A Simple Shaker Murder by Deborah Woodworth Page B

you know what an herb is?”
    Mairin nodded but did not elaborate.
    Rose let the silence rest between them as she led the way past the west side of the Trustees’ Office and toward a wooded area. A narrow path wound among the thick trees. Mairin showed no fear as they left the sunlight behind. They came to a meandering creek, where they stopped.
    â€œThis area has been special to us Shakers for a long time,” Rose said. “Just off that direction is a hill that is holy to us. Many years ago we used to gather there for feast days, when we would worship for hours on end.”
    Mairin stared up at Rose as if she were speaking an unintelligible language.
    â€œSometimes we would speak to the angels and receive special gifts from them.”
    Mairin’s expression took on a hint of animation.
    â€œDo you know who the angels are?” Rose asked.
    â€œMama used to talk to angels,” Mairin said. “They’re littlepeople, aren’t they? Mama said they were special, and I couldn’t see them, so I thought they must be really little.” Her eyes lit up. “Am I an angel? Is that why I’m so little?”
    Rose’s heart was not behaving normally. She dropped down on the grass beside the girl. She wanted to throw her arms around Mairin, but instinct told her the gesture might be alarming.
    â€œSomeday,” Rose said, “I’ve no doubt you will be an angel. But for now you are a girl who has suffered enough for a lifetime. You lost your mama and your papa far too young, and you have gone without for too long.”
    For a moment, the mask cracked open. Mairin’s features twisted, and her eyes flashed like hot metal before filling with tears. The reaction was gone so fast, Rose wondered if she’d imagined it. A few blinks, and the tears vanished, along with the startling array of emotions.
    Mairin skittered away without a word. By the time Rose had pushed to her feet, the girl was leaning close to a small plant that was enjoying a narrow ray of late-day sunlight in a clearing. It was one of the few plants that hadn’t given up and turned brown as winter approached.
    â€œNay, Mairin, you mustn’t!” Rose cried, as the child broke off a stem and began to rip off the leaves with her teeth.
    â€œIt’s okay,” Mairin said, still chewing. “I’ve eaten this before.”
    Rose reached her side and recognized the plants as sage, an edible perennial, and a pungent one. She was surprised Mairin was willing to eat it.
    â€œDo you know the name of this plant?” she asked.
    Mairin shook her head.
    â€œIt’s called sage. If you didn’t know what it was, how did you know you could eat it?”
    â€œIs it suppertime yet? I’m really hungry.”
    â€œMairin, did someone tell you it was safe to eat this?”
    â€œI can figure things out. I don’t need someone to tell me.”
    â€œDo you understand how dangerous it is to eat plants whenyou don’t know what they are? Now please tell me, how did you know this would not make you sick?”
    â€œBecause it didn’t. I tried a little, and I was fine. If a little bit makes me sick, I don’t eat it again.”
    Rose sank to her knees and, this time, gave in to the impulse to fold Mairin in her arms. The girl neither responded nor resisted. Rose released her, but held her by the shoulders and looked in her eyes.
    â€œTell me truly, Mairin. How much time do you spend outdoors?”
    â€œOh, lots. That’s how I know about what to eat. I get hungry.”
    â€œDidn’t Celia and Hugh ever come looking for you? Didn’t they worry?”
    Mairin shrugged and pointed to another nearby plant, a wild bergamot. “I can eat that one, too,” she said.
    â€œMairin, listen to me.” Rose took the girl by the shoulders. “Bad things happen to everybody. Bad things happen even when you haven’t done anything wrong. Sometimes, people