Though My Heart Is Torn: The Cadence of Grace, Book 2 (13 page)

Her chest heaved. The path curved through the grove, and the familiar shape of her aunt Sarah’s cabin stood out in the distance. A tangle of crooked aspens shaded the porch, where her aunt sat.

Sarah stood and shielded her eyes. “Well, I’ll be.” She hurried down the porch and in an instant surrounded Lonnie in a rosemary-scented embrace. “You’ve come home to me.”

Lonnie nodded furiously. “So it seems.” Her vision blurred. The softness of her aunt’s shoulder made her feel like she was six years old again and the troubles of mind could be eased by a kiss and a cup of tea.

Pulling back, Sarah studied her.

There was no way to muster a smile.

“What’s happened?” Her eyes searched Lonnie’s face. “Where’s Gideon?”

Lonnie pressed her palms to her eyes, forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths. “At my pa’s.” Despite her efforts, Lonnie’s chin trembled.

Sarah’s grip on her shoulders tightened. “What has happened?” She wrapped an arm around Lonnie, gently urging her up the steps and into the cabin. She sat Lonnie at the table and shoved a pile of yellowed papers onto an empty seat before sinking by her side. She took her hand, engulfing it in warmth and worry.

“It’s over.”

“Over?”

“I never should have married him.”

Sarah’s grip tightened. “
You
didn’t have a choice.” She scooted closer, hovering on the edge of her seat. “Lonnie, tell me what’s happened.”

“He was already married.”

“What?”

“To Cassie. Henry Allan’s daughter.”

Sarah’s jaw went slack. She blinked once, then again.

Lonnie glanced away, unable to bear her aunt’s shock. Fearing she would see disgrace in her sky-blue eyes.

“Oh, my girl,” Sarah breathed. She wrapped her arms around Lonnie, holding her close.

When the burning in Lonnie’s throat became too much to bear, she gave in to the sobs. As they racked her body, Sarah stroked her hair. “How could this have happened?”

Lonnie stared over her aunt’s shoulder into the fire. A clothesline, heavy with undergarments, hung from one end of the mantel to the other. Damp stockings dangled limp, lifeless.

“I love him,” Lonnie whispered, unable to pull her gaze away from the
drip, drop
. “And they’re going to take him away from me.” She straightened and wiped tears away. “How can I be so stupid? How can
I love him after what he’s done? I want to kill him and hold him all at the same time.”

“Oh, my dear girl.” From the fire, the kettle billowed and steamed, but Sarah didn’t move. “How did this come about?”

Lonnie pulled her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her boots balanced on the edge of the chair. “Gideon …” She dug her fingernails into the fabric, struggling to gain control over her resolve. “Gideon put little stock in controlling his passions.” She blurted the words out quickly, hoping they wouldn’t sting. But it was no use. A sickening rose in her stomach at the thought of what he had done. The thought of who he had been. She’d always known the scoundrel he’d been back then. But never had she imagined the price it would cost her. Lonnie drew in a slow, shaky breath, knowing she would have to say it eventually. “He loved Cassie before me. He loved her in ways he never should have.” Lonnie moistened her lips. “She wasn’t the first, either.” A shiver tiptoed up her spine.

Gideon had always gotten what he wanted from a girl, and Cassie had been no different. Except Cassie expected more than a ruined reputation. She had expected his ring. And his ring she had gotten. Lonnie turned her own cold band around her finger, trying with all her might to recall what she had seen in those eyes of his. She’d seen hope. The promise of better days. She buried her face in her skirt. Eventually, that had turned into love. She pressed her eyes closed, unable to wipe Gideon’s face from her mind. The closeness of him quickened her heart as if she could reach out and touch him. “He’s a changed man. I know it.” She lifted her face. “He loves me. He’s proved it over and over. The Allans have insisted he return to Cassie. They have the law and the
church on their side. I can’t lose him.” She pressed a palm to her forehead. “Oh, Lonnie, you’re so stupid.” She shook her head from side to side. “Why couldn’t he have been honest with me? Why couldn’t he have just come out and said it? been honest about his past?”

Sarah studied her.

Lonnie wondered what truths she would discover.

“You’re thinkin’ of runnin’, aren’t you?”

Ever so slowly, Lonnie nodded.

Sarah drew in a slow breath. “Is that what Gideon wants too?”

Fingers tangled together, Lonnie pressed them to her chest. “Very much.” Her hand in his. And in time, the pain in her heart at what he had done would lessen. Because he would spend the rest of their days proving his love. Of that she was certain.

Would God but grant her those days. For she had only one left.

“And?”

“And I told him I wouldn’t go.”

Slowly, Sarah bobbed her head. “Did you mean it?”

A quick breath, and Lonnie glanced away. Did she?

“The Allans, you said.”

“Yes.”

Sarah stared at the kettle. The steam filled the room with warmth and moisture. Sarah’s chest lifted, then dropped in a shaky sigh. “Do you know what Samuel and Eli Allan can do?”

“Yes.”

“Gideon’s crazy.” Sarah pursed her lips. Slowly, one side lifted. “But I can already tell he loves you.” She pressed fingertips to her heart. “To risk it.”

Lonnie gritted her teeth when emotion overwhelmed her. “That’s what I believe too.”

“But you’re not going to let him.”

Her heart lurched at the thought of any other outcome. But no matter how she tried to rewrite the story, she couldn’t. Gideon had married Cassie first. And with her he must stay. “I don’t know what to do.”

Sarah fiddled with the edge of a napkin. She rose, and her stockinged feet made nary a sound as she crossed the room. She swung the kettle away from the flames, then lifted a small, wooden bird from atop her Bible and pulled the big black book down. Licking her thumb, she moved forward several pages, finally pressing her hand to the words. She set the book in front of Lonnie.

Lonnie read the first few lines. She lifted her eyes. “The judgment of Solomon.” Floorboards squeaked underfoot as Lonnie shifted.

Sarah nodded and sat. “Two women claimed to be the mother of the same child. So the king tested them, putting the child’s life at stake.”

She knew what happened next, and she wished there was another way.

“The child’s mother—the one who truly loved him—offered to give him up so that he might live.” Slowly, Sarah set about putting together two cups of tea.

It wasn’t until Lonnie had taken a sip and then another, that she finally spoke.

Putting voice to her answer.

When sunlight finally streamed through the cracks of the lean-to, Lonnie rolled away from the light only to find the place beside her cold. It came as no surprise. She knew Gideon was gone. Her pa had refused to let him back in the house. She’d seen the fire in her father’s eyes and knew it was hate she saw there.

Standing on the porch, Lonnie had watched Gideon go. Felt her heart lurch as if to sneak from her body and follow.

Jacob stirred beside her, and Lonnie closed her eyes to shut out the morning light but could not turn back the clock. Another day had gone. Another day with Gideon was lost to her forever—reduced to a memory.

She smoothed her palm over the cold sheet. The mattress was rough beneath the threadbare covering. Lonnie imagined Gideon lying there. What would she say?

Rolling onto her stomach, she reached for her pack, which she caught by the strap and dragged across the floor. It fell still when her hand went limp. Unable to move, Lonnie stared at it. The paper Reverend Gardner had given her had been carefully folded and tucked in the bottom beneath her few belongings. It was safely out of sight, but not out of mind. Lonnie wished she never had to retrieve it. But as she carefully
unfolded the ivory paper, words leaped off the page as if they were written in blood and not Reverend Gardner’s shaky penmanship.

She ran her fingertips down the lines until the tip of her pinkie smoothed over the letters of her name. She traced her way across until her finger stilled where her husband’s pen was meant to fall. She would ask Gideon today. If he refused, which she knew he would, she would beg him. With an uncontrolled gasp, Lonnie let the page slip from her grasp and float to the bed. She would fall to her knees if she had to.

Her pain was raw. Fresh. But entwined with the ragged pieces of her hope lay a love she feared would never die. She would be the one to let go. And he would marry another.

It had to be this way.

Slinking from beneath the sheets, she wasted no time. She unbuttoned her nightgown until it fell around her ankles. She kicked it free and shivered as she reached for her dress. Her motions were stiff but quick as she buttoned the collar and tugged the sleeves over her wrists. Even so, she could not stop shivering. The cold cotton clung to her skin. Tossing an apron across her lap, Lonnie tied it securely, then eyed the paper lying limp among the rumpled blankets. She hesitated and then, in one quick motion, folded the page and slipped it into her apron pocket.

After scooping up her sleepy-eyed son, she stepped from the lean-to. Her pa glanced up from the table, eyes bloodshot. His hand shook as he reached for his coffee. Lonnie wondered what he had added to the dark brew to help him get through another day. She didn’t care to stick around to find out.

She strode past her ma and grabbed a biscuit for Jacob and herself, ignoring the breakfast that steamed from the table.

“Where are you going?” her pa demanded.

Lonnie shut the door behind her, certain he wouldn’t follow. He probably couldn’t even get out of his chair in the state he was in.

She held Jacob to her chest and kissed his downy curls. He smelled of straw and milk, and she held him tighter. The O’Riley farm was a few good miles, so she settled into a comfortable pace, knowing she wouldn’t reach it for a while. She made slow progress, taking care not to stumble on the mountain path with Jacob in her arms.

The baby was fast asleep, his head limp against her shoulder, by the time the cabin loomed in the distance. She glanced around, hesitating as she wondered where to begin. She decided to try the workshop.

She tugged the latch, but the door was too heavy and, with Jacob in her other arm, impossible to budge. In an instant, the door creaked open and Gideon stepped out.

He breathed her name.

“Gideon.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I—I have a few more questions.”

“All right.” He nodded earnestly. His fingers brushed her elbow. “I’ll answer anything you ask.” He ushered her into the workshop and shut the door behind them. He lifted Jacob from her arms and, with his head, motioned for her to sit. Exhausted, Lonnie sank onto a bench against the wall. Gideon sat beside her. Their sleeping son resting against his broad chest. His shirt was unkempt, his collar crooked, and frayed cuffs rolled back haphazardly. Shadows circled beneath his eyes. Lonnie bounced her foot nervously before speaking.

“So my pa …”

Gideon nodded slowly. “Your pa wasn’t too pleased, was he?” He
crossed his ankles. His long legs nearly touched the workbench. “Can’t say that I blame him.” When he diverted his gaze, she sensed defeat in his eyes. The paper weighed her pocket as if it were a stone.

It’s what you want
, she reminded herself. The good outweighed the bad. He would no longer be hers, but he would not be hunted down like an animal. His heart would continue to beat.

He would still know his son, watch him grow up.

In time, Gideon would smile, though it would not be at her. Lonnie knew she had to focus on that truth. It was as cold a comfort as a threadbare quilt in the wee hours of the night.

She shifted and their shoulders pressed together. She felt his warmth through his wrinkled shirt and sensed the shape of his flesh that could only be formed by years of wielding a heavy ax. He was so close. How she wished she could turn back the clock. But Lonnie folded her hands in her lap. There was no use.

What had been was gone. She glanced at Jacob. He would be her constant reminder of Gideon. Lonnie stared at the boy who mirrored his father. She wondered if the resemblance would be a blessed reminder of the man they loved or a curse to make her long for Gideon when he was no longer hers.

Gideon cleared his throat, his voice soft against Jacob’s hair. “You said you had questions.”

Questions. Yes. But they flitted like butterflies around her mind. He was too near. Lonnie scooted away ever so slightly and pressed her hands between her knees. “I guess I don’t know where to begin. I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

Grief folded itself into his brow.

“What’s going to happen with Jacob?”

The little boy sighed in his sleep. Gideon’s eyelids fluttered closed. “He’ll stay with you. He needs his mama.”

“He needs his papa too.”

Gideon’s nostrils flared, and he cleared his throat as if to contain his emotions. “How I wish that were possible,” he said softly.