The Outsider (4 page)

Still they were odd. Different from other men who’d walked some of the same paths. Brice almost laughed at his thought. Who was he to be condemning a person for being different? It was a charge he faced often enough himself. He walked his own path, a path that frequently led away from all others. He refused to bleed a patient for any reason, though he knew some of his patients called in another doctor who was freer with the lancet as soon as he was gone. Some things he just felt were wrong with medicine as it was commonly practiced, and so he found his own ways, his own cures. If that made him different, so be it as long as his patients lived to talk about his odd ways.

He’d walked a little ways into the woods around the village, barely noticing where his steps were leading him. It was almost dark and he was about to turn back to the cabin and his supper when he caught the flash of something white in front of him through the trees. Surely the townspeople hadn’t come back to torment these gentle people again so soon.

Walking silently as he’d learned to do while with the Indians, he inched forward. When he realized it was one of the sisters’ caps he’d seen, he stopped. For a minute he thought perhaps he’d caught a couple meeting out of the elders’ sight, and he started to turn away. Then he saw the sister was alone, and his curiosity was aroused. Without moving he watched the woman kneeling in a position of prayer. All at once he felt like an intruder on a very private, even sacred scene. He wanted to slip away, but instead he stood stock-still for fear the woman might hear him and be startled.

After a moment she stood up, and he caught sight of the white rag around her hand. It was the young sister. She glanced over her shoulder as if she sensed him there, but he edged behind a tree out of her sight. She hurried through the trees and was gone.

He wanted to call out to her, to walk with her, but he’d promised the elder he wouldn’t disturb her again. He’d keep his word even if he did feel drawn to the girl. There was such a purity about her and yet a mystery too. Something fluttered to life inside him that he thought dead forever. Nonsense, he told himself harshly. She was little more than a child. But when he came out of the trees, he turned and fixed the spot in his mind before he walked swiftly back to the cabin where the boy lay.

4

Gabrielle almost ran through the thickening darkness out of the woods and back to her house. She hung her wrap on one of the wooden pegs in the entry room and joined several younger sisters as they climbed up to their family meeting room for their nightly prayer service. Another few minutes and she’d have been late, and her absence noted. But it wasn’t her worry of being late that had bothered her. Sister Mercy knew of Gabrielle’s need to pray in absolute privacy, and she’d never spoken against it.

It was the feeling she hadn’t been alone among the trees that had sent her rushing through the night. She usually prayed earlier in the day while the sun was bright, but when she’d been too busy at midday, she went on to her secret place of prayer after the evening meal even though darkness had been falling. She’d never been afraid of the dark anyway. She wasn’t afraid of the dark now, only of the unknown presence she’d felt there with her in the woods.

Her prayers had been for Nathan. All day she’d longed to go see for herself how he was faring, but she hadn’t asked permission, sensing Sister Mercy wouldn’t approve. She didn’t want to make the frown come back into Sister Mercy’s eyes when she looked at Gabrielle.

After the meeting was over, Gabrielle helped the little sisters get ready for bed. The younger ones and those new to the Believers often needed an extra kind word and Gabrielle went from one bed to another with a kiss and a soft good night for the girls.

The older girls settled down to sleep at once, for they knew there would be no time for rest on the morrow any more than there had been time for rest on that day. All the children had chores besides their schoolwork. The children were taught to put their hands to work early in life.

Gabrielle blew out the last candle in the large bedroom and quietly slipped off her shoes to ready herself for bed. Around her, the children’s bed coverings rustled as her little sisters settled into sleep.

There were four bedrooms like this in the house. Two on the other side for the young boys, and another here for the girls where Sister Mercy slept. The very young children slept in the nursery with other sisters to care for them.

Gabrielle was ready to lie down when she heard the soft whimpers. She tiptoed over to little Becca’s bed. Ever since Becca and her parents had joined the Believers back in the fall, Gabrielle had been trying to help the child grow accustomed to her new way of life. Tiny for a child of seven, Becca had a small, round face that almost sparkled when she smiled, but that smile came rarely. Every night since she’d been there she had cried herself to sleep.

At first she’d wailed fiercely, determined somehow to make her mother appear by her bedside. Her cries had pierced Gabrielle. She had wanted to run for Becca’s mother, but Sister Mercy wouldn’t allow it.

“The child will bend herself to our ways and be better for it,” she’d said. “She will soon tire of making so much racket.”

Becca had stopped screaming before the week was out, but she hadn’t stopped crying. Her weeping had just become a quiet study of misery. Gabrielle tried to lift some of that misery from Becca’s heart by holding the little girl every night until she was too tired to cry more.

Now she touched the child’s shoulder and said, “Shh, Becca. It’s all right.”

Becca moved toward her hand, and Gabrielle gathered her up into her arms, sat on the edge of the bed, and rocked her back and forth while she whispered soothing sounds. “I’m here, Becca. Please don’t cry.”

The little girl lay quietly in her arms for a moment before she said, “You’re nice, ’Brielle, but I want my mama. Why can’t I be with Mama instead of here? I promise to be very, very good.”

“I know, baby, but this is the way the elders and eldresses have decided is best. In time you will grow used to it, little one. Perhaps you will even come to like our ways as I do.”

Becca tried to hold back her tears, but little sobs shook her body. These quiet tears tore at Gabrielle’s heart even more than the child’s earlier screams. She smoothed down the little girl’s hair and kissed the top of her head. “You see your mother when she comes down to the school to visit you.” Becca’s mother came so often that Gabrielle was sure she didn’t always have permission but simply slipped away from her assigned chores to see her child.

“But at our house, Mama always rocked me and sang to me and let me comb her hair at night. Even Papa sometimes sang with us before he started going to the meetings every night. Mama said that’s why he changed. Why everything changed.” The little girl lowered her head and sighed. “Oh, ’Brielle, why did everything have to change?”

“Shh, sweet child.” Gabrielle held her tighter for a moment as she tried to ease her pain. “It’s a good life here, Becca. We have love among us all instead of just among each small family.” She didn’t expect the child to understand. She was too young, and her pain too sharp.

“Didn’t you miss your mama when you came, ’Brielle?”

Gabrielle smiled. “I was older and accustomed to a different sort of home than you, dear one.” Gabrielle laid the little girl back on her bed and kissed her cheek. “Now you go to sleep, Becca. Your mother will be sure to come see you tomorrow since she didn’t come today. She loves you very much, you know.” She tucked the covers around Becca’s small form. “You wouldn’t want her to see you with red eyes from crying all night.”

“Mama’s eyes were red last time she came. Do you think she cries herself to sleep too?”

Gabrielle hesitated before she answered, because in fact she was sure Becca’s mother did cry herself to sleep every night. Each time she saw Sister Esther, the lines were etched deeper in the woman’s face and she carried a frantic look in her eyes. The mother wasn’t taking to the Believer’s life any better than the child. But Gabrielle couldn’t lie to the child or ignore her question. She had to answer. “Some parts of the Believers’ life are hard for some to accept.”

“Do you think Mama is crying now?”

“I don’t know, Becca, but I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to worry about her. She wants you to be happy.”

“That’s so hard, ’Brielle.”

“It won’t always be hard, Becca.” The child’s words touched Gabrielle and brought tears to her own eyes. “Now lie still and pretend you’re floating on soft white clouds in a summer sky.”

Gabrielle knelt by the child’s bed and stroked her back until the little girl finally fell asleep. Only then did Gabrielle rise to her feet to go back to her own bed. Her bones ached with weariness. Yet sleep eluded her even after she lay down. She couldn’t stop worrying over Becca.

Becca and her mother didn’t belong with the Believers. During the years since they’d come together at Harmony Hill, Gabrielle had seen many like them. They just couldn’t bend their lives to fit the Shaker molds no matter how they tried. Many left the community after a few months. Others stayed longer, but nearly all left sooner or later. Sister Esther would find a way to leave in time as well.

It had been different for Gabrielle and her own mother. Gabrielle had always been able to adjust easily to the changes in her life. When she was young, her father had come and gone in her life when it suited his pleasure, and each time Gabrielle had welcomed him without mourning him when he left. Even after the trek to the strange Kentucky country, Gabrielle found it easy to settle into her new life. She missed her grandmother who had loved her so much in Virginia, but that part of her life was over. Her grandmother had died and their Virginia life died with her.

A new life in Kentucky began. So it was when they joined the Believers. For a while it was odd to see her mother only at meetings or when they shared a work detail, but soon it seemed only right that she be parted from her and call her Sister Martha.

With the Believers, Gabrielle’s mother blossomed and was filled with a peace she’d never known before. Sister Martha was one of the most devout of the Believers and sometimes at meetings was gifted with a whirling exercise. The first time her mother had broken from the group of dancers and whirled alone around the room, Gabrielle had watched with amazement. Her mother had always been careful to do nothing to bring attention in their old life. But the look of joy on her mother’s face when she finally fell exhausted to the floor assured Gabrielle that whatever change had come over her mother while among the Believers was good.

Gabrielle shut her eyes and listened to the light, steady breathing of the young sisters around her. For a minute Nathan came to her mind, and she whispered yet another prayer for him. Tomorrow she could go see if he was better, but now she needed to sleep.

The next morning after the morning meal, Sister Mercy went with Gabrielle to the visitor’s cabin. As they walked along the path, Sister Mercy said, “I’m not at all sure this trip is necessary, Sister Gabrielle. Surely you could have removed the bandage yourself.”

“I suppose so, Sister Mercy. But it cannot hurt for us to see how Brother Nathan is, can it?”

“Brother Nathan is young and strong. I’m sure he will mend quickly.”

“I pray so,” Gabrielle said quietly.

Sister Mercy’s knuckles had barely tapped against the door before the doctor swung the door open. Gabrielle kept her eyes on the ground, but she could feel the doctor’s eyes upon her. She peeked over at Sister Mercy. The woman was staring at the doctor while her frown grew deeper.

The doctor said, “So you’ve come to let me tend to your hand, young sister. I wasn’t sure you would.”

Gabrielle looked up and met his eyes for a brief second before she looked quickly away at a spot on the wall behind him. His eyes seemed to demand some sort of answers from her to questions she didn’t know. His nearness disturbed her even more with Sister Mercy beside her. Gabrielle said, “This is Sister Mercy, Dr. Scott.”

Sister Mercy stared at the doctor. “You’re younger than I thought you would be, Dr. Scott. I felt assured a man of medicine would of necessity be older.”

“I apprenticed with a doctor at a young age before I attended a medical school in Philadelphia,” the doctor said.

“I was not questioning your qualifications.”

Gabrielle’s throat tightened at the sound of disapproval in Sister Mercy’s voice. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Sister Mercy had stepped in front of her and barred her way into the cabin. Before that could happen, Gabrielle slipped past the doctor to Nathan’s side. His eyes were closed and his skin so pale that the red of the burns on his cheeks stood out angrily.

“Brother Nathan,” she whispered. When he didn’t respond, she looked up at the doctor, who had followed her to the bed. “Is he all right?” she asked.

“You needn’t look so worried, young sister. I think your brother is going to live.”

“Praise the Lord,” Gabrielle whispered as she looked down at Nathan with relief.

“He’s not past the need of your prayers,” the doctor said as Gabrielle looked up at him again. “The days ahead of him are going to be hard, at times near to impossible and filled with pain.”

“Of course I’ll continue to pray for him,” Gabrielle said softly. “As all of us will.”

The doctor reached past her to gently shake Nathan’s shoulder. “Wake up, boy. You have a visitor.”

Nathan slowly opened his eyes. “Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle spoke quickly before he could say more. Nathan often said things Sister Mercy surely wouldn’t approve. “Sister Mercy and I have come to see how you are, Brother Nathan.”

Nathan’s eyes touched on Sister Mercy for a moment before they came back to rest on Gabrielle’s face. “That was good of you. Both of you.”

“How are you feeling?” Gabrielle asked. “Is the pain too intense?”

“Nay, nothing I cannot handle. The good doctor here says I’m on the mend.”

The doctor laughed. “You’ll be calling me everything but good before the month is gone, Bates.”

“Month?” Sister Mercy’s voice was cool. “Then you will be among us for a good while, Dr. Scott?”

“A few more days,” the doctor said. “Then I’ll be getting on back to my cabin to see to my other patients, but I’ll be coming by to check on the boy as often as I can. At least until he’s able to come to my cabin for treatment.”

“Some of our number are skilled in healing. They could take over Brother Nathan’s treatment,” Sister Mercy said.

“Are they doctors?” Dr. Scott asked. “They do not call themselves such,” Sister Mercy admitted.

“But we manage well enough without the help of doctors from the world.”

“I’m sure you do,” Dr. Scott said. “And with most injuries that would be fine, perhaps even preferable, but the boy’s burns need special care. Especially if he is to walk again.” The doctor paused a moment as he looked at Nathan, then Gabrielle, and last of all Sister Mercy. When he spoke again his voice was soft with all the anger gone from it. “You needn’t worry about me, Sister Mercy. I have promised Elder Caleb to abide by your Shaker rules and do nothing to upset any of you while I’m here.”

“That is good to hear,” Sister Mercy said, but her frown did not go away.

Gabrielle touched Nathan’s hand and stood up quickly. She held her bandaged hand out toward the doctor and said, “If you could see to this now, please, I must be getting to the schoolroom to begin the little sisters’ lessons.”

“Come over to the window,” the doctor said.

Gabrielle followed him to the light and stood still as he began unwrapping the bandage from her hand. She fought against letting his touch disturb her, but she could feel her cheeks warming. If only Sister Mercy wasn’t watching her so intently.

“It’s better,” the doctor said as he peered down at her hand. “But not well. Burns are often slow to heal.” He wrapped her hand in a fresh cloth. “Don’t get this wet, and come back in the morning.”

“Is that really necessary, Dr. Scott?” Sister Mercy said. “It’s inconvenient for Sister Gabrielle and myself to come to the visitor’s cabin at this time of the day.”

The doctor looked over at Sister Mercy. “Then come at noon. It won’t make that much difference.”

Sister Mercy’s mouth tightened. “Give me the medicine, and I will see that her hand is treated in the morning.”

Gabrielle kept her eyes on her hand. She couldn’t understand Sister Mercy’s reluctance to let the doctor treat her hand. Surely the sister couldn’t guess how the blood was pumping through her wrist the doctor was holding as if she’d been running in a race. The doctor no doubt could feel it, and it was all Gabrielle could do to keep standing there and not yank her hand away from him and bolt out the door.