other man bent over with laughter something not so funny.
Brother Asa caught Isaac’s arm and pulled him on down the street. “The man has a noble idea. Of a truth it would be a fine thing if I had worn off my legs laboring our worship songs. That would surely make my lack of height a gift, rather than a burden.” Brother Asa smiled over his shoulder at the man with no animosity at all, but his smile faded when he turned back to Isaac. “It is not our way to resort to fisticuffs, my brother. The Believer’s path is peaceful.”
“I’m not a Believer,” Isaac said, his hands still clenched in fists. The man’s laughter trailed after them.
“True enough. And I fear just as true that you have no peace.”
“Peace.” Isaac’s shoulders drooped as the anger drained out of him. “It’s a fine-sounding word, but nothing I think to ever know again.”
“Peace of the spirit can be difficult to obtain in the world, but at Harmony Hill doors to peace will open up to you that you cannot begin to imagine now.” Brother Asa threw out his hands as if pushing open those doors. “A gift from Mother Ann to those who seek the truth of right living and live the Shaker way.”
Doors to peace. Isaac had no right to go through those doors. Nor did he have the right to make Brother Asa think he could be converted to a Shaker. The man had been kind to him. The least Isaac could do was be honest in return.
Isaac glanced over at Brother Asa and then stared down at the walkway as he said, “If I went with you to your village, it would be only for the food. Not as one with any idea of converting to your beliefs.”
Isaac expected his admission to upset Brother Asa, but it seemed nothing could do that. He didn’t look a bit put off. “Many before you have done the same. Winter Shakers some. Those who come for a season and leave. Others stay and become true and faithful to the Shaker way. But I daresay none were ever disappointed with the fruits of our table. Our food is plentiful and our sisters very fine cooks.” Brother Asa’s smile spread across his face again. “Plus all who come must work for their place at our table.”
“I want to work. No one will hire me here.”
“Yet you stay.” Brother Asa’s words weren’t a question, but his voice carried a query.
“I had no way to go,” Isaac said, but knew as he uttered the words they weren’t true. In the five months since Ella had died, he could have walked away from Louisville or maybe even finagled a passage on one of the steamboats. It was Ella who kept him there. Ella in that cold grave on the hill outside the town. He couldn’t simply desert her there and go on about his life as if nothing was different.
Brother Asa was eyeing him. “Do you have children from your union with this wife you lost?”
“No. We were only wed a short time before she took the fever.”
“You are a mystery, my brother. But Mother Ann warns us that worldly love can cause much upheaval in a man’s life.” Brother Asa turned his eyes away from Isaac and began walking again. His good humor returned as he kept talking. “The sort of upheaval I have never experienced. I doubt any woman ever looked on me with a lascivious eye. Praises be! Mother Ann has surely guarded me from such temptations.”
“What about before you went to the Shakers?”
“I was but a young lad when my natural mother brought me to the Shaker village. She may have known the worldly motherly love for me. I cannot say of a certainty. I have only the vaguest recollection of a gentle face under a black cap telling me goodbye. I don’t remember tears on her face or mine.”
“She left you there?”
“Children are well cared for among the Shakers. A fine place to grow up. I can vouch for that.” Brother Asa smiled over at him. “Of course except for that dancing one’s legs off to the knee.” The man laughed out loud. “I will have to share that one with Brother Henry. While joviality is not a common
Brother Asa caught Isaac’s arm and pulled him on down the street. “The man has a noble idea. Of a truth it would be a fine thing if I had worn off my legs laboring our worship songs. That would surely make my lack of height a gift, rather than a burden.” Brother Asa smiled over his shoulder at the man with no animosity at all, but his smile faded when he turned back to Isaac. “It is not our way to resort to fisticuffs, my brother. The Believer’s path is peaceful.”
“I’m not a Believer,” Isaac said, his hands still clenched in fists. The man’s laughter trailed after them.
“True enough. And I fear just as true that you have no peace.”
“Peace.” Isaac’s shoulders drooped as the anger drained out of him. “It’s a fine-sounding word, but nothing I think to ever know again.”
“Peace of the spirit can be difficult to obtain in the world, but at Harmony Hill doors to peace will open up to you that you cannot begin to imagine now.” Brother Asa threw out his hands as if pushing open those doors. “A gift from Mother Ann to those who seek the truth of right living and live the Shaker way.”
Doors to peace. Isaac had no right to go through those doors. Nor did he have the right to make Brother Asa think he could be converted to a Shaker. The man had been kind to him. The least Isaac could do was be honest in return.
Isaac glanced over at Brother Asa and then stared down at the walkway as he said, “If I went with you to your village, it would be only for the food. Not as one with any idea of converting to your beliefs.”
Isaac expected his admission to upset Brother Asa, but it seemed nothing could do that. He didn’t look a bit put off. “Many before you have done the same. Winter Shakers some. Those who come for a season and leave. Others stay and become true and faithful to the Shaker way. But I daresay none were ever disappointed with the fruits of our table. Our food is plentiful and our sisters very fine cooks.” Brother Asa’s smile spread across his face again. “Plus all who come must work for their place at our table.”
“I want to work. No one will hire me here.”
“Yet you stay.” Brother Asa’s words weren’t a question, but his voice carried a query.
“I had no way to go,” Isaac said, but knew as he uttered the words they weren’t true. In the five months since Ella had died, he could have walked away from Louisville or maybe even finagled a passage on one of the steamboats. It was Ella who kept him there. Ella in that cold grave on the hill outside the town. He couldn’t simply desert her there and go on about his life as if nothing was different.
Brother Asa was eyeing him. “Do you have children from your union with this wife you lost?”
“No. We were only wed a short time before she took the fever.”
“You are a mystery, my brother. But Mother Ann warns us that worldly love can cause much upheaval in a man’s life.” Brother Asa turned his eyes away from Isaac and began walking again. His good humor returned as he kept talking. “The sort of upheaval I have never experienced. I doubt any woman ever looked on me with a lascivious eye. Praises be! Mother Ann has surely guarded me from such temptations.”
“What about before you went to the Shakers?”
“I was but a young lad when my natural mother brought me to the Shaker village. She may have known the worldly motherly love for me. I cannot say of a certainty. I have only the vaguest recollection of a gentle face under a black cap telling me goodbye. I don’t remember tears on her face or mine.”
“She left you there?”
“Children are well cared for among the Shakers. A fine place to grow up. I can vouch for that.” Brother Asa smiled over at him. “Of course except for that dancing one’s legs off to the knee.” The man laughed out loud. “I will have to share that one with Brother Henry. While joviality is not a common
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