Cradle to Grave (15 page)

Rees turned to Lydia. She shrugged helplessly. “Does Elder Herman know you're here?” he asked.

Mouse shook her head, keeping her eyes lowered. “No.”

“He gave his word to the constable that you would stay in Mount Unity after you took the children,” Rees said. Mouse did not reply. Rees sighed and moved a few steps forward. “What happened last night? Elder Herman told us you took a buggy.”

“No one would do anything to save these children.” She looked down at Joseph. Using her arm for support, he had pulled himself to his feet and was swaying unsteadily. “So I had to come. I know how it feels to be unloved and unwanted. Called names and slapped … always at the mercy of a drunken parent.”

Rees turned to look at Lydia.

“And after you took the buggy?” Lydia asked in a sympathetic voice. Mouse looked up, startled.

“Oh, well, I never made it to the farm. Elder Herman caught up to me first.”

Lydia eyed Jerusha, who was clearly listening intently, and gestured both Mouse and Rees to the table. “Little pitchers,” she said. “Jerusha, mind Nancy and the boys while the adults talk.” Jerusha frowned and sat down beside her brothers with an angry thump.

“Where were you when the Elder caught up to you?” Rees asked.

“Past the log church. Driving south toward Dover Springs.”

“And when was that?”

“About eight, I believe. It had been dark for hours.”

“Did you see anything? Any lights?”

Mouse shook her head. “I heard singing.”

“Singing? What was being sung?”

Mouse screwed up her face in thought. “Hymns, I think. I couldn't hear all of the words.” She shuddered. “Every now and then the person would stop singing and shout. Words like ‘harlot' and ‘Jezebel.' I heard those.”

“Man or woman?” Lydia asked, leaning forward.

“Woman, I believe,” Mouse said uncertainly. “High voice? But I wasn't paying attention.” She clutched Lydia's hand. “You don't think I killed…” Her eyes cut left to the children and she paused. “I wouldn't. I swear it on Mother Ann Lee.” Since Mother Ann Lee was the founder of the Shakers in the United States, and almost a goddess to some, Rees knew how serious Mouse's affirmation was.

“Did you see anyone, anyone at all?” Rees asked.

“No. I told you. It was too dark, anyway.”

Rees sat back, thinking. The constable had been quite sure of Mouse's guilt, and for the first time Rees found that certainty odd. “You did not stop the buggy or get out?”

Mouse turned a look of impatience upon Rees. “No. Why would I? I was driving as fast as I could to this cabin. I thought Maggie would probably be passed out in the bedroom and I—” She stopped suddenly, her head snapping around toward the door. “Someone's coming,” she gasped, her face going white. “What if it's Constable Cooper?” Rees heard the buggy wheels also and jumped to his feet. He did not know how he would explain Mouse's presence to the constable, if he was the new arrival.

Chapter Thirteen

As Rees crossed to the window, Mouse fled into the bedroom to hide. But when he peered out, he saw not Cooper, but Elders Herman and Agatha approaching. Rees opened the door.

“Did Sister Hannah come here?” Herman asked. Rees looked at Lydia for direction. With a sigh, she pointed at the bedroom door. Agatha started for it, but paused, staring at the five children seated by the fire. Rees saw her eyes widen but she did not speak.

Before the Elders reached the bedroom door, it opened and Mouse appeared, her eyes downcast.

“We have been searching for you,” Herman said.

“We've been so worried,” Agatha added.

“You made a liar of me,” Herman said. “I promised the constable we could keep you at Mount Unity.”

“I had to assure myself of the safety of these children,” Mouse said, her voice soft but determined. “Now can they come to us?”

“It's not that simple,” Herman said.

“Of course it is. They're orphans now.” For all her low tone, Mouse sounded uncompromising.

“Sister Hannah,” Herman said with a sigh, “the constable suspects you of killing Mrs. Whitney. Leaving the community twice will only serve to confirm that opinion.”

“And you put all of us in danger,” Agatha said. “Next time the ruffians who ride through the community will not be boys but men, determined to destroy us.”

Mouse bit her lip.

“The constable has every right to confine you to jail.” Rees added his voice to the chorus. “I didn't see one in Dover Springs. That means Cooper would take you to the nearest jail, probably located in the county seat. Besides all the discomfort of imprisonment, you'd be separated from everyone. Is that what you want? Cooper gave you a gift when he allowed you to stay home.” Mouse's eyes filled with tears. Lydia frowned at Rees. He himself felt guilty at the harshness of his speech. “I'm sorry if I sound cruel,” he went on. “But I want you to understand why you need to stay at Mount Unity. Promise me, you won't leave again.”

Mouse sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Will you come visit me?”

“Yes,” Lydia said. “Of course.”

“I'll have questions for you anyway,” Rees said.

“Will you bring the children?” Mouse turned to look at them. Jerusha's eyes were huge as she watched the scene being played out before her.

“Maybe,” Rees began. But Herman shook his head, looking across the room to Rees.

“You must remember what it was like during the war?”

“I was a boy then, but I remember it well,” Rees said.

“We, the Millennial Church, did not arrive here until 1776. Feelings ran very high. Loyalists, and those suspected of supporting the British, saw their homes and businesses burned. Some were dragged out of their homes at night and beaten or tarred and feathered.” He paused and added quietly, “It was frightening.”

Rees nodded. He recalled participating in such actions as a boy in Dugard, including piling live coals in front of the doors of suspected Loyalists. One of Rees's father's friends hung suspected Tories without benefit of trial, and he was by no means the only one who did so. And the Tories treated those they thought of as traitors in the same manner. King Carleton, the largest landowner in Dugard and a known British sympathizer, had faced down a mob armed with nothing but a musket. Unwilling to lose his property and possibly face expulsion from his home, he'd turned his coat shortly thereafter, becoming a Patriot, at least in name. “It was an emotional time,” Rees agreed.

“We had just purchased this property,” Herman said. “I was a young man then, simply a Brother. I remember those times well. We do not believe in fighting, Mr. Rees. We are a peaceful community. So we were suspect. Some of our fields were burned, because people were afraid we were offering support to the British. Elder Johannes was hauled off to jail, humiliated.” His voice trailed away and his face worked. “We did not dare leave our lands for any reason. We feared attack, you see. And sometimes bands of drunken men would ride through our village. They would beat the Brethren, and sometimes the Sisters.” He turned his somber gaze upon Mouse. “It was much, much worse than the harassment we saw this winter.” He looked back at Rees. “So, perhaps you understand that although we will be happy to adopt these children, we cannot, at least not until Sister Hannah's innocence is confirmed. Doing so may bring another storm down upon our heads.”

“Surely the townspeople will be glad to have you accept the children,” Lydia said.

“Perhaps,” Herman agreed. “And perhaps, even though they are happy to surrender these children to us, some will use it as an excuse to turn against us.” Rees nodded in unhappy agreement. Sometimes any excuse would do.

No one spoke for several seconds. Joseph said, “Da-da-da-da,” and Mouse swept him up into her arms. She hugged him hard and then put him down again.

“We will take you home now, Sister Hannah,” Herman said. She nodded, holding her head up so the tears in her eyes would not fall. Agatha whispered something to Lydia before turning and grasping Mouse's wrist.

“I have a few questions for you, Elder Herman,” Rees said. “If you don't mind.”

Herman turned to Agatha. “Take Sister Hannah to the buggy. I'll be out shortly.”

Agatha swept Mouse out the door.

Rees gestured Elder Herman to a seat at the table while Lydia went over to speak to the children. Rees couldn't hear what she said, but Jerusha nodded and rose to her feet. She picked up Joseph and drew Judah and Nancy into the bedroom. “Naps,” Lydia explained as she swung the coffeepot nearer the fire.

“When did the constable arrive at Mount Unity and accuse Mouse?” Rees asked.

“First thing that morning,” Elder Herman said. “It must have been seven thirty or eight.”

“Did anyone from your community talk to the constable before that?”

“Of course not.” Herman managed a faint smile. “That is how we knew Mouse had been accused. We set off after you as soon as the constable told us.”

Rees sat back, thinking. Besides the obvious question—who was singing in the dark on a winter's night—how had Constable Cooper known of Mouse's proximity? Rees called to mind the log meetinghouse. Except for Mr. Gray's house, he recalled seeing no other habitation. A thick stand of woods lay across from the church and the graveyard and fields sprawled north and south. Mouse had said she saw nobody that night. So who had seen Mouse?

“Did the constable give you the name of the person who accused her?”

“No,” said the Elder.

“It is possible Mrs. Whitney's murder was accidental,” Rees said. “If she'd been conscious, she could have climbed out of the grave.” He did not believe it. The presence of the stone, and the absence of Maggie's cloak and bonnet, spoke to a purposeful crime.

“Mrs. Whitney was found in an open grave, with a severe wound on her head,” Herman said now, as though he'd heard Rees's thoughts. “Of course she was murdered.”

“Mouse is not strong enough to lift another woman, carry her a distance, and drop her,” Lydia said, an edge to her voice. Rees knew she was as frightened for Mouse as he was.

“Constable Cooper said she could have used a cart to carry the body.” Herman sighed. “He said that Sister Hannah had more reason to wish Maggie dead than anyone. I believe we would all agree, despite the affection in which we hold her. And she was there, near at the graveyard, last night, about the time that poor unfortunate woman was murdered.”

“If he were completely convinced, Mouse would be in jail already,” Rees said. “I saw no sign of cart wheels, and only a man would be strong enough to carry Maggie's body. When you recovered the buggy, did you find her cloak?”

“No. Nor blood either. I examined the buggy myself.” He paused and then, focusing his gaze upon Lydia, he added, “Mouse is in danger of expulsion from our community. The Elders from the First Family are insisting upon it, in fact.”

“But Mouse is innocent,” Lydia protested, her voice rising. She threw a quick frightened glance at Rees. “She has nowhere else to go.”

“She may be innocent,” the Elder agreed. “But she has been disobedient. She was forbidden to see those children, but she stole a buggy with the express purpose of taking them from their mother a second time. Now, because of her unwillingness to obey direction, the entire community is in danger.” He stopped speaking abruptly, shaking his head in distress.

“Please give me a chance to at least resolve the question of Mouse's guilt or innocence,” Rees said. “The situation may not be as terrible as you fear. I believe some of the townsfolk would be happy to see you take on responsibility for the Whitney children.” Rees recalled Mr. Demming's statements. “I know it, in fact.”

“But would they all?” Elder Herman asked.

“Maybe not. But perhaps they could be brought around,” he said.

“I doubt that,” Herman said instantly.

“Please, please don't expel Mouse,” Lydia begged. “Please.”

“We pleaded for mercy and the Elders from First Family agreed she should be confined to her room instead.”

“Oh dear,” Lydia said involuntarily. Rees nodded in understanding. The enforced solitude would destroy Mouse.

“At least she will not be in jail,” Herman said. He fixed Lydia with a stern gaze. “But she will not be permitted visitors either.”

“I am not a visitor,” Rees said, feeling himself stiffen. “I am trying to prove her innocence. And in my efforts to discover the actual killer, I may need to speak to her several times.”

The Elder inclined his head.

“One other thing,” Rees said. “We must all agree to keep this from Constable Cooper. Thus far, he has been fairly impartial and willing to at least give Mouse a chance. We don't want to encourage him to change his mind.”

Both Lydia and the Elder nodded solemnly. He rose to his feet and extended a hand. Rees grasped it.

“I'll ride out and inform you of everything I learn,” he promised. The Elder's worried expression did not fade but he tried to smile.

“Thank you,” he said. He went out the door and a few minutes later Rees heard the thud of horse hooves and the creak of carriage wheels disappearing down the drive.

“I'd give my farm to know the name of the witness who talked to Constable Cooper,” Rees said. “I'm going to press him.” Since Mouse had seen no one, Rees thought the very convenient arrival of a witness was suspicious. And where could a witness have been, to see the road? In the church? Standing in the woods? “This afternoon I may take a drive to the log church and look around,” Rees said. And he would call on Mr. Gray, the only one whose house adjoined the graveyard where Maggie's body was found.

“Sister Agatha told me they'll gather up clothes and shoes for the children,” Lydia said, breaking into his thoughts. “We can either collect them when we visit Mouse or one of the Shakers will deliver them.” She added sourly, “I'm grateful but I can't help thinking they must not have believed Mouse when she told them of the dire circumstances of these children. Otherwise, that clothing would already be here.”