Small Favors

by Erin A. Craig

  “I…I love it. Thank you. It’s just…perfect.”

  He grinned, clearly pleased that I liked his choice. “Why don’t you take them back inside? I’m ready to come out, and I don’t need your ogling eyes roving about my naked frame. I’m quite modest, I’ll have you know.”

  With a smile, I turned to go. My heart felt lighter than it had in weeks, and I was already dreaming up patterns for the new fabrics. I pictured wearing the pink voile next spring, sitting in a field of wildflowers with Whitaker. We’d hunt for four-leaf clovers until twilight came and we could no longer see anything but the twinkle of fireflies and a heartbreakingly large crescent moon.

  “Oh, Ellerie?” he called after me, interrupting the daydream. His eyes sparkled green and amber as he smiled up at me. “I missed you too.”

  The sound of hammers filled the crisp autumn air, their cheerful tapping carrying across the farm. As the men of Amity Falls shouted and laughed outside, framing out the new supply shed, our kitchen was being turned upside down as the wives bustled about, preparing for the noon meal.

  Chicken sizzled.

  Biscuits rose.

  Pies steamed at open windows.

  But even these wafting aromas were not enough to overpower the scent of sawdust. It permeated the morning, covering everything outdoors with a fine silky film. Sadie and her friends had been charged with keeping it out of the house, and they ran races with their wide straw brooms, their merriment infectious.

  “It was awfully good of you all to come out,” I mentioned to Charlotte Dodson as she whipped a bowl of egg whites into lofty peaks. “We’d never be able to rebuild the shed so quickly on our own.”

  “When neighbors reach for helping hand…,” she said with a smile.

  “Extend your own, as God commands,” the rest of the kitchen spoke up, reciting the last part of the sixth Rule.

  “All the same, I’m so very grateful to everyone. All of us are.”

  I glanced out the window at Samuel. He was looking over a drawing Matthias Dodson had sketched out. The Elder was pointing to some detail, and Sam nodded, an unusual solemnity weighting his face.

  “It was a terrible thing that happened to you Downings,” Charlotte said, spooning out the meringue over the pie crust I’d labored over. “Terrible. We’re just happy we can help in some way.”

  She stole a quick glance toward the Danforth farm and shook her head. Nearly no one had seen Rebecca or Mark since the Judgment. They’d hidden away in their cabin, cloaked in grief and rage.

  “Perhaps we could bring them a plate after the meal,” I suggested, and her cheeks colored, as if she was embarrassed to be caught staring.

  “The Danforths aren’t receiving visitors,” she said, then carefully added, “at least not from our group.”

  “Group?” I echoed, looking about the kitchen.

  Martha McCleary and Cora Schäfer worked together ladling beans as Violet Buhrman stirred a simmering pot of dumplings and gravy.

  “Founding families,” she murmured, dropping her voice. “She blames us for what happened to her pa. Now the only person Rebecca Danforth will let darken her door is the parson and his family. I saw Clemency and Letitia riding up on the buggy earlier today.” She shook her head.

  “I…I’m sure he’s a comfort to them in these times,” I said, stringing together words that felt far too grown-up to be coming from my lips.

  After a pause, Charlotte nodded.

  Merry and Bonnie Maddin came in, giggling. We’d set up a long series of tables in the side yard, and they’d been busy all morning, laying out napkins, plates, and cutlery.

  “Mr. Dodson wanted to know what time the meal will be ready,” Merry said.

  “We’re just about ready to start serving up the chicken,” Martha called out. “Ellerie, can you get me a serving bowl or two? I’m not sure where your mother keeps them.”

  I ducked into the larder, and stood on tiptoe to pull down Mama’s wedding china. We didn’t use it often, but I wanted to show my appreciation for everyone’s hard work today, however I could.

  A scream sliced through the air, and I nearly dropped the bowl from my hands.

  Its high pitch was unmistakably Sadie’s.

  “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” I raced out, praying there’d not been an accident.

  The kitchen was empty.

  All the women stood on the porch, hands shielding their eyes as they squinted at the commotion in the yard.

  A monstrous, hulking thing lay in the dirt.

  At first, my mind couldn’t wrap around what I was seeing. There was fur and feathers. Sharp pointed ears. Sharper teeth. Giant curved talons poking from enormous padded paws.

  “What is that?” I dared to whisper, horrified the beast would turn its head toward me and devour us all.

  “It’s dead,” Cora murmured, stepping away from the safety of the porch.

  The thing was unnervingly still.

  All of the yard was.

  The men had stopped their work, had dropped their tools where they stood. Saws and hammers littered the ground like confetti. Most of them stared, slack-jawed, at the creature, but Calvin Buhrman studied something beyond the beast.

  Someone.

  “Ezra?” he asked, his tone incredulous enough to draw the others’ attention. “Is that you?”

  My gaze drifted toward the tall figure standing beside a cart I only now noticed.

  He looked to be around forty, maybe a little younger, though an unlikely pair of gold spectacles balanced precariously on the end of his nose. His hair was as dark as coffee beans, and his skin was sun-kissed and freckled. This was a man used to being outdoors, fighting the elements, and—judging from his well-toned muscles—winning.

  Another man was with him, still seated in the wagon. A boy no older than myself. Chocolate-brown eyes gleamed beneath a mop of dark curls. His lips upturned, his smile easy. There was no doubt the two men were related.

  “I can’t believe it—Ezra Downing—in the flesh?” Matthias asked, stepping toward the stranger.

  Ezra Downing?

  Papa’s long-lost younger brother.

  My uncle.

  “We all thought you’d died,” Martha McCleary said, joining everyone in the yard and peering up at him. “You went into the woods and just disappeared.” She circled around him, even going so far as to grab his chin and tilt his face from side to side. “You look just like Gideon.”

  Did he?

  I stared at him critically.

  There was a resemblance, I supposed. A bit of familiarity around the eyes. I could make that out even around the glasses.

  “A Downing through and through,” she declared.

  There was a long beat before the stranger, Ezra, my uncle, nodded.

  “Yes. Yes. I’ve finally returned home to Amity Falls.” He took off his spectacles and polished the glass on the corner of his vest. Once they were clean, he returned them to the bridge of his nose and looked around the yard, acknowledging everyone there. “It’s so good to see you all again.”

  “Where have you been, Downing? It’s been nearly twenty years!” Matthias clutched the man’s shoulder, bringing him in for a closer examination.

  “Out beyond the pass—in the city. I…I wanted to find my way in the world, but…I’ve traveled long enough and just wanted to come back home.” The young man sitting at the buckboard of the cart coughed discreetly. “And I’ve brought my son back with me. Thomas.”

  Thomas nodded.

  “Where is Gideon?” Ezra asked, sweeping his eyes over the gathering.

  “He’s gone,” Amos McCleary said, rubbing his thumb over the miniature Founder Tree at the top of his cane, his cataracts glaring an otherworldly blue in the morning light. “There was an accident.”

  The man’s face paled,
and he pressed a hand to his mouth. “No. Is he…”

  “There was a fire,” I said, unable to keep from stepping forward. I wanted to see the man who was my uncle face to face for myself. “His wife was badly burned. They went to the city for her to convalesce.”

  “And he’s—was he all right?”

  “As well as can be expected.”

  “This is Gideon’s daughter Ellerie,” Matthias filled in. Then he pointed to Merry and Sadie. “His eldest girl.”

  “My niece,” the man said, appraising me with fresh eyes.

  “And nephew,” Sam said, moving in closer. “Samuel Downing.”

  “Look at you. Both of you,” Ezra said. “You look so much like him.”

  Sam and I exchanged quick glances. We both had Mama’s coloring.

  “Uncle Ezra,” I said once it was clear that someone would have to speak. I offered my hand. “What an unexpected pleasure to meet you.”

  His hand clasped around mine lightly, as if he wasn’t certain his touch would be welcome. He moved on to Sam, then threw a small wave to Merry and Sadie.

  I turned to the cart. “Cousin Thomas.”

  “Cousin Ellerie. Cousin Samuel,” he greeted. For a moment, I thought his voice held a strange melodic cadence to it, an accent unheard in these parts of the world, but as he greeted Merry and Sadie, who’d finally crept forward, it was gone.

  “Did you…did you bring this…creature with you?” I asked, though it was obvious they had.

  “We came across it wandering in the forest as we made our journey here.”

  “In a pack?” Winthrop Mullins asked, his eyes shining with eager interest.

  Ezra shook his head. “No…this one was on its own. I know it looks positively ferocious, but it was quite disoriented and weak. It only took one well-placed shot to fell it.”

  He strode over to the monster and pulled its head up, revealing a broken arrow jutting from its neck.

  It’s a wolf, I realized belatedly. Mostly.

  “Remarkable,” Matthias murmured in seeming admiration. He knelt down beside the misshapen animal and gingerly poked at its talons. “Almost like a harpy, isn’t it? And…are those feathers?”

  “Possibly,” Ezra said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “And you said it was all alone?”

  He nodded. “Have there been others of its kind around here?”

  “No…not exactly. There was a stag about a month ago. Elk, I think…ghastly thing.”

  “Malformed?” Ezra asked. “Like this?” He nudged the creature’s tail with the tip of his boot. The gray fur was punctuated with long quills that looked dangerous even with the animal dead.

  Matthias’s eyes raked over the carcass. “Yes.”

  My uncle scratched at the stubble of his beard thoughtfully. “I wonder if—”

  “Perhaps this isn’t the best place to discuss this, Father,” Thomas said, nodding his head toward the house. “There are ladies present, and we’ve clearly interrupted some festivities.”

  “Of course, of course. I only—”

  “It’s a workday,” Matthias said. “We’re raising up a new shed for the Downings. The old one burned away with the fire. In fact, we were just about to sit down for a meal. Join us, won’t you? I’m sure we’d all love to hear your tales.”

  “Please.” Sam nodded encouragingly. “We’d be honored to have you with us, Uncle Ezra.”

  Ezra waved off Sam’s words. “That’s far too formal for me. ‘Ezra’ is fine. Just fine.”

  * * *

  The benches filled quickly as most of the adults vied for a place near the center section, where Matthias sat with Ezra, deep in discussion. Sam had sat across from them, listening in rapt wonder.

  Thomas hung back, his ears acutely red as a gaggle of Merry’s friends huddled nearby, preening for the object of their whispered giggles. He was undoubtedly handsome, with a sophisticated air unknown in the other boys in town. I couldn’t begrudge the girls their admiration, but I did want to set my new cousin at ease.

  “Sit with me?” I asked, pointing toward a quiet section.

  He nodded gratefully.

  At the other end of the tables, Amos raised his hands. We all bowed our heads for his blessing. “For that which we are about to receive, we offer thanks. For the hands that prepared it, we offer gratitude. For the new faces who’ve joined us, we offer welcome.” Prayer done, he sank onto the rickety bench and slapped his knee. “Now, who will pass me one of Martha’s biscuits?”

  I let Thomas fill up his plate with chicken and dumplings. He tore into the green beans first, clearly ravenous.

  “So, Thomas Downing.”

  He swallowed back a mouthful before responding. “Cousin Ellerie.”

  “Just ‘Ellerie,’ ” I said, echoing his father. “I’ve never had a cousin before.”

  “Nor I,” he said, and again I felt as though I wasn’t hearing his true voice, but a disguise.

  “Have you lived in the city all your life?”

  His eyes darted toward Ezra, boisterously laughing over something Leland Schäfer had said. “Yes. Mostly.”

  “I’ve never been before,” I admitted, and he relaxed into an easy smile.

  “It’s quite grand.”

  Perhaps this was just the way people in the city spoke, peppering their speech with unfamiliar “quites” and “grands,” so much more affected than I was accustomed to.

  “Why on earth would you want to leave all that to come to the Falls?” Bonnie Maddin asked, three spots down. She and Merry were wedged together on a stool truly only big enough for one.

  “As Father said—it was time to come home.”

  “After being gone so long? Everyone thought you were dead.” Merry blinked at her mistake. “Well, not you—your pa. Has he ever talked about what happened to him in the woods? People have wondered about it for years.”

  Thomas’s eyebrows rose. “Is it so strange for a boy to go missing in the forest here?”

  “There’ve been many stories about what happened to him,” I said, eager to finally hear the truth as well. “Most people assumed he’d died. Others thought he must have run into the creatures in the woods.”

  “The monsters,” Sadie clarified, drawn away from her conversation with Trinity Brewster.

  “Monsters? Like—like that?” Thomas asked, pointing to the wolf-thing.

  I shook my head. “Different monsters. Older ones.”

  “How many beasts are those pines meant to keep?” he asked, his eyes bright with mirth.

  No one at the table joined his laughter.

  “There—there are a lot of stories,” I said charitably. “Legends.”

  “Are you really moving to Amity Falls?” Trinity asked.

  He picked up a fried chicken leg, studying its crispy skin, before nodding. “I suppose so. Father is the one with all the plans.”

  “Where’s your mother?” Merry asked. Then she cupped a hand over her mouth, aghast. “That was too prying. I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head. “Long gone. It’s just been Father and me for years.”

  Bonnie clucked sympathetically. “Where will you stay?”

  My eyes darted to the farmhouse.

  I wondered if we ought to invite them to stay with us. Papa and Mama’s room was empty, and we could try to squeeze another ticked mattress into the loft. They were family, with nowhere to go. It was the right thing to do.

  But something held me back from offering such hospitality.

  They were family, true, but we didn’t know anything about them.

  “I…I’m not sure,” Thomas said, pushing back a wave of hair. “Is there a boardinghouse in town? Somewhere we could let a room or two?”

  “The Buhrmans have a room at the tavern,” Me
rry said, pointing out Calvin and Violet. “It’s usually kept open for anyone too drunk to ride home, but I’m certain they’d let you stay there.”

  It was a relief to know she wasn’t keen on them staying with us either.

  “That man mentioned seeing a stag….Did any of you see it?” Thomas asked, pushing his fork about on the plate, searching for morsels hidden away in the gravy. He looked up, his dark eyes falling on me.

  “We were there when the McNallys brought it in. It was…so strange-looking. It was like the wolf….Its shape was a stag, but nothing else made sense.”

  “Have there been others like it?”

  I started to shake my head, but Merry stopped me. “The foals at Judd Abrams’s ranch.”

  Bonnie nodded enthusiastically. “Abominations, all of them.”

  “When it was alive…” I looked back toward the fallen body, studying its grotesque appearance. “Did you notice what its eyes were like?”

  Thomas tilted his head. “Yes. We could see him tracking us all last night, two bright spots beaming out of the darkness. They were a strange silver. It wasn’t until this morning that we saw the…full extent of him.”

  “There’s been talk around town about a thing with silver eyes. That must have been it.”

  “Must have,” Thomas said, his own eyes shifting to the beast.

  “What could cause a wolf to look like that?”

  He shrugged. “Nature can be quite cruel. But there weren’t any others with it, at least, thank God. Can you imagine an entire forest full of those things?”

  “You were awfully brave to go after it,” Bonnie said, propping her elbows on the table to lean closer to him. “If I ever had to venture into those woods, I’d want someone like you at my side.” Her lashes fluttered like the wings of a butterfly, and Thomas turned bright red.

  “It—it wasn’t anything,” he stammered.

  “Oh, but it was! It was the most—”

  “At least that mystery has been solved,” I said, interrupting whatever platitudes Bonnie was about to utter. “Over and done with.”

  “Rule Number Two: Tend your land, your beasts, your field, and prosperous bounties the Falls will yield.”