Read Online The Outsider by Ann H. Gabhart - Free Book Online

of his mind as he rode out of the village. It was no concern of his if she wanted to give her life to the Shakers. While he might not go along with their way of life, they had the right to live as they wished. What harm could there be in wanting to live in peace and harmony with one another as brothers and sisters? Not that he thought they’d be able to shut away the evils and injuries of the world simply by building their community behind stone fences. Peace didn’t come just because one wished for it, and saying “brother” and “sister” didn’t always shut out certain feelings of the heart. The boy was proof enough of that.
    Brice frowned and kicked his horse into a slow gallop. He was glad to leave them behind. Ever since Jemma had died, he’d shunned any kind of emotional involvement with people. He was willing to treat their physical pains. That was all. He had enough worries of his own without borrowing theirs. Yet as he rode through the woods to his cabin, the pure innocence of the young sister’s blue eyes stayed with him.
    He hadn’t built his cabin in town. Brice needed trees around him, not houses. If people wanted his doctoring, they knew where to find him. And they did. In spite of the stories they told on him, they kept coming after him when a loved one was sick.
    He slowed his horse as he came in sight of his cabin. Smoke was rising out of the chimney and a strange man stood on the porch waiting for him.
    “Dr. Scott?” the man said as Brice dismounted. When Brice nodded, the stranger held out his hand. “Alec Hope.”
    Brice looked the man over carefully before he took his hand. Alec Hope was small but sturdily built, although age was beginning to gnaw at the edges of his strength. His leather britches were worn bare in spots, and the deep lines on his face told the hardness of the life he’d lived. An old scar from what looked to be a knife wound ran down the side of one of his cheeks. If the man had come for doctoring, there wouldn’t be much chance of him paying. Then as Brice kept looking at him, something about the man’s eyes looked familiar, as though they’d met before.
    Brice shook his hand. “Do I know you?”
    “Could be,” the man said. “I used to be around these parts some years ago.”
    “What brings you out to my cabin, Mr. Hope?”
    “I got a problem, Doc, and I’m hoping you can help me with it.”
    Brice pulled the saddle off his horse and turned him into the small corral beside the cabin. “If it’s doctoring you need, I’ll do my best. Come on inside.”
    Hope followed him into the cabin. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I built a fire and brewed some of your coffee while I was waiting for you.”
    “Not at all. Smells good,” Brice said as he poured them both a cup. He sat down across the table from the man and waited. He’d learned not to rush his backwoods patients. They often had a hard time coming out with their ailments. He kept his eyes on the man’s face and tried to remember where they’d met.
    The man moved uneasily in his chair. Finally he said, “It ain’t exactly a healing problem I got, Doc.”
    “Then I don’t suppose I can help you, Hope. Maybe what you need is a preacher. I can direct you to the house of a good man not too far away.”
    Hope shook his head. “I don’t reckon a preacher would help me none. Preachers is part of my problem. If you’ll just hear me out, Doc, I’d be obliged.”
    “All right.” Brice took a drink of his coffee and waited. “
    They tell me in town that you been out among them they call Shakers.”
    “I’ve been caring for a boy out there for a few days.”
    “What kind of people are they?” The man’s eyes sharpened on Brice as he waited for his answer.
    “Good enough people. Different from most, but they seem content with their ways.”
    “I hear tell they dance and carry on. Some say they even have fits where they roll around on the floor. And they call it worshiping.”
    “I wouldn’t