The Innocent (24 page)

“Some business.” Mrs. Snowden snorted. She handed him a napkin. “Land’s sakes, you smell to high heaven. Smoke from that fire out there at Shakertown, I’m guessing. Wasn’t one of their big buildings, was it?”

“No, a barn.”

“Lightning?”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

She sat down across from him. “What’s this world coming to? Guess that’s why you were out there so long. Did you see Carlyn Kearney? Find out how she was doing?”

“I saw her. She looked like one of the sisters.”

“Is that so?” Mrs. Snowden shook her head slowly. “I just can’t hardly believe that. She never seemed the Shaker type. But I guess as long as she’s happy.”

“I don’t know that anybody was happy out there today. One of the brothers died in the fire.” There wasn’t any reason not to tell her. That kind of news would travel fast. In fact, it was surprising she didn’t already know. Plenty of people from the farms around Harmony Hill were at the village and knew about Brother Henry.

Mrs. Snowden looked stricken. “Dear heavens, and here I am worrying over a dog. The Lord won’t know what to think of me.”

Or
me
, Mitchell thought as he shoveled a spoonful of beans into his mouth. But he couldn’t help worrying about what he’d tell Carlyn about her dog when he saw her next if he couldn’t find Asher once the sun came up. And he did intend to see her again whether he found the dog or not.

21

Carlyn pushed open her eyes when she heard the bell. She jerked up, fearful the sound signaled another fire. It couldn’t be morning already, but daylight crept through the windows to prove it was. The bell demanded she get out of bed, but all she wanted to do was lie back, pull the cover over her head, and block out the day.

The night before, she’d lain awake for too many hours with thoughts and wonderings bombarding her. Who was responsible for the fire? If the Ministry had known about the argument between Brother Henry and Curt, would Brother Henry still be alive? Why hadn’t Sister Edna reported it to them? Who was the other man? The one regretting his deal with Curt.

If she had taken the other path, the proper path back to the garden, she would have heard nothing. Then the fire very well might still have been set. Brother Henry might very well have perished with his horses, but there wouldn’t be the unsavory cloud of suspicions settling down over the
village like the lingering smoke from the fire. No one would have known about the argument. And she would not have seen Curt.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t still be tormented by the thought of Brother Henry trapped in the fire with those poor horses. If she lived to be a hundred she would never forget that sound. But Curt Whitlow would have never entered her mind. She would have had no reason to worry about her own safety there in the village.

Sheriff Brodie said she still did not, but Sheriff Brodie wasn’t at the Shaker village. He was miles away in the town. With Asher. Oh, how nice it would be to have Asher here by the bed, nudging her with his nose. How nice to never have had a war to tear Ambrose away from her. How nice to know what to believe.

Believe in the Lord. That was what her mother would tell her. She’d remind Carlyn that the Lord was the beginning and the end. If she wanted answers, that was where to go.
But what if he won’t answer?
She was a little child again at her mother’s knee.

“He always answers,” her mother had told her. “But sometimes we must wait for the answer and sometimes we refuse to hear the answer because it’s not the answer we want.”

“But doesn’t he want to give us good answers?”

“Assuredly. God is love. But he sees the whole woven fabric of our lives and not simply the few threads we are trying to twine together at the moment. Good and bad weave into the pattern of our lives. Together they make us strong and able to endure whatever must be endured.”

Carlyn didn’t remember now what childish problem she might have had then, but she did remember her mother’s
hand soft on her head as she told her to pray about whatever it was. If she were with her on this day, she’d tell her the same. That was her mother’s answer to any need. Pray until an answer comes. Continually pull the rope on the bell that prayer rings in the Lord’s ear.

So when she heeded the Shaker bell to rise as she must, she knelt by her bed for the morning’s prayer. Many mornings she knelt without purpose other than to satisfy the Shaker rules, but this morning a prayer rose from her heart.

Lord, if there be
answers I need, supply them and open my ears to
hear them.

She stayed perfectly still for a moment as though she expected the answers to whisper through her thoughts immediately. No answer came. Instead it was as if she were with Sister Edna demanding that she not whisper words just for the sake of making noise, but to pull from within her what she wanted most to know.

The other sisters in the room had finished their morning prayers and were getting dressed, but Carlyn continued to kneel by her bed as she opened her heart to the Lord. She’d prayed that way before, entreating the Lord on behalf of Ambrose. But then she’d never been able to surrender the answer to the Lord. She didn’t want to listen to any answer other than the one she begged for, even demanded from the Lord. Perhaps he would have already sent her an answer if she had stopped making demands and simply listened.

“Forgive me, Lord. I will listen. Guide me to the answers I need.” She whispered the words under her breath and got to her feet.

She stripped off her nightgown and jerked on her dress, sure that at any second Sister Edna would be haranguing her
for being so slow with her prayers. Patience was not one of Sister Edna’s gifts. She wanted things done promptly and on schedule. Prayers were to be said in the time allotted. Food eaten without dawdling. Work done well, but with efficiency. Any lapses were to be confessed with alacrity.

Carlyn’s fingers fumbled with the tie of her apron. She took a deep breath to steady her hands. If she got an earful from Sister Edna, then she would simply endure it. She managed the proper bow with her apron strings and stuffed her barely combed hair up under her cap as she shoved her feet into her shoes. It wasn’t until she turned to line up with the other sisters to begin their morning chores before the morning meal that she noted the odd silence in the room.

While Sister Edna continually cautioned them against idle chatter, they rarely stayed completely silent as they readied themselves for the coming day. But now they were not only quiet, but appeared discomfited as well.

Sister Berdine stepped to the side and pointed toward Sister Edna. The sister was still in her nightgown as she knelt beside her bed. Carlyn couldn’t see her face, but there was no doubt she was in an attitude of prayer. And even less doubt that seeing her thus while those in her charge were dressed and ready for her to hurry them out the door to begin their chores had left those charges speechless.

Sister Alice recovered her voice first, but she kept it low. “Sisters, let us be about our chores before the morning meal and not disturb our sister in her prayers.”

Sister Edna spoke then, but kept her eyes on the wall beside her bed. “Yea, do as Sister Alice instructs. I will join you in due time.” Her voice carried a tone of irritation with their dawdling, the same as any other morning.

With a quick glance at Sister Edna, the two youngest sisters who had kitchen duty scooted out the door. The other sisters followed behind them to clean rooms on the brethren’s side of the house. With a little shrug of her shoulders, Sister Berdine shot Carlyn a sympathetic look before she left.

Carlyn’s morning duty was sweeping their own sleeping room, so she was stuck in the room with Sister Edna. Carlyn had no idea what Sister Edna’s duty was. Perhaps to climb to the top of the stairs and keep watch for wrong actions. Carlyn had seen her at the top of the steep stairs to the upper storage rooms more than once. The attic windows gave a good view of the village paths. It appeared there was no place to hide in the Shaker village.

But then nobody had seen whoever set the fire in the night. Darkness had hidden that evil.

Carlyn straightened her bedcovers and gathered the dirty clothing to carry to the laundry room, but first she needed to sweep every inch of the sleeping room. Sister Edna was continually telling them that good spirits couldn’t live where there was even an iota of dirt. Carlyn took down the broom from one of the wall pegs. She tried to keep her eyes from Sister Edna’s bed, but it was impossible not to be aware of the woman kneeling there.

Carlyn began sweeping at the back of the room, shifting aside each bed equipped with rollers to make the job easier. The broom straws against the wooden floor, a natural sound she normally would not have even noticed, sounded loud this morning. Everything felt strange without Sister Edna pointing out each speck of dirt she missed.

The woman had to be sick or perhaps unable to rise from her knees after kneeling so long. Hadn’t Carlyn’s knees felt
numb earlier? The woman’s pride might keep her from asking for help. Carlyn shifted aside another bed, swept under it, and pushed it back into place. The rollers rumbled against the floor. But that didn’t keep her from hearing Sister Edna’s sorrowful sigh.

Carlyn smoothed the covers on Sister Berdine’s bed. She never got all the wrinkles out of her top cover. Another sigh that was almost a groan. Perhaps the Holy Spirit was praying for Sister Edna with unuttered words. But then, what if she was in pain and simply too prideful to ask Carlyn’s help?

The room was only half swept, but Carlyn hung the broom on a peg. She could hardly get in any worse graces with Sister Edna. So if the older sister chased Carlyn away with pointed words, naught would be different in their relationship.

Even so, Carlyn stopped a few paces from Sister Edna and wished the broom back in her hands. What could she say to her? But the woman still wore her nightgown and the bell signaling the morning meal would sound at any moment. With her shoulders hunched over the bed, Sister Edna looked a different woman. Not so formidable. Even so, Carlyn couldn’t imagine her desiring help from one so newly from the world. At times, Sister Edna had acted as though merely being close to Carlyn was reason to ask forgiveness for worldliness.

Carlyn pulled in a deep breath for courage and forced out the words. “Sister Edna, it is almost time for the morning meal.” She practically tiptoed the rest of the way to the end of the woman’s bed and peered at her.

A tear rolled down one of Sister Edna’s cheeks and fell off her chin to make a damp spot on her gown. She didn’t
turn her head to look at Carlyn. “Prayers take precedence over food.”

“Yea.” Carlyn didn’t know what else to say as she fingered her apron. Sister Edna looked older and more fragile without the armor of her Shaker dress. Her gray hair, always covered with a bonnet, was wispy and barely covered her scalp, and the skin on her neck was creased with age.

“Prayer takes precedence over chores as well, but as you don’t appear to be praying, you’d best be about finishing your morning work.” Irritation was plain in Sister Edna’s voice.

That put Carlyn more at ease. This Sister Edna she knew. So she stayed where she was. “I’m almost finished. Except for under your bed.” When the woman didn’t say anything, Carlyn went on. “Do you need help getting up? My knees sometimes go numb when I kneel too long.”

“Then you should pray more to toughen them up.” Sister Edna did look at Carlyn then. “My knees have prayer calluses. I could kneel this way all day.”

“Yea, well . . .” Carlyn started to turn away, but hesitated. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t simply finish her chores and go out of the room. Not and leave the woman alone. Something was wrong with her whether she would admit it or not. “But you know Sister Marie. She’s bound to need some help finishing her chores. And I might miss a rumple in one of the beds. Your eyes are better at seeing the proper way of things.”

Carlyn couldn’t believe she was actually asking for Sister Edna’s criticisms, but instead of her words encouraging the sister to be up and about her duties, Sister Edna dropped her head back down.

“I have seen too much.” Her voice was low and sad.

Carlyn didn’t know what to say. “Should I go get Eldress Lilith?”

“Nay.” Sister Edna repeated the word with vehemence. “Nay. I can’t talk to her or the Ministry until I am sure.”

“If you think that best,” Carlyn murmured even as she remembered wondering if Brother Henry would have died in the fire if Sister Edna had reported the argument Carlyn had witnessed to those leaders. She stepped between the beds and touched Sister Edna’s shoulder, and even though Sister Edna was not being her normal self, it surprised Carlyn when she jumped. But then, Carlyn didn’t know that she’d ever touched the woman. Sister Edna always seemed to stand apart, coming near only to jerk a collar straighter or point out a wisp of hair escaping a cap.

It was Carlyn’s turn to be startled when Sister Edna reached up and grabbed her hand. Carlyn managed not to jerk her hand free.