Sins of a Shaker Summer (29 page)

Wilhelm stood first, and the brethren followed him. Rose led the sisters through their own door, and the two lines emerged from the building into an early night. Thick, inky clouds had spread across the sky, obliterating the last sliver of blue and the first hints of sunset. A drop of rain hit Rose on the cheek. Saving solemnity for the worship service, the Believers scurried toward the two entrances to the Meetinghouse.

Rose decided to let the service begin. Grady was still nowhere in sight, and it would be easiest to keep an eye on Andrew if everyone was together in one building. She frequently glanced over at him as she led her sisters to their benches. All the sisters were present except Agatha, who was too frail for such a vigorous ritual, and Charlotte, who was caring for the children in their dwelling house.

Lightning burst across one of the large Meetinghouse windows, followed closely by explosive thunder that rattled the glass. Rose was glad to be safe inside, despite the circumstances.

Wilhelm walked to the podium in the middle of the room and began a short homily about purging and confession, timing his comments perfectly with the increasing lightning and thunder. Rose paid no attention. Instead she kept her eyes trained on the brethren's section, so she could keep Andrew in her sight at all times. So that he would not catch her staring at him, she let her gaze wander across the rows of brethren, counting silently.

Someone was missing. She looked up and down the rows again. Willy wasn't there, but she didn't expect him to be. Nay, a brother was missing. She reached the group from the Medicinal Herb Shop and realized it was Thomas. Glancing quickly from side to side, Rose located Irene, so they had not run off together. And yea, Benjamin was still
there, sitting next to Andrew. Would Thomas have sneaked away to avoid the ordeal of public confession? Wilhelm would be furious.

The homily ended and a gloom settled over the room that had little to do with the blackness outside. Wilhelm sat down. There was to be no music; the occasion was too somber. The rain became a steady battering on the high roof of the Meetinghouse and pounded against the west windows, driven by a ferocious wind.

Wilhelm bowed his head in silent prayer, and the brethren followed his lead. Rose understood that Wilhelm considered himself in charge of this service. He had not even consulted her about the form it should take. She bowed her head, and so did the sisters. For a full five minutes, the only sounds came from the storm, growing in velocity. Even Elsa made no attempt to converse out loud with the angels, which made Rose wonder if Wilhelm had planned the ritual with her instead of Rose. He might be hoping that this evening would be Rose's last as eldress. Elsa, his fervent supporter, could then step in.

Rose raised her gaze to see Wilhelm nod slightly at Andrew, who moved with obvious reluctance to the center of the room. He did not look at the sisters. Rose closed her eyes and prayed again—for strength, for hope, and especially for Grady to arrive. Until now, she had believed that she and Andrew were both innocent victims, facing punishment for crimes others had invented for their own purposes. Now she wasn't sure of anything. It occurred to her that he might try to avoid retribution by admitting to their imaginary wrongdoings and placing the blame entirely on Rose.

When she opened her eyes again, Andrew had dropped to his knees and raised his arms heavenward. He opened his mouth to speak. But his words disappeared in the whoosh of an opened door, followed by a slam. All eyes turned to the women's entrance, where Charlotte leaned against the door, gasping. The light cotton of her drenched
work dress clung immodestly to her body. She had tried to protect herself by wearing her heavy palm bonnet, but she must have tied it too hastily, because it had flown back and hung from her shoulders. Her thin white cap had become translucent and no longer hid her damp hair, darkened by rain. Rivulets dripped from her bangs down her flushed cheeks.

Charlotte's frantic eyes searched the rows of sisters until she found Rose. “Janey and Marjorie,” she said. “They are missing.”

In an instant, Rose understood. Not Andrew. Thomas. When Hugo remembered the Nathan Sharp story, he wasn't thinking about the fact that Nathan had been a trustee; he was simply pulling to mind a Believer who betrayed his own people by stealing from them. Hugo had once been a salesman, so he'd known what clues to look for. Thomas, who was such a good salesman, controlled the sales accounts so that Andrew and the others could concentrate on creating new cures. That was what Hugo had seen when he examined the journals from the Medicinal Herb Shop—evidence that Thomas was skimming the profits, hoping to leave with enough money to take his children with him. He had chosen to execute his plan now because he was afraid that, after being exposed in the group confessions, Irene and Benjamin would leave together and take Janey and Marjorie. He had to get to them first.

Irene screamed and lunged toward the door. Two sisters grabbed and held her as she continued to struggle. “Let me go,” she begged. “You don't understand. He'll hurt them. He says he loves them, but he hurts them. I had to get them away from him. I had to keep them safe.”

Wilhelm was either dazed or hoping to go on with the purging, because he neither moved nor spoke. Rose took charge.

“Has anyone called the Sheriff's Office?” she asked, as she reached Charlotte.

Charlotte nodded. “I called Gennie over to stay with the
children, and she phoned while I did one last search of the Children's Dwelling House. She said Grady wasn't back yet, and the one officer left said the winds have uprooted trees along the roads. The officer will try to get here, but he didn't know how long it would take.”

“Sisters, brethren,” she said, turning to face them. “We must find the children ourselves. Their father, Thomas, has taken them, and he is dangerous. It hasn't been long; they can't have gotten far, unless . . . Andrew, do you suppose Thomas might have taken the Plymouth?”

Andrew's mouth curved in something that, under less grave circumstances, might have been called a smile. “Certainly he could have, and probably did. But it won't do him any good. The Plymouth has a flat tire. I discovered it just before the evening meal and didn't have time to change it.”

“He might still have tried to drive it off, though. Or managed to change the tire himself in the storm,” Rose said. “It would slow him down, though. We may have a chance. Sisters, start calling our neighbors, and—”

“Our phone lines are down,” Charlotte said. “Gennie started to call around after talking to the Sheriff's Office, but the phone went dead.”

“Then we must do this ourselves, with God's help,” Rose said. “I want groups of you to begin searching. No one should be alone, and at least one brother should be with each group. Spread out and search the whole village, starting with the buildings. They might have taken shelter until the storm passes. Leave on all the lamps as you go through the buildings. It will help light the village.” She directed groups in different directions. To her surprise, Wilhelm willingly joined several Believers heading for the Ministry House.

When the last group had dashed into the storm, Rose removed her long Dorothy cloak from a peg and tied it around her neck. Thank goodness they had thought ahead and brought their outdoor garments with them. She snugly
knotted her palm bonnet and reached for the door.

“I was certain you would violate your own rule and set out on your own,” Andrew said from behind her.

“Andrew, I thought you'd . . .”

“You feel responsible for those children, and you will put yourself in danger to save them. I am going with you.”

R
ATHER THAN BE DELAYED ANY LONGER
, R
OSE AND
A
NDREW
left by the same door, which the wind slammed shut behind them. The rain had turned to hail, which stung Rose's cheeks and blanketed the grass, turning July to midwinter. Andrew led the way down the muddy central path to the Trustees' House, where the Plymouth was kept parked. It was still there. One corner hung lower where the tire was flat. As Rose caught up, Andrew stooped down and picked something up. He held it out to Rose. A corncob doll, battered and drenched. Rose slid the doll behind the triangular kerchief that crisscrossed over her bodice. She prayed for the chance to return it to Marjorie.

“What now?” Andrew asked.

“Thomas was at the evening meal, and so were the girls. So it must have begun to rain just as they set out They might have gone back to one of the buildings for shelter, but I think it more likely that he took them into the woods to wait out the storm. They are less likely to be found there, and it would be easier to get away from the woods than from a building.”

The nearest wooded areas were the holy hill and the grove of trees north of the old cemetery. They agreed to try the holy hill first. As they ran around behind the Trustees' Office, lightning slithered directly over their heads, followed instantly by a boom, as if the sky had cracked
loose and crashed to the earth. An unseen hand flipped a switch, and all the lights in the village went out at once.

Rose and Andrew kept running, though now the Empyrean Mount appeared only as a dark mass against a dark sky. They relied on the frequent flashes of lightning to show them how close they were to the perimeter of the woods.

Once they entered the cover of the trees, they were protected from the downpour, but they could no longer use the lightning to guide their way. Rose tripped over a tree trunk, and Andrew caught her around the waist, breaking her fall. As soon as she was steady, he released her waist but grasped her wrist to keep her from falling again.

“For the greater good,” he said. “Saving human lives is more important than observing the rules.” Rose did not argue.

They reached the holy hill without seeing anyone or hearing anything but the wind whipping the tops of the trees. The hill itself was open to the sky. The rain still pounded, running in muddy streamlets off the overdry earth. Surely no one would hide in such an exposed area, certainly not with young children. Rose imagined Janey and Marjorie, soaked and terrified.

“Come on,” she said. “They won't be here. Let's try the woods on the other side.”

Staying in the trees, they circled around, then headed into the deeper woods northwest of the hill. Despite the thick canopy of leaves overhead, the wind had become a roar, sucking the trees sideways first one way, then the other. Bursts of rain penetrated the woods as the wind created openings among the trees.

Andrew stopped with a suddenness that nearly threw Rose off balance. Then she heard it, too. A child sobbing. It sounded close by.

“I'll go on ahead,” Andrew said, “and you wait a bit, then follow.”

“Andrew,” Rose hissed in his ear, “I am perfectly capable of helping to—”

“I'm well aware of that. I just think it safer if Thomas doesn't know right away that there are two of us. Then if he overpowers me, you can come to the rescue.”

Though his tone had been matter-of-fact, Rose wondered if he was mocking her. He still held her wrist, and she snapped it away from him more sharply than was necessary.

“Go on, then,” she said, with irritation.

He moved away, creeping from tree to tree, and pausing to locate the sound of the child's wailing. Rose waited, but only until he was just going out of sight, then she followed. Andrew must have moved faster as he neared the crying, because Rose did not regain sight of him. Instead, she listened herself and hoped she would follow the same path.

She continued slinking from tree to tree for what seemed like an hour but was perhaps ten minutes, without seeing Andrew. The crying, which ranged from howling to whimpering, grew louder. Rose even thought she could identify eight-year-old Janey's voice. Was anyone trying to soothe her, or was she being left to sob in terror?

Rose inched around a huge oak trunk, thinking she must be close, when the child screamed, a shriek of horror, which was repeated over and over again, then stopped suddenly. Rose was torn. Was Janey injured, and should she rush forward to help? Had Andrew reached her and convinced her to be quiet? In the end, Rose couldn't just stand there and wait. She tiptoed toward where she had last heard the sounds, determined to see but not be seen.

She gently pushed aside a tall bramble bush and saw Janey. She was sitting on the ground, streaked with mud, and bound to a tree trunk with what looked like vines. A gag was tied around her mouth. It resembled a sleeve from a brother's white Sabbathday shirt. Next to her, little Marjorie slumped against their restraint as if unconscious or asleep.

Rose felt paralyzed. Her impulse was to rush forward and release the children, but where was Thomas? And where was Andrew? For the first time, doubt slipped into
her mind. Why had Andrew insisted on going ahead, then disappeared from view so quickly? It began to look as if he'd wanted to lose her.

Hugo had looked at Andrew's journal, as well as Thomas's. She had only Andrew's speculation that any potentially dangerous herbs might have been mixed with the peppermint that Gertrude had used for her jelly. Both Andrew and Thomas visited Hugo on occasion. Moreover, if Thomas had been skimming profits from the medicinal herb sales, was it truly reasonable to assume that Andrew would not have known about it? The two of them may have planned it together. Leaving the children tied up this way might be part of their plan, or a part that went awry.

Rose's mind rushed from idea to idea, but none of them helped her know what to do next. The children might have been abandoned and the two men already gone from the village. Or the girls might be a trap. Andrew knew that, at the moment, Rose was the only other person in these woods. If they could disable or even kill her, they might have plenty of time to escape.

Either way, Rose knew she had to rescue those children. It could be a very long time before any other Believers extended their search to these woods. In the meantime, Janey was terrified, and Marjorie might need immediate medical help. Perhaps if Rose circled around before going to the girls, she could discover whether the men had gone.