Mariah and Jonas were married as soon as arrangements could be made.  They had a late summer wedding with the whole town in attendance.  Even Hannah and Jemima had managed to come, although their mother and father were still not entirely convinced of their good will.  But they had made many apologies for their behavior, saying that both of them had not been feeling well.  Their mother took them to meet Jonas and Mariah as Mrs. Goodbread’s café, where they were nervously received by the young couple.

Hannah and Jemima’s behavior toward Jonas and Mariah was beyond reproach that day.  They seemed so sincere in their apology and so genuinely excited about the upcoming wedding that Mariah and Jonas felt obliged to invite Mrs. Heartswell and her daughters to have tea with them.  The time past pleasantly and the girls were exceedingly polite to their mother and did not protest when she announced it was time to go home.

Mrs. Heartswell later shared with Mariah that the girls had become very industrious and after they had finished their chores at home, they went around the town to offer their services to others, particularly the elders.  It was as if they were trying to win the hearts of everyone in the town, although most of the community hadn’t been aware of their unpleasant behavior.  Mariah was happy for Mrs. Heartswell, and she knew the woman was hoping that Mariah would come around to ask her daughters to be bridesmaids.

But Mariah could not bring herself to do that.  She and Jonas agreed to not have a wedding party at all in order to not offend the Heartswells or anyone else who might have harbored a wish to be part of the wedding.  As it was, the whole town was involved in the wedding preparations.  Mariah only needed to have her wedding gown sewn, which Mrs. Thimble had offered to make for her, providing Mariah picked out the pattern and supplied the materials.  Jonas had two suits that he kept for formal occasions, and he only needed some trim added to the dark blue suit to make him presentable as a groom.

The townsfolk had suggested that the wedding be held on the grounds of the house.  Jonas and Mariah agreed but on the condition that they have a small ceremony to christen the house as well.  They felt it was worthy of a name.

The day could not have been more beautiful nor could the grounds.  Mariah had been tending the flower gardens with some of her friends and the flowers were in glorious, vivid colors of purple, pink and red, white and yellow.  The orchards were quickly recovering their previous stature, and the grass was again lush and springy.  The sky was a cloudless blue, and no wind threatened to make havoc with the place settings on the three broad tables brought up just for the reception.  The house stood proud and some of the townsfolk fancied that the house was happy about the wedding too.

Immediately following the ceremony, Jonah and Mariah, now Mr. and Mrs. Buckthorn, walked over to the house with a bottle of champagne.  Mariah was to do the honors of christening the house.  At the risk of being thought of as superstitious, Mariah chose to the break the bottle over a granite marker that had been placed especially for the occasion.  She couldn’t bring herself to actually hit the house, almost believing that she would hurt it.  Jonas had put a shawl over the marker and as Mariah raised the bottle, he quickly withdrew it.

“I christen this house the Kindfellow House,” shouted Mariah as she brought the bottle down on the marker.  “The Kindfellow House” had been etched in large script on the pink and gray granite with its original date of origin and its date of renovation in smaller script beneath.  The townsfolk applauded for several minutes, all believing that with this gesture, they could finally put behind them the horrible events of the past and look forward to a new future of halcyon days.

Hannah found her sister’s enthusiasm infectious, but she didn’t share Jemima’s rosy expectations.  She knew, even if her adored sister refused to, that Mr. Buckthorn would have to be killed.  She could see it in their faces, that deep, abiding love that would keep them forever bound to each other.  Only death could separate them.

Hannah didn’t have any qualms over killing Mr. Buckthorn, although she had never killed anything before.  Flies were always just shooed away.  Spiders were welcome in houses because they ate other pests and tended to keep to themselves.  She adored their old Manx, Mr. Whiskers, and was the first to insist on taking him to the vet at a mere sniffle.  She was sure that her antipathy toward Mr. Buckthorn had been born out of his lack of sympathy for the fright they had suffered in the master bedroom of the house.  And, as if it weren’t enough for him to be unsympathetic, he also had to humiliate them, discount their experience to mere imagination.  They both had been quite angry with him, and even Jemima had found it difficult to be civil to him when they came back to give him the quilt.

It was Miss Ringworthy who came to their rescue that day.  She had even supervised their quilting, for both Hannah and Jemima desired to become expert quilters and they wanted this quilt to be the best they had done yet.  She realized that they had always been possessive of Miss Ringworthy and hadn’t tolerated her giving attention to other children.

Hannah knew it was wrong to be proprietary toward her, but she couldn’t seem to help it.  She loved her mother and father, and would feel lost without them.  But there was something keenly special about Miss Ringworthy.  She thought Miss Ringworthy was everything she aspired to be.  Jemima said she felt the same way and the feelings only became more intense as they got older.  They idolized Mariah and would not accept that she might have feet of clay.

Hannah and Jemima fell asleep that night, their bond further strengthened by their resolve to win back Mariah’s favor.  Jemima chose to believe that they needed only to prove themselves more worthy of Miss Ringworthy’s love.  She didn’t care what happened to Mr. Buckthorn.  In spite of her protestations to the contrary, Jemima knew it would be easier if he was done away with, and she believed her sister capable of doing it.  But Hannah also knew that Jemima was more of a coward than she and for her plans for Mr. Buckthorn’s demise to work, she’d have to keep her beloved Jemima in the dark.

Hannah and Jemima did not feel threatened by their parents’ efforts to punish them for their rudeness to Jonas and Mariah.  They were too overwhelmed with anger toward the young couple to care what their parents did to them.  Just a couple of years ago they would have done anything to avoid being lectured and then sent to their room without tea.  They had their own bathroom adjoining the bedroom, so they did not even have to leave in order to relieve themselves.

The Heartswells were stern but loving parents, and their only desire was to see their children happy and healthy.  They took no pleasure from punishing them and were grateful that it was an infrequent occurrence.  When did it all change, they wondered, as so did the girls.  That afternoon, after church service, their father took them both by the arm and escorted them home, not speaking to them the whole time.  They knew they had gotten carried away, that they had let their anger get the best of them.

They had a very difficult time controlling their anger, and the effort often exhausted them.  And they were very disappointed in themselves since they knew their behavior toward Jonas and Mariah had precipitated their ouster from the church.  With still no words exchanged between them, their father locked them in their room and went downstairs to make his tea.  The girls huddled on the floor between their twin beds and were silent until they heard their father’s muffled movements in the kitchen.

“What are we going to do, Hannah,” asked Jemima, who always deferred to her sister.  “They are going to marry.  We can’t let that happen.”

“It’s because of the house,” replied Hannah.  “That house is evil.  Remember how it had frightened us?”

“Oh, yes, but I thought it was just angry and when we gave it the quilt, it forgave us,” Jemima said earnestly.  She was terrified of the house and did not want to believe that it still held ill feelings for her and Hannah.

“We can’t trust the house.  It wants Mr. Buckthorn and Miss Ringworthy to be together.  You heard the Reverend Goodheart.  They mean to live in the house because that is what it wants.”  Hannah spoke through clenched teeth and Jemima, not for the first time, felt uneasy with her otherwise adored sister.

“But if the house wants it, how can we stop them,” asked Jemima.  “We can’t turn them against each other.  They wouldn’t believe anything we’d say.  We can’t interrupt the wedding.  Everyone will just become angry with us.  No one trusts us anymore, Hannah.”  Jemima felt sad at her realization of their tarnished reputation.  She thrived when among people who loved her and wished her well.

Hannah was different, though.  She had always seemed apart, preferring solitude to social gatherings.  She didn’t know why she felt as she did.  She didn’t much care but she didn’t want to lose Jemima’s companionship.  She was now the only person that Hannah felt comfortable with.  They had been inseparable since they were toddlers, and Hannah didn’t want that to end.  She needed Jemima now more than ever, and they both needed Mariah.

“I know, Jemima, and, although it will be very hard, we must work to regain everyone’s trust.”

“How will we do that?”

“Slowly.  We must not waver in our efforts.”  Hannah grasped Jemima’s hands and leaned closer to her.  She lowered her voice to a whisper, although there was no one who could have heard them.

“It will take a long time but I believe that eventually we will be able to visit Miss Ringworthy at the house and resume our friendship with her.  At the same time, we have to come up with several contingency plans for getting rid of Mr. Buckthorn.”

“Getting rid of him?”  Jemima exclaimed and jerked away from her sister.  Hannah put a hand to Jemima’s mouth.  “Keep your voice down, girl,” she said in a harsh whisper.  “You must be careful.  You never know who might be outside our door.”

Jemima removed her sister’s hand from her mouth.  “Don’t be so dramatic, Hannah,” she said coolly, her fear replaced by irritation.  “You’re the one who got us into this predicament.  You’re the one who said that Miss Ringworthy would never abandon us, that she would never let us be unhappy, that she would give us our way if she thought we were angry with her.  Now, look at us!  Locked in our room!”

Jemima crossed her arms and rested her back against her bed.  Sometimes she just didn’t know who was the smarter sister.  Hannah was definitely the more devious but her little plots had got them into trouble more than once.

Hannah stared at her sister with the same eyes that so unnerved Mariah and Jonas.  Jemima squirmed a bit and tried to not let her sister get the upper hand.  She was starting to feel tired of always deferring to Hannah, her “big” sister who was in fact only ten months older than her.

“Hannah, stop it,” she said, her anxiety increasing the more Hannah stared at her.  She wanted to run to their door and pound on it until their father came to rescue her.  But she knew she dared not move.  All she could do to help herself would be to help Hannah.

“We need to be together in our efforts,” Hannah said softly but with an icy chill in her voice.  “We need to regain our position in the community and then with Miss Ringworthy.  Only once she trusts us again, will we be able to get rid of Mr. Buckthorn . . . in whatever way possible.”  She relaxed as she realized that Jemima had less resolve than she had.  Hannah had to humor her into thinking that Mr. Buckthorn would come to no harm.

“Perhaps we could get him to go away.  He has family on the outside.  Maybe we could make him think that something awful has happened and he has to go to them.”  Jemima warmed to this type of plan.  No real harm was involved and it could actually be fun.

“Oh, but what if he came back,” she said with a bit of excitement.

“We would worry about that then,” Hannah replied.  “The main goal would be to get him away at least long enough for us to regain Miss Ringworthy’s affections.”

“Perhaps she would even let us stay with her while he’s gone,” Jemima said excitedly.  She was back on Hannah’s side, and Hannah was relieved.  She leaned against her bed and listened to Jemima prattle on about all the fun things the three of them could do together.  Hannah joined in occasionally, stoking Jemima’s enthusiasm and imagination until the younger girl was convinced that eventually Mr. Buckthorn would disappear from the scene all together and the three of them—herself, Hannah, and Miss Ringworthy—would live together happily ever after.

While the congregation congratulated Jonas and Mariah, the Reverend Goodheart gestured to the young couple to come up and stand with him, while he told the congregation of their plans.  They were eager to obey his gesture, which they had been apprised of the night before.  They had been sitting on the edge of the pew, leaning forward as if to widen the distance between them and the icy atmosphere behind them. At the Reverend’s gesture, they practically ran to the his side and then positioned themselves so they would not see Hannah and Jemima.

When the service was over, Jonas and Mariah stayed at the dais while folk lined up to give their personal congratulations.  The news that they had decided to reside in the newly renovated house was very well-received and a number of the folk who had helped Jonas the most, said that they thought the contract was as good as met if Jonas and Mariah were to live in the house.  Jonas had fought back tears as the congregation spontaneously proclaimed a quorum and then unanimously voted to deem the contract met.  He wanted to say that he would still find a way to show his appreciation for all their support, but he could not speak for fear that he would openly cry.

For a time Mariah and Jonas forgot about Hannah and Jemima, surrounded as they were by well-wishers who slapped Jonas on the back and kissed Mariah on her cheeks.  Then Mrs. Heartswell appeared before them, her two sons holding on to her skirts.  Jonas and Mariah both turned pale but regained their composure when they saw that Hannah and Jemima were not with their mother.

Mrs. Heartswell gave a warm hug to both Jonas and Mariah and thanked them again for offering to watch her boys.  As she gave them over to the young couple, she said very quietly, “Hannah and Jemima wanted to come up, too, but I thought they were up to mischief given their rude behavior earlier.  They pleaded, but neither Father Heartswell nor I could be convinced that they meant well, so Father took them straight home.  Even if they had meant no harm, neither of us will abide them meeting either of you until they have made full apology to you both.

“Oh, Mariah,” she said as she started to turn away.  “I do hope this is just a phase that they are going through and that it won’t last much longer.”

“I am sure that is so,” Mariah said, trying to reassure Mrs. Heartswell although she no longer believed it herself.

Immediately following his sermon the next morning, the good Reverend announced the intention of Jonas and Mariah to marry.  The congregation responded with joyous applause and shouts of congratulations.  Reverend Goodheart felt pride in the two young people and a special devotion to them, since they were both without parents.  He and his wife had an impromptu celebration with them after Jonas and Mariah greeted them with the news.  They had coffee and peach pie.  The Reverend was greatly supportive of their plan to live in the house, saying that, without Jonas, the house would probably have razed.

However, there were two people in the congregation that were not pleased by the announcement of Jonas and Mariah’s forthcoming marriage.  Hannah and Jemima were sitting in the pew behind Jonas and Mariah, and they were already in a disagreeable mood because Mariah had chosen to sit with Jonas and not with them.  In fact, the idea of sitting with them had apparently never entered her mind since she and Jonas had arrived at the church together and took their seats without once seeing the girls until Mrs. Heartswell leaned forward to give them greetings.

In return, they twisted around and greeted the whole family with radiant smiles and a contented, “Good day to you all.”  Mr. and Mrs. Heartswell were both quite pleased at the sight of Jonas and Mariah sitting together for it could only mean one thing.

“It is a beautiful day,” said Mr. Heartswell, usually a man of few words.  “It’s already a nice warm temperature and promises to be balmy later this afternoon.”  The four agreed that, yes, the weather was perfect but then, almost as if they had practiced it, the four shuddered with a sudden chill and looked at each other with some confusion.  Then, as if as one, they all looked at Hannah and Jemima.

The two young girls were like glaciers with their preternaturally still bodies and their icy eyes staring straight ahead, as if they did not see Jonas and Mariah at all.  Mrs. Heartswell turned to her girls and sternly requested them to make their greetings to Mariah and Jonas.  The girls did not move nor did they speak.  Their two young brothers scrambled over them to find their parents’ laps and to giggle happily.  The girls did not move even then.

“Perhaps they don’t feel well this morning,” Mariah said, almost in a whisper.  “Best to leave them be, as Reverend Goodheart has just walked in.”

“Yes,” responded Mrs. Heartswell.  “You’re very kind to overlook the girls’ rudeness, but we will have to miss the church social and take them directly home for their punishment.  Too bad the boys will have to suffer too, but Father Heartswell and I will need to talk to the girls.”

“We could watch over your sons at the social and bring them home immediately,” Jonas said, eager to provide Mr. and Mrs. Heartswell some assistance.  He knew that the girls were angry with him and Mariah, and so he felt some responsibility toward the parents.

“Yes, Mrs. Heartswell, it would be a delight to watch the boys,” added Mariah.

As the little boys expressed their desire to stay with Mariah and Jonas, for they were great fans of the young couple, Hannah and Jemima lifted their faces.  The pure hatred that Mariah saw in their faces almost made her gasp.  At that moment she knew that their displeasure was no longer just with Jonas but with her as well.  That they could display such depth and intensity of emotion frightened Mariah.  She felt Jonas’s hand on her arm, gently pulling her to face the front of the church.  She vaguely heard Mrs. Heartswell say that they were truly generous people and that she and her husband would happily leave their sons to their supervision.  Jonas responded that it was their honor and then he straightened himself in the pew.  Looking sideways at each other, they saw the same fear in each other’s eyes.

How have we come to be afraid of two little girls, Mariah wondered to herself.  She made a mental note to see if she could transfer the girls to another teacher, perhaps even promote them to a higher class, if necessary.  No matter how she did it, she had to remove herself from the girls’ sphere.  Occasional contact would have to be tolerated, but she could no longer face them on a daily basis.

Now that Jonas and Mariah were betrothed, they needed to inform the Reverend Goodheart.  They went directly to his house and found the good reverend on his front porch with his wife of twenty-seven years.  He was languidly smoking an after-dinner pipe while Susan, his wife, knitted socks.  Susan was known as “The Knitter” and her goods were highly sought after.  She was not only quick and highly skilled in her knitting, but she could also knit under all manner of conditions, even, as tonight, in the dark.

His eyes well adjusted to the dark, the good Reverend saw Jonas and Mariah walking arm-in-arm up the quiet street to his house.  He removed the pipe from his mouth and said to his wife, “Well, Susan, I believe we’ll be having a wedding soon.”

“Really?,” she responded, looking down the street while her needles clicked and her hands fluttered like two small white birds in the dark.  “Ah, how wonderful,” she remarked when she saw Jonas and Mariah.  “Mrs. Heartswell and Mrs. Parrish had just been saying at last Wednesday’s quilting bee that they thought the two were getting quite close.  I don’t mind saying that we all agreed they make a lovely couple and would have a handsome family if they married.”

Her husband had resumed smoking his pipe and did not respond to her story, but Susan knew that her husband had been hoping for a wedding.  It had been too long since the last one and the town needed something to celebrate beside the renovation of the house.  That it would be Jonas and Mariah was like icing on the cake, he thought to himself.  Rich, creamy icing that you would dare to eat with a spoon.

After a few moments, Jonas retook his seat and they both resumed drinking their tea.  They felt giddy with the prospect of becoming husband and wife and, God willing, a family soon after.  Then Jonas decided to tell her of his plan for them to move into the house.  He had used his walk from the house to Mariah’s cottage to detail a plan for honoring his contract with the town and compensating all those who had helped him.

“Dearest Mariah, since we will marry and someday have a family, I thought it would be appropriate for us to move into Kindfellow the house.”  Mariah looked at him in surprise, but she did not protest.  Jonas continued.

“In order to honor my contract with the city, I thought I could sell our two houses and divide the total sum among those who helped me.  If the sale of our two houses falls short of what I had anticipated getting for the house, then I can arrange to make up the difference through my services or a monthly deposit to an account or both.”

“Jonas, that is truly honorable, but how will we sustain ourselves?  My salary is not enough for two people in a big house to live on, much less a family.”  Mariah was showing herself to be much more grounded and practical minded than Jonas, which he thought was a very good thing.  He often had his head in the clouds and he needed someone to keep him down to earth.

“Thank you, Mariah,” he said.  “I do need to establish our own source of income first.”  He leaned toward her, his hands clasped and his elbows on the table.  Mariah also leaned forward and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, thoroughly enjoying this discussion of their future together.

“My parents left me a small trust which I could live on without ever having to work again.  But that’s not possible here.  Everyone works and rejoices in their work, and I have done and will continue to do the same.  Because I have worked, I have not needed to withdraw from the trust except once or twice in the past ten years.  Thus, it has grown substantially but I would want to use it only in emergencies.”

“Of course,” Mariah murmured, gratified that her fiancé knew how to handle money.  She was no spendthrift but she did not know much about money beyond having a savings account from which she paid her bills.

“I plan to continue selling houses as they come available,” Jonas continued, “but I also want to start going to market.  We can grow and sell vegetables like everyone does, keeping back enough for ourselves.  I know how to hunt and we can easily barter for any other goods we may need.”

Mariah nodded her head as Jonas went on.  It was one of the many things that Mariah loved about Constance.  The town had its own internal economy based on bartering and a subsistence way of life.  There was always someone who could do something better than yourself, and always something you could do better than others.  Mariah had a green thumb and often nursed sick plants and gardens back to life in exchange for homemade soups and freshly baked breads.  Mariah was a mediocre cook, something that she hoped Jonas would not mind or notice.

Even the doctors Finecare and Keepwell were often paid for their services in goods and services.  Dr. Finecare seemed especially appreciative of bartering, once rhetorically asking why money should be used to pay for services when he would just take that money and give it back to the same people in exchange for food.  Dr. Keepwell was a little less charitable about it, but only because he was getting old and there were many foods he could no longer eat without discomfort.

“I am quite good with gardening, Jonas,” she said as Jonas stopped to pour more tea for the both of them.  “We can barter the flowers and even sell them at the markets.  Would you be willing to apprentice with Mr. Hardwood and his son?”

Jonas looked at her doubtfully.  “I am not much of a craftsman, Mariah.  I would hate to waste Mr. Hardwood’s time.”

“But you’ve never been properly taught,” urged Mariah.  “You obviously appreciate the fine work that Mr. Hardwood and the others do.  Why can’t you learn from them?  At least try.  You may have a hidden talent for carving headboards or caning chairs.”  She spoke coyly, but she meant every word.  No one could appreciate fine craftsmanship as much as Jonas did and not have an affinity for it.

He smiled and said that he would talk with Mr. Hardwood.  They finished their tea and discussed their next step toward their new future.

Mariah had slept for an hour but she did not feel rested.  Her slumber had been filled with dreams of her and Jonas living in the house.  At first they were happy dreams running like still photos in a slide show.  Jonas was preparing a slide show for the community and Mariah was helping him.  She dreamt of the photos but with Jonas and her in each of them, looking happy, contented, and deeply in love.  The same photos cycled again in her dreams, but now they also included Hannah and Jemima, and for the first time Mariah could plainly see the hatred they had for Jonas.  She could see that they meant him harm.  The realization of their animosity toward Jonas frightened her so much that she woke from her dream in a cold sweat, her breathing rapid and shallow, her heart pounding.

She sat up in her bed and saw that it was almost dusk.   She reclined against the headboard, waiting for her heart and breathing to return to normal.  Why would she see such strong and fierce emotion in these two young girls, she wondered.  She thought she knew them well.  She thought they were like other girls their age:  prone to emotional highs and lows, but all being superficial and fleeting.  They would grow out of their possessive nature, she often told herself.   She had been aware for many years that they felt a special attachment to her, but she had shared that attachment, perhaps even more so after her parents’ death.

Mariah had been an only child, as her own parents had been.  Her grandparents had been deceased for quite some time, so for years it had only been her and her parents.  When they died, she was desperate for a family to attach to.  She had never thought of making her own family.  Rather she turned to the Heartswells since her parents and Mr. and Mrs. Heartswell had been close.

Now as a schoolteacher, she had dozens of children to dote over, although she admitted to herself that she had favored Hannah and Jemima.  The other children had not seemed to notice, or at least did not express any jealousy.  But Hannah and Jemima had always been a bit more possessive, a bit more unwilling to share her time, even her body.

Mariah got up from her bed, feeling terribly thirsty, and went to her kitchen to make tea, all the while still musing about Hannah and Jemima.  She recalled how they used to push away other children who might cling to her dress, or deliberately separate another child’s hand from Mariah’s when they wanted to feel the softness and gentle clasp of her hand over theirs.  The other children protested little and Mariah thought it was because they didn’t care, but it slowly dawned on her that they might have been afraid of Hannah and Jemima.

As she filled the kettle with water, a knock sounded at her door.  Still deep in thought she was startled by the knock.  She put the kettle down on the gas burner.  Whoever it is, she thought, I must offer them tea.  Through the lace-curtained windowpane on her door, she saw a tall shadow, obviously male and her heart jumped with the thought that it might be Jonas.

Indeed it was and, without either saying a word, she went directly into his arms and they stood holding each other for some minutes, before the singing of the kettle made them jump apart.  They both laughed gently and Mariah politely asked Jonas if he would care to take tea with her.  “After all, Mr. Buckthorn” she said with a slight flirtatious air, “you had treated me to tea and cakes earlier today.”

“I would be delighted, Mistress Ringworthy,” Jonas responded with the same playful air.  Neither of them spoke to the propriety of being alone in Mariah’s home.  They both knew that soon, before the evening was ended, they will have committed to a binding relationship that would last the rest of their lives.

They sat at Mariah’s kitchen table, already preferring the familiarity of kitchens to the formality of dining rooms.  After his first sip of the hot and gently scented Earl Grey tea, Jonas gently cleared his throat.  Mariah sat demurely, her hands clasped on her lap.  Her head was slightly bowed for now she felt shy and a bit nervous.

Jonas moved from his chair and down onto one knee, and gently took her hands in his.  He had thought to make some small talk first, but he felt impatient.  There were so many more important things they would have to discuss; he simply could not wait.

“Mariah,” he began. “I have admired you for a long time now, and I have grown to treasure our time together.”  He wanted to look into her eyes as he spoke, but her head remained bowed.  He took one hand and gently lifted her chin.  His heart swelled at the sight of her dewy eyes.

“Mariah,” he continued. “I feel a deep, abiding love for you.  I wish for us to marry and spend the rest of our lives together.  Will you do me the honor?”  He felt surprisingly sure of himself and his voice was more steady and confident than it had ever been before.

A tear broke from Mariah’s eye and caressed her cheek.  She gave Jonas a radiant smile as she said, “Yes, Jonas.  Yes, my love.  Yes, my husband.”  With that they embraced and then kissed for the first time.

The men finished well before their supper time and took their leave of Jonas with much winking and elbowing and queries as to whether he might need his own tiny house renovated, in the case that his bachelor days might soon be over. Jonas laughed with them, but said neither yea nor nay. He realized that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Mariah, but he hadn’t formally asked her, and until he had asked and received a positive response, he would make no assumptions about his future with her.

Once he was alone in the house, he began his routine of checking each room and securing the house so he too could go home. He wanted to talk with Mariah. He would ask her to marry him and, he thought, he would have to enlist the help of his neighbors again, this time to enlarge his home. For a short while two people might live comfortably in it, but if they were to have a family . . .. His musing was interrupted by the sudden awareness of the house.

He sat down at the window seat in the attic and gazed out at the great expanse of land that belonged to the house. Everything was in bloom. The orchard was sprouting buds that would eventually turn into fruit. Lettuce and radishes were peaking up at him from the enriched soil of the vegetable garden, and the delicate pink tea roses were being to bud. The grass had been cut that morning and the earthy scent of mowed grass still hung in the late afternoon air. It was an idyllic scene and, again, his heart ached at the thought of giving it up.

“But you don’t have to give it up,” said the house softly. “You could live here, with Mariah.”

“But I need to sell the house. I need to honor my contract with the town,” Jonas said out loud.

“You and Mariah belong here,” the house went on. “You belong here. Come live here and let me be happy again.”

“I don’t see how I can,” complained Jonas. He was an honest man and now that the house was complete, he had every intention of following through with the contract. He also knew that the house could never have been reborn if the people of Constance had not helped him. They deserved to be compensated.

“They will be compensated by you and Mariah living in this house as husband and wife,” the house said. “They will say that I am your wedding gift and that if you fill me with children, they will consider themselves well-compensated.”

“That is too generous,” Jonas argued. “They are good people, but they cannot afford that level of generosity. Even if they do as you say, I would have to refuse their gift. It would be the only honorable thing to do.”

He got up from the window seat and continued through the rest of the rooms. The house didn’t speak, and Jonas wondered what it was thinking. Then he castigated himself. He was responding to the house as if it were a human being. He had grown to accept that it had some kind of spirit that would communicate with him, but it wasn’t human.

As he went down the staircase, its new thick carpet absorbing the thud of his boots, he resolved to stop by Mariah’s cottage before he did anything else upon his return to town. He would ask to be invited in. He knew it was technically improper but he thought his actions would be forgiven under the circumstances. He went to open the front door and it would not give. It wasn’t yet locked, but still the door would not open.

He could turn the doorknob but the door would not budge. He turned to look for his tools so he could unscrew the doorknob when a light chill air swept over him.

“You cannot leave here,” the house said with a stern tone that Jonas had not heard before. It made him feel rather uneasy. “You cannot leave until you consent to live here with Mariah.”

Jonas wrinkled his brow in exasperation and began to explain again why that was not possible. The house interrupted him.

“If you refuse, if you place some other family within my walls, I tell you now that they will not be safe.”

Jonas felt an icy shiver down his spine. “You would harm them?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps I will merely frighten them. No one can live within me but you and Mariah.”

“Why?” Jonas shouted, feeling a confusion of frustration, anger, and fear. “Why do you insist? Are you not satisfied with all the work we have done for you?”

A heavy silence greeted his questions. Jonas sensed the house’s displeasure with him and wondered if it would let him leave alive.

“I will do no harm if you promise me that you and Mariah will come to live here.”

Jonas sighed. He did not feel that he deserved to live in the house. He was not good enough. He merely directed the renovations. He had no craftsmanship to speak of. He sat down on the staircase and put his head in his hands. So maybe I’m not good enough, he thought to himself, but Mariah deserves to live in such a grand house. He was already convinced that she deserved the best of all he could give her. If the house insisted, then he would give her the house.

And then he thought of his mother and her distant ties to the Kindfellows. “Perhaps,” he said out loud. “Perhaps I could belong here, with Mariah.” He heard a soft click and the front door slowly opened. He still felt a bit frightened; what would he be getting himself and Mariah into, living in a house that had a temper? A trickle of laughter floated toward him. Jonas had forgotten that the house could read his mind.

Jonas jumped up and dashed through the open doorway before the house could change its mind about letting him go. He had to be careful when in the house. He had to somehow control his thoughts.

Chapter Forty-One

After Jonas left, the house drew down the shades and prepared for slumber. But it could not sleep. It kept thinking of Hannah and Jemima, the strong and dangerous emotions that emanated from them. It had been fooled by their gift of atonement. They had wanted to see how the house would react. It began to regret forgiving them. Any courage the girls now felt in entering the house had been allowed by the house itself.

“I can’t let them send me back into the abyss of loneliness. I won’t let them. I’ll kill them before they interfere with me or my new family.” The hoarse whisper of the house reverberated through its empty rooms, making the chandelier quiver.

The trip back to Hannah and Jemima’s home was uncomfortable for Mariah.  The girls were obvious in their pleasure at the thought of Jonas leaving town, and they freely and unselfconsciously talked about the time the three of them—Mariah and the girls—would have together.  Hannah and Jemima tried to make it seem as if they only wanted to keep Mariah company while Jonas was gone, but their glee suggested otherwise.

“On Sundays, you should come home with us and we can bake pies and cakes and then take them to the poorest among us.  On Saturdays, we can all go to the library and study, like we used too,” said Hannah as she happily skipped ahead of Mariah.
“And perhaps we should take tea with you at school, since Mr. Buckthorn won’t be here to do so.  All the time you spent with Mr. Buckthorn, you can now spend with us,” said Jemima in too jubilant a voice.

Mariah only responded with “perhaps” to each girl’s suggestion.  Her heart was aching over the thought of Jonas being gone, and she was being to feel offended at the proprietary way in which Hannah and Jemima spoke to her.  She felt that they were not making suggestions, but rather were telling her how things would be in Jonas’ absence.  They should be outgrowing this kind of attachment to me, she thought to herself.  They should be this attached to their own blood, their own family much as I want to be to my future family.

Her last few words, “my future family,” lingered in her mind throughout the rest of the day.  She had seen in Jonas’s eyes, when he first saw her and the girls standing in the kitchen doorway, a glimpse into the future.  Suddenly it was as if she and her daughters were in the doorway, greeting Jonas, her husband and their father.  That vision had held them both locked together in thought while the men elbowed each other in good humor and the girls sulked.  She needed to speak with Jonas.  As much as she wanted to be demure and allow him the responsibility to set the time and place of their engagement–if he wanted to be engaged–she felt the time called for boldness on her part.  The sooner that Mariah and Jonas became engaged, the sooner Hannah and Jemima could start letting go.

In spite of their cajoling, Mariah left the girls just within their front door, pleading that she was tired and wanted to lie down.  They had gotten quite a bit of exercise walking to and from the house, nearly eight miles up and back, but it had been such a lovely day.  So perfect for such a walk, and she had been delighted that Hannah and Jemima had joined her.  She would no doubt see them at church the next morning, she said, and then left them pouting at her back.