The Loom by Shella Gillus

Author:Shella Gillus [Gillus, Shella]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: The Loom: A Novel
ISBN: 9780824948160
Publisher: BookMasters
Published: 2011-11-30T15:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

Odessa wailed at Abram’s feet.

An early winter chill whipped through the hills of the Kelly plantation and in and out of the bodies of owners and slaves alike. Days later, it settled deep in the chest of her love.

She couldn’t lose him. Not now. Lord Jesus, not ever.

She was supposed to go first. Fall in his arms and rise in the arms of Jesus. That was the way it was supposed to be, the way it had to be because he was the strong one. The rock. Her strength. She needed him. God knew she needed him. Had never made a step without him.

“Please, Lord.”

She draped herself over him, pressed her cheek against his chest, his hot, damp chest, rising and falling, higher, drawing his stomach tighter, lower until his ribs poked through the rags of thin cotton. She closed her eyes, listened to the rattling of sleep coming from blankets across from her, the wheezing of death beneath her. Ruth and Lou had stayed up until bloodshot eyes begged to close, but she had no choice. She had to fight. She kissed the scar in the middle of his palm, leaned in, pressed harder, whispered into his pores, spoke to him. Spoke through him. Her face lifted with his every breath, dropped with each exhale. Together they battled. His body, her prayers. One spirit fighting to live.

It wasn’t the first time.

Decades before when she, Abram, and Ruth were on the Whitfield plantation, it was she who needed saving.

“I got you just where I want you, girl.” Young master, their owner’s son, stepped toward her.

Odessa squirmed in the corner of the dim work shed where she had been waiting for Abram, her love. He had promised to meet her there each day for a week, but every evening she had waited in vain.

She tugged on the folds of her dingy dress, stretched it past her ankles, sweeping it against the floor, but it still wasn’t enough. Lustful eyes looked past it, saw through it. She needed a real covering.

Lord, help me.

Master Tim made his way through all the slave girls, ones she had brought into the world with her own hands, and now he wanted women, even ones old enough to be his mother. She had prayed she’d never see the day but it had arrived, streaking in as a harsh ray of light across her enemy’s face. He was close enough for her to see him well. Every detail. Four beads of sweat, clinging to his upper lip, ran together when he grinned.

He stepped forward into the shadows.

Please, God.

“I’ve been waiting for this a long time. I’ve been watching you.”

Another step closer.

Jesus, You there?

“Now I’m a see if you been worth the wait.” His fingers trembled when he reached for her. She screamed for Abram and shrank away from his hands, from those nails. They were the shortest nails she’d ever seen, rimmed in dirt or blood, bit so deep the tips looked longer than normal. The ugliest hands she’d ever seen.

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