They were still a distance from the jail when they heard angry shouting. Rees lengthened his stride and Lydia had to trot to keep up. Glass shattered with an ugly sharp sound and a gunshot split the air, momentarily quieting the violent roar. Rees turned a desperate look upon his wife and broke into a run.
Rouge was standing in front of the jail door, facing the mob. ‘… to put this man before the magistrate,’ he was saying.
‘He’s a French spy,’ a man shouted.
‘He should be hung for that reason alone,’ another man agreed.
‘Not until he’s gone before the magistrate,’ Rouge said again. He sounded as though he’d repeated this statement over and over.
‘Who’s going to stop us from stringing the villain up?’ another man jeered.
‘Me,’ said Rouge.
‘One man?’
‘And you’ve already shot one of your pistols,’ another shouted. Rouge brandished another pistol and lifted a rifle over his head.
‘I’m here,’ Rees said, pushing his way through the crowd to join Rouge at the front. Lydia followed, sticking close by his side.
‘Two men and a boy?’
Rouge handed Rees the rifle and Lydia the empty pistol. ‘You know how to load a gun and shoot, boy?’ he asked. Although Lydia, a proper lady from Boston before she’d become one of the pacifist Shakers, had no idea how to use a gun, she nodded. He handed her the shot bag and turned back to the mob. ‘Go home,’ Rouge shouted.
‘You’re French too,’ a man said, his words slurred by drink. ‘You’re prob’ly a spy too.’
‘Go home,’ Rouge said wearily. ‘You’ve known me all your life. Go home.’
The drunken man, more daring than the rest, pushed his way out of the crowd. Brave with the crowd at his back, he stumbled toward Rees.
Rees’s breathing increased and his heart began to pound. His left eyelid began to twitch. His mind filled with the memories of facing down the mob in Dugard as he stepped forward. This time it was Lydia beside him, not their children, but his anger was the same. He would not allow anyone to menace his family.
Even in the dim light, the man saw the rage in Rees’s expression and froze. At the same instant Rouge fired the second pistol over the heads of the throng.
‘All of you have families. No point in making any of your wives widows,’ he said. ‘Go home now.’
For a moment, as Rees held his breath, the mob hesitated. He knew these men could choose either course: rushing the jail or obeying the constable. A few seconds that felt like an hour passed and then two of the men turned and stumbled away. Others followed and in a few minutes the yard in front of the jail was empty.
Lydia collapsed upon the ground as though her legs wouldn’t hold her. Rouge expelled a noisy breath. ‘That was close,’ he muttered.
‘Boudreaux might not even be guilty,’ Rees said. Oh no, his voice was shaking. He took in several deep breaths and tried to control the trembling that now had spread to his limbs. ‘Paul Reynard saw him riding on the road just after dinner. Leah hadn’t even left Zion then.’
Rouge turned to look at Rees. ‘Are you sure?’ He nodded.
‘I told you I didn’t kill anyone,’ Boudreaux shouted in a shaky voice through the barred window. Both Rees and Rouge ignored him.
‘Ask the boy yourself. He said he saw a Shaker following Shem and Leah into town.’
‘I told you,’ Boudreaux yelled. ‘I see him too.’
It was now so dark Rees could see only the faint shine of Rouge’s eyes and teeth. ‘We must hide him’ – Rees jerked his head at the jail – ‘somewhere.’
‘I know,’ the constable agreed. ‘None of that lot’ – and he gestured at the yard where the mob had recently stood – ‘will listen to reason. Especially when they are liquored up and ready to brawl.’
‘But where?’ Now that he felt steadier, Rees took the pistol from Lydia and handed both firearms to Rouge.
‘Not at the farm,’ Lydia said, speaking for the first time. Rouge peered at her, shocked to hear a woman’s voice from this boy.
‘Mrs Rees?’ he said in disapproving surprise.
‘I won’t have the children put in danger. Not again,’ she said.
‘Then Zion?’ Rouge suggested hopefully.
‘No,’ Rees said. ‘Even if I wanted to suggest it, they won’t agree. When they took in your niece last winter, one of the Sisters was murdered in her stead. Jonathan won’t be willing to risk that again.’
‘I can’t leave him here,’ Rouge said. ‘What if the mob comes back? They might break down the door and hang the poor bastard.’
‘Why are you asking me?’ Rees said unsympathetically. ‘You told me not to meddle, remember? You specifically told me not to involve myself in this investigation. Lucky for you, I did, otherwise the hanging of an innocent man would be on your conscience.’
‘We don’t know he’s innocent,’ Rouge said.
‘This problem is yours,’ Rees said. Turning, he held out a hand to Lydia.
As they began retracing their steps toward the circus – and their wagon – Rouge called out behind them, ‘Wait. What shall I do?’
Rees walked a few more steps before turning to face Rouge. ‘Why don’t you take him to that papist church you attend,’ he suggested. ‘It’s out of town and I’ll warrant most of these men don’t even know where it is. You can guard him there. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’
‘All night? By myself? Merde,’ Rouge said with feeling.
FOURTEEN
Once out of earshot of the constable, Rees turned to Lydia and said furiously, ‘What were you doing? You put yourself in jeopardy with this little stunt.’
‘I was in no danger until you rushed forward like St George on a white horse,’ Lydia replied just as angrily. ‘Why did you think you needed to do that?’
‘You should have been home with the children,’ Rees said, knowing as soon as the words left his mouth that that was the worst thing to say.
‘And maybe you should have been too instead of running off every chance you get,’ she retorted. Since this was exactly what David had said more than once Rees could think of no reply. Despite his anger he recognized a certain validity to her accusation. After a few seconds of silence, he turned to look at her and saw her inhaling several times.
‘I don’t want anything to happen to you,’ he said.
‘It was a very frightening experience,’ she said finally, in a much calmer voice. ‘Will, please, let’s not quarrel now when our emotions are running so high.’
‘Why didn’t you at least stay back?’ Rees asked in what he thought was a reasonable tone.
‘I thought I would be safer with you,’ she said.
Rees paused, pleased and a little scared too by the trust she placed in him. He pulled her into his arms. The top of the battered straw hat scratched his neck and chin. ‘I don’t know what I would do if something I did harmed you,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Will, Will,’ she said, her involuntary laugh catching in her throat. ‘You are not responsible for everything in this world.’ She pulled herself from his arms. ‘I wanted to see the circus and despite what happened after I will never regret it. Let’s go home. Jerusha must be wondering what has happened to us. And anyway, if someone saw us they’d wonder why you were embracing a boy with such affection.’
‘You make a very pretty boy,’ Rees teased.
Lydia laughed and, clapping the hat upon her head, began running down the street. Rees easily caught up and they walked together in a companionable silence to the wagon.
Rees sat up in bed gasping, his body cold with nervous sweat. The angry faces of a mob facing him, one man drawing a rope through his hands, as they approached. He looked at Lydia, sleeping peacefully beside him with her braid across the pillow, and slowly eased himself out of bed. His heart was still pounding in his chest and he was trembling. With the passage of time, the nightmares had come less frequently but after yesterday’s experience t
he old terror had returned.
In his dream the mob had been made up of men from Dugard as well as from the mob in front of the jail and this time they caught both Lydia and Rees. He tried to escape, tried to save Lydia, but the harder he struggled the more the air around him held him tight.
He pulled on his breeches and shirt and wrapped a quilt over his shoulders. He couldn’t help peeking into the bedrooms, just to make sure the children were safe, before going down the shadowed stairs to the kitchen. He stirred up the fire and watched the sparks rise to the chimney a few seconds before setting up the coffee pot. This is what he did every morning, just not quite so early. Although only the first gray of morning was beginning to creep through the kitchen window, he could hear Daisy mooing in the barn. The birds were beginning to wake up and chirp. The sheer ordinariness of his surroundings calmed him.
Realizing he was hungry – he and Lydia had arrived home late last night and had eaten more of a snack than supper – he tore off the heel of a loaf of bread. Jerusha had put the younger children to bed and, unable to just sit, she had made bread and set it to rise. It had just come out of the oven when Rees and Lydia had walked through the door the previous evening.
‘Really, Will,’ Lydia said from the doorway, ‘use your knife.’
‘I didn’t want to wake you,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder.
‘Cutting bread with a knife?’ she asked, stepping into the kitchen. ‘Although I admit I had a little trouble falling to sleep. The excitement, I suppose.’ Rees said nothing. He would not have called the confrontation at the jail ‘exciting’. But Lydia did not know how terrible it had been in Dugard – he had kept the worst from her – so she did not realize how much he was reminded of it by the mob at the jail.
‘Did Jerusha ask you about the circus?’ he asked instead.
‘Yes,’ Lydia smiled. ‘She was particularly interested in the ladies and their short dresses.’
‘Yes. Shocking. But I imagine Miss Mazza would have had trouble crossing the rope in a long gown,’ he said.
Lydia sighed. ‘Indeed. I wish I could always wear breeches.’
‘What’s happening with Annie?’ Rees asked, changing the subject. ‘She’s been spending a lot of time here. So much so Sister Agatha remarked on it.’
Lydia hesitated and then replied in a rush. ‘She does not want to become a Shaker.’
Rees nodded. ‘Annie told me that herself.’
‘She wants to live with a family, with children.’
Rees dissected Lydia’s statement in silence. ‘She wants to live here?’ he asked finally.
‘Yes,’ Lydia said, adding sadly, ‘I think she has given up the hope that her young man will find her. She hasn’t received a letter in some time.’
‘I never expected that to succeed,’ Rees said. ‘They were both very young. And now the boy has been away at sea for several years. Why, we don’t even know if he’s alive. Sailing on a merchant ship is a dangerous profession.’
‘I think she suspects he’s dead,’ Lydia admitted, ‘but please don’t suggest that. She is upset enough.’ Rees nodded, glad he did not have to involve himself in these feminine vapors. ‘You know she’ll be here again this morning? She’ll watch Sharon and Joseph for me while I join you when you question that boy. Shem.’
‘I suppose that’s the silver lining,’ Rees said as he pulled on the boots.
‘I can’t deny she’s a great help,’ Lydia said. ‘But don’t worry, she won’t be coming to live here. At least not for now. I think it best she remains in Zion for the time being.’
Rees nodded, distracted. He knew Lydia would not want to hear his plan. ‘After I bring you home I plan to return to the circus.’ Lydia directed a stare of dismayed surprise at him. ‘Leah was strangled,’ he went on, hurrying to speak so his words tripped over one another, ‘by someone with large hands. I noticed yesterday that both Asher and Otto have large hands. I want to take another look at them. I forgot last night – in all the excitement.’ Grinning at her, he put on his old coat. She did not smile back.
‘I’d like to come,’ she said. Although Rees nodded, he experienced a curious revulsion. He did not want her with him.
‘Would Annie stay so long?’ he asked, smiling.
She shook her head and did not speak. He interpreted her silence as acquiescence. Although Bambola had invited Lydia to visit and promised to read the cards for her, Rees found himself reluctant to invite his wife along on his next visit.
He stepped onto the porch and breathed in the chilly air. Although the calendar would soon turn the page into May, frost glittered on every surface. But the sky was flushed with light and he knew that with the sun’s rise the day would warm. He crossed the yard. As he entered the barn he began to whistle. He pulled the milking stool and pail over to the cow. Usually he hated farm chores of any kind, but today pressing his head into Daisy’s warm flank and hearing the milk hiss into the pail relaxed him. The remaining fear and the desperation left by the last night’s dream faded.
He heard the children come outside for their chores: Jerusha to fetch water, Nancy to collect eggs and Judah to gather firewood. Annie was already here, he heard the lower tones of her voice among the other higher sopranos. All the Shakers rose early but she must have left Zion before breakfast. Rees hoped she had told someone where she was going before she walked to the farm.
When he carried the brimming pails back into the house, Lydia was dressed in a sober dark-blue gown, her hair confined to a cap. Rees smiled at her. He vowed he would never ever tell her how desirable she’d appeared in her boy’s clothing, her limbs exposed in breeches and stockings.
They ate breakfast quickly. Lydia gave Annie some last-minute instructions, draped a light shawl over her shoulders, and then they were on their way. Now that the sun had been up for a few hours the temperature was rising – just as Rees expected. The frosty ground had become mud.
‘This is my favorite time of year,’ Lydia said, looking around her with pleasure. ‘Soon everything will be green.’
‘Not mine,’ Rees said. ‘I prefer the summer, when all the planting is done and the harvest still in the future.’
‘Hmmm,’ Lydia said with a sideways glance. ‘One would almost believe you a lazy man.’
‘I am,’ Rees said. ‘Laziest man this side of the Atlantic.’
‘We’ll all starve then,’ Lydia replied. She did not sound as if she were joking but Rees laughed anyway.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll start planting the buckwheat as soon as I get home. And I’m sending a letter to David asking him to come.’ A pleat formed between Lydia’s brows and her mouth opened as though she would speak. But instead she closed her mouth and directed her gaze to the chapped and work-worn hands clasped at her waist. ‘I’ll have money from my weaving,’ Rees reassured her. ‘We can hire help. And I see some things sprouting in your kitchen garden. Peas, I think. We won’t starve.’ Lydia did not smile.
‘Peas and greens,’ she said. ‘Soon I’ll put in the beets and turnips.’ As she described how she would lay out her garden, Rees’s thoughts began to drift. How had Rouge and Boudreaux fared during the night? Had the trick rider admitted anything to the constable? Would he allow Boudreaux to return to the circus?
Once Rees thought of the circus his thoughts were drawn inevitably to Bambola. For him, she would always be the angel dancing overhead in her sparkling dress, untethered to the mundane world below. Her world was one of magic and enchantment, not the workaday world of farming chores.
‘You aren’t listening to me,’ Lydia said, putting her hand on Rees’s wrist.
‘Yes, I am,’ he lied.
‘No, you’re not. Nobody looks that excited about beets. What are you thinking about?’
‘Nothing. Just wondering if I’ll have to give evidence in front of the magistrate.’ That was not untrue; he had thought about it. Lydia’s brows rose.
‘You seem surprisingly pleased about that.’
‘I’
m not. Piggy will now know where we are. He might try to send us back to Dugard.’ And Rees would fight him every step.
‘Don’t you want to go home?’
‘Maybe. But not if the warrant is still out for your arrest. You could be put on trial for witchcraft.’
‘Surely not,’ she said hopefully. ‘I must believe all of that distrust has faded.’
Rees did not know how to answer her. His anger had barely diminished and when he thought of Dugard and how the town had turned on him and his family he was furious all over again.
‘We left almost two years ago,’ she continued. ‘And once your sister moved to Rumsford …’ Her voice trailed away as she stared around at Zion’s crowded main street. ‘What are all the Shakers doing outside?’
Rees looked around. Usually, by this time of the morning, most of the community was busy working. The street should be almost empty.
‘Something’s happened,’ he said, throwing a worried glance at Lydia. He slapped the reins down on Hannibal’s back. Whatever crisis had taken these people away from their chores and into the street could not be good.
The wagon rattled past the Meeting House and into the center of the village. As soon as they reached the Dwelling House and began to slow down, Daniel ran over. Grabbing the reins, he pulled the horse to a stop. ‘Where’s Shem?’ he demanded. ‘Is he with you?’
‘Shem?’ Rees repeated. ‘No, we haven’t seen him.’
‘I hoped since Annie went to your farm that Shem—’ Daniel’s words lurched to a stop.
‘Annie came to us but not Shem,’ Rees said, turning to look at Lydia. ‘In fact, that’s why we’re here. I wanted to speak to the boy, ask him a few more questions.’
‘Well, you can’t,’ Daniel said, sounding angry.
‘Why not?’
‘He’s gone,’ Daniel said. ‘Disappeared. We don’t know where he is.’
FIFTEEN
Although both Aaron and Daniel told Rees they had searched the room Shem shared with another boy and found nothing, Rees insisted on searching it once again. He also found nothing, not so much as a scrap of paper. But then Shem, who had only lately come to Zion, probably did not read or write.
A Circle of Dead Girls Page 9