A Simple Shaker Murder by Deborah Woodworth Page A

you talk about it.”
    Mairin was silent for a few moments. When she spoke, Rose was again taken aback by her strangely mature voice. “He called me a little monkey,” she said. “He said my mama must have swung from trees, and that’s why I’m a brown runt with no manners.”
    â€œI’m so sorry that was said to you,” Rose said. She blinked back tears as she sought the right words. “You know you aren’t . . . what he said, don’t you?”
    Mairin shrugged. “Other people have said those things to me. They don’t bother me so much anymore.”
    â€œBut you were frightened, Mairin. What frightened you?”
    Mairin shrugged again.
    â€œWho were the ‘other people’? Families you lived with after your parents died?”
    â€œSometimes.”
    â€œMairin, did those people ever say or do other things, too?”
    A wave of fear washed over the girl’s face. She pulled her hand back and stepped away from Rose. “I’m hungry. Can we get a treat now?”
    â€œI know it’s hard to think about times when people hurt you, but it’ll help if you tell me. I promise. Did anyone beat you?”
    Mairin’s face went blank, as if she had stepped into another world. “I’m bad a lot,” she said, without emotion.
    Rose sensed Mairin had reached her limit. “We can talk about this more at another time,” she said. “Let’s go get something to eat, shall we?” As she took Mairin’s limp hand and led her into the sunshine, one more question haunted her. She couldn’t put it off. “Mairin, when you said you are bad a lot, do you mean . . . now? Do you still think you are bad a lot?”
    â€œYes, a lot.”
    Rose’s jaw tightened, and the tears that hovered on her eyelids were tears of fury.

SEVEN
    A BRISK WIND HAD KICKED UP BEFORE THE EVENING MEAL, AND Wilhelm’s announcement of a worship service indoors was greeted by the Believers with pleasure. Though a man had died, a service also meant staying warm and together, rather than trudging off alone or in small groups for another hour or two of chores. In recent years North Homage had struggled to keep going with too few Believers and too much work. They continued to feed and assist visitors, neighbors, anyone who needed their help, but their own strength and resources were dwindling. Little was said about the end many feared was coming. Worship held them together and reconnected them with the heaven they longed for.
    With Rose’s help, Sister Charlotte had settled the children, including Mairin, in the Children’s Dwelling House, with the older ones watching over bedtime preparations and prayers. The wind had died down by the time they’d left for the Center Family Dwelling House, but their wool cloaks felt good in the crisp air. More than likely it would be warm again by the next afternoon; autumn was a long and glorious season, inching its way into the damp, overcast days of winter.
    Rose and Charlotte were the last to arrive at the Center Family Dwelling House. The large meeting room, where the service was to be held, was divided in half by an open space which, separated rows of chairs. Women sat on one side, men on the other, facing each other. Most of the worshipers stillwore their loose Shaker work clothes, giving the room the look of a sketch from an earlier century. Old-fashioned dress was part of Wilhelm’s plan to pull North Homage back to the days when it was growing and vibrant. So far, his scheme had seen little effect; the village continued to dwindle, and setting themselves apart from the world only seemed to make their neighbors less tolerant of the Shakers, despite their reputation for honesty and high quality products.
    Among the long, drab dresses with white kerchiefs crisscrossed over the bodice, Rose spotted some worldly clothing. She had informed the New-Owenite women that the worship