A Fragile Design (3 page)
Bella swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat and nodded. ‘‘Yes, I’ll remember. I could never forget anything about you, Sister Mercy.’’
The older woman gave her a strange look, almost as though she realized something was amiss, but before Sister Mercy could question her further, Bella gave the older woman a bright smile and said, ‘‘We’ve made it just in time. Eldress Phoebe will have nothing to complain of this noonday.’’
‘‘Shh!’’ Bella’s warning hissed through the night air as she turned to face Daughtie. There was a slight chill to the moonlit evening, and Bella pulled her cloak more tightly around her shoulders before readjusting her satchel. She waved her friend onward toward the stand of pines—toward Jesse and their new life among the outsiders.
‘‘Can we talk now?’’ Daughtie whispered. ‘‘I don’t think anyone can hear us this far from the Dwelling House.’’
Bella glanced around the area. ‘‘Jesse!’’ she called. ‘‘Are you here?’’
They waited in silence. ‘‘I don’t think he’s here,’’ Daughtie offered. ‘‘What time was he supposed to meet us?’’
‘‘We didn’t set a specific time. There was no way to guarantee when the others would be asleep. Apparently the Brothers don’t go to sleep as early as the Sisters,’’ Bella replied. ‘‘He’ll be here soon.’’
Slowly, minute by minute, the night wore on. ‘‘I don’t think he’s coming, Bella. Let’s go back. If we’re careful, we can return to the Dwelling House and be back in bed before anyone misses us.’’
‘‘No! I’m not going back. If Jesse doesn’t arrive shortly, we’ll go on without him.’’
A look of fear crossed Daughtie’s face. ‘‘We can’t go without Jesse to lead us. What are you thinking, Bella?’’
‘‘It seems I’m always surrounded by men who convince me to trust them and then disappoint me—first my father and now Jesse. But that doesn’t change my decision to leave. We merely need to follow the road south until we reach Concord. I copied my aunt’s address from my father’s journal. I don’t know if she still lives in Concord, but we can at least attempt to locate her. I’m sure she’d give us shelter.’’ She reached out and grasped Daughtie’s hand. ‘‘I want you to go with me, but if you must return, I’ll not hold it against you, dear friend. I know you’re frightened.’’
‘‘No. I’ll not leave you here to go on alone, Bella, but I believe that returning to the Family is the prudent thing to do. We could return and find out what’s happened to Jesse. There’s nothing to prevent us from leaving tomorrow or next week, is there?’’ Daughtie asked, her question filled with the same hope that sparkled from her eyes in the moonlit night.
The hood of Bella’s cape fell back as she vigorously shook her head back and forth. ‘‘We’re ready now. Either Jesse has decided he’s not going or he’s already left for Concord, thinking we weren’t coming. Perhaps he expected us earlier than we arrived and, like us, decided it was best to go on alone.’’
Daughtie was silent for a moment. ‘‘If you’re sure we can find Concord, I suppose we’d best be on our way. The longer we wait, the greater the possibility of being discovered.’’
Bella nodded and took the lead, hoping she could remember all that Jesse had told her regarding the route they would follow. ‘‘As soon as we find the road to Concord, we’ll rest for the night. Jesse mentioned highwaymen can sometimes be lurking about, waiting for unsuspecting travelers,’’ she advised.
She carefully chose each turn of the path until they finally reached the main road that would lead them to Concord. ‘‘I’m certain this is the road we’ll need to follow come morning,’’ she told Daughtie. Pointing toward a stand of pines, she smiled broadly and grabbed Daughtie’s hand. ‘‘There’s a place over there where we’ll be out of sight and sheltered for the remainder of the night.’’
The heat of the sun as it rose into the eastern sky began to warm their bodies as the girls arose the next morning. Nestled among the small clump of trees, Bella discovered a fallen log and pulled it in front of two maples. ‘‘There! I’ve formed two chairs for us, Daughtie. We can sit on the log and lean against the trees and rest our backs,’’ she said, offering the loaf of rye bread and a wedge of yellow cheese to her friend.
Daughtie tore a piece of bread from the loaf. ‘‘Nothing ever tasted so good. I’m famished.’’
Bella nodded as she stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth. ‘‘If we keep a steady pace, I think we can reach Concord in three or four hours and then get directions to Lowell.’’
‘‘Lowell? I thought we were going to stay with your relatives in Concord.’’
Bella nodded her head in rhythm with her chewing and then swallowed hard. ‘‘I’ve been thinking about that. I doubt we’ll find them. Jesse and I had planned to go on to Lowell if we didn’t locate my aunt and uncle.’’
Daughtie’s eyebrows raised in obvious concern. ‘‘I certainly think we should try to find them, Bella. Isn’t it a long way to Lowell? Do you know anyone there who can help us?’’
Bella gave her friend a smile that she hoped was reassuring. ‘‘No, I don’t know anyone in Lowell, but it’s not so far that we can’t make it with proper directions.’’
‘‘Then why not stay in Concord? At least for a short time?’’
Bella quickly packed the leftover bread and cheese into her satchel and stood up. ‘‘Do you remember the Family discussing the new textile mills in Lowell? There’s work for girls our age. You may recall Mary Wiseman that wintered with us at the Village last year.’’
Daughtie’s brows furrowed. ‘‘I vaguely remember her, but we never talked. Wasn’t she the girl who got in trouble for talking during meals on several occasions?’’
Bella nodded in agreement. ‘‘Yes, that’s Mary. She never did learn to remain silent at the proper times. Anyway, she told me they pay good wages in the mills. We’ll be able to support ourselves, but in Concord we’d be fortunate if we found employment as housekeepers or teachers. Lowell is our best choice, Daughtie.’’
‘‘Unless we find your relatives,’’ Daughtie added.
Leaving their makeshift dining room, the girls walked back toward the road. ‘‘Even if we find them, we’ll have to find work, and I doubt we’ll find anything in Concord that will pay the wages Mary received in Lowell.’’
‘‘If life was so good in Lowell, why did Mary find it necessary to live off the Shakers all winter? She should have had ample money to support herself if she was receiving those fine wages you speak of.’’
Bella nodded at her friend. ‘‘Yes, one would think so, but Mary spent her money on every new fashion and whimsy her heart desired. She spent her money as quickly as she made it. Then, when she was least prepared for losing her employment, she became ill. With no money and unable to work, she made her way to the Family. The Ministry realized she was a breadand-butter Shaker and would remain only until she was once again able to make her way in the world. Mary never did indicate any desire to become a Believer.’’
‘‘I just think it might be safer to at least try and find your aunt.’’
Bella could hear the worry in Daughtie’s tone. ‘‘If it makes you feel better, we’ll do exactly that. It couldn’t hurt to rest up and have a good meal.’’
The sound of approaching horses could be heard in the distance. Bella grabbed Daughtie’s hand, pulling her behind a stand of forsythia bushes. ‘‘Keep down!’’ Bella warned.
Daughtie crouched beside Bella until the last rider had passed. ‘‘Why are we hiding?’’ she asked as they stood.
‘‘The Brethren may be looking for us,’’ Bella replied, surprised by her friend’s question.
‘‘They won’t come after us—you left a letter for your father saying you were leaving. And you know the Believers have no respect for those who run off in the night. They’ve probably bid us a ‘fare thee well and good riddance.’ ’’
‘‘I suppose you’re right, but I’d rather err on the side of caution. Besides, you never know what kind of highway bandit or scoundrel might be on the road.’’
Daughtie giggled. ‘‘Well, a bandit would be sorely disappointed if he sought to enrich himself with our meager belongings.’’
Bella joined in her laughter, trudging onward, the dust clinging to their cloaks and shoes. Three and a half hours later they rounded a bend in the road. ‘‘Look, Daughtie! We’ve finally reached Concord,’’ Bella exclaimed, pointing to the south.
‘‘And none too soon. My shoes are pinching. I’m sure I’ll have blisters come morning.’’
The girls moved with renewed vigor, the thought of a warm meal and soft bed beckoning them onward.
Bella pulled the folded scrap of paper containing her aunt’s address from the inner pocket of her cloak. ‘‘We’ll stop and ask someone directions.’’
A kind middle-aged woman directed them to the corner of Franklin and Ridge Streets, telling the girls to remain on Franklin until they reached the fourth house from the corner.
‘‘There it is,’’ Bella announced. ‘‘Let’s see if my aunt and uncle are living here,’’ she said, walking up the wooden steps to the small front porch. Bella knocked on the weatherworn door.
A large woman with a strange accent opened the door. ‘‘They live up there,’’ she said while pointing to the stairs. ‘‘Room three. Go on,’’ she encouraged, waving her hand toward the stairway.
Bella led the way up the dark stairway. The odor of strangesmelling foods, mixed with the stench of unwashed bodies, caused Bella to immediately long for a breath of fresh air. Instead, she held a kerchief to her nose as she knocked on the door of room three.
The gaunt stoop-shouldered woman who came to the door appeared much older than her years. ‘‘Ida Landon?’’ Bella questioned, not sure that the woman standing before her was truly her mother’s sister.
The woman nodded.
‘‘It’s me, Bella, your sister Polly’s daughter.’’
A look of recognition crossed the woman’s face as she opened her arms and pulled Bella into an embrace. ‘‘You’re all grown up,’’ she said, placing a kiss on Bella’s cheek. ‘‘Let me take a look at you.’’ She moved an arm’s length backward and smiled, nodding her approval. ‘‘From the look of those clothes, I’d say your parents are still among the Shakers.’’
Bella nodded and said, ‘‘This is my friend Daughtie.’’
‘‘Hello, Daughtie. Goodness, where are my manners? You girls come in and let me take your cloaks.’’
The room was small and sparsely appointed yet somehow appeared cluttered. The walls were sorely in need of whitewash, and the wood floors lacked care. A tiny potted plant sat drooping on the windowsill, a testament of those who lived within. Bella scanned the room, seeking a place for Daughtie and her to sit down. Ida appeared to follow her gaze and hastened to remove drying clothes from the two straight-backed wooden chairs.
‘‘Sit here,’’ she offered, gathering the laundry into a bundle and placing it on a narrow cot. ‘‘I’d make some tea, but I’m fresh out,’’ she apologized.
Bella reached into her satchel and withdrew a small cloth bag. ‘‘We can use this, Aunt Ida,’’ she offered. ‘‘I brought tea with me for just such an occasion as this.’’
A tentative smile appeared on Ida’s lips. ‘‘Thank you, dear. You’re as sweet as your mother. I want to hear all about her. How is she faring among the Shakers? I never thought she’d stay there. Polly was the one who always wanted a family with lots of children. Guess folks change, though,’’ she remarked, setting a pot to boil in the tiny corner that served as a kitchen. Seating herself on the cot, she leaned back against the bundle of laundry and rubbed her hands together. ‘‘Now! Tell me everything.’’
Bella hesitated a moment. ‘‘I’m not sure how to tell you this. I don’t suppose there’s any way to soften what I have to say, Aunt Ida, but Mother died of consumption not long after we arrived at Canterbury. I was certain that Father had written.’’
Ida was silent for several moments. ‘‘He may have written, but we left this place for nearly two years. Arthur was sure he could do better in the South. He had a strong inclination to live where it was warm. Unfortunately, we didn’t make it any farther than Pennsylvania. He decided if he was going to be poor and cold, he had a greater fondness for New Hampshire than Pennsylvania. We returned the following year and made our way back to this same place. Just our luck that it was still unrented.’’
Bella looked around, unconvinced that landing back here was a stroke of luck.
‘‘Times have been hard, but Arthur says it’s only a matter of time before he finds a better paying job.’’ Her voice was filled with a sorrow that belied the upward curve of her lips.
‘‘I’m sure things will take a turn for the better,’’ Bella encouraged.
Ida jumped up from the cot and took the few steps to her makeshift kitchen. ‘‘Just listen to me! Here you’ve made a long journey with sad news and I’m heaping my problems upon you the minute you walk in the door. Let me pour you girls some tea.’’
‘‘We’ll be leaving as soon as we finish our tea, Aunt Ida,’’ Bella said as she took the chipped cup her aunt offered. ‘‘We’ve a long ways to go.’’
‘‘And where are you off to?’’
‘‘Daughtie and I have decided we’ll go to Lowell. We plan to seek employment in the mills,’’ Bella replied, giving her friend a sidelong glance.
‘‘I’ve heard tell there’s good wages being paid down there. But you girls had best spend the night with me. Arthur’s gone to Boston on a delivery with his employer. We can make do, just the three of us.’’
‘‘That certainly makes more sense than sleeping along the roadside,’’ Daughtie whispered as Ida returned to pour herself a cup of tea.
‘‘I suppose we could stay, Aunt Ida,’’ Bella said. ‘‘If you’re sure it won’t be an inconvenience,’’ she quickly added.
Ida beamed. ‘‘It will be fun. Just the three of us—we can visit, and you can tell me all about life in the settlement. I’m surprised Franklin gave you permission to leave the Shakers. It’s out of character for him to be so agreeable.’’
‘‘I didn’t seek his permission. Daughtie and I ran away.’’
‘‘Oh my!’’ Ida placed a hand on each cheek and stared wideeyedat the two girls.
An early spring storm refused to let up, and Bella and Daughtie soon found their shoes weighed down with the muck and mire of the roadway and their woolen cloaks heavy with rainwater. Bella grabbed Daughtie’s hand and pulled, hoping they could avoid the splattering mud from a passing coach. But her feet wouldn’t take hold in the slippery mud, and they both were showered with flying sludge before the coach finally came to a halt a short distance down the road.