The Gifted

by Ann H. Gabhart

  Perhaps it was Sister Edna forever frowning by her side that was making Jessamine feel the backward pull toward the freedom of her early years when her granny let her rise or sleep when she chose. She taught Jessamine when she was ready to learn and told her stories when she was ready to dream. But Jessamine was no longer a child. No longer a free spirit of the woods. She was a Shaker sister with responsibilities and penance to pay and the willingness to pay it in order to return to peaceful communion with her sisters.

  And yet things were not the same. Even before Sister Edna was tied to her in constant supervision, things had not been the same for her in the Shaker village. She knew exactly when they had changed. The stranger in the woods. It was the touch of his face, so different under her fingers, that had begun the unsettling of her life. Merely the sight of his warm brown eyes staring at her had unleashed strange new feelings inside her. Then when he traced her lips with the tip of his finger, her granny’s stories of princes and love began dancing through her thoughts in a new way as a yearning awakened inside her for things that could not be.

  That was why it had been hard to come up with the proper words of prayer as she knelt by her bed. In the back of her mind she kept hearing the echo of her granny’s words. “Love will find you, my sweet Jessamine. Never fear. Someday love will find you.”

  “But how will I know it’s true love, Granny?” The memory of her child’s voice sounded in her head.

  “The stars in the sky will be brighter. The sunshine in the spring will be warmer. The scent of the roses will be sweeter. Your toes will want to dance and your heart will want to sing.”

  “Were you ever in love?”

  Even now Jessamine remembered the look on her granny’s face as she answered. “Oh yes, my sweet child. Oh yes. It is something not to be missed. No matter the cost, it is something not to be missed.”

  “I haven’t missed it. I love you.” Jessamine had grabbed her granny around the middle and hugged her tightly.

  Her granny had laughed and hugged Jessamine back every bit as tightly. “And I love you, my child. That too is a love I wouldn’t have wanted to miss. But the love I speak of is the love between a man and a woman. A love given by the good Lord above that is rewarded with beautiful children like you. Someday you will know that kind of love. When your prince comes.”

  Jessamine wished she could ask her granny some more questions. Like did love make a person feel like ants were crawling around inside one’s skin? Did it make a girl ready to forget every rule over her life? And what did a girl do when the prince came and then left? If that happened, then Jessamine was surely only imagining the stranger from the woods to be her prince. In her granny’s stories, the prince never rode away without the princess. He fought dragons and witches and all manner of evil, but the happily-ever-after kiss always happened at the end.

  There could be no happily-ever-after ending for Jessamine with the stranger from the woods. Not with the man she now knew was Tristan Cooper. He was no prince. He had ridden away without even seeking her out to say goodbye. She had merely allowed her imagination to gallop away with her without reining it in, as Sister Sophrena so often told her she must.

  Perhaps that should have been her prayer while on her knees before the start of the day, for truly the words she’d let slide through her mind begging the Lord for another sight of the stranger from the woods were wrong prayer words. Even sinful words and none the Lord or Mother Ann would bend ears down to hear. Instead they had surely clapped their hands over their ears to block out her prayer. And yet, she could not deny the yearning was there.

  She should confess such feelings, for they were a stumbling block in her path. She could do so to Sister Sophrena, but never to Sister Edna. Jessamine had no idea who was to hear her confessions now that Sister Edna had been instructed to keep her under constant surveillance.

  Once dressed and with Sister Edna by her side, the morning chores were tiresome but familiar as Jessamine gathered dirty linens and clothing and emptied and cleaned chamber pots. Sister Edna considered watching Jessamine to be her duty and did naught else as she followed after Jessamine at the ready to point out the slightest lack in Jessamine’s work. It was a great relief to go into the morning meal where Sister Edna’s voice could not be droning in Jessamine’s ears for at least the length of time they ate their meal in silence.

  Unfortunately she could not hope for the same during the day as they worked in the gardens. It would be more of the same chiding words. More fault-finding. More spirit crushing. She almost wished they were assigned to the washhouse—a duty she abhorred. There the noise of the washing machines and sloshing clothes made conversation almost impossible. But the good planting weather was holding, and since it was already past the middle of June, there was some urgency to get the seed of the late crop cucumbers and beans into the ground. All available hands would be in the fields this day while the sun shone and the rains held off. Once the seeds were planted would be the time of prayer for rain.

  “Sisters, please wait. I have need to talk to Sister Jessamine,” Sister Sophrena called after them as they left the house to go to the gardens.

  Jessamine stopped at the bottom of the stone steps down from the door, glad to see Sister Sophrena rushing after them. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth for the first time since she’d left her dreams behind that morning.

  There was no similar lift to Sister Edna’s mouth. Instead she frowned as she muttered, “Keep in mind we have no time to engage in empty chatter.”

  Sister Sophrena’s hearing was sharp, and she fastened stern eyes on Sister Edna as she said, “I have not chased after you with any sort of chatter, my sister. Only a message from the Ministry for our sister.”

  Hope fluttered up inside Jessamine. Perhaps the Ministry had decided her penitent attitude was sincere and were going to lift the constant supervision.

  “Yea, forgive me, Sister Sophrena. I was only warning our young sister that there is much work awaiting us in the gardens. Good and useful work to profit our Society much in the coming weeks and months.” Sister Edna glanced over at Jessamine. “Our sister has a tendency to dawdle at times.”

  Jessamine had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from refuting Sister Edna’s words as she shot a look at the woman next to her. She had not dawdled at all in the two days they had worked together. Except for that morning in prayer. She supposed she had prayed a dawdling prayer. A sinful prayer. Jessamine lowered her eyes to the ground. She wouldn’t want either sister to guess the real reason for the blush rising in her cheeks.

  “Nay, Sister Edna, you are not being fair. Our young sister has always been competent and dutiful in accomplishing any tasks assigned to her,” Sister Sophrena said. “But as I said, this has naught to do with the work duties for the day. The garden will await after our sister receives the message from those who know best for our community.”

  “What message is that? She has only been under supervision a short time. As yet she is not ready to be trusted to withstand the temptations that plague her.” Sister Edna sounded worried her time of importance might be so soon at an end.

  “There is a letter they wish her to read,” Sister Sophrena said softly.

  “A letter? To me?” Jessamine’s eyes flew up to Sister Sophrena’s face. “From someone in the world?” Could the Lord be answering her prayer of the morning with a letter? From the stranger? From the man named Tristan Cooper?

  “Yea,” Sister Sophrena said.

  She was ready to say more, but Jessamine jumped in front of her words. “But I know no one from the world. How could I receive a letter?”

  “Calm yourself, my little sister. The letter has been here since shortly after you came among us. We were instructed to keep it until such time as you were old enough to read and understand its message.” Sister Sophrena hesitated a moment. “The leaders realize you are going through a time of turmoil, but it is well-known that such can lead to spiritual growth and to clearer eyes to make the
right choices. Words on a letter will not change the truth of your place among us, and so it has been decided that it would not be right to keep the letter from you any longer.”

  “What does the letter say?”

  “Yea, Sister Sophrena,” Sister Edna put in. “What does this letter say?”

  Sister Sophrena spared a quick glance toward Sister Edna before directing her full gaze at Jessamine. “That I cannot say. I have not seen the words within it. In truth, I had all but forgotten there even was a letter as yet unopened until recently.”

  A tremble began to take root in Jessamine’s midsection and grow until tendrils were pushing through every inch of her being. She had a letter from the prince who loved her mother. It had to be. No one else from the world had any reason to send her a letter via the Shakers. But how would he have known she was at Harmony Hill? Perhaps he had come seeking her at her granny’s cabin and found them gone. The old preacher could have told him where she was. But then why had he not come for her? So many questions without answers. And now there was a letter.

  Sister Sophrena’s voice came to her as if through a long tunnel. “Sister Jessamine, are you all right? You appear faint.” She reached out to clasp Jessamine’s arms. “Take a deep breath and then let it out very slowly. You will be fine.”

  “She overresponds to everything,” Sister Edna said with no charity in her voice.

  “Nay, I have never found that so,” Sister Sophrena said.

  Jessamine pulled in a deep breath as Sister Sophrena ordered. She had felt faint for a moment, but the air filling her lungs made everything come back into focus. Sister Sophrena was still talking. “You can go on to the gardens and begin your assigned duty, Sister Edna.”

  “My duty is Sister Jessamine,” Sister Edna said stoutly. “I was instructed not to leave her alone for any reason.”

  “She will not be alone.” Sister Sophrena turned unsmiling eyes toward Sister Edna. “When we have finished carrying out the orders of the Ministry, I will escort her back to your side.”

  “But—” Sister Edna started to protest again.

  “Your duties in the gardens await, Sister Edna. I’m sure you will be rewarded for your eager diligence to your work.”

  “Yea.” Sister Edna bowed her head in submission to Sister Sophrena’s words. “I will await Sister Jessamine in the gardens.” She looked up at Jessamine. “Do not tarry once you have viewed the letter Sister Sophrena has for you. We have many seeds to plant.”

  It was strange, but instead of tarrying toward the garden as Sister Edna thought she might, Jessamine’s feet were wont to tarry as she followed Sister Sophrena up the steps and back into the Gathering Family House. She could not imagine what words the letter might hold. For years she had wondered about her beginnings, about the prince who loved her mother, but now that she might be minutes from knowing the truth, she felt fearful.

  She had captured stories out of the air with only bits and pieces of the truth and planted them in the rich fertile soil of her imagination. From those seeds, stories had sprouted up that she had twisted and turned as though training a tender tree sapling to grow toward the sun.

  What if the stories she’d treasured through the years, the ones buried in her mind with the solidity of truth, what if those stories had no truth? She pulled in another deep breath. It was foolish to worry about something so unknown. Best to square her shoulders and run toward the truth. Sister Sophrena had often told her one never had reason to fear the truth. But on the other hand she did not deny that the truth could bring one sorrow.

  It was hard to know what Sister Sophrena was thinking now as she led Jessamine into the small room she used as an office. She shut the door behind Jessamine and then stepped behind the small writing desk to study Jessamine without one glance toward the envelope in the middle of the desk. Jessamine, on the other hand, had difficulty looking at anything else.

  19

  Without a word, Sister Sophrena picked up the letter and handed it to Jessamine. The envelope was yellowed with age. Jessamine Brady, Harmony Hill Shaker Village was scrawled across the front in wavering script. The handwriting of an old man.

  The prince who loved her mother wouldn’t be aged. Jessamine held the letter gingerly as if weighing its worth. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t even look inside the envelope. She didn’t have to. The Ministry hadn’t commanded her to read the letter. They were merely allowing her to do so if that was what she wanted. If only she knew what she did want.

  She turned the envelope over in her hand. The flap was torn. It had been opened. But that was to be expected. The Ministry would have read the words inside to be sure they were acceptable. That was their duty. To protect those in the Society from wrongs and temptations whether such sprang to life within their borders or without.

  Sister Sophrena peered across the table at her for a moment before she asked, “Do you fear the words that might be inside?”

  “I don’t know why I hesitate,” Jessamine answered honestly. “But perhaps you are right. Perhaps I do fear the truth that may await me there.”

  “What truth is that, my sister?”

  “The truth of my being.”

  Sister Sophrena frowned a little. “Why would you fear that? It little matters now at any rate since you are part of our community. A person’s real beginning is when she embraces the Shaker way and steps on this path once and for all. Whatever this piece of paper is ready to tell you cannot compare to that moment of being assured of salvation forevermore.”

  The older sister didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand. Jessamine’s granny might have understood if she had still been alive to see Jessamine’s worry. She would have known how Jessamine had built up a fairy-tale story in her mind about the prince who loved her mother. And now all that could come crashing down according to what words awaited her. Words that had obviously been waiting somewhere in the village for years.

  When Jessamine continued to hesitate, Sister Sophrena went on. “You don’t have to read it, Sister Jessamine. I can give it back to the Ministry to dispose of as they deem appropriate.”

  “Nay.” Jessamine’s fingers tightened on the envelope.

  “Then read it so that we can be about our duties.” Sister Sophrena’s voice wasn’t exactly cross, but it did carry the tinge of irritation.

  “Yea.” Jessamine pulled back the envelope flap with fingers that trembled. She suddenly wished she were alone. She loved Sister Sophrena, but some things should be private. What if there was need for tears?

  Inside the first envelope was another envelope. Here the ink hadn’t faded and her name was written with a steady hand and a certain flourish that delighted Jessamine’s eye on sight. Underneath her name was more of the same wavering writing that was on the outside of the envelope.

  This letter was given to me by Jessamine Brady’s great-grandmother, Ida Kendall, with instructions to present it to the child when she reached the age of 12. Since I am in failing health, I have grave doubts I will live long enough to keep my promise, so I am sending it to you to give to her when you see fit. I know not the words it holds.

  Reverend Garfield Jacobs

  Why hadn’t the old preacher given her the letter before he brought her to the Shakers? She would have been near enough to twelve. She stared down at his words and muttered, “I am much past twelve now.”

  “What is that you are saying?” Sister Sophrena asked.

  Jessamine looked up at her. “The writing here indicates I was to be given the letter when I was twelve. I am much past twelve.”

  “Yea, so you are.”

  “Has the letter been here all these years unopened?”

  “Nay, the outer envelope was opened when it was received shortly after you came among us. It was laid aside as you weren’t twelve at that time and then I regret to say, it was quite forgotten.” A flush of guilt crossed Sister Sophrena’s face. “I am at fault there. The Ministry instructed me to keep it in a safe place and so I put it in on
e of my journals. When that journal was filled, I turned it over to those who keep record of all our journals without remembering the letter hidden inside. Out of sight. Out of mind. I have no excuse for my mindlessness.”

  She looked so concerned that Jessamine couldn’t hold any hard feelings toward her. Not against Sister Sophrena who had taken her under her wing and loved her in spite of her many lapses of correct behavior.

  “Perhaps it was as it was meant to be,” Jessamine said. “And not the proper time.”

  Relief lightened Sister Sophrena’s face. “Yea, it could have been providential forgetfulness. You were doing so well and settling in so nicely by the time you were twelve. The letter with words to pull your mind back toward the world might have upset that.”

  “If you think that a possibility, why am I being given the letter now? If it has upsetting words, they will even now be upsetting still.” Jessamine glanced down at her name written in such bold script. The handwriting of the prince who loved her mother. The handwriting of her father.

  “We were honor bound to deliver the letter once it was found and remembered. We delayed, thinking it might be best to wait until you were of the age to sign the Covenant of Belief.”

  “That’s more than a year away.”

  “Yea, a day to look forward to with joy, my sister, and not so long from now. A year passes quickly.” Sister Sophrena hesitated as if waiting for Jessamine to say something. When she did not, the older sister looked suddenly very solemn as she went on. “If you feel you are ready. No one is forced to sign the Covenant. It has to be a decision of free will and loving commitment.”

  “Yea,” Jessamine said. “So you have often told me.”

  “It is good to remember what you are told, but better to know what you believe.” Sister Sophrena studied her a moment before she let out a small sigh. “I have noted a warring spirit within you in the last few days.”