A Simple Shaker Murder by Deborah Woodworth Read Free Book Online Page A

of the Carpenters’ Shop. He pointed toward a burned patch of ground that still held pieces of an iron staircase emerging from a good-sized hole. “I thought you folks were always so quick to clean up a mess and rebuild.”
    Rose clenched her teeth and silently repeated her well-worn prayer for patience before answering evenly, “That was the old Waterhouse. It burned down, and we didn’t bother to rebuild, since we have a new water and sewer system.”
    â€œSeems a mighty good location, though. You could expand the Carpenters’ Shop, maybe even build a new one, right there close to the maple grove.” Gilbert eyed the land as if he owned it.
    â€œI’ve had very little chance to talk with you about your plans,” Rose said. “Since it has come to my attention that your group does not see any benefit in faith and worship, I’m wondering what, precisely, you’re hoping to learn from your visit to North Homage.” She strolled back toward the center of the village, away from the burned-out Waterhouse and the too-secluded maple grove. Given the rumors already flying, it would not do to be completely alone with a man from the world. Gilbert followed along beside her, a shade too close, and she edged away. He gave no hint that he noticed.
    â€œWell, Wilhelm did mention you seem to spend more time with the women than with him, so I’ll be glad to fill you in. Do you know much about our predecessors, the original Owenites?”
    â€œOnly a bit,” Rose said. “I know they lived in New Harmony, Indiana, starting somewhere in the 1820s or so, just when we were growing in strength, and I know there was some contact then between our communities.”
    â€œIndeed. The example of the Pleasant Hill Shakers was very helpful to New Harmony when it was just getting under way, but unfortunately it wasn’t enough. The Owenites lasted as a community for only a few years. They were never able toachieve the peaceful, ordered life you all have enjoyed for well over a century. My idea is that this time we’ll do it right. We’ve spent several years planning and obtaining resources. Now we need to study how you live and work together much more thoroughly, learn everything we can, before we plunge into trying our own utopia again. Does that answer your question?”
    â€œIt raises other questions,” Rose said. They had reached the back of the Schoolhouse. Normal life had resumed for the children, and the rhythmic murmur of voices reciting in unison drifted from a partially open window. “If religion is mere superstition to you, what can you really learn from us? Everything about our life is guided by our faith. For us, work is worship. From the time we get up in the morning, we try to live as the angels, to create a heaven on earth: How can you achieve a life like ours, yet reject its foundation in faith?”
    Gilbert stared off into the distant fields belonging to the Shakers and pursed his lips several times as if practicing a response in his mind. For a moment, a small smile played on his lips, and Rose felt a prick of anxiety. What did any of them really know about this group and their plans?
    The drone from the Schoolhouse window stopped, which seemed to bring Gilbert out of his silence. “You are right,” he said, “that my predecessor, Robert Owen, was quite opposed to the practice of religion, but did you know that in his later years, he became a convert to spiritualism? I believe you Shakers came under the same influence, did you not?”
    It was not a period of Shaker history with which Rose was entirely comfortable, so she nodded but said nothing.
    â€œHe was open to new ideas, you see. And so are we.” His smile broadened.
    Rose felt an uncomfortable lurch in her stomach, as if she had eaten a bite of meat just beyond its freshest. She had no time to analyze her reaction, though, as the back door of the Schoolhouse opened,