Gabriel's Gift

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Gabriel's Gift Page 6

by Susan M. Baganz


  He finished his light meal. After opening the drapes to let in the winter sun, he settled at his desk with his Bible to prepare for Christmas Eve and Day services. Thoughts of how alone he would be when he was finished taunted him from the corner of his mind. Shoving them aside he immersed himself—as much a way to escape as to accomplish the task at hand.

  After a short luncheon, Gabriel wrapped small gifts to present to his servants on St. Stephen’s Day, or whenever they returned from their family visits. His housekeeper would at least return by that date, but not his cook. His horse at least lived in a nearby stable and was cared for there for a small fee.

  Once the wrapping was complete, he grabbed his gloves, greatcoat and hat and set out for the Clark residence. He’d not seen little Bennett for over a week now.

  “Mr. Morgan. We’ve missed seeing you. I pray you are well?” Mrs. Clark asked. “Mr. Clark is out working, but come in. Shall I make some tea?” She took his coat and hat and hung them by the door.

  “I am well enough, thank you. Don’t trouble yourself with tea. I stopped in to visit Bennett. I missed seeing the babe.”

  She led him to the front room where the infants rested in their bassinettes. Gabriel scooped the little man into his arms and settled into a chair. “Well met, Bennett.” He could have sworn the baby grinned at him. Mrs. Clark hovered nearby.

  “Well, I’ll be. He smiled at you, Mr. Morgan. That’s the first time I’ve seen that. My little girl only just started smiling for her father.”

  “Perhaps he needs to be burped?” Gabriel asked.

  “If it were gas he’d be crying.” She settled into a chair across from him. “He missed seeing you and Miss Wilcox.”

  “Miss Wilcox was ill, and I remained away lest I too had become sick after visiting her. I did not want these precious children to come down with her illness.” He glanced up to Mrs. Clark to find her with a tear in her eye. “Are you well?” he asked.

  She shrugged and wiped away the tear. “You and Miss Wilcox would be wonderful parents to little Bennett.”

  He frowned. “I’m in no position at present to care for a child.”

  “Not as an individual, but as a couple,” she riposted.

  “An unlikely scenario.”

  “Your desire for her has not escaped anyone’s notice.”

  He ignored her and looked down at the sleeping child in his arms. “Will you be attending the service on the eve of Christmas?”

  She nodded. “’Tis time to venture forth.”

  “Good.” The babe had fallen asleep in his arms so he placed the child back in his bassinet. “I have more work to do in preparation for this week.”

  She nodded and rose to see him out the door. After donning his hat and coat and finding gloves, putting them on he gave the young mother a smile and stepped into the brisk wind to head for his empty house.

  

  Monday morning, Matilda’s mother worked with her on holiday decorations for the house. They found some in the attic from years past and servants were sent to look for fresh holly and ivy. Ribbons were cut and tied. In the afternoon, they wrapped gifts for St. Stephen’s Day.

  Tilly agonized over a Christmas gift for Gabriel, but soon came upon the right one.

  Two days until the eve of Christmas. She’d get to listen to Gabriel preach again. Had he recovered?

  

  Tuesday morning was a repeat of the day before. Gabriel awoke with a heaviness on his heart that was foreign to him. Was this how hope deferred felt? Proverbs 13:12 sprung to mind: Hope deferred maketh the heart sick: but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life.

  Hope and desire.

  He rushed to dress and headed to his study and began to write.

  A knock at the door brought him out of his intense work. He rose and answered it to find Lord Hennison there. “My lord, come in out of the cold. What brings you to my home?”

  “May we converse?”

  “Certainly.” Gabriel took the older man’s coat and hat and hung them by the door.

  “No servants?”

  “They too deserve a holiday to celebrate with their families. They have leave to do so this week.”

  “You are all alone here? Who cooks your meals?”

  Gabriel’s stomach growled. He glanced down as heat rose in his cheeks. “I do, but in my haste this morning I overlooked breakfast. If you do not mind my humble kitchen, we can go there, and I can prepare us some tea.”

  “And get yourself fed, son. I’ll follow you.”

  The minister led his patron down the hallway to the back of the house where the kitchen was. Gabriel started a fire and set about to heating water. Had Cook left him any of those small cakes? He found some in the pantry and brought them out on a platter to present to his guest who sat on a bench at a worn, wooden table.

  “When I was a young boy, I often came here to visit the preacher, and I sat at this very table.”

  “He also lacked servants?”

  “He had a generous heart, much like you do, Gabriel.”

  Soon Gabriel poured tea and sat across from Lord Hennison. “He must have made a good impression on you.”

  “He did. How do you really fare, Mr. Morgan?”

  Gabriel sipped his tea slowly, closing his eyes to savor the warmth. “I’m as well as you can see.”

  The older man nodded, “I wanted to thank you again for your care of my granddaughter this week past. The doctor said she may not have survived without your constant attention.”

  “I could do no less.”

  “You love her and you put hands and feet to that.”

  “It matters not. She cannot bring herself to love me.”

  “I could force the matter. You in her room—”

  “Always with a chaperone, a maid, present.”

  “I’m trying to help you, Gabriel.”

  “I do not relish an unwilling bride, my lord.”

  “I wish—”

  “Wishes are for children. We are men. God doesn’t always give us what we ask for.”

  “Have you given up?”

  Gabriel shrugged. “I won’t pursue her, my lord. She does not desire my companionship much less my courtship.”

  “How’d you arrive at that conclusion?”

  “We had a conversation…and she ran from me.”

  “Her heart yet grieves.”

  “As it should. There is no room there for love beyond those closest to her.”

  “She is different since her illness.”

  “How so?”

  “I can’t explain it. Only… Thank you for tea, Mr. Morgan. Will you join us for a repast on Christmas Day?”

  Gabriel paused, uncertain. Why attend if he wasn’t courting? Could he go and simply be the local clergyman and nothing more when Tilly was present? “I do not want to intrude on a family gathering.”

  “Not much of a gathering when it is only Tilly and me. I can at least promise you a blazing Yule log and a decent meal.”

  “I’d be a fool to decline such an invitation.”

  “Good. We will see you then.” The older man rose and Gabriel stood, walking him to the front door and handing him his coat and gloves.

  “Thank you for visiting, my lord.”

  “The honor was all mine, Mr. Morgan. You rekindled fond memories, and I’m gratified to see you are well.” Donning his hat, the older man departed the cottage and, with the help of a servant, entered his carriage.

  Gabriel closed the door with a sigh before heading back into his study to continue his labors.

  

  By Tuesday, Matilda had regained more strength, and after pleading with her grandfather, she found herself in a carriage bound for the Clark home. Entering, she hung up her coat.

  “Ah, Miss Wilcox,” Mrs. Clark said as she picked up her daughter. “What a pleasure to see you up and about. I heard you were quite ill, and little Bennett missed his visits with you and Mr. Morgan.”

  Till
y squinted, even as she bent to pick up the infant boy. “Mr. Morgan did not come by last week?”

  “But of course not. He had been with you and did not want to pass along any illness to the children.”

  “Been with me?”

  “The entire village is aware he spent the past week at the Hennison estate. How he managed to preach on Sunday, I do not know, but Mr. Clark told me the man looked as though he’d burnt the candle at both ends.”

  “I was quite ill and do not remember seeing him at the house. I was abed.”

  “’Tis no matter. A man in love will do many things for his beloved.”

  “Do babies smile this early?” Changing the subject, Matilda peered down at the infant, who gave her a gummy grin.

  “Not usually but little Bennett gave a similar smile to Mr. Morgan only yesterday.”

  “Good day, Bennett. Did you miss me?”

  The baby looked as though her were about to talk. She could only imagine how sweet it would be to have a child in her arms like this every day.

  “Have you fully recovered, miss? You still appear pale.”

  “I’m weak, but well. Grandfather insisted I take the carriage until I regain my strength.”

  “A young woman should not be walking around on her own. Pardon me for sayin’ it.”

  “You are correct. Yet, is it fair that a maid be forced to walk with me? Even should she be paid, what can she do to protect me from harm?”

  “I never considered that,” Mrs. Clark said.

  Bennett drifted to sleep. Matilda wished she could sit and hold him longer, but her energy quickly evaporated. She settled the infant back in his little bed. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to return, with the holidays upon us.”

  “You will be celebrating then?”

  “I hope to. It was not part of my original plan, but it’s as though I have a new life ahead of me and I want to enjoy these moments with my grandfather while I have them.”

  A soft smile crept over Mrs. Clark’s face. “And a certain young gentleman?”

  “There are several in this area. Did you have someone in mind?”

  Mrs. Clark placed her daughter in her bed and went to help Tilly with her cloak. “You know of whom I speak, miss.”

  “May you have a peaceful Christmas, Mrs. Clark. I believe my footman has left a package at your back door. You may want what is in it.”

  Tilly left and a footman assisted her into the carriage.

  As Tilly settled against the squabs thoughts tumbled in her mind about Gabriel. He was at her grandfather’s home all of last week whilst she was ill? What did he do during that time? Had he visited her and spoke tender words to her as she had dreamed? What if it had really happened?

  No. Grandfather would never allow an eligible bachelor, even a pastor, into her room as she struggled, insensible, with her illness. Would he?

  Her eyes grew wide. That’s exactly what her grandfather would do. All those dreams she thought she’d had? Heat rose in her cheeks at what she might have said to Gabriel.

  Arriving home, she found the doctor there to check in on her. She submitted to his scrutiny of her breathing.

  “I’ll be honest, Miss Wilcox. I was skeptical about your recovery but Mr. Morgan would not listen, and for once I am grateful that someone did not follow my advice. If he ever decides to give up preaching, the man might make a great physician. His care for you ran counter to much of what I suggested and yet, here you are, hale and whole. Your strength will return in time. While I wish I could take credit for the outcome, I will humbly acknowledge that obviously someone knew better than I in this instance.”

  The doctor left and Tilly paced in her room. Gabriel not only was here, but also had nursed her back to health? Why would he risk his own health to do that?

  Something had happened even as she slept with fevered nightmares. She realized the truth from which she’d been hiding. She loved Gabriel and always had. Why would she spurn him because of her father’s poor choices? Gabriel did not hold them against her nor did anyone else. She’d been trapped in a prison of shame, but if Gabriel’s prayers and tender care were the key, that prison door had been opened, and she was free. Free to live. Free to love.

  But after how she had treated him and held him away from her desperate heart, would he pursue her again? Or had she lost her one opportunity for love?

  7

  Gabriel had spent his day in fasting and prayer as he waited for the service at the church. He would not see whether Matilda had decorated. He sought to put her out of his mind and focus on hearing what God would have him share. Heaviness weighed him down over the importance of this event in history. He shaved a second time before walking to the church for the evening service.

  At the front door, he spied Mr. and Mrs. Clark present with both babies. Relief washed over him.

  Mattie sat in the front with her grandfather and with another woman whom he assumed was her mother. Had the older woman risen from her bed to embrace new life? Her pale appearance and thin face as she dressed in grey added to his suspicion. The weight of his message grew heavier.

  He began the service, and as time came to give his message he approached to the Clarks. “May I borrow Bennett for a little while?”

  Mr. Clark nodded and handed the infant over.

  Gabriel strode slowly to the front of the church holding the baby in the crook of his arm. Little Bennett grinned up at him.

  “Friends and neighbors. Imagine what it was like. For hundreds of years God had not spoken to the Israelites. No prophets had recorded words, and they were under the thumb of Rome. Not quite as oppressed as they were while in Egypt, but still looking for deliverance. Every young Jewish mother prayed that she would be the one chosen to give birth to the Messiah.

  “Yet God chose a woman who had yet to be wed. Why? Because He wanted there to be no dispute as to the paternity of this child. And He also proved that He had come for everyone, even when, by human appearances, they didn’t obey the law.

  “I can only imagine Joseph’s heartbreak at finding Mary was with child. This was the woman he had pledged to marry. He’d been preparing a home for them. An unexpected twist in his life. But he was a noble man and would set aside his heart’s desire and let her go.

  “Until an angel appeared and gave him different instructions. God depended upon Joseph’s good character, depth of faith, and love of Mary. Any other Jewish man would have followed the letter of the law and had her stoned to death. Instead, Joseph took her as his wife.

  “Christmas is a season of hope and desire. Yet hopes continually were dashed. For four-hundred years the Messiah hadn’t come. Mary, while obedient in trusting God, faced the whispers of her neighbors and the doubts of the man she loved. Joseph probably endured insults, and then, the long journey. Finally, it was time.

  “A baby was born. Joseph, scared and alone with his new wife, was there. It was messy. It wasn’t comfortable. And they held a secret that few knew. This little child they now held in their hands and wrapped so humbly…would save the Israelites.

  “I mentioned it was a season of desire as well. Joseph desired to take Mary as his wife and provide a normal life for her, but had to flee to another city. Mary had to leave her family and future in Nazareth. The place Joseph had been preparing for her. Then their new life together in Bethlehem was forfeit as they were forced into Egypt around two years following Jesus’ birth.

  “Shepherds desiring rest were terrified by angels singing of God’s glory and peace. Who didn’t desire peace?

  “And God in human form. A tiny child at the center of it all. The very Scriptures that proclaim and foretell his birth also foretold his death. The people surrounding the infant Immanuel, desired a political, and national, Savior. Instead they got One who came to set hearts free from the bondage of sin and death.

  “A baby, similar to this little one I hold in my arms now.

  “The innocence of new life would take on the filth of our sin and wash it clea
n with his blood. Blood was spilt at his birth and again at his death. Yet just as he was born into this world through water and blood—he was killed in water and blood, only to rise again.

  “A baby. The hope and desire of the world came not only to save the Israelite nation, but extended that gift of grace to us all.

  “That is what we honor on this most holy day.”

  Bennett belched and the crowd stifled their giggles. Gabriel smiled down at the child who grinned back at him.

  “As you leave and prepare to come tomorrow…think about your own hopes and desires and how God might be using Himself, even the time of waiting for Him to act, to draw You to Him and the peace He alone can offer.”

  Gabriel led the congregation in a song and dismissed them into the darkening night. He walked to the back of the church. Kissing Bennett’s forehead, he handed the infant to Mr. Clark.

  When Lord Hennison arrived at the end of the line of people, he motioned to the woman beside him. “Mr. Morgan, I’m not sure if you remember my daughter, Mrs. Wilcox.”

  Mr. Morgan gave her a bow of his head. “Mrs. Wilcox. I am delighted to see you here. You have been in my prayers.”

  A wan smile appeared, and her cheeks shimmered with a pale pink. “You are Gabriel, the little scamp who led my daughter into so many scrapes—and then rescued her from them all. My how you have grown up. Thank you for tonight’s message.”

  “My pleasure, Mrs. Wilcox.”

  Mattie approached. The last person to leave the church. She’d abandoned her silly cap. Lord Hennison escorted his daughter down the stairs to the coach.

  “Miss Wilcox. You seem to have recovered well from your illness. I’m pleased to see that.”

  “I have the Lord and you to thank for the fact that I recovered at all.”

  “Me? I did nothing.”

  “Au contraire, my friend. Isn’t it a sin to lie, especially in church?” The corner of her lip twitched as his gaze locked with hers.

 

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