11

Sister Muriel was waiting for her after the morning meal. “Elder Derron wants to speak to Sister Carlyn,” she told Sister Edna. “When he has determined the information he needs, I’ll return our new sister to your care. Will you be in the garden today?”

“Yea, the butterbean seeds are ready,” Sister Edna said.

A ripple of relief went through Carlyn. She liked garden work, but even if they told her to wash dishes or scrub floors, she would not complain. That she could also do.

“Don’t dawdle on your return, Sister Carlyn,” Sister Edna said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Carlyn said.

“Yea.” Impatience was plainly evident in Sister Edna’s voice. “Remember you are striving to become a Believer now.”

“Yea.” The word sat oddly on her tongue, but she could get used to that. Yea. Yes. The words were little different, and if it put Sister Edna in a better humor, that would be good.

Sister Muriel waited until they were out of earshot. “Sister Edna does fervently desire our converts to embrace being a Believer as quickly as possible. That explains her impatience at times.”

Carlyn wasn’t sure who Sister Muriel was trying to convince most. Herself or Carlyn. Either way, Carlyn had no answer. She was stuck with the nettlesome Sister Edna, but she had not come to the Shaker village to be happy. She had come for a roof over her head and to be safe from Curt Whitlow. If that meant saying yea and working to please Sister Edna, so be it.

Sister Muriel led the way back to the building where Carlyn had spent the night. As they stepped inside, Sister Muriel told her about the elder she would be meeting. “While we keep the world from our village, we do, of a necessity, have business dealings with those outside our village. The Ministry chooses brethren who are trustworthy and industrious to oversee such matters. Elder Derron has the burden of such duty.”

“Why does he want to talk to me?” Carlyn asked.

“It is customary whenever one joins our Society for that person to turn over any property for the good of the community at large.”

“But I have little of worth. I lost my house for lack of ability to pay what I owed on it.”

“We will see, my sister. Don’t fret over things. Keep your spirit true and the other matters will be easily handled.”

Carlyn bent her head and did not answer. How easy it was to read that verse in the Bible about taking no thought for the morrow. Sufficient are the evils of the day. But how could one not worry about evils to come on the day at hand or the morrow? Blessings. She needed to look for the blessings.

When they entered Elder Derron’s office, he continued writing in the account book on his desk a moment before he carefully positioned his pen on a blotter and turned to greet them. He did not smile. “Come sit down, Sisters, so that we can determine what must be done.”

He motioned toward the chairs hanging on the wall. When Sister Muriel took down one of the chairs, Carlyn did the same. She wanted to ask why the chairs were hung on the railing, but she feared Elder Derron might have the same dislike of questions as Sister Edna. He did appear to favor silence, since he let several moments pass without speaking even after she and Sister Muriel settled into their chairs. Sister Muriel seemed unbothered by the lack of words as she folded her hands in her lap and waited.

The elder’s steady gaze made Carlyn want to shift uneasily in her chair, but instead she sat very still. He looked to be in his middle years, with few lines on his solemn face to reveal fondness for either smiling or frowning. He wore a white cotton shirt with suspenders to hold up his dark trousers, his outfit no different from that of the other Shaker brothers she’d seen. While he was not a large man, he had a sturdy look. Yet he seemed to fit at the desk, ready to handle whatever business concerns came his way.

His eyes narrowed a bit as though trying to determine what her looks might reveal about her. She wondered if she might yet be turned away in spite of Sister Muriel’s assurance that no sister in need was ever refused a place in their society.

She was relieved when at last he spoke. “Sister Muriel tells me you seek to live among us.”

“Yes.” Carlyn remembered Sister Edna’s yea too late, but the elder didn’t seem bothered by her lapse.

“Here in our Society, all things are held in common with no individual ownership. The needs of all are met and each member contributes to the whole. So new converts are asked to give over their property when they join with us.”

“I brought little with me. My mother’s Bible and a few baubles. Nothing of worth except to me.”

The shadow of a frown chased across his face. “One should not put worth in things, my sister. Only in deeds and actions.”

“Yea.” This time Carlyn remembered the Shaker yes.

“Why have you come among us?”

“I told Sister Muriel.”

“Now you must tell me.” His voice was insistent, a man accustomed to being obeyed. “Things spoken directly into our ears are better understood.”

“Very well.” Carlyn clasped her hands in her lap. “My husband bought a house before the war and we were paying for it by the year. We lacked four payments when he joined the army.”

“On which side did his sympathies lie?”

“He fought for the Union.”

“Did he give his life for the Northern cause?” The man studied Carlyn’s face as though probing for answers beyond those she was speaking.

“The army says Ambrose, my husband, is missing. His fate is unknown.” Carlyn forced out the words. Perhaps it was good she had to say them so often in the last few days. She needed to look straight at the truth and accept it.

“According to the news reports, many are reported such. War is a grievous affair and one all men should abhor, as we do here at Harmony Hill.” His expression didn’t change as he ran his hands up and down his thighs.

Silence fell over the room again. Carlyn didn’t know whether to speak or not. She peeked over at Sister Muriel, serenely waiting for the elder’s next words.

Then, as if he’d just remembered her name, he said, “Ambrose? Ambrose Kearney was your husband in the world?”

“Yes.” She forgot the Shaker yea again in her eagerness. “You knew him?”

“Yea. A fine young man. I once thought to convince him to join our number here, but he was not ready to give up worldly pleasures.” The elder stared at her as though realizing she might be the worldly reason Ambrose had not become a Shaker. “Is not your house the one a few miles down the road from here?”

“It is.” Carlyn looked down at her hands. “Or it was.”

“I see.” The elder tapped his fingers on the edge of his desk. “And whom did you owe on the house?”

“Curt Whitlow.”

The elder’s fingers stilled in the air above the desk for a moment. “Ah, Mr. Whitlow.” If his face had seemed devoid of expression before, now it was even more so as he spread his hand flat on the desk. “Have you given over the house to him already?”

“The sheriff gave me until Friday to surrender the property.”

The elder almost smiled. “Then it is not too late to perhaps save what is yours. We will make payment of what is owed and then you can sign over the property to our Society. I assume you also had furniture and other household plunder.”

“A few things.”

“And livestock?”

“A cow and some chickens.”

“Did you make arrangements for their care before you came to our village?”

“I did not. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Guilt stabbed her. How could she have forgotten to ask Mrs. Smith to come get the cow and chickens? At least the cow had almost gone dry and wouldn’t be suffering from a full udder. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

“Don’t be distressed, my sister. We will collect them and bring them here.” He looked pleased for the first time, perhaps because now he knew she had not joined them empty-handed. “Would you like to accompany us to the house to gather your belongings?”

“Not unless it is necessary.” Carlyn had no desire to go through the sorrow of seeing her lost home again.

“Nay, I know the house. I will take care of arrangements and make the necessary payment to Mr. Whitlow. Or to the sheriff.” His lips turned up in a slight smile. “You made a good choice coming among us, my sister. Once we have assessed the value of your property, I will draw up a paper for you to sign. Then you will no longer have to concern yourself with anything of the world.”

“And if I should ever leave here?” She couldn’t believe she was thinking about what she might own, when the day before she had felt stripped of all possessions except her mother’s Bible.

“We would hope you are not considering a return to the sinful world when you only just put your feet on the proper path here.” His eyes bored into Carlyn, but she didn’t look away from him. After a moment, he went on. “But if such a sorrow were to happen, you would be given the value of your property minus whatever must be paid on your behalf. Is that acceptable?”

“Yea.” And with that word she stepped fully onto the Shaker path.