by Amy Sorrells
“My granddaddy gave me that sword. Belonged to his granddaddy, Gabriel Harlan, from before the war.” Vaughn picked up the case, the name Harlan inscribed deep into the worn, cracked leather. “I intended to wait until later, but I might as well give it to you now.”
Surprise spread across Daddy’s face, ruddy from all the days working outside in the orchards, but softened by the kindness in his eyes, which were heavy with the love I saw when he read to me each night, even still, before bedtime. “I always thought this belonged to Cole next.”
Vaughn stood up and peered out the window overlooking the orchards. “Granddaddy helped Gabriel plant most of these. Helped him plant the trees, babying them until they pulled in a crop. While they waited for the trees to yield enough to live off of, Gabriel oystered and fished and worked for lumber companies, making an honest living and providing for everyone—including the freed slaves—who lived on this land. One of only a few abolitionists back then, he paid his black workers a fair wage, sometimes choosing them over white workers who needed a job, and at the expense of ridicule and putting his family in danger. He retired from the Confederate Army before the war, so he never fought in it. Granddaddy told stories about how Gabriel wouldn’t have fought in that war if he’d died refusing, because he hated slavery so.” He turned to face Daddy. “He stood up for what was right and for the weak. Raised me to do the same. And that’s how I believe I’ve raised you.”
“Daddy—”
Vaughn held his hand up, and to my surprise, a tear rolled down the side of his face as he kept talking. “Been thinking a lot about this family lately, how I done you and your sister, Comfort, a disservice over the years by feeling sorry for Cole. Listening to your mother when she said I was too harsh with him, when harsh was what he needed. I felt sorry for him, I suppose, not having his real daddy around. I never listened to you or your sister, or anyone for that matter, who voiced concern about his choices and actions. And now I see those actions have taken a toll on all of you, and I’m sorry for that. I brought him in and raised him as my own—and I would do it again—but you and Comfort . . . You’re my flesh and blood.”
He took the sword from Daddy’s hands and slid it into the leather case. “When my daddy gave Gabriel’s sword to me, he said it stood for peace, not war. That it should be given to the firstborn son, a son raised to believe in freedom. Someone who will fight injustice with courage and truth.”
Quiet fell over the room, except for the ticktock of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
“Take it, Son. Will you?”
“What’s going on in here?” Princella’s unexpected voice struck us like a whip across our bare backs. “What are you doing, Vaughn? That’s Cole’s sword.”
Vaughn walked right up close to Princella until he stood about an inch from her face. “Something I shoulda done a long time ago.”
“Hey, everybody!”
My aunt, Comfort, and her longtime boyfriend, Solly, burst through the study door, giggling like a couple of kids my age. But their faces fell when they saw Princella and Vaughn standing there in obvious disagreement.
“I’m—I’m sorry. Were we interrupting?”
Princella turned sharp and stomped out of the room.
“Sorry, Solly. You’re fine,” Vaughn said. “Please come in.”
“Welcome to the festivities,” Daddy simpered.
“Comfort!” I ran and hugged her despite the tension I felt in the air.
“Hey, darlin’,” Comfort said in a tempered voice, hugging me back. Despite my affection for T-shirts, boy shorts, and flip-flops, her outfit, as usual, was to die for. Beneath a striped, fringed poncho, she wore flared white trousers, a bright-orange halter top, and orange plastic platform shoes that matched. Her hair was done up in a high bun tied with a matching orange-and-white scarf that trailed down her back.
“What about me? Don’t I get a hug from my girl?” Solly, a burly fellow with curly dark hair that fell over his ears and glasses, caught Daddy’s eye as he yanked me into a bear hug. He looked handsome as ever, dressed in what appeared to be a brand-new pair of jeans, a plaid button-down Western shirt, a black cowboy hat, and black boots.
Thank goodness they came when they did. If Princella wanted to be in a snit, fine. But with Comfort and Solly there to brighten the mood, maybe she wouldn’t ruin the whole of Thanksgiving Day.
Discussion Questions
Discuss the significance of Sudie’s green soda bottles. Do you have any tangible traditions like this to honor people you have loved who are no longer with you? Would you like to start one?
Even though Jaycee’s mother is unable to be a mothering presence in her life at the time of this story, Jaycee does have mother figures in Sudie and Carla. How are they able to minister to her in ways her own mother can’t? Have there been people in your life who filled a parental role in addition to what your own parents were able to do? Have you been able to fill that role for children or young people you know?
Sudie mentors Jaycee in the skills of wildlife rehabilitation. Was there anything about this element of the story that you found especially interesting? In what ways is Sudie’s care for wounded animals similar to God’s care for wounded people?
Heroin use is epidemic in Riverton, as in much of America. What did that element add to the story? Has heroin—or other substance abuse—affected anyone you know?
Gabe tells Jaycee, “Everybody’s complicated.” Why is it helpful to remember this? Why do we tend to think our own challenges are more than others can understand?
Gabe proves to be a true friend to Jaycee, but she is cautious about letting him any closer at first. Do you think she is right to keep him at a safe distance for a while? What do you see happening in their relationship in the future?
Early in the book, Jaycee’s pastor asks, “What is the Lord asking you to give up today?” What are the specific ways in which this impacts Jaycee’s life as the story unfolds? Is there something—tangible or intangible—that the Lord is asking you to give up today? What’s holding you back?
Did you see Bryan as a villain or as a victim of his own difficult circumstances—or some of each? How do you picture his future?
How does Jaycee’s relationship with her baby brother, and the circumstances of his death, impact her decision about whether to keep her baby?
Jaycee hears and thinks about several Bible stories throughout the book, such as the infant Moses being set afloat in the Nile (Exodus 2:1-10), Daniel in the lions’ den (Daniel 6), and the woman at the well (John 4:1-42). How do these biblical examples help her with the struggles she faces? Can you think of a time when the Bible helped you in a practical way like this? What specific passages have been meaningful to you?
Were you surprised when Jaycee decided to give up the baby for adoption? What did you expect her to decide?
Has adoption touched your life or the life of someone you know? What are the challenges that face everyone involved in an adoption? What are some of the blessings that can come out of it?
About the Author
AMY K. SORRELLS is an award-winning author whose diverse writing has appeared in medical journals, newspapers, and an anthology (Indy Writes Books) benefiting literacy in central Indiana. A lifelong Hoosier and registered nurse, Amy makes her home on the outskirts of town with her husband and three sons. Before I Saw You is her fourth novel. Connect with Amy at www.amyksorrells.com.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Karen Watson, Jan Stob, and Kathy Olson, for not giving up on this story when you had every reason to. To Don Pape, the best cheerleader a writer could ever have. To Sarah Freese—someone please give this woman an honorary counseling degree. And to Sharon Leavitt and my dear friends who have prayed for me and this book—you kept me writing when all I wanted to do was curl up and give up.
To Anita Akins for all the help with my research on being a cemetery caretaker (and for the hilarious stories). And to Holly Carter for all your time, amazing stories, an
d expertise on wildlife rehabilitation.
To Scott, Tucker, Charlie, and Isaac, for putting up with me throughout this process and in general—I could never find enough words to express how much I love you. And above all, to my Lord and Savior. Any good in this story is because he chose to do Ephesians 3:20 things with broken old me.
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