The Gifted by Ann H. Gabhart Page A

her father has money in order to make a favorable match.”
    “You make it sound so, so . . .” Jessamine couldn’t come up with the right word.
    “Common?” Sister Abigail looked over at Jessamine with her eyebrows lifted. “It is common. Men and women marry. Some for love as you want to imagine in your storybook romances. Some for convenience. Some for family standing. Some for a lark.”
    “Not here in Harmony Hill. Here we walk a purer path. A path without sin.”
    Sister Abigail laughed. “All paths have pebbles of sin that rise up to trip a person. Especially when the pebble is more like a stone dropped into your lap, Sister Jessamine.” Again she lifted her eyebrows at Jessamine, but this time with a grin that Jessamine had come to recognize meant she was going to say something she knew to be outside the Shaker way. “I hear you sat in the unknown man’s lap on your way back to the village from the woods. And how did that make you feel with him being so handsome and all?”
    “I confessed my sinful feelings to Sister Sophrena,” Jessamine said.
    “It is not a sin to think a man is good-looking in the world.”
    “We are not in the world.”
    “But don’t you desire to see him again?” Sister Abigail didn’t wait for Jessamine to answer. “I saw him in the doctor’s garden early this morning as I hastened to the privy before the morning meal. He looked very pale, but it is true that he is quite handsome.”
    “Outside so early in the morn?” Jessamine didn’t know whether to be glad the man was well enough to be in the garden or worried that he might be so well he’d be leaving before she caught sight of him again.
    “He was. Perhaps at doctor’s orders. I’ve heard some believe the sun can be a powerful healer. The same as some believe the water from the springs rising out of the ground at White Oak Springs has healing powers.” Sister Abigail turned back to her roses.
    And just in time. Sister Edna was stalking up the row toward them.
    “Dear sisters,” she said in a tone that negated every bit of the meaning of the word dear. “It is a dereliction of our duty to do naught but flap our lips. We are here to pick the rose petals.” She frowned over at the bare layer of petals in the bottom of Sister Abigail’s basket. “This is not a difficult task, Sister Abigail, if one keeps her mind on what she is to do, but it appears you are allowing Sister Jessamine to pick all the roses while you are content to stand and talk.”
    “She is only just learning the Shaker ways.” Jessamine spoke up as she kept her eyes on the red petals filling her own basket. She should have dropped some of her petals into the younger sister’s basket.
    “Excuses are of the devil,” Sister Edna said. “And the devil has no welcome in our rose gardens. It would be best if Sister Abigail goes to pick roses with Sister Annie for the remainder of our duty here.”
    “Yea,” Sister Jessamine said meekly with hopes that Sister Abigail would also lower her head and respond with meekness.
    “Yea, Sister Edna, if you think that best,” Sister Abigail said. “But we were only speaking of the good benefits of sunshine. That is surely what brings the abundant blooms here, is it not? And it can also cause the blooming of love in our hearts.” The girl smiled winsomely at the older woman and went on quickly. “Sisterly love, of course.”
    Sister Edna’s eyes narrowed on Sister Abigail as she seemed to be searching for fault in the girl’s words. At last she said, “A glib tongue is not the best tongue. Silence is much to be desired, Sister Abigail, and a gift you should prayerfully seek.” She turned her eyes on Jessamine. “And you too, Sister Jessamine. It is a danger to one’s soul to lead a young sister astray.”
    “To do so would bring me sorrow,” Jessamine said. “I will mend my ways and pray for more wisdom in my conduct.”
    Sister Edna’s face didn’t soften even though she spoke words of