Carlyn closed her eyes even though the other two women did not. The sound of horses’ hooves and the creak of a harness interrupted her attempt to pray.
Sister Muriel dropped her hands down with a sound of victory. “There’s Brother Thomas on the way to the town. The Lord has supplied our answer.”
“Or Mother Ann,” Eldress Lilith said.
Carlyn wanted to ask who this mother was, but bit back the question. She looked to her mother for answers. Why shouldn’t they? Perhaps they were actual sisters instead of merely Shaker sisters, even though they shared no family resemblance other than their like dress.
Sister Muriel stepped out to the fence to flag down the wagon. The Shaker man pulled back on the reins to stop his horses.
“Are you on the way to the town, Brother?”
“Yea, have you a need for something there?” the man answered.
“Nay. We have a dog that needs to be carried to the town,” Sister Muriel said.
Carlyn opened her mouth to protest when the memory of the sheriff asking to pet Asher popped into her mind. Another answer, perhaps. Not the one she would most like, for it made her heart hurt to think of giving up Asher, but the dog would be safe with the sheriff. If he would take him in. More need of prayer.
The brother studied the dog for a moment. Then he climbed down from the wagon and rummaged under the seat until he found a rope. “Best tie this around his neck.” He made a loop in one end of the rope and handed it across the fence toward Carlyn.
“He’s never been tied.” Carlyn took it with reluctance.
The brother looked straight at her. “I doubt he’d stay in the wagon without a rope to hold him there.”
“I’ll go with him,” Carlyn said.
“Do you mean to find new answers in the town, my sister?” Sister Muriel asked.
“Only for my dog. The sheriff there. I met him last week. He might know of a place for Asher.”
The two women looked doubtful, but Brother Thomas spoke up. “Sheriff Brodie is a good man for one of the world. The young sister may be right to count on his help.”
“And then what?” Eldress Lilith’s eyes bore into Carlyn.
Carlyn pulled in a deep breath and faced her future. “Then I’ll return and find a place here if you have one for me.”
“We turn no sister in need away,” Sister Muriel said. “Brother Thomas can bring you to me after you are rid of the dog.”
Brother Thomas nodded toward the rope. “Best put it around his neck, young sister, to be sure nothing along the road entices him away from us. A squirrel. Another dog. Dogs are prone to be off on a chase, and I must be about my errands with no time for running down dogs.”
The three Shakers stared at her with impassive faces that expected her to do as they said. With a murmur of apology to Asher, she slipped the loop over the dog’s head. If the Shakers heard her, they gave no indication.
Then the brother pointed at the gun. “You will have no need of a weapon.”
“I have needed it in the past.” Carlyn’s hand tightened on the gun. Curt Whitlow lived in town.
“But you are beginning a new life now. One where, engaged in your duty, you will have nothing to fear.” Brother Thomas gently lifted the gun away from her and propped it against the fence. “Sister Muriel will have a brother fetch the gun.”
“But—” Carlyn looked at the gun, “I’m not a Shaker yet.”
The brother paid her words no mind as he turned back to the wagon. “Climb in and call your dog up after you. He might use his teeth on me if I try to put him there.”
After Asher jumped up in the wagon, Carlyn settled on a box toward the front of the wagon. Asher leaned against her, trembling at the strangeness of it all. Or perhaps because he sensed her own tremble. She was losing everything. Even her carpetbag. She’d left it there on the ground beside the two Shaker sisters.
As the wagon began moving, Carlyn wanted to ask Brother Thomas to stop so she could retrieve it. Perhaps in the town another way would open to her. But she didn’t call out. She needed to accept the answer already given.
She leaned close to the dog and spoke to him in whispers Brother Thomas couldn’t hear over the creaking of the wagon wheels. “You will make Sheriff Brodie a wonderful dog.” She would not let herself think about the sheriff turning the dog away. “You remember him. You wagged your tail when he rubbed your head. It will be good.” She stroked down his head and back. “It will. You’ll have food. I’ll have food and a roof. Each day it is given unto us that which we need.”
Something like that was one of her mother’s oft-quoted Scriptures. Needs and wants were not the same. She wanted Ambrose home months ago. She wanted flowers around her house and chickens in her yard. She wanted Asher on the front porch guarding the door. But she needed food and shelter. That would be supplied by the Shakers who did not embrace the gift of a dog. So her second need was food for him.
She stared into Asher’s dog eyes. He stared back, trying to figure out why they weren’t at their house going about
their daily chores. Even so, he didn’t bark or pull against the rope around his neck. He trusted her. She stroked his fur and leaned her head against his. He had survived before showing up at her house. He would survive again. She would as well. As one of the odd Shaker sisters.
When they finally reached the town, Carlyn kept her head bent as they rode down Main Street. She didn’t want to chance Curt seeing her and pointing an accusing finger at Asher. She was glad when Brother Thomas stopped in front of the sheriff’s office first thing.
He looked back at her. “I ask you to be ready when I return, for I would not like darkness to overtake us on the way back to the village.”
“I will be ready.”
Carlyn climbed out of the wagon and Asher jumped down after her. His legs were shaking and his tail curled under him. She knew how he felt as she turned toward the sheriff’s office. The door was closed. What would she do if he wasn’t there? She gripped the rope around Asher’s neck and stared at the door, willing the sheriff to appear as the Shaker brother flicked the reins and started his horses away.
“Mrs. Kearney, are you looking for me?” Sheriff Brodie didn’t come out of the office but down the street instead.
She turned toward him. “Yes.” That seemed to be the only word she could force out. What she really wanted to do was sit down right there on the walkway and give way to tears, but she’d already dissolved in tears in front of this man once. She would not do so again.
“Come inside.” He gestured toward his office. “It will be cooler there and you can tell me what you need.”
The sun was warm for September, but she’d hardly noticed
once she got to the Shaker village. She hesitated, her free hand on Asher’s head.
He noticed and added, “Your dog is welcome inside too if that’s your worry.”
As if Asher knew he spoke about him, his tail eased away from his body to flap back and forth. He took a step toward the sheriff. That good sign unfroze Carlyn’s tongue. “I have come to ask a favor from you.”
9
She looked so unsure that yes was on Mitchell’s tongue even before hearing what she had come to ask him. When he noted her hand trembling as she held the dog’s rope, he wanted to put his hand over hers to calm her. He put the brakes on his feelings. She hadn’t come looking for a man. She was looking for a sheriff.
“I’m here to help.” He hoped his words would be true and he could help her. But it would be best to hear what she had to say before making promises, no matter how the sight of her weary eyes touched him. She had sweat stains on the bodice of her dress, beggar mites lining the hem of her skirt, and the trace of tears on her cheek.
He pointed toward his office again. When her feet still seemed attached to the walk, he put his hand under her elbow to guide her to the door. Her dog didn’t growl. That was a good sign. His heart speeding up at her nearness was not.
She perched in the chair in front of his desk as he took the chair behind it. He needed to keep some distance between
them. After giving her a moment to gather herself, he asked, “What can I do for you today?”
“It’s about Asher.” She stroked the dog’s head with a hand that was definitely trembling. At the sound of his name, the dog eased closer to her.
Mitchell prodded her to continue. “What about him?” Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Not if her face was any indication. He wished he hadn’t gone for that haircut this morning. Then he might not know about a dog biting Curt Whitlow.
She pushed out the words in a rush. “You know I don’t have the money to pay Mr. Whitlow for the house and no family near who might take me in until . . .” Her voice faltered. She moistened her lips and went on. “Well, since Ambrose didn’t come home. The Shakers will take me in.”
“The Shakers?” He shouldn’t have been surprised, since she’d climbed down out of a Shaker wagon, but he was. Carlyn Kearney didn’t seem the type to go to the Shakers. But then other young women were there, turning their backs on the more common pursuits of marriage and children.
She lifted her chin a bit. “It is the answer to my problem. They will supply my physical needs in return for my labor.”
“They have strange beliefs.” Mitchell should have stayed silent, but the words slipped out.
“None of which I have to believe to live among them,” she said, then sighed. “But they also have many rules.”
“So I’ve heard. Like no marriages. Separating men and women.” Again he should have been silent.
“Those rules present no difficulty for me.” When she twisted the rope in her hands, the dog licked her arm. She shut her eyes a moment and pulled in a breath, as though
summoning courage for her next words. “But they have a rule against dogs. I can stay with them, but Asher cannot.”
“They don’t have dogs?” That surprised Mitchell. “I didn’t know that.”
“Nor did I.” She glanced up at Mitchell, then back down at the dog. “But that is what they tell me.”
“So you’re hoping I know someone who might give him a home?”
“No.” She looked straight at him then. “I want you to take him.”
Mitchell searched for the right words. He had no place for a dog.
She spoke again first, her voice not much above a whisper. “I realize Mrs. Brodie might not want a dog, but Asher likes you. So I was hoping.”
“There’s no Mrs. Brodie.” A flush climbed into her cheeks at his words. “But I can’t have a dog. I live in a boardinghouse.”
“Mrs. Snowden’s?” When he nodded, she hurried out her next words. “I think she’s fond of dogs and Asher is a very good dog. Or he could stay here at your office.” She leaned toward him. “Please.”
He wanted to say no. He had to say no, but he couldn’t bring the word to his lips while staring into her eyes. Instead he said, “I hear a dog bit Curt Whitlow.”
“Is that so?” She sat back and stared down at her lap. The dog’s ears came up at the sound of Whitlow’s name and she stroked his head. Her hand was trembling again. “Was he badly hurt?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him.”
“Dog bites can be painful, I’m told.” She kept her eyes on the dog.
After a moment’s silence, he said, “I don’t think the two of us need to play games about this, Mrs. Kearney. Did your dog attack Curt Whitlow?”
She looked up at him boldly then, the way she had at her house with the gun in her hands. “Yes.”
“With cause?”
“Yes.” Her eyes stayed steady on his.
He clenched his hands at the thought of what her yes might mean. “Would you like to elaborate on that cause?”
“No.” She shut her mouth tightly as if determined not to let any other words out.
“I won’t be able to take the dog if you don’t tell me what happened. Not knowing what made him bite the man.”
“Asher was protecting me.” She moistened her lips and seemed to need to summon courage to continue. “I think you can guess the reason.”
Mitchell clamped down on the anger surging through him. “Did Whitlow injure you or violate you in any way?”
Her face stiffened. “When Asher attacked him, I managed to escape the man’s clutches before anything untoward occurred.”
“That’s good to hear.” Mitchell forced his voice to stay calm. What was it about this woman that made him want to protect her? He pushed the thought aside. He wanted to protect every woman in his county. That was his job. “I can arrest him for accosting you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. It would be my word against his. And I will be gone from his influence with the Shakers. It’s just Asher I worry about.” Her face softened as she pleaded. “Please take him. I beg of you.”
“All right.” He could hardly believe he’d said those words.
He couldn’t have a dog. Especially a dog that had attacked one of the town’s leading citizens. Whether it was with cause or not.
A smile exploded across her face. She jumped to her feet and leaned across the desk to brush her lips across his cheek. “Thank you, Sheriff. I know Asher will be safe with you. I feel so much easier about going to the Shakers now.”
He had to bite back the words telling her he could find her a better place than one with the Shakers, but it was crazy to even imagine saying that to a woman he barely knew. He couldn’t let pity make him do something even more foolish than taking her dog.