Read Online Killing Gifts by Deborah Woodworth - Free Book Online

you’ll tell me, won’t you?”
    â€œYes, Sister.” Hezekiah turned to leave, then paused and turned back to Rose. “There’s three I’d watch, if I was you—Sewell, Aldon, and Johnny. They all work together. To my mind, they don’t act much like Shakers. Especially Sewell—his manner’s a bit too free with the ladies, to my way of thinking. It’s more than that, though. Ever since those folks arrived, that whole village changed. It’s like they brought along the devil. Seemed like everybody turned mean. Some of them was going out and about at night. I’d see ’em from my window or hear them over my room, making noises like . . .”
    â€œLike what, Hezekiah? You can say anything to me.”
    â€œWell, Eldress Fannie used to say they wanted to live like the angels in a Heaven on earth, but by the time I left, it was like Hell sent up a pack of demons instead.” He spun around and was gone.
    Â 
    Gennie snuggled into her berth and turned toward the windows. The converted seats didn’t create a bed as soft as hers back in her boardinghouse room in Languor, but the enclosed area was warm and cozy. The rhythmic clickety-clack of the train wheels soothed her jumpy nerves. Sleep didn’t come quickly, as it usually did for her.
    She watched the hills and villages glide by in the moonlight, gradually becoming more snow-splotched. She thought through the day. So far, the journey had lived up to her excited imaginings, but it seemed that every time she relaxed and enjoyed herself, that odd man would show up. It had happened again in the diner. She and Rose had finished their fresh fruit dessert and their planning, and they’d stood up to leave. Since they’d sat facing the direction the train was going, it was the first time Gennie had looked in back of her. There he was. He sat at a small table at the end of the car, sipping coffee and looking straight at her. He’d averted his eyes immediately and pretended to stare out the window. Gennie was only slightly encouraged—at least he’d seemed to understand that he’d been too forward. But she still felt a chill go down her spine.
    Gennie wasn’t about to confide her fears to anyone, including Rose. After all, she told herself, Rose might think she’d become far too prideful about her appearance. Since leaving the Shakers, Gennie had enjoyed many a worldly man’s appreciation for her small, slender figure and her mass of auburn curls. Perhaps that was why she hesitated to marry Grady as quickly as he wished—she’d begun to see she had choices. At this moment, though, she missed Grady with a ferocity that shook her, even as she relished the adventure before her.
    She curled up in a ball and pulled her covers tightly over her shoulders. Warmth relaxed her limbs, bringing her closer to sleep. Her eyelids wanted to droop, but she opened them as she felt the train slow to a stop. Out her window she saw a dimly lit platform and a dirty, snow-crusted sign announcing a town she’d never heard of. A small stone station, badly in need of a cleaning, was nearly dark inside. Under a meager shelter stood a large man, hunched in a thick overcoat, waiting for the coach doors to open.
    Gennie watched sleepily, glad she was warm and snug in bed. A burst of wind swirled the snow under the wood benches lined up against the station wall. A figure exited the train and walked toward her. He stopped to chat briefly with the large man. They parted, and the large man stepped up onto the train. The exiting passenger walked past Gennie’s window, almost close enough for her to reach out and touch. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, and he kept his hands deep in the pockets of his overcoat. His dark hat was tilted over his forehead to stop the wind. Gennie didn’t have to see his face to know it was the strange man who had set her nerves on edge since Cincinnati. He