A Simple Shaker Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

remember every detail of the episode.
    Within moments, Rose heard children’s laughter comingfrom behind the Children’s Dwelling House. She followed the sound to the garden in back, given over entirely to the care of the children. The plants—herbs and vegetables, with a few flowers, in defiance of the rule against ornamentation—were mostly dead now, with the exception of a few hardy perennials. The children were taking advantage of the warmth to dig up dead annuals and turn the soil in preparation for spring. Charlotte was hard at work along with them.
    Mairin sat off to the side, cross-legged in a corner of the garden. With slow and careful movements, she was turning over spadesful of black loam and breaking up clumps. Rose approached the girl. Charlotte and several other girls smiled or waved at her, but Mairin concentrated on her task. She did not look up until she saw Rose’s feet in front of her.
    She gazed at Rose with wide coppery-green eyes and her mouth slightly open. She did not smile or even register recognition. From Rose’s height, Mairin looked like a toddler. The urge to sweep her up and hold her was strong, but the girl’s odd detachment kept Rose still.
    â€œYou remember me, don’t you? I’m Rose; we met in the orchard.”
    Mairin gave a solemn nod.
    â€œWould you like to go for a walk with me?”
    A moment of hesitation, then another nod. Rose held out her hand. Mairin rolled up on her knees and stood with a hint of awkwardness, as if her joints weren’t set quite right. But she did not reach for Rose’s hand. Something told Rose to stay as she was. After what felt like interminable moments, Mairin slid her small hand into Rose’s.
    The lifting of her own heart startled Rose. She didn’t know how or why, but this strange little girl touched her. Perhaps she sensed the wound lurking beneath the detached self-possession.
    â€œI have an idea,” Rose said. “Have you ever tasted candied angelica root? I think the Kitchen Sisters recently finished putting up a large batch. Most of it we sell to the world, but we do keep some aside for ourselves. Let’s go see, shall we?”
    â€œSee you later, Mairin.” Nine-year-old Nora glanced up from her digging and grinned. “I’ll ask Charlotte if you can stay in my retiring room, okay? We could have a lot of fun—you, me, and Betsy.”
    â€œOkay.” It was the first word Rose had heard Mairin speak since her departure from the orchard earlier. Rose was encouraged. If Nora could befriend her, Mairin might begin to blossom. Rose gave Nora an approving smile before leading Mairin toward the Center Family Dwelling House kitchen.
    As they opened the outside door to the kitchen, they were enveloped with warm, fragrant air. Sister Gertrude, the Kitchen deaconess, was just removing a dozen or so pans of sweet potato bread from the bread oven. From a smaller oven came the fresh, crusty smell of vegetable potpies. There was plenty of good food this time of year, following the harvest, but the North Homage Shakers had elected to designate vegetarian days, both to stretch out the precious meat and in the belief that such a diet would be good for their health.
    Rose had forgotten that the noon meal would be served within the hour. She should not be feeding candied angelica root to Mairin, who clearly had suffered from malnutrition. It might seem too tempting and spoil her appetite for more nourishing food. But when she saw the girl’s face, she changed her plan. Mairin’s eyes were wide and shiny as she gazed at the sweet potato bread, and her mouth stretched into a hopeful smile.
    â€œWould you like to try some of the bread first?” Rose asked.
    For an answer, Mairin reached out her free arm toward the nearest loaf. Her fingers arched in clutching desperation, the shape of her hand all the more clawlike because her knuckles were unusually large and knobby. She made a