Thieving Forest by Martha Conway Page A

altogether, a plan with the words brethren and Christians and Indians and work . Above all, the word work seems to hang in the air.
    “They live in simplicity, they deny themselves many conveniences, but in this way they achieve a state of communal feeling,” Beatrice is saying. “A new kind of family. You consider yourselves one family, isn’t that true, Sister Johanna?”
    “Yes, we call each other brother and sister.”
    Susanna is slow to catch up. “You want to stay here longer?”
    “We can do good work here.”
    “But our store...” Susanna still feels behind.
    “We’ll sell it to Amos Spendlove. He’s always wanted it.” Beatrice’s voice rises in a familiar way—she’s just had a good idea! “And now you tell me Seth is here—so easy, we just send along a letter with him! Think of it, Susanna, we can work here together running the brethren’s store, seeing to trade and supplies, ordering whatever is needed from Cincinnati. You always liked that.”
    “You’re wrong. I never cared for ordering. And besides, we’re not missionaries.”
    “Well of course right now I’m just a ghost, like you, but in time...”
    “A ghost?”
    “A guest. In time we will feel more comfortable, we’ll accustom ourselves to their ways. In fact, I can already...”
    Susanna has caught up at last. “You want this life! You want to be part of this...this experiment!” For what else is it? Educating Indians, teaching their children English and stories from the Bible. No white settler outside this little enclave believes it will last. The farmers laughed, in fact, some of them, when they first heard the idea. Of course, Susanna reminds herself, the farmers are fools. She is conscious that Johanna is looking at her.
    “If Penelope were here...” she begins.
    “Penelope!” Beatrice’s face is very red. “Penelope! There’s no Penelope, Susanna, there’s only us.”
    Of course: only us. But what can Susanna say to that? In all likelihood Beatrice would not have chosen Susanna out of all their sisters as a companion, but here they are.
    “What happened, Beet?” She can’t help asking. She feels certain there is something that Beatrice is not telling her. “Please tell me what happened.”
    Beatrice stiffens. “I already told you. They were killed. They weren’t saved, and I was. Don’t you see, I can’t just return to Severne. I have to give something back.”
    “You have to give back your life?”
    “No. I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t just go home.”
    Noises come from outside the hut, and then a man calls in to them.
    “They are here to change the rocks,” Johanna says. “Do you wish to stay longer?”
    Susanna stands up, more than ready to go. She is confused and concerned and solicitous all at once. Also annoyed. She feels sure that Beatrice is protecting her from something, but she doesn’t need protecting. Beatrice suddenly looks at Susanna’s feet.
    “Why are you wearing those moccasins?” she asks sharply.
    “They’re comfortable. And I think of Aurelia when I wear them.”
    “Susanna, that’s morbid. When we get back to the Birthing Hut you must take them off. Surely we can find you new boots.”
    “I don’t want new boots.”
    “How can you wear them knowing what happened?”
    Susanna looks down. She can imagine one of the brethren thinking that she is, like them, adopting Indian ways on principle. But she isn’t principled. She doesn’t want to be equal with anyone. She just likes how the moccasins feel.

Nine
    Brother Graves says, “Mr. Spendlove, if you are done there, I was hoping I might talk to you about the iron trade. We’ve had quite a time of it lately with some merchants from Detroit.”
    Seth is crossing the barn floor on his way outside. The smell of dry hay, tied into bales and stacked on either side, surrounds him. There are a few pieces of farming machinery in the corner near a long trestle table, where just a few minutes ago Seth was seated