Simply Dead

by Eleanor Kuhns

  Rouge rose to his feet and said with ill grace, ‘Yes, I suppose we should go.’ He helped himself to another drink and drained it before following Rees from the kitchen.

  TEN

  At the end of the Bennett drive, the deeply rutted track went up the hill at almost a ninety-degree angle. Although some traffic had passed this way, there had been too little to tramp down the snow and it caught at the wheels, pulling the wagon back as Hannibal struggled to keep his footing.

  The road veered away from cliff edges or rock walls in switchbacks and hairpin turns, adding to the challenging climb. As Hannibal strained against the weight of the wagon, Rouge jumped down to walk alongside and lighten the load. Rees wished he could do the same. He hated to see the gelding puffing and blowing with effort.

  Finally they reached a small plateau – and a few buildings – before the road continued on its upward trajectory. This tiny settlement comprised a general store and a tavern perched at the edge of an overhang. As the two men had climbed up, clouds had swept across the sky and the air had grown significantly colder. The stream at the back of the tavern was frozen and there was a lot more snow here too, at least a foot. When Rees turned in toward the shop he had to follow the tracks of vehicles and horses that had come before them so his wagon would not catch fast in the deep drifts.

  A cluster of empty barrels lined up on the porch identified the store. Rees threw the horse blanket over Hannibal, whose head was wreathed in fog from his panting, and followed Rouge inside.

  The aisles were packed with merchandise and sacks as well as whittled hoops and stacks of jugs. Rouge and Rees picked their way around the clutter to the man standing at the counter. Smoke from the fireplace with its poor draw drifted through the air. Rees began coughing.

  The storekeeper stared at Rouge for a few seconds and then ejected a stream of tobacco juice to one side. Brown stains already coated the floor around him. ‘What do you want, Constable?’ His tone made the title ‘constable’ an epithet.

  ‘Mr Morton,’ Rouge said, his tone as harsh as Rees had ever heard it. ‘My niece was kidnapped by someone up here.’ Rees glanced from one man to the other, interpreting their rigid stances, like the raised hackles of growling dogs, as a bad history between them. ‘What do you know about it?’

  The storekeeper stiffened. ‘Nothing. And why’d you suspect one of our boys, Frenchman?’ he demanded angrily.

  ‘Because she said she was taken up the hill by two boys, Jem and Jake.’

  The storekeeper spit again and laughed. ‘Plenty of boys up here called Jake and Jem.’ But his gaze shifted sideways.

  ‘You’re a liar,’ Rouge said. The shopkeeper took a few steps forward, limping, his hand tightening around his cane.

  ‘Hortense wasn’t hurt and she is back home with her family,’ Rees said quickly.

  ‘So why come up here then?’ Morton asked.

  ‘Because they came down to the valley looking for her a few times. And it sounds like she witnessed something. Maybe a murder. At the very least a fight.’

  ‘I ain’t heard of anything,’ said the storekeeper. ‘Far’s I know, nobody been killed up here.’

  ‘Listen,’ Rouge said, stepping forward until he was nose to nose with the shopkeeper, ‘you better help me or I’ll drag you down off this hill and—’

  ‘Help you? You ain’t given me anything to help you with. Not even proper names.’

  Since he spoke only the truth, neither Rouge nor Rees could think of anything to say for several seconds. The silence continued until it became awkward. The storekeeper grinned, displaying his rotting brown teeth.

  ‘She’s a midwife,’ Rees said in desperation. ‘Bernadette’s daughter Hortense. She was called out to help Mrs Bennett.’

  ‘Yeah, I know who she is,’ Morton said. ‘Don’t matter. No one is going to talk to you.’ His gaze turned to Rouge.

  ‘My sister didn’t want to come up here, to this Godforsaken place,’ Rouge said angrily. He took in a deep breath as Rees put a hand on his arm.

  ‘Would Granny Rose speak to us?’ he asked, clutching at the only other name he knew.

  ‘And why would she talk to you?’ the shopkeeper demanded.

  Rees could feel Rouge trembling with fury and said sharply, ‘When the boys came down to the valley they attacked my eleven-year-old daughter.’

  Morton did not speak for several seconds. His jaws pulsed as he ruminated. ‘I ain’t heard nothing,’ he said finally. ‘Not one word. But there’s a lot of families living higher up.’ He paused and Rees could see him wrestling with himself. ‘It’s winter. Snow’s getting bad. I don’t see everyone like I might during the summer. A lot of the men work in the lumber camps and I don’t even see them in the tavern.’ He jerked his head left, toward the ordinary on the other side of the store’s wall. ‘They don’t bring me barrel hoops or maple syrup and won’t until spring. Hides once in a while, that’s all. You’re best off, I suppose, talking to Granny Rose. She and that old mule of hers gets everywhere. She mighta heard something.’

  ‘And where does Granny Rose live?’ Rouge said in resignation.

  ‘Oh, an hour or so away. Straight up.’ The shopkeeper grinned with malicious enjoyment. ‘Follow the road outside. Take the second left.’

  Rees recalled his visit to Western Pennsylvania in 1793. These directions reminded him powerfully of the settlers and the few roads in the mountains around Pittsburgh.

  ‘Thank you,’ Rouge said. He did not sound grateful. ‘Let’s go.’ Rees preceded the constable from the store, almost running to the fresh clean air outside.

  In their time inside, the clouds had thickened and the sky looked like curdled milk. A few fat white flakes spun lazily from the sky. Rees looked east. He could see only forest, ranks of trees marching up to the sky. But he knew behind this steep incline were other peaks.

  ‘Looks like more snow is coming,’ Rouge said. Rees turned around. A bank of black clouds hung over the mountains to the west. He could not see the town of Durham far below; thick evergreens interspersed with the gray leafless branches of maples and oaks seemed to continue forever and they completely occluded the valley underneath.

  ‘It might not make it this far east,’ Rees said. He did not sound hopeful.

  ‘I don’t want to be caught up here in a storm,’ Rouge said, meeting Rees’s gaze. ‘I didn’t want to spend tomorrow up here but it looks as though we may have to return come daylight. Besides, it is growing late. The sun will set in a few hours.’

  Rees nodded reluctantly. The District of Maine, especially here, lay so far east the day seemed to last only six or so hours. Night would come soon. Still, it seemed foolish to turn around and go home when they were already on Gray Hill. He looked up at the sky. Without the sun, it was impossible to guess the time and he had left his pocket watch at home. But his belly was growling, telling him it was long past dinner time. And he had to be at the school in time to collect Jerusha and her siblings. He thought of his daughter, or any young girl, being kidnapped away from their home and family, brought up to this isolated place, and shuddered. This was a foreign country here in the hills. He was accustomed to feeling like an outsider but Rouge, despite growing up not ten miles away, had not been welcomed with any civility either.

  ‘You’re cold anyway,’ Rouge said, mistaking the cause of Rees’s shiver. ‘We’ll return tomorrow.’

  ‘We should leave first thing,’ Rees said. ‘I’ll meet you in town as soon as possible after daybreak.’ Rouge nodded as he hauled himself into the wagon seat but he was frowning. Rees knew the constable was unhappy to spend another day on what he thought was a fool’s errand. But Rees thought Rouge was too confident of his niece’s safety in town.

  They started down the steep incline. Both men rode in the wagon to give it some weight. Even so, it rolled too fast, the wheels in danger of outpacing Hannibal. The gelding wanted to run faster and faster to escape the rattling vehicle behind him and Rees spent a difficult hour trying to hold
the alarmed gelding in check. Finally, in an effort to slow them down before they careened off the mountain, as well as to rest his sore arms, he fell into a pattern of stopping every ten yards or so. It made for a jerky descent but at least he felt he maintained some control. And they descended at a reasonable pace.

  On one of the stops he looked back. Although the forest surrounded them and the hamlet where they’d stopped was invisible, Rees could see through a cleft to the row of highlands behind this one. Like pointed teeth, some shorter, some taller, the peaks rose to the sky. From this vantage the white snow-covered tops became one with the clouds.

  ELEVEN

  Rees finished his chores early and was just sitting down for breakfast before driving into town when he heard hoof beats outside. Throwing a ‘what now?’ look at Lydia, he rose to his feet and went to the door. He thrust it open just as Rouge raised his fist to knock. Behind him Rees saw Bernadette and Hortense, the latter muffled to the eyebrows in her light-gray cloak. Had he mistaken his agreement with the constable and planned to meet here?

  ‘I’m not ready,’ he began.

  But Rouge held up a hand to stop the flow of words. ‘Can we come in?’ he asked. ‘I need to talk to you.’

  Rees stepped back from the door and motioned the three people in.

  ‘What happened?’ Lydia asked, moving forward to take the wraps.

  Bernadette looked at Rees. ‘I owe you an apology,’ she said. Her eyes were red and puffy from recent tears. He turned an inquiring look on Rouge.

  ‘Bernadette’s house was broken into last night,’ he said.

  ‘They came through the front door,’ Bernadette said in a thick voice. ‘Into my house.’

  ‘Oh my dear,’ Lydia said, stretching out a hand to take Bernadette’s. The midwife’s lips began to tremble. She did not speak for a few seconds.

  ‘I sleep lightly. I must. I am always ready to leave my bed on a moment’s notice to attend a woman in labor. So I heard them. I lit a candle and started downstairs. They were just coming up the stairs, the two young ruffians.’

  ‘What happened?’ Lydia asked in a hushed voice.

  ‘I threw my candle at them,’ Bernadette said. She forced a smile. ‘Of course it didn’t do anything. The flame guttered out when the candleholder fell to the floor. I suppose I was fortunate I didn’t set my house on fire.’ She turned to Rees. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t believe you.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that now,’ he said, brushing the apology aside. ‘Hortense?’

  ‘Safe, thanks to you,’ Bernadette said, her eyes filling with tears.

  ‘After you warned us, we moved her to a room above the tavern,’ Rouge said. ‘I spent the night outside her door.’

  ‘You left your sister alone?’ Lydia asked, her voice rising in dismay.

  ‘I sent Thomas to her,’ Rouge said. ‘He spent the night in my sister’s house.’

  ‘In Hortense’s room at the top of the stairs,’ Bernadette said. ‘When he heard me screaming he came flying down the stairs with a butcher knife.’ Bernadette uttered a shaky laugh. ‘Those two villains fled when they saw him.’

  Rees nodded and looked around. His children were within earshot and Jerusha at least was listening intently. ‘Let’s remove to the front room,’ he suggested.

  ‘I’m sure you are all cold and probably hungry,’ Lydia said. ‘May I offer you tea or coffee?’ Her forehead puckered. ‘Oh dear, I have only yesterday’s cake.’

  Rouge accepted cake but asked for ale. Both Hortense and her mother requested tea. While Lydia put the kettle over the fire and brought the cake from the pantry, Rees escorted their visitors into the front room. The air was much colder in here than the warm kitchen so he brought in a brand from the cooking fire and lit the kindling. By the time Lydia had carried in the hot tea, cups and both milk and sugar as well as plates for the cake, he had a small fire blazing on the hearth. He stirred it with the poker, trying to restrain himself from jumping into his questions.

  When the guests were settled and everyone had cake and something to drink Rees could wait no more. Turning, he fixed a stern gaze upon Hortense. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘time to confess all. What exactly happened to you? And why are these young men so determined to recapture you?’

  A flood of color surged into Hortense’s cheeks and then drained away, leaving her skin dead white. She threw a quick glance at her mother but Bernadette said nothing. Realizing no help would come from that quarter, Hortense lowered her eyes to her hands. When she looked up once again Rees saw that the girl was ready to talk. But, he thought cynically, she had taken enough time to decide what parts of the story she would tell.

  ‘I was on my way home from Mrs Bennett’s delivery,’ Hortense began in a soft voice, ‘when these two men came up behind me.’

  ‘Did you know they were following you?’ Rees asked.

  ‘I heard hoof beats.’ She paused, her eyes shifting back and forth as she thought. ‘They followed me all the way down Gray Hill. Then, when I was on North Road, they came up beside me, one on each side, and told me to pull over. I-I tried to outrun them but I couldn’t. Not in the cart. They made me drive into the ditch. I jumped out and tried to run.’

  Rees thought back to his examination of the tracks. They did not entirely support her story but he guessed it was close enough. ‘What happened after that?’ he asked. ‘Where did they take you?’

  ‘Somewhere into the hills,’ Hortense said. ‘As I said previously, I don’t know exactly. I didn’t recognize anything.’ She stopped and took a sip of tea. Her hand was trembling. Bernadette leaned forward and clasped her daughter’s other hand.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Bernadette said soothingly. ‘Take your time.’

  ‘You must know something,’ Rees said, not troubling to hide his impatience.

  ‘Why did they want you?’

  ‘They wanted me to care for their mother,’ Hortense said. ‘She was … is ill.’ She turned a wide-eyed stare upon Rees. ‘We went to a cabin. That’s all I know.’

  And that is a lie, he thought, holding his tongue with an effort.

  ‘They didn’t – I mean no one interfered with you?’ Bernadette whispered.

  Hortense shook her head. ‘No. I didn’t see very much of anyone else except Mother Sally.’ The innocent gaze went to Bernadette. ‘I spent most of my time with her.’

  And that is the second falsehood, Rees thought, bursting into speech without thinking before he spoke. ‘You told me there was a lot of blood. Where did that blood come from?’

  Tears flooded Hortense’s eyes and began pouring down her cheeks. ‘Jake and his father got into a fight. A terrible fight. Screaming at one another so loudly even Mother Sally left her bed. We peeked through the door. They were fighting, Jake and his father. He, the father, got Jake on the floor and was punching him. Jem tried to pull his father away but couldn’t. And Jake reached out and grabbed the poker and hit his father with all his strength. Oh, the blood! I thought Jake had killed him.’

  A moment of shocked silence followed her account. This part of the tale, Rees thought, was probably mostly true.

  ‘And that’s when you ran?’ Bernadette put her arms around Hortense’s shoulders. ‘Oh my dear.’

  ‘Yes,’ Hortense said, looking at her mother in eager relief. ‘I knew I had to escape. They’d taken my shoes and my cloak to keep me there. But I knew I had no choice. I had to leave.’

  ‘How soon after the fight did you flee?’ Rees asked. He heard something off in her voice but didn’t think everything she’d said was untrue. He just couldn’t guess which part of her last few statements was false.

  ‘Immediately, of course,’ Hortense said.

  And that, he decided, was the third lie.

  ‘What does that matter now?’ Bernadette said loudly. ‘Those savages are coming after her. We must hide her. And stop them.’ She glared at Rees as if he were to blame.

  ‘She can’t stay here,’ Lydia said, moving forward. ‘She can’
t. My daughter has already been attacked in Hortense’s stead. I won’t put Jerusha and my other children in danger. Not even for you, Bernadette, and your daughter.’

  Bernadette met Lydia’s gaze. Rees did not speak; he knew he did not have to. Lydia would not yield where the safety of her children was at stake. Finally Bernadette nodded. ‘I understand,’ she said, holding out her hands pleadingly. ‘But it would be just for a little while. I thought I would send Hortense to my relatives in Quebec. They will make sure she marries someone more appropriate. She may return for a visit when you—’ and she switched her gaze to Rees – ‘discover the identity of those brutes behind this attack upon my daughter.’

  Rees looked at Lydia. ‘Let me speak to Brother Jonathan. Perhaps the Shakers will allow her to stay in Zion for a few days.’

  ‘I’ll go with you,’ Rouge said, rising to his feet.

  ‘No,’ Rees said firmly, turning to frown at the constable. ‘I want you to stay here and protect my family. Just in case those boys return.’

  ‘You want me to stay with the women and children?’ Rouge’s voice rose in dismay.

  ‘Unless you wish to speak to Brother Jonathan,’ Rees said, turning to stare at the other man. Rouge lowered his eyes and shook his head. ‘I don’t want to see my wife and children put at risk,’ Rees added. He did not say ‘for Hortense’ but that was what he meant.

  ‘Very well,’ Rouge muttered.

  With the matter settled, Rees put on his greatcoat and went outside. It was colder today and yesterday’s flurries had left a dusting of fresh snow on the ground. But it was still warmer than it would be; it would be far far colder in January and February. He looked at the sky. Although it was overcast he did not think they would see more snow. He briefly considered walking to Zion, something he had done a few times in the fall, but decided against it. He did not want to be caught outside if the weather turned. So he hitched Hannibal to his wagon. Yes, if he and his family stayed here he should consider purchasing another horse. Not a saddle horse as Rouge suggested – that would be an expensive luxury – but a plow horse that Lydia could also use with another vehicle. Or a mule. As he led Hannibal from the barn, Rees paused and looked all around, paying particular attention to the snowy ravine beneath the trees. He saw nothing. Of course those boys could be hiding, far enough back so as to be invisible, but he felt cautiously optimistic that they had been finally scared away by Thomas and his butcher knife.