Brice stayed with Nathan for four days. Each day the boy improved and his will strengthened. On the fifth morning Nathan pulled himself to a sitting position on the side of the bed. The boy bit his lip to keep back the groans when the pain hit him. His face went ashen except for the red of the burn on his cheek. But he didn’t quit. He grabbed hold of the straight chair Brice sat in front of him and stood up.
“Give yourself a minute to let your head settle,” Brice told him.
“My head is spinning a mite,” Nathan said as he gripped the chair. “Too much time on my back, I’m thinking.”
“That and the pain. It’s no shame to admitting to feeling pain, boy. Go ahead and holler. It might help.”
“Can’t see how.” The boy bit his lip again and slowly pushed the chair in front of him as he took a step. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead.
The boy kept moving. He made it all the way across the room and back to the bed without Brice having to help him. When the boy was sitting down on the bed again and some of the color had come back into his face, Brice told him, “I’ll be going along home this morning. You don’t need a roundthe-clock nursemaid anymore.”
“You’re leaving?” The boy wiped the sweat off his face with a corner of the bed cover.
Brice dipped a cloth in the basin beside the bed, wrung it out, and put it on the back of the boy’s neck. “Sure, Bates. You don’t think you’re the only fellow who needs doctoring in this country. Anyway, that walk you made just now was pretty good. It won’t be long until you’re up and going again.”
“I hope so, Dr. Scott.”
“You’ll need to keep pushing yourself. Keep moving your legs. You can’t let them stiffen up on you no matter how bad it hurts. If the pain gets to be more than you can bear, put a pinch of these powders in a glass of water.” Brice placed a tin of medicine on the table by the bed before he started packing up his things. “Elder Caleb will be here with some of the men to move you over to a different house where they’ll take care of you till you’re stronger.”
Nathan watched him a minute before he said, “You’re not leaving because you’ve given up on me, are you, Doc? I mean, you still think I’m going to be able to walk.”
“You’re walking now, Bates.”
“I mean without pushing that confounded chair in front of me and wanting to scream each step.”
Brice turned to look at the boy. He no longer had any doubt at all Nathan would get well if some sort of fever didn’t set in. “You’re already doing better than I thought you would, Bates. In a month you’ll probably be walking wherever you want to go, and in another month, who knows? You might even be running. But it could be you’ll want to scream for a long while after that.”
The boy looked down at his legs and made a face. “I can live with that. I wasn’t planning on leaving here till spring anyhow.”
“You’d best be thinking of staying longer than that. It might be a good while before you’re able to follow a plow to earn your living. At least here you’re sure of eating till your legs heal.”
The boy didn’t say anything, just stared at Brice.
Brice shook his head and finished his packing up. “I’ll be back every day or so to see about you until you get a little better at pushing that chair around. Then you’ll have to come to me. It’ll be good exercise for you.” When a look of relief broke across the boy’s face, Brice put his hand on Nathan’s shoulder and added, “Don’t worry, boy. I told you I’d see that you got well, and I will.”
“It’s just that when I ask Gabrielle to go with me . . .” Nathan stopped and hesitated before going on. “Well, I wouldn’t want to ask her if I was just half a man.”
Brice frowned at the mention of the young sister. The last two days the boy’s talk had been sprinkled with plans he’d made for the two of them. Yet Brice was almost sure the young sister wouldn’t go with the boy when he left the Shakers. Not that it was any of his concern. He’d see that the boy got well. The boy would have to sort out the rest of his problems himself. So he only said, “It takes more than legs to make a man, Bates.”
“I’ll have what it takes when the time comes. You’ll see. They’ll all see.” The boy clamped his mouth shut when Elder Caleb pushed open the cabin door.
“We’re here to move Brother Nathan,” the elder said. Two other men followed him inside with a stretcher.
“Good.” Brice looked over at the boy. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bates.”
Elder Caleb stopped Brice just outside the door to hand him a small sack of coins. “I trust this will be adequate pay for your services, Dr. Scott. We are grateful for the devotion you’ve shown in caring for one of our brethren.”
Brice took the money reluctantly. The burning of their harvest barn was a hardship on the Shaker community, but to refuse the money might insult them. While Brice didn’t understand the Shakers’ religion, he had to respect their hardworking industriousness and their devout sincerity. They knew what they believed even if those beliefs seemed oddly contrary to the natural order of the world and God’s plan for man. After all, hadn’t the Lord himself made Eve as a helpmate for Adam in the Garden of Eden and told them to go forth and be fruitful? Still, Brice had to admire the Shakers’ sure grasp on what they believed to be the truth. He had never been able to feel that kind of certainty about any spiritual beliefs.
He’d spent his time in church, read the Bible, had plenty of people preach at him both in church and out, but he’d never been able to completely set aside his doubts and step forward in faith. His stepmother told him that was because his years with the redskins had turned him into a heathen unable to recognize the touch of the Lord.
Perhaps she was right. Brice sometimes felt God was near when he looked up at the stars on a clear night or walked through the woods in the springtime or brought a new baby into the world, but then when he’d try to grab hold of the feeling to make it real inside him, it would slip away and he’d wonder if there was a God at all. And even if there was, Brice doubted he’d ever done anything to encourage the Lord to look favorably down on him.
But these people had an assurance that couldn’t be shaken. Not by ridicule of outsiders or by persecution. Of course, not all their members were that rock solid. The boy would never be one of them, and probably others among them entertained some doubts. How could a man not have doubts?
Brice put the bag of coins in his pocket without opening it. “I thank you,” he said as another of the brethren led Brice’s horse to the cabin. Brice ran his hand down the horse’s neck before he mounted. “And I thank you for the fine care you’ve given my horse.”
Elder Caleb inclined his head in a wordless gesture of dismissal, and Brice turned his horse’s head toward the outskirts of the community.
He was almost past the last building when he spotted the young sister beside the road. He smiled and tipped his hat at her. She quickly looked away from him to the ground but not before he saw an answering smile jump to her lips.
He pulled up his horse and called to her. “How is your hand, young sister?”
For a minute he thought she was going to pretend not to hear. She took one step away, but then she surprised him by turning and stepping closer to him. He slid off his horse and walked over to her.
Again she looked ready to run as she glanced around her. There was no one in sight.
Brice said, “It won’t hurt for me to look at your hand to be sure it has healed properly. You know you should have come back and let me treat it again.”
Gabrielle held out her hand. “It was but a small burn, and Sister Mercy felt we had too much work to do to take time to come to the visitor’s cabin.”
Brice held her hand and gently bent her fingers and stretched her palm. “It seems to have healed well. Still, you should be careful with it for a while until the skin is no longer so tender.”
“Yea, Doctor, I have been careful.” Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his. “Ye are leaving?”
“I am. It’s time I saw to my other patients.”
“And Brother Nathan? Will he be all right now?”
So it was her need to find out how the boy was doing that had made her dare to speak to him. He told her what she wanted to hear. “I think so. It’ll take months, but he’s young and strong enough to make it through the hard times ahead of him.”
The young sister smiled, and it was as if a flower suddenly opened up in bloom before his eyes. He remembered the boy’s words. She is beauty.
“Thank you, Dr. Scott. I know the Eternal Father sent you here on that night to help Brother Nathan.”
“Sister Gabrielle!” The old sister’s voice was sharp as she came up behind the young sister. “It is time for the morning class to begin. We must be punctual.”
The young sister’s smile disappeared, and she looked almost frightened as she turned away from Brice. “I beg your forgiveness, Sister Mercy. I fear I could not resist the opportunity to ask about Brother Nathan.”
The old sister’s face was impassive, but there was disapproval in her voice as she said, “Ye should have asked one of the elders or eldresses permission to seek out information about the condition of Brother Nathan.”
“Yea, Sister Mercy. Forgive me.” The young sister ducked her head.
“Very well, child. Go along to your class now. They are waiting for their lessons.” The old sister waited until the young sister walked away before she looked back at Brice.
Brice smiled. “Don’t be hard on the young sister. I stopped her to look at her hand to be sure it had healed as it should.”
The old sister acted as though he hadn’t spoken. She simply said, “Good day, Dr. Scott.” He could see those words gave her pleasure before she turned and walked away.
The young sister stopped to let the older woman catch up with her. Brice watched them go on up the path to the house. The young sister’s face became somber as she seemed to be bowing her head in shame while the old woman berated her. And again anger rose inside Brice as it had the day he’d bandaged the young sister’s hand.
He looked back at the buildings with their austere fronts. Everything in the Shaker community was built for service. Nothing was put there without a purpose, and there were no wasted frills. Nothing was built or done just because it was pleasing to the eye, and if the young Shaker sister had the misfortune of being pleasing to the eye without even trying, it appeared that was reason for shame.
Then as he continued to stare at the buildings, he thought perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps the Shakers had their own vision of beauty. While their structures had no ornamentation, there was beauty in their very simplicity. And perhaps he was reading the old sister wrong as well. Maybe she wasn’t wishing away the young sister’s beauty. She just wanted to step between him and the young sister because he was of the world and she was fearful her hold on the girl wouldn’t be strong enough if the girl was allowed to glimpse life outside the Shaker community.
He pushed the young sister out of his mind as he rode out of the village. It was no concern of his if she wanted to give her life to the Shakers. While he might not go along with their way of life, they had the right to live as they wished. What harm could there be in wanting to live in peace and harmony with one another as brothers and sisters? Not that he thought they’d be able to shut away the evils and injuries of the world simply by building their community behind stone fences. Peace didn’t come just because one wished for it, and saying “brother” and “sister” didn’t always shut out certain feelings of the heart. The boy was proof enough of that.
Brice frowned and kicked his horse into a slow gallop. He was glad to leave them behind. Ever since Jemma had died, he’d shunned any kind of emotional involvement with people. He was willing to treat their physical pains. That was all. He had enough worries of his own without borrowing theirs. Yet as he rode through the woods to his cabin, the pure innocence of the young sister’s blue eyes stayed with him.
He hadn’t built his cabin in town. Brice needed trees around him, not houses. If people wanted his doctoring, they knew where to find him. And they did. In spite of the stories they told on him, they kept coming after him when a loved one was sick.
He slowed his horse as he came in sight of his cabin. Smoke was rising out of the chimney and a strange man stood on the porch waiting for him.
“Dr. Scott?” the man said as Brice dismounted. When Brice nodded, the stranger held out his hand. “Alec Hope.”
Brice looked the man over carefully before he took his hand. Alec Hope was small but sturdily built, although age was beginning to gnaw at the edges of his strength. His leather britches were worn bare in spots, and the deep lines on his face told the hardness of the life he’d lived. An old scar from what looked to be a knife wound ran down the side of one of his cheeks. If the man had come for doctoring, there wouldn’t be much chance of him paying. Then as Brice kept looking at him, something about the man’s eyes looked familiar, as though they’d met before.
Brice shook his hand. “Do I know you?”
“Could be,” the man said. “I used to be around these parts some years ago.”
“What brings you out to my cabin, Mr. Hope?”
“I got a problem, Doc, and I’m hoping you can help me with it.”
Brice pulled the saddle off his horse and turned him into the small corral beside the cabin. “If it’s doctoring you need, I’ll do my best. Come on inside.”
Hope followed him into the cabin. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I built a fire and brewed some of your coffee while I was waiting for you.”
“Not at all. Smells good,” Brice said as he poured them both a cup. He sat down across the table from the man and waited. He’d learned not to rush his backwoods patients. They often had a hard time coming out with their ailments. He kept his eyes on the man’s face and tried to remember where they’d met.
The man moved uneasily in his chair. Finally he said, “It ain’t exactly a healing problem I got, Doc.”
“Then I don’t suppose I can help you, Hope. Maybe what you need is a preacher. I can direct you to the house of a good man not too far away.”
Hope shook his head. “I don’t reckon a preacher would help me none. Preachers is part of my problem. If you’ll just hear me out, Doc, I’d be obliged.”
“All right.” Brice took a drink of his coffee and waited. “
They tell me in town that you been out among them they call Shakers.”
“I’ve been caring for a boy out there for a few days.”
“What kind of people are they?” The man’s eyes sharpened on Brice as he waited for his answer.
“Good enough people. Different from most, but they seem content with their ways.”
“I hear tell they dance and carry on. Some say they even have fits where they roll around on the floor. And they call it worshiping.”
“I wouldn’t know about that. I didn’t see any of their worship services. What difference does it make to you anyway, Hope? What they do. You thinking about joining them?”
The man laughed. “Not me. I can’t see me dancing nowheres excepting maybe in a tavern somewhere if I was in my cups.” His smile died away. “But I got a wife and daughter who went to the Shakers. You see, I just come back to this part of the country to see if my girl had growed up all right, and they tell me that she’s part of this bunch of Shakers.”
“She’ll be well cared for and brought up decent enough, I’d guess. But if you wanted to know about them, why didn’t you just go straight to the Shakers? They may not welcome people like us into their village, but they don’t lock them out either. They would tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Well, I would have, but you see, when I took off to work on the river some years back, I sent my wife word that I was dead. I thought Martha could marry again that way, that I’d be doing her a good turn. I’d have never guessed she’d do something so crazy as join these Shakers.” Hope raised his hands up and let them fall back to his lap. “I don’t know that they’d even let me see them now. I mean thinking I’m dead these many years and all.”
Brice set his coffee down on the table. “Let me get this straight. You deserted your family years ago, and now you’ve taken a notion to come back to claim them.”
“No, no. You got me all wrong, Doc. I don’t care what Martha does. I wasn’t never right for her. But I loved my little girl. She was always something extra special. That’s one reason I left. To give her a better chance. Martha had this uncle over in the settlement that was an important man. Had some money. But he hated me. I thought if I was out of the way, maybe he’d sort of adopt Gabrielle, and she’d have a chance of being a real lady like she was meant to be. But it just ain’t right, her being with those Shakers.”
Brice’s eyes narrowed on the man. “Did you say Gabrielle?”
Hope nodded. “I think it was Martha’s ma who named her that. It always was a mouthful, but it seemed to fit her even when she was just a bit of a babe.”
“The young sister is your daughter?”
“Young sister? I don’t reckon she’s no sister of yours, Doc.”
Brice frowned. “I mean Gabrielle.” Now that he knew who the man was, he could see a likeness to the young sister in the color of his eyes, but the deep blue had been dimmed by age and hard living.
“You know her then? You saw her at this Shaker place?”
“I saw her.”
“Then you know it ain’t right her being there.”
“I couldn’t say about that.” Brice thought of how the young sister had looked when they met on the path as he left the Shaker village. Perhaps such a combination of beauty and innocence was better sequestered from the world. “She seems satisfied with her life there.”
Hope made a sound of disgust. “It’s just that she don’t know no better. Tell me, Doc, is it true what they say in town about the folks out there? That they don’t hold with marrying?”
“That’s what I’ve been told.”
“That just ain’t natural. It ain’t the way the good Lord intended either. Me, I never claimed to be a religious man, but I know enough about the Bible to know Adam and Eve got together often enough. And there’s that part about cleaving to your wife or some words to that effect.” The man stared at Brice, waiting for him to agree with him.
Brice looked down at the coffee in his cup. “They hold different ideas than most of God’s people.”
Hope rubbed his chin a minute before he said, “Some of the folks in town believe they dance to the devil in their meetings. That there ain’t nothing religious about it. Some say they even strip off naked when they’re dancing.”
“I don’t believe that,” Brice said.
“You ever been to one of their meetings?”
“No.” Brice picked up his coffee and took another drink. “But they’re good enough people. Maybe a little curious to us, Hope, but they’ll bring no harm to anyone.”
“In my mind they’re harming my girl already by shutting her away out there. She ought to be married with babes of her own by now. She’s nigh on twenty. Instead she’s stuck in there to spend her life as a barren old maid.”
Brice looked straight at the man. “You have to let your daughter choose the kind of life she wants.”
Hope stared back at him. “I’m willing to do that, Doc, but I don’t know as to whether these Shaker people are. They’ve got her closed up in that little town of theirs till she can’t see what life might be like anywhere else.”
“Go, talk to her then, Hope. Tell her she has a choice.”
“I’ve thought about that, but I’m dead to her now. I can’t just sashay in there and say, ‘Howdy, here’s your pa back from the dead’ after all these years.”
“Then I guess that’s your choice.” Brice started to stand up. “I don’t see how I can be of any help to you.”
“You don’t remember me, do you, boy?” Hope smiled and shook his head. “Of course, you don’t. It’s been a pile of years.”
Brice sank back down in his chair and stared hard at the man. A long-closed door creaked open in his mind. He was a boy again fetching firewood for the squaws. Brice heard the men before he saw them. Speaking white men’s words. His words. The hunters looked thunderstruck when he stepped in front of them and spoke his white name. This was one of those faces he’d thought he would never forget. “You were one of the hunters.”
“That’s right, boy. And you were just a little white boy who’d almost turned pure Injun.”
“I did what I had to do and learned the Indian way, but I wasn’t Indian.”
“And you were grateful that we got you away?”
Brice met the man’s eyes. “I’d have left in time anyway, but I suppose I am beholden to you. I’ve got some money here.” Brice pulled out the little sack of coins the elder had given him. “I’ll pay you for the booty you traded for me.”
“I don’t want your money, Doc. You know that. I want your help. Help just like I give you back then.”
Brice kept the money there between them in hopes the man would take it still.
But Hope didn’t reach for it as he went on. “The way I see it, my little girl is in sort of the same fix you was in. You liked it there with the Injuns, but once we got you away, you liked it better. She thinks she’s one of these Shakers now, but she ain’t. I want you to get her away from there so she’ll know that.”
“How? I can’t trade for her the way you did for me.”
“I don’t know how. But at least you can let her know she can leave. That she’s got a friend out here waiting for her. Tell her whatever you want. Just let her know she don’t have to stay with them Shakers.”
“But what if she wants to stay?”
“She won’t. A place like that is for old women like Martha who never did like living. Gabrielle’s not like that. I’ve seen her sing to little butterflies and whirl around to a secret tune nobody could hear but her. She’ll come away when she sees that she can.”
Brice stared at the man a long time before he spoke. He didn’t want to do it. The young sister had already disturbed a part of him that he’d thought was long dead. But the man was right. He did owe him. There was no denying that, in spite of what he’d said about leaving the Indians on his own. They’d brought him away from the Indians while he was still white. In another few years he might have forgotten too many of the white man’s ways.
Brice slowly nodded. “I’ll talk to the young sister if I can. But I’m not sure it will do any good. She not only lives among the Shakers. She is a Shaker.”