THE
GIFTED
By
Ann H.
Gabhart
Gabhart's Shaker
series continues with more of the same impeccable research and moving characters
who are searching for their place in the world and learning to let God guide
them. – RT Book
Reviews
Jessamine Brady
has been in the Shaker Village for half her young life, but in spite of how she
loves her sisters there, she struggled to conform to the strict rules. Instead
she entertains dreams of the world outside. When Tristan Cooper seems to step
out of those dreams to entice her into the forbidden realm beyond the shaker
Village, her life turns upside down. Will Jessamine be able to survive the
storms of the world? Or will she retreat back to the peace of Harmony
Hill?
Excerpt from
The Gifted
Jessamine was
ready to turn back when she caught sight of a boot up ahead of her. A boot that
was connected to a man lying in a deep rut. She hardly dared breathe as she
stepped closer to the man who was lying much too still. Blood oozed from an
angry looking wound on the side of his head, and his right arm was bent in an
unnatural angle.
With relief, she noted his closed eyes. That could be a hopeful sign.
Much better than open and staring at nothing but the beyond side of death, she
decided as she peered at his chest. Yea, he was definitely breathing, but she
couldn't see the least bit of flutter to his eyelids. The fall must have knocked
him senseless.
Jessamine had no idea what to do next. Go for help of course, but how
without leaving the man there alone? That seemed wrong. She moved another step
closer to him. His felt hat had spilled off and dark brown hair tumbled down
over his forehead.
She shut her eyes and opened them again. He was definitely there. Still
as stone, but definitely there. Dark whiskers were beginning to shadow his clean
shaven cheeks. She stooped down beside him and reached her hand toward his face.
She couldn't remember ever touching a man's face. Her granny had no use for men
other than the old preacher and the princes who populated her
stories.
"Make them up," her granny would say as she rocked back and forth in the
chair on the porch. "That's the only kind to have truck with, my sweet little
Jessamine. You keep that in mind when you get older, child. Wait for your
prince. The good Lord will send one."
Of course, the Believers thought the Lord had changed his mind about men
and women marrying and having families. The believed marriage was a sin a person
did well to repent of and set aside. To keep back the normal temptations of the
flesh, the Shakers made sure no touching went on between the sisters and
brothers with their separate doorways and staircases. They feared even a slight
brush against one of the opposite sex might plummet a Believer into sin.
So it could be with her touching this man's cheek. Her hand hovered in
the air over him. The warmth of his skin rose up to her and she told herself she
should put her hand behind her. What was that Bible verse where the Lord said it
was better to chop off one's hand instead of letting it pull one into sin? But
what was so sinful about a touch? No one would have to know. She wouldn't have
to admit her sin of curiosity to Sister Sophrena. While the good sister claimed
unconfessed sin was a burden on the soul, so far Jessamine hadn't felt all that
burdened when she kept a lapse of obedience to herself. She rather thought it
was a favor to Sister Sophrena not admitting all her wayward thoughts.
For years, the
good sister had tried to get Jessamine to embrace the Shaker way, but Jessamine
couldn't stop her wondering. She wanted to know things. And it would be good to
know exactly how a man's face might feel under her hand instead of just
imagining it.
"Is he dead?"
Jessamine was so
startled by the voice she almost fell on top the man. She caught her balance and
jerked back her hand as she scrambled to her feet. With her hand over her heart
and a bit out of breath, she turned to stare at Sister Annie behind her. "You
startled me, Sister Annie. I didn't know you followed me."
"I didn't want
to. Believe me. But we are sisters and if there's danger, it's my duty to share
it with you."
Jessamine turned
back to the man in front of her. "I don't think he is a danger to
us."
"Perhaps not in
his current state, but what about the gunshot? You keep forgetting that there
was gunfire." Sister Annie leaned forward to peer around Jessamine toward the
man. "Does he have a gun?"
Jessamine let
her eyes sweep down the man's slender body. He wore a coat something like the
brothers wore to meeting, but of a richer looking cloth and his shirt was very
white. The coat lay open and revealing the belt around the waist of his
trousers. "No gun that I can see."
"Well, somebody
had one. If not him, then somebody else." Sister Annie looked around. Her voice
trembled as she went on. "Somebody who could be watching us right now. May our
Eternal Father up in heaven protect us."
"Do you think he
was shot?" Jessamine knelt down beside the man again. She thought of pulling her
handkerchief out of her apron pocket to wipe away the blood on the side of his
face. That could not be sinful even in Sister Annie's eyes. "We have to help
him."
Sister Annie
surprised her by agreeing. "Yea, but how?"
"You can go to
the village and get help while I wait here with him."
"Nay. I won't
leave you alone with a man of the world and besides I would get lost a dozen
times trying to get back to the village. That would be no help to him or us
either. By the time the elders sent out people to search for us, the man might
be dead."
Jessamine's
heart jumped up in her throat. "We can't let him die."
"God holds the
number of our days."
"But I don't
want him to die." Jessamine kept her eyes on the man's face.
"You don't even
know him, Sister Jessamine. You are only imagining one of your stories in your
head that get you into nothing but troubling fixes." Sister Annie's voice was
cross again. "This man is not one of the princes in the fairytales your
grandmother told you."
"Yea, Sister
Annie. You are right, but even so, we must take him back to the village where
Brother Benjamin can treat him for his injuries."
"That might be a
proper plan, but how?"
"Perhaps on his
horse." Jessamine suggested. The horse might still be nearby.
"The man's arm
appears to be broken. He could have other bones broken as well. Even if we were
strong enough to do so, we might make his injuries worse putting him on a
horse."
"Well, if we
can't move him and we can't leave him, what can we do?" Jessamine looked at his
face with the blood trickling down toward his ear from the angry gash on his
head. She did take out her handkerchief then and dabbed it against the wound.
She waited to see if Sister Annie would condemn her actions, but when she did
not, Jessamine reached out with her other hand to take hold of the handkerchief.
With great care
to make her movement look totally unplanned, she gingerly laid her hand down on
the man's cheek. The emerging whiskers were prickly under her fingers. She
forgot about Sister Annie watching her and ran her fingers up his cheek toward
his eye. There his skin was smooth and his lashes soft as downy feathers. Quite
without thinking she dropped the handkerchief and touched her own eyelashes with
her other hand. His felt much the same as hers.
"Whatever are
you doing, Sister Jessamine?"
"Just wiping the
blood from the gash on his head," she said quickly.
"I might be more
apt to believe that if the handkerchief were in your hand instead of forgotten
on the ground."
A flush rose up
into Jessamine's cheeks as she snatched up the handkerchief and began dabbing at
the bloody gash again. "Forgive me, Sister. But I had never touched a man's face
before. I have continually wondered about their whiskers. How they might
feel."
"Sister Sophrena
often says your curiosity may be the death of you, but whether or not that is
true, I am beginning to fear it will be the death of me." Sister Annie let out a
long sigh. "And we are not one iota nearer a solution to our dilemma than we
were. We have no choice. We must leave him here and go back to the village.
Elder Joseph will know what to do."
"I suppose you
are right."
Reluctantly
Jessamine lifted her hand away from the man's face and started to stand. But
before she could get to her feet the man's eyes popped open and he grabbed her
wrist. She sucked in a startled breath as Sister Annie let out a frightened yelp
behind her. She jerked to free herself but the man's grip was strong. She was
caught as surely as a rabbit in a snare. So she went still and stared down into
eyes the brown of butternut.
After a moment,
she said, "Hello." Her voice carried hardly any tremble at
all.
The
Gifted is
available online at ChristianBook.com, www.bn.com, Amazon.com or other on-line
booksellers and at bookstores everywhere.
Visit
Ann's website - http://www.annhgabhart.com.
Copyright
©2012 by Ann H. Gabhart
Published
by Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group
ISBN:
978-0-8007-3455-8
All
rights reserved. Do not reproduce without permission.
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