Once he’d calmed his rebellious stomach, he stared down at the body again. He could see nothing of the woman’s face, someone had thrown a fold of the cloak across her so it was all too easy to imagine the body as belonging to the midwife’s daughter. He saw the dark hair with some disquiet; it was close enough to Hortense’s shade to be mistaken for the girl’s hair. He knelt and gently pulled the cloak away from the victim’s head, letting out his breath in a gust of relief. He had feared this would be a murder of a young girl, but the white face that stared blindly at the loft was of an older woman. Gaunt, her cheeks sunken in over missing teeth, she looked quite elderly. But her unwrinkled skin told another story, of a young woman no older than her thirties, and a rough life on the road.
The combination of the cloak and the dark hair was enough to persuade Rees that this woman had indeed been murdered in mistake for Hortense.
He pulled down the cloak a little further to reveal deep bruising around the woman’s throat. By large hands too; he could easily see black finger marks from two hands meeting in the front of the woman’s skinny throat. Over them was a thumb mark. When he lifted one of her eyelids he saw the red speckling that came from asphyxiation.
‘You see?’ said Jonathan. Although he spoke in a low voice, Rees could hear the quiver of anger underneath. ‘This is my fault. This is what comes of allowing congress with the World.’
‘But why – what I don’t understand is this,’ Rees said, turning his gaze back to the body. ‘It looks as though the murderer stood behind her to strangle her. But then he moved around. For the coup de grace, I guess. So, he might not have seen her face at first. But when he went in front of her he would have seen her and known this was not Hortense. Why then, did he kill her?’ Rees chewed his thumbnail as he thought. Had those two young villains both been involved? Or had the murderer known this woman and he was entirely mistaken about the reasons behind this woman’s death?
‘Does that matter? Our Sister is dead.’ Jonathan’s voice cracked.
‘When did this happen?’ Rees asked.
‘Don’t know exactly. A few hours ago. There was still enough light in the sky to see by,’ Jonathan said. He rubbed his hand wearily over his eyes. ‘The Sisters who witnessed this … this wickedness were on their way to the kitchen to prepare supper.’
‘Did the murderer see them?’ Rees asked, jumping to his feet in sudden agitation.
Jonathan, instantly understanding Rees’s fear, licked his lips and nodded. ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘I hope not.’ He threw a look behind him as though the Sisters were waiting there. ‘We will have to ask them. I sincerely hope not; the consequences do not bear thinking of.’
Rees nodded in agreement. If the Sisters saw the murderer, then he most likely saw them as well and their lives would be in danger. He could only hope that in their identical dresses and square linen caps they appeared indistinguishable from all the other Sisters in Zion.
‘You must take the girl.’ Jonathan burst into speech. ‘You must remove Hortense from our community now, before some other terrible deed occurs.’ Turning, he gestured at one of the Brothers standing a few feet away. ‘Ask Sister Esther to bring the girl here. Rees must take her with him when he goes.’ He glanced at Rees and quickly looked away. ‘You may leave our Sister—’ and he gestured to the body on the barn floor – ‘here. Although she was not a member of our Family for very long, she signed the Covenant when she joined. We will return her soul to Mother.’
‘I’ll speak to Constable Rouge,’ Rees said. ‘I’m sorry. I know you would prefer he not come here. But he’ll want to view the body.’
Jonathan’s lips stretched into a parody of a smile. ‘I should think that, since Hortense is his niece, other concerns might absorb his attention. Surely the identification of the villain who murdered this poor woman must take precedence – especially if she was mistaken for Hortense. But, of course, if he arrives before we bury our Sister, he may look at her.’
He swiveled his head to look over his shoulder and Rees followed Jonathan’s gaze. Esther and Hortense were approaching. The girl was now wrapped in a navy-blue cloak. She tried to remove her outerwear and hand it to the Sister. Esther shook her head.
‘Keep it. You will not want your cloak returned to you,’ she said.
Hortense nodded. Recent tears had left her eyes puffy and red and Rees could see that the white hands that clutched the edges of the cloak were trembling. The murder of the innocent Sister had frightened Hortense more than the other incidents and Rees thought she might be willing to answer his questions truthfully now.
He turned his gaze to the body lying on the ground, trying to fix the image in his mind. Then he looked up at Brother Jonathan. ‘I’ll return tomorrow with my wife to question the girls who found the body,’ he said. The Elder nodded without speaking. Rees walked forward and, taking Hortense by the elbow, drew her toward his wagon. He could feel her shaking beneath the cloak’s fabric. He pushed her into the wagon seat, as much from a determination to ensure she didn’t run as from courtesy, and climbed up beside her.
‘How did that woman come to have your cloak?’ he asked as the wagon jerked into motion.
‘I gave it to her. I felt sorry for her. Her life had been a hard one: widowed young and all her babies dead. When she admired it, I offered it to her.’
‘I see,’ Rees said. Hortense’s generous impulse had saved her life. ‘What happened to you on Gray Hill?’ he asked in a much sterner voice.
‘I told you already.’
‘You confessed part of the tale. It is past time for you to tell the entire truth,’ he said in a rough voice. ‘That woman is dead, probably in mistake for you. I want to know everything, including the bits you’ve been keeping back.’
‘I told you everything,’ Hortense said in a shaky voice.
‘No, you haven’t,’ Rees said. ‘Those boys are determined to recapture you. I want to know why.’ Hortense began to weep, her sobs clearly audible. He hardened his heart. ‘Do you want the murder of another woman on your conscience?’ he asked curtly.
‘No. No, I don’t,’ she said, sniffling. ‘But—’
‘What is frightening you?’ he asked. ‘Did those boys threaten you?’
‘Not them, no.’
‘Then who?’
Hortense shook her head, twisting her hands together in her lap. ‘You don’t understand,’ she said so softly Rees could scarcely hear her.
‘Try me,’ he said.
‘Jake and I, we …’ She bowed her head. ‘He was kind to me.’
Although Rees wanted to jump in with his guesses, with a great effort of will he restrained himself.
‘I understand,’ he said. And he did. A young woman and a young man, the same age, thrown together under difficult circumstances, of course affection would bloom. Just imagining his innocent daughter in a similar situation made him shudder. ‘So you and Jake formed an attachment?’ Hortense nodded. ‘And that is the reason he has been tracking you all over town?’
‘Jake and I were going to run away together.’ She looked at Rees and began speaking very fast and vehemently. ‘He did not kill that woman. I promise you that. Jake would never ever hurt anyone. He is too kind and gentle.’ Rees did not respond. It was clear to him that Hortense reciprocated Jake’s feelings. Her opinion of the lad, therefore, could not be trusted. Somehow he would have to find Jake and question him.
‘Does your mother know?’ Of course she didn’t. That explained Hortense’s reluctance to answer questions.
‘No.’ Hortense tried to smile. ‘She has higher aspirations for me than a boy like Jake. He is from the mountains and, besides, is neither French nor Catholic.’ A wave of sympathy for Bernadette swept over Rees. He would not want an illiterate hill boy for his daughters either.
‘I’m guessing,’ he said, his thoughts moving forward, ‘that Jake’s father did not approve either and that was the reason for the fight.’
As color surged into the girl’s cheeks
, she dropped her eyes to her lap. ‘Yes,’ she said so faintly Rees could hardly hear her. He turned a glare upon her.
‘Stop lying,’ he said angrily. ‘Stop it. The truth, now.’
Hortense began weeping harder. Shaking her head, she refused to speak again. Rees realized he still did not have the entire story and was so frustrated he wanted to shake the truth from her. But he understood that would not work; she would only resist more determinedly. So, instead, he tried to be content with the few morsels she had given him.
FOURTEEN
Since the evening was well advanced – supper was over – and it was far too dark to drive into town, Hortense spent the night in the front room. Rees’s acute awareness of her presence and the danger it presented to his family made for a restless night. He finally gave up trying to sleep and crawled out of bed despite the early hour.
With dawn a few hours away, the house was very dark. He tiptoed down the stairs without a candle, hoping to keep from waking Lydia. But his efforts were in vain and she soon followed him to the kitchen. ‘The sooner you bring that girl to her mother, the better,’ she said. ‘Leave as soon as you are able. I’ll milk Daisy for you.’
‘No need,’ he said, putting his hand on her shoulder as he looked into her upturned face. ‘I’ll leave Hortense with Rouge and return home immediately. I want to be here to drive the children to school. Not that I believe anything will happen,’ he added quickly, ‘but just in case. Then you and I’ll meet the Sisters who found the body and question them.’ Lydia forced a smile but the worried line pleating her forehead remained.
As soon as the kitchen fire was blazing, she went into the front room to wake Hortense. While the girl washed her face and ate a piece of stale bread for breakfast, Rees went outside for the wagon. Although a gray light was beginning to seep through the trees he required the lighted lantern to harness Hannibal. But, by the time he drank a cup of coffee and put Hortense in the wagon, the first pink of sunrise colored the sky.
Lydia came outside in her nightgown with only a shawl thrown over her shoulders. ‘Hurry back,’ she said to him. He nodded with a smile and snapped the whip over the gelding.
When Rouge saw Hortense stepping into the tavern he dropped the flagon he was drying on the floor. Pewter, it did not break but it bounced with a dull thud that caused a momentary hush in the buzz of conversation. Although today was only Monday – and early in the morning besides – the ordinary was already crowded. ‘What the Hell is she doing here?’ he bellowed.
Rees led the girl up to the bar. ‘She isn’t safe in Zion,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘There was a murder.’
Rouge stared at Rees as though he didn’t understand the words. ‘What do you mean?’
‘A woman wearing Hortense’s cloak was strangled,’ he said.
Rouge took several steps back. ‘Hortense’s cloak?’ he repeated. ‘I don’t understand.’
Rees leaned across the bar and began speaking very slowly. ‘Someone murdered a woman who, from a distance, resembled Hortense. She was wearing your niece’s cloak. Even in Zion, your niece is not safe.’
Rouge shook his head. ‘But where can she go?’ He sound exasperated and frightened both.
‘Perhaps you should have spent more time looking for her kidnappers,’ Rees said. He didn’t care that he sounded accusing. When Rouge did not respond, he continued speaking. ‘Brother Jonathan demanded that I remove her from the Shaker community. I brought her home with me last night. But I will not keep her at my farm and risk the lives of my children.’
Rouge swallowed. Turning to the kitchen door, he shouted, ‘Thomas. Thomas.’ The young Frenchman opened the door from the kitchen and peered through the opening. ‘Fetch my sister, please. And hurry.’ With a nod, Thomas ran across the tavern and through the inn door. Since he had not paused to put on a cloak or even a scarf Rees hoped he was warm enough in his mad dash across the yard. Rouge returned his alarmed gaze to Rees. ‘What should we do with Hortense to keep her safe?’
Rees shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I thought you and your sister were planning to send her to Quebec.’
‘But it hasn’t been all arranged.’ Rouge reached up and tugged at his graying black hair. ‘We need more time.’
‘I doubt the men who are hunting Hortense will care that you are not prepared,’ Rees pointed out in a dry tone. ‘And you already know she isn’t safe here in town.’ He directed a quick glance at Hortense. She was very pale and one nervous hand plucked at her cloak.
‘Jake would never hurt me,’ she said in a low voice, so soft only Rees could hear her.
‘Take her to my office,’ Rouge said. ‘The fewer people who see her, the better.’
So Rees guided Hortense down the hall to the office. As usual, it was cluttered and messy. Stacked ledgers covered every chair. He pushed one pile to the floor and gestured Hortense to the seat. He perched at first on a large barrel but the stink of brine and vinegar made his eyes sting and drove him away. He shifted the pile of papers from another chair and sat down.
‘I don’t want to go to Quebec,’ Hortense said. ‘I don’t speak French very well and I don’t know anyone there.’
‘That is between you and your mother,’ Rees replied. ‘And, in this case, you should obey her without question.’ Once she learned of Hortense’s feelings for Jake, Bernadette was likely to keep her daughter in Quebec for months, if not years.
‘I’ve met my cousins on only a handful of occasions,’ Hortense said, her voice rising. ‘I want to stay here and become a midwife like my mother. Please, Mr Rees—’
‘It isn’t safe,’ Bernadette said from the door. Hortense jumped to her feet and, as her mother hurried to her, flung herself into Bernadette’s arms.
‘Eventually you may be able to return,’ Rees said. When Hortense turned to him with an eager smile, he repeated, ‘Eventually. When your uncle deems it safe.’ By then, Hortense’s feelings toward the mountain boy would surely have changed. ‘But until that happens, you must be far away.’
‘But I want—’
‘Enough,’ Bernadette said, her voice sharp. ‘Don’t argue, Hortense. None of us have been able to protect you. Rees’s daughter was attacked in your stead. And now someone was murdered while wearing your cloak. We can’t take any more chances. Besides, it is imperative we marry you off before you …’ She stopped suddenly and cut her eyes toward Rees.
‘When does the stage north leave?’ he asked as Rouge entered the office, still clutching his drying cloth.
‘Not until—’ Rouge began.
Bernadette interrupted. ‘I don’t want to trust my daughter to the stage,’ she said, her voice rising. ‘Why, anything might happen. Those ruffians could stop the stage and take her from it. No, there must be another way.’
‘Thomas will take her,’ Rouge said. ‘They’ll leave tonight after dark.’
‘Only Thomas?’ Bernadette almost screamed.
‘I can’t leave the tavern,’ Rouge said, his own tone sharpening. ‘Especially if Thomas is gone. What would you have me do?’
‘You would put my daughter into the hands of a young man? Without a chaperone?’ She chewed her lip. ‘I’ll have to accompany them and pray none of the mothers go into labor until I return.’
Rouge responded with a flood of French, too rapid for Rees to follow.
‘This decision does not concern me,’ Rees said. Both Rouge and Bernadette turned to stare at him as though they’d forgotten he was there. He directed his gaze at the constable. ‘I’ll speak to the Shaker Sisters who found the body of that poor woman this morning. Then I will be going up Gray Hill to search for those boys, whether you can accompany me or no.’ He nodded at Bernadette and withdrew from the room.
He climbed into his wagon and started home with a sense of relief. Maybe now he could concentrate upon finding the young criminals.
But when he pulled into the yard, only Nancy and Judah were waiting on the porch. ‘Where’s your sister?’ Rees asked, jumping int
o a pile of mushy snow. ‘Where’s Jerusha?’
‘Inside,’ said Nancy. ‘She doesn’t want to go to school.’
‘She must,’ he said, stamping up the stairs. He flung the kitchen door open. Jerusha stood in the center of the kitchen, her face red and swollen with tears. ‘What’s the matter here?’ Rees bellowed. ‘I hear you don’t want to go to school today.’ Lydia turned a reproving look upon him and he passed a hand across his forehead. The restless night full of worry and the early trip into town had left him irritable. And now this. He didn’t think he could cope with another crisis.
‘Babette is mean to me,’ Jerusha said, turning her face away. ‘And the Widow Francine doesn’t like me.’ She spoke so softly Rees could scarcely hear her.
‘I’m certain that isn’t true,’ Lydia said. Rees looked at her, noticing that although she was dressed in one of her best gowns – a deep indigo blue, one of his favorites – her hair still lay upon her shoulder in last night’s braid. She had her hands clasped tightly together as though, for a farthing, she would strike her oldest daughter.
The devil take both Hortense and Jerusha, Rees thought.
‘It is of no importance,’ Lydia said in a tightly controlled voice. ‘She may remain here today and watch Joseph and Sharon. But—’ and she turned a fierce glare upon Jerusha – ‘tomorrow there shall be no argument.’
Since Lydia still had to finish dressing, Rees drove Nancy and Judah to school.
Then he returned to the farm for Lydia. He keenly felt the passing of time. It was already past eight and he guessed that by the time he reached Zion he might have less than two hours before prayers. After the observances, a daily occurrence, the entire Zion community would go to the Dining Hall for noon dinner. If Rees and Lydia hadn’t finished questioning the Sisters they would be forced to return to Zion that afternoon. And he wanted to spend the rest of the day on Gray Hill.
Lydia was waiting for him by the time he came back to the farm. Jerusha had Sharon held in her arms but Joseph wanted to go. He had wrapped an old cloak of Simon’s around his shoulders. Before it was handed down to Simon, the cloak had belonged to Jerusha but she was not the cause of the numerous mended rips and patches. He was always hard on his clothing and besides had worn the cloak doing chores. A lump formed in Rees’s throat when he saw the faded tattered article fastened around Joseph’s neck and wondered if Simon, who had been glad to go live with David, missed his family here as much as they missed him.
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