Christmas at Harmony Hill by Ann H. Gabhart Page A

believe, Sister Sophrena?” Heather asked.
    “I have doubts that everyone in the world will ever seek the Shaker way of perfect devotion. So I think there will always be babies and children in need of a home. The Believers stand ready to supply that home with hope some of those children might embrace the Shaker way.”
    “As you have,” Heather said.
    “As I have.” Sophrena did not meet Heather’s eyes as she lifted the hem of her apron to dash away the remnants of her tears. “I was not a child when I came to Harmony Hill, but I was in need of the good love the sisters and brothers here offered to me so freely.”
    “Did you not have a happy marriage?”
    “Nay.” The word was spoken abruptly. “There is much unhappiness in the world.”
    “So are you happy now?” Heather spoke the question, even though she could tell Sophrena was anxious to be shed of the talk of marriage and happiness.
    “It is a place of peace and love,” Sophrena said. “Not the love of the world, but the love of God. Here, we give our hearts to God.”
    “I love the Lord, but I don’t think he puts limits on love here on earth. Love is part of his design.”
    “Yea, your thoughts of love are worldly ones. Harmony Hill is different and you may understand our ways better after living among us.”
    “I won’t give up my child,” Heather said.
    “Worry not, my young sister. That would not even be possible for you right now. You are the vessel of life for your baby. Wait to worry about tomorrow when the day comes.” Sophrena kept her voice soft and calm. “I will go gather up some necessary supplies and give you the privacy of your bath. Brother Kenton will be here before the evening meal to determine if all is well with you.”
    “If he is a Shaker, can he know anything about birthing babies?”
    “He was a doctor before he came to the Shakers. So I am confident he has helped babies come into the world.”
    Sophrena turned away from Heather to busily poke at the fire before adding a chunk of wood. She brushed her hands off on her apron as she straightened back up, keeping her eyes from Heather’s face. It was clear she was uncomfortable talking about the birth.
    “Mother never had anyone with her except a neighbor ladywho helped birth babies. I’m sure I’ll be fine with your help, Sister Sophrena.”
    But would she? She had to wonder about that as Sophrena grabbed up Heather’s soiled dress and hurried out without a backward glance. Perhaps Heather was asking too much of a woman who had lived away from the normal ways of families for so long. Heather stared at the door Sophrena had firmly pushed shut behind her. How could these people believe that babies weren’t a gift from God? Was not the Christ the greatest gift ever? A baby born and placed in a manger.
    Heather let out a long breath. She was here and here she would stay. At least until the baby came. She had little choice unless the war ended before then and Gideon returned for her. That wasn’t likely no matter how many prayers she sent up for peace. She shut her eyes and remembered the last embrace they’d shared before he marched away from her. She would see him again. She would. Please, Lord, she would.

13

    G ideon’s division made the last part of the trip to Nashville by boat down the Cumberland River. Gideon worked his way out to a spot close to the rail on the crowded decks where he could see the water flowing past them. He aimed to be where he could jump into the river if the Confederates surprised them with a cannonball to the broadsides. It didn’t matter that he’d never been that good of a swimmer. His swimming would be better than his sinking with the boat.
    Jake White laughed at him. “You won’t get a chance to swim. You’re right out here where the sharpshooters can pick you off.”
    “No Rebel can shoot that good.” Gideon looked toward the riverbank. It wasn’t actually all that far away. And some of the Rebels were fair shots when they