Go Tell the Bees that I Am Gone (Outlander, #9)

by Diana Gabaldon

I know thee must feel seriously outnumbered every First Day.” He’d smiled at that, and it made her heart glad to see it. He was so often troubled these days, and no wonder. “Nay, lass, God and I get on well enough by ourselves. It’s only that when I come to your meeting, sometimes it reminds me of a thing Catholics do now and then. It’s no a formal thing—but a body will go and sit for an hour before the Sacrament, in church. I’d do it now and then when I was a young man, in Paris. We call it Adoration.” “What does thee do during that hour?” she’d asked, curious. “Nothing in particular. Pray, for the most part. Say the Rosary. Or sit in silence. Read, maybe, the Bible or the writings of some saint. I’ve seen folk sing, sometimes. I remember once, goin’ into the chapel of Saint Joseph in the wee hours of the morning, long before dawn—almost all the candles were burnt out—and hearin’ someone playing a guitar, singing. Very soft, not playing to be heard, ken. Just…singing before God.” Something odd moved in his eyes at the recollection, but then he smiled at her again, a rueful smile. “I think that may be the last music I remember really hearing.” “What?” He touched the back of his head, briefly. “I was struck in the heid wi’ an ax, many years gone. I lived, but I never heard music again. The pipes, fiddles, singin’…I ken it’s music, but to me, it’s nay more than noise. But that song…I dinna recall the song itself, but I know how I felt when I heard it.” She’d never before see...

The bond Jamie and Rachel have is lovely, one of my favorite aspects of having her introduced to the plot.