'Rees. Will Rees.' Deeper masculine tones joined the woman's shrill cry. Recognizing the constable's voice, Rees put his musket on top of the cabinet. Six thirty was too early for company and, besides, the events of the past eighteen months had made him cautious. He did not think he would ever recover from the persecution he and his family had suffered in his hometown of Dugard a year ago this past summer.

He opened the door. Constable Rouge and his sister Bernadette, the local midwife, came in from the cold. Rees extended a hand to take their cloaks but Rouge shook his head. 'We aren't staying,' he said.

'What brings you out so early on such a cold day?' Lydia asked, wiping her hands on her apron as she turned from the sink. She inspected Bernadette and then exchanged a glance with Rees. Recent tears glistened on Bernadette's cheeks and her hair hung down from her cap in loose untidy strings.

'We need your help,' Bernadette said, clasping and unclasping her hands. Despite the winter weather, she had forgotten her gloves and her skin was red with cold.

'Coffee? Tea?' Lydia asked, extending her hands to grasp Bernadette's.

'Sit down and tell us how we can assist you,' Rees said. Bernadette and her daughter Hortense, also a midwife although still in her teens, had delivered his baby girl. He glanced at Sharon, lying asleep on a blanket by the hearth. She had just learned to walk and usually faded into exhausted naps a few times each day. Since the family rose before four, Sharon had been running around for two and half hours. Rees suspected Lydia would have liked to join her daughter. Trying to control a busy and active toddler at the same time she took care of the house left her weary.

As she helped Bernadette remove her scarlet cloak Rees urged Rouge to the table. He sat down with his legs astride as though prepared to dash away at a second's notice. Bernadette sat down next to her brother but jumped to her feet a few seconds later and began to pace, twisting her hands together.

Lydia went to the fireplace to push the kettle over the flames. 'Tell us what happened,' she said.

'Hortense is missing,' Bernadette said. 'She was called out to deliver a baby over two weeks ago. Oh dear.' Her words ended on a sob. Putting her hands over her face she turned her back. Rees saw her shoulders shaking with weeping.

'Hortense did not come home,' Rouge said as his sister fought for control. Bernadette turned around, her handkerchief still held to her face.

'When she didn't come home for a few days, I didn't worry,' she said, her voice thick. 'Sometimes births take longer than one expects. But Mr Bennett came into town early this morning and he said the birth went quickly and Hortense left his farm over a week ago. Almost two weeks.' She looked up at Rees, her face contorted with terror. 'What could have happened?'

Once Rees might have wondered if a local tribe had taken the girl, but even this part of the District of Maine had been civilized twenty and more years.

'I found her cart,' Rouge broke in. 'Abandoned by the side of the road.'

'The horse was gone,' Bernadette said. 'Do you see what this means? She had an accident or something and is lost in the woods.'

'It means somebody accosted her —' Rouge began.

As Bernadette began to speak once again, her voice rising in fear, Rees raised his voice and said firmly, 'One at a time, please.'

'We shouldn't assume the worse quite yet,' Lydia said as she put a cup of tea in front of Bernadette. 'Perhaps she was injured and walked to the nearest farm for help.'

'There aren't any farms nearby,' Rouge said. 'The forest is thick there, in the foothills of Gray Hill.'

Rees glanced at his wife. His wife was chewing her lower lip. 'Oh dear,' she said.

'There are a few homes on the mountain,' Bernadette said. 'Maybe she found her way to one ...?' Her voice wobbled to a stop and tears filled her eyes.

'We're asking everyone to join us in searching for her,' Rouge said.

'Of course we'll help,' Lydia said immediately.

Rees nodded. 'Have you asked the Shakers in Zion to search?' he asked.

'We didn't think they would agree,' Rouge said. 'We are too much of the World,' he added resentfully, quoting a common Shaker phrase.

'They've been very kind to us,' Lydia said. 'They gave us garden sass and other foods as well as our cow Daisy. I bought the beginnings of a flock of chickens from them. And some of the Brothers assisted Will in putting in a field of buckwheat.' Although Rees did not contradict his wife, he would not have described the Shakers' actions as kind. Yes, the Zion community had been generous to offer Lydia and the children refuge after they had fled Dugard. She had been accused of witchcraft and Rees, accused of murder and in danger himself, had feared for both their lives.

But the Zion community had expected to take possession of the farm Lydia had inherited from her first husband. They had surrendered the property to Rees with reluctance, only doing so after he had identified a murderer among their community and demanded the farm in exchange.

'They owe you a debt,' Rouge said now, directing a pointed glance in Rees's direction. 'You solved several murders for them. They have no reason to aid me or my sister.'

'I'll ask them,' Rees said. 'I think they may be willing to join the search for a young woman. Where have you looked?'

Bernadette glanced at her brother. Rouge shrugged. 'I went along the North Road until I found the cart.'

'How did you know it was hers?' Lydia asked.

'I built a cover over the seat to protect her from the elements ...' Rouge's voice drifted into silence.

Rees stared through the kitchen window. Although a few weeks remained before Christmas the winter snows had begun in November. Several inches already carpeted the ground and he knew more was on its way. While out milking early this morning he could smell snow in the air. And it was cold. Not the icy bitterness of January, perhaps, but no one would want to be outside for very long.

'Where are the children?' Bernadette asked, looking around.

'Walking to school,' Lydia said. This year even Joseph, almost three and a half, had joined his siblings. 'Sharon is sleeping.' She nodded at the fireplace. 'And Simon ...' She bit her lip and looked at her husband.

'Simon joined our eldest son David in Dugard a few months ago,' Rees said. 'David's wife is increasing and David needed the help.' Almost eight, Simon loved farming as much as David and was already an experienced farmer. Rees missed the little boy's help; that was true. But he missed Simon's presence, especially the funny things he said, with an ache that never seemed to disappear.

'But David was just married,' Bernadette said, momentarily diverted.

'A year ago now,' Rees said.

'I didn't attend the wedding,' Lydia said. 'Remember? I remained here, with Sharon and Joseph.' Bernadette nodded as though that made perfect sense. Rees knew Lydia had wanted to go and would have hauled the younger children with her if it had been safe. But the accusation of witchcraft against her was still alive in Dugard. And, sure enough, Rees had seen Constable Farley creep into the Meetinghouse.

A small structure of local stone, the building contained hard wooden benches that circled a table. Rees had found the absence of a pulpit surprising but the service, or lack of one, was even more so. The congregation, if it...