Killing Gifts by Deborah Woodworth Read Free Book Online

wave of shame brought a painful heat to her cold cheeks.
    â€œWe gotta think big,” Johnny said, warming to his subject. “Put this place on the map. We could maybe stick concrete in the holes in these walls and turn the place into a restaurant—you know, serve good Shaker food for a fair price. We’ve still got all that kitchen equipment from when the village had lots of Believers. We could get it working again, move it in here—it would help heat the place. We’ve got lots of extra tables and chairs and dishes. Not everybody in the world is poor. We’ve had some folks come by wanting to collect Shaker furniture. I bet lots more would come to sit on Shaker ladder-back chairs and eat real Shaker food. Maybe we could get the whole Brethren’s Workshop going again, make lots of furniture and sell it to collectors. Then we could—”
    â€œPerhaps we could even make use of all our spare beds and turn the upper stories into a brothel ,” Aldon said. “We could hire more women from the world—like that shopgirl.”
    Dulcie gasped despite herself, as she used to when Aldon had shouted about sin during a sermon. She wasn’t shocked by his reference to Julia, whose reputation was well-known. She edged closer to the drop-off. Aldon stood, stiff and straight, his hands balled into fists. Sewell shrank back, and Johnny, for once, was silent.
    To Dulcie’s surprise and pleasure, it was Sewell who broke the stunned silence. “I . . . I think we’re forgetting,” he said, “that this is a barn, and we have limited resources. It’s a good barn, a special one.” Emboldened, Sewell straightened and waved his arm upward to draw attention to the structure. All three heads looked up, and Dulcie pulled back out of sight.
    â€œI believe,” Sewell said, “that part of making a heaven on earth is preserving and using what we have, and we have this lovely barn. So that’s what we’re going to do.” His words were bolder than his voice. He turned quickly and left, as if he feared he wouldn’t be able to withstand any more argument.
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    Cold and hunger had replaced Dulcie’s longing for oblivion with a stronger yearning for food and the warmth of her bed. She pushed through the snow, taking a circuitous route back to the Brick Dwelling House. She had just passed the south side of the Poultry House when she found herself face-to-face with the one man she wanted most to avoid—her fiancé, Theodore Geist. It was useless to walk away, so she offered him a feeble smile.
    â€œDulcie, how many times have I told you, you should stay indoors in weather like this. Where did you get that filthy cloak? Give it here and take my coat.”
    Dulcie realized she was still wearing the old blanket she’d found in the barn. She had no idea how to explain it, so she pulled it tighter around her shoulders and laughed. “Don’t be silly,” she said, with an attempt at lightness. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I thought a bit of fresh air would fix me up. I’m heading right back to my room now.”
    She tried to push past him, but he grabbed her by the shoulders. He was far bigger and stronger, and she knew it was no use struggling. She stood immobile and stared at his muscular chest.
    â€œI want you to stop letting these Shakers give you clothes,” Theodore said. “First you start wearing that old Shaker dress that makes you look like a fat frump, and then they give you a ratty old cloak that shouldn’t be given to a hobo. Why do you let them do this? You used to be fairly pretty, but now . . .” He looked her up and down, shaking his head.
    Her cheeks burned with humiliation, and she wrenched out of his grip. “I’m tired, Theodore, just let me go back to my room.”
    Theodore grabbed her elbow and yanked her around. “What have I said about talking back to