rose said, ‘We are almost there. Do you see the light?’

  As his heart began to jump in his chest, he squinted through the trees. Both of the doors into the house faced west, on the opposite side from him. But he could see candlelight shining through a window; a beacon guiding him home through the trees.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  When Rees opened the door he found Lydia sitting at the table in the light of a fat white candle. She had dressed for bed, a blue shawl wrapped the shoulders of her voluminous white nightgown, and her braided hair lay over her shoulder. The candlelight struck flashes of gold from the thick auburn plait.

  She had in fact lit many candles; candleholders sat on every windowsill.

  She started when he limped through the door and rose to her feet with a grim expression. ‘Where have you been?’ she said, her voice rising as she moved forward. ‘You’ve been gone since yesterday morning.’ Before he could answer, Lydia burst into tears. Rees, who knew his wife scorned weeping, pulled her into his arms. She pounded on his chest for a moment before collapsing against him. He felt guiltier than ever.

  ‘I’ll see to my mule,’ Granny Rose said from behind him.

  He turned his head. ‘You must stay the night,’ he said to the old woman. ‘Please. It isn’t safe in the woods. No one knows that better than I do.’

  She did not reply as she slipped out. The door slammed shut behind her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Rees said. ‘So, so sorry. I couldn’t get word to you. I went up Gray Hill—’

  ‘I know.’ Lydia looked up into his face. ‘I mean, I guessed when you didn’t return home for noon dinner. You could have been killed.’

  Rees held her tightly. ‘I wasn’t. And after I reached Granny Rose, I was perfectly safe.’ Rees hated lying to her but it was only a little lie. He felt Lydia begin to relax. They stood in silence for a few seconds before she spoke again.

  ‘Are you hungry?’

  ‘Ravenous,’ Rees said, realizing it was true.

  Lydia pulled away and went to the hearth to stir up the fire. ‘Rouge came here looking for you.’

  ‘The constable is back from Quebec?’ Rees asked, momentarily diverted.

  ‘Yes. Apparently, he changed horses twice. And he is quite annoyed with you for questioning the Woottens without him.’ She pushed a kettle over the flames.

  ‘I talked to the boys,’ he said. ‘Not to Mr Wootten.’ The memory of his wild flight down the mountain suddenly hit him and he shuddered. At this moment, he did not think he ever wanted to climb that hill again.

  ‘What happened?’ Lydia asked. She put down the coffee grinder and crossed the floor to put a hand on his arm.

  ‘I fell off the damn mule and twisted my ankle,’ he said. ‘And there were wolves.’ She inhaled sharply.

  ‘The wolves are bad this year,’ said Granny Rose as, with a soft tap, she came through the kitchen door.

  ‘I’m heating stew for my husband,’ Lydia said to the older woman. ‘Would you like some?’

  ‘No. But a cup of coffee wouldn’t go amiss.’

  With a nod, Lydia recovered the coffee grinder. As she began turning the handle and the chopping sound filled the kitchen, Rees turned to Granny Rose. ‘Do the Woottens know of that path we took down from the mountain?’

  ‘Through the cleft, you mean?’ she asked, cocking her head at him. He nodded. ‘No, I don’t think so. Possibly the boys. But that cleft is on my land. I found it one time when I was looking for another, quicker way, to the other side of the hill.’

  Lydia brought Rees a bowl of steaming stew and put a loaf of freshly baked bread on the board. Rees cut a huge slab and slathered it with a thick layer of butter.

  ‘I have ‘t eaten baked bread since I can’t remember,’ said Granny Rose, eyeing the loaf hungrily. Smiling, Lydia brought over another plate and put it in front of the old woman. She took out her dinner knife and sawed at the bread, cutting a piece that was almost as large as the one Rees had taken.

  ‘What happened?’ Lydia asked.

  Rees shrugged. ‘You heard most
of it,’ he said. She shook her head and he knew she would not be satisfied with that reply for long. ‘What happened here?’ he asked. He took such a big bite his mouth was too full to answer any more questions.

  ‘You know Jerusha has been reluctant to go to school lately?’ Lydia said.

  Rees nodded, recalling his daughter’s tears and her claim the other girls were mean to her.

  ‘Apparently she quarreled with some of the other girls. That Babette … It became physical – I’m not sure why or how – and one of the others pushed Jerusha down.’

  ‘A tempest in a teapot,’ Rees said. ‘Is that coffee ready?’ Lydia nodded and rose to her feet to fetch the pot from the fire. But the frown between her brows did not disappear.

  She brought a cup for both Rees and Granny Rose as well as the sugar bowl, full to the brim with jagged chunks nipped from the cone, and a pitcher of cream. He noticed with some amusement that Granny Rose lightened her coffee to a shade even paler than his own. An expression of utter delight crossed her face with the first sip.

  ‘Not often you drink real coffee?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘This is a real treat, I don’t mind telling you.’

  Lydia returned to the table and sat down. ‘I’m curious about the Wootten family,’ she said, smiling at Granny Rose. Although she sounded as though she were preparing for nothing more than a good gossip, Rees knew better to make the mistake of underestimating her purpose. And, from the sudden tension in Granny Rose’s shoulder, he could see she understood Lydia’s intentions as well.