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

and left her retiring room, carrying her journal with her.
    The workshop was sparsely furnished with a small desk and ladder-back chair, an old worktable, and a lamp. The aged ironcast wood-burning stove stood off to one side, still in working order. Perhaps when this Depression ended, the Society could find the money to install a more modern heating system, but for now, and to Wilhelm’s satisfaction, they had to make do with the old methods.
    Rose opened the door of a cupboard recessed in the thick wall. Inside was a small pile of books she had selected for study, mostly Shaker theology from the Ministry library. However, on her way to bed that evening she’d also pulled Robert Owen , by Frank Podmore, and a couple of pamphlets about New Harmony that had been brought by Believers moving to North Homage after the demise of the Pleasant Hill community. She took the Owenite materials to her desk and began skimming through them.
    It wasn’t long before Rose understood why Wilhelm thought his plan to convert the New-Owenites might work. Like the Shakers, Robert Owen had believed deeply in the importance of communal living, doing away with private property, and granting equality to all, no matter what class or race or gender they’d been born into. He denounced traditional marriage. He believed in educating children and treating them with kindness. He even envisioned severing parental bonds and housing the children together, as the Shakers did.
    Her eyelids started to droop, but she kept on reading. The more she read, the more convinced she became that Wilhelm and Gilbert were surely both fighting a losing battle. Their differences overwhelmed their similarities. In fact, as far as she could see, Robert Owen had been like Wilhelm in one respect only—they both had a yen for martyrdom. As a follower of Owen, Gilbert Griffiths would never accept the strict celibacy and profoundly religious basis of Shakerism, and Wilhelm would not give them up if he were the last Shaker left breathing. Nay, she wasn’t worried about them. If anything, their fruitlessstruggle would keep them both occupied. However, her worry reappeared when she pondered the effects on other Believers.
    The young brothers, Archibald and Matthew—had they been swayed by Gilbert’s rhetoric? Was Gretchen in danger? Lottie and Frieda? All were in their mid to late twenties. All had put aside what might be strong urges for families of their own for life in the Society. Might they come to see New-Owenism as a way to live in community, work for a higher purpose, and still have families?
    Rose paced across the room as disturbing thoughts came to her mind. She thought of Andrew. Might she, too, feel tempted if she were younger and less experienced? Her thoughts were reaching a fever pitch when a tentative knock on the door brought her back to her surroundings. It must be nearly midnight. Surely Wilhelm would not be on her floor at such a late hour. A telephone system connected the entire village and both floors of the Ministry House; if an emergency required her presence, he would have phoned.
    â€œWho is it?”
    â€œIt’s me, Rose.” Josie peeked her head around the door. “I won’t ask what you’re doing up at this hour, if you’ll let me in.”
    â€œI will ask what you are doing up and wandering about the village,” Rose said, beckoning her inside.
    â€œYou know me, I’m up and about all times of the night.”
    â€œIs someone seriously ill?”
    â€œNay,” Josie said, “but it has been an interesting night nonetheless. I saw your light on from the Infirmary, so I decided to bring you into it.” She untied the top of her cloak, which she hadn’t bothered to remove before dropping her round body into the largest visitor’s chair.
    â€œI’ve just sent Elsa back to her retiring room,” Josie said. Sister Elsa Pike, an ambitious supporter of Wilhelm’s, often