Though My Heart Is Torn: The Cadence of Grace, Book 2 (30 page)

“Looks empty, but I’ll check it just the same. You can wait here.” He veered off to the right and sank in the drifts beneath the trees. Chilled through, Lonnie crossed her arms over her chest and shivered. The tiny rabbit tracks that littered the freshly fallen snow wove this way and that in a delicate lace pattern she found strangely beautiful.

Jebediah slowed as he approached the snare. “Yep, empty.” He
looked back at Lonnie. Even from the distance, she could see the disappointment on his face.

“You still got a few to check, though, right?”

He waved her forward. “Yeah. We’ll keep goin’.” They walked toward each other until their trails united, and Lonnie fell in step behind his heavy boots once more. They’d hardly gone a dozen paces when he motioned to another snare.

“Would you look at that!” Jebediah handed his shotgun to Lonnie and hurried off toward the trap. “Got one. Come see.” Wrinkling her nose, she followed his bidding.

“See how it sprung?” He clamped his gloves together in a swift motion. Jebediah sank back on his haunches and smiled. “Gid chose this spot. I remember ’cause I didn’t think it was a good place. Told him so several times, in fact, but that boy wouldn’t listen.” He shook his head, a smile forming beneath his mustache. “He was right.”

Her insides hollowed. Lonnie stuffed her hands into the pockets of Gideon’s coat. She closed her eyes. Feeling nothing but the cold in her toes and the bitter air on her face, she could almost imagine Gideon standing in the exact same spot only weeks prior.

Jebediah yanked off his gloves and struggled to loosen the frozen snare. When the critter had been freed and placed in a burlap sack, he reset the coils. They moved on to check the final location. It was as empty as the first.

“This one’s yet to bring me luck. Ain’t touched it since …” Jebediah’s voice trailed off to a mumble, and he scratched his jaw before stuffing red fingers inside his glove.

Staring at the lone trap, Lonnie felt a secret thrill knowing it was empty—exactly the way Gideon had left it. Even now, she could almost
see his rough, steady fingers as he cautiously prepared the dangerous metal spring. Lonnie clasped her cold hands between her knees.
Come on, Lonnie. You’ve got to do better than this
.

They trudged along in silence, this time side by side. They were in no hurry now. Her stockings were wet, her toes stiff, but there was nothing she could do other than continue on. Her hem trailed along the snow, the worn flannel frozen and caked with white powder.

“I know it’s gotta be hard to talk about him,” Jebediah began, breaking the unstated agreement of reverence—the silence that had settled between them. “But I sure miss that boy.” His voice trailed off, and he scanned the quiet land around them. “More than I ever thought I would.” He chuckled. “I still remember the day we met.” Jebediah lowered his eyes and draped his gun over his shoulder, the same gun he’d used to protect Lonnie that fateful day on the hillside. A shiny reminder of Gideon’s past offenses. “Who would have thought I’d miss that boy as if he were my own son?”

Lonnie stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. Gideon had touched them all in ways none of them had expected. She changed the subject. “I want to thank you for everything you and Elsie have done for us. Addie and Jacob and myself.”

“It’s our pleasure.” His voice was so sincere she could have hugged him. She could hardly express her gratitude to Jebediah and Elsie for offering them a safe shelter when they needed it most. It humbled her further when he had later refused her ma’s money.
“Save it for a rainy day.”
Jebediah had winked and folded Lonnie’s hands back over the bills.

A trio of golden sparrows darted from the safety of a small fir, their tiny feet hardly denting the soft snow as they hopped to and fro. They
flapped tiny wings and returned to their hiding places. Lonnie peered through the velvety branches where the birds settled and watched them shake frosty feathers.

The air was strangely still. The breeze that had carried them out like wind in their sails ceased to blow, and now their feet crunching in the snow was the only sound breaking the stillness of the forest. The sun that had offered down its warmth had slipped behind the highest peak. The snow, once golden white, softened to gray blue, lost its shimmer, and seemed to cool the air. Lonnie walked slowly—the rhythm of her steps lulling her into a sweet trance—and she nearly forgot all about her frozen toes.

A horse nickered in the distance. Stumbling to a halt, Jebediah turned. Startled, Lonnie froze in place.

An accent as rich as Scotch whisky broke the silence. “Well, if it isn’t two familiar faces.”

Lonnie turned. Glancing between the trees, she saw a horse and rider approaching.

Jebediah chuckled. “Toby!”

The dark-haired man tugged the reins, and the brown mare pranced sideways. Snow sprayed from beneath the horse’s hoofs when her muscular legs stomped to a halt.

Toby’s smile was warmer than any fire. “I thought I’d take Elsie up on her offer for supper.” He was breathless, eyes bright. “Didn’t think I’d run into two frostbitten trav’lers on my way.” He pulled his hat from his head in a brief salute, and his ebony hair stood on end. Smiling at Lonnie, he replaced the hat.

Jebediah held up the burlap sack. “Care for some rabbit stew?”

Those darn dimples appeared.

“Sounds wonderful, but only if Elsie’ll let me do the dishes.” He winked at Lonnie. “It’s good to see you again.” His kind eyes danced over her face.

“You, as well.” The words held an honesty that surprised her.

Lonnie smiled at Elsie. Toby’s eyes twinkled as he indulged Elsie’s plea for one more joke. “The young housewife gave the tramp a large piece o’ pie on condition that he should saw some wood. The tramp retired to the woodshed, but presently he reappeared at the back door of the house with the piece o’ pie still intact save for one mouthful bitten from the end.”

Elsie was already chuckling, and Toby paused long enough for his audience to lean forward in their chairs.

“ ‘Madam,’ the tramp said respectfully to the wondering woman, ‘if ’tis all the same to ye, I’ll eat the wood an’ saw the pie.’ ”

Elsie turned red with laughter. Her cheeks bobbed and her eyes watered. She swiped the back of her hand along her silver hairline. Jebediah chuckled too, and Toby sat back with a grin.

Jebediah lifted his cup in Toby’s direction. “You do have a way with words.” He nodded a salute.

“As we say back home, slàinte!” Toby lifted his cup of sweet cider and waited for the others to follow suit. Lonnie’s tin mug clanged against the others, and she took a sip. A soft head of dark curls grazed her arm as Addie leaned forward, her mug barely reaching.

With Jacob on her lap, Lonnie tipped a spoonful of broth to his mouth, and he took it vigorously. “You like that, don’t you?” she whispered into his velvet ear.

At eight months old, Jacob had taken to his first weeks of solid food with ease. She dabbed at his mouth with her napkin, and he clapped his hands, an unbridled declaration that he wanted more.

“Well, you can have all you want.” Lonnie retrieved a chunk of carrot and nibbled it smaller before poking the sweet orange flesh into Jacob’s open mouth. “Chew on that until it’s all gone, and I’ll give you more.” Pinching off a chunk of cornbread, she took a bite and licked the honey from her sticky fingers.

She felt Toby watching her.

“He’s a braw eater,” he said.

Lonnie nodded and ran her hand across Jacob’s delicate hair.
Just like his pa
.

When Toby’s spoon finally clanged inside his empty bowl, he sank against the chair and tossed his napkin on the table. “That was a fine stew, Elsie.” He stretched back and rubbed both his hands across his abdomen with a sigh.

Elsie dabbed at her mouth. “Thanks to Jebediah for the fine rabbit.”

Jebediah shook his head. “Like I told Lonnie earlier, the credit is Gideon’s.”

After taking a long gulp of cider, Toby lowered his cup to the table. “Gideon?” His Adam’s apple dipped.

Elsie and Jebediah exchanged slow glances before directing their gazes at Lonnie.

She had never spoken of it aloud to anyone other than Jebediah and Elsie. Lonnie cleared her throat and wondered what the words would sound like. “He was … my husband.” Her voice came out smoother than she had expected.

Needing to pull her attention from Toby’s face, she dipped her spoon into her stew and lifted it to Jacob’s lips.

“I’m verra sorry.” He stared at his plate a moment before speaking. “Had I been around longer, I might have known of his passing, and I would’na have brought it up.” His eager gaze met Lonnie’s. “Please, forgive me.”

Her hand stilled, but Jacob lunged toward the spoon, sending several drops of broth into her skirt.

“Well…” Elsie began but fell silent.

Toby glanced from one face to the next before looking at Lonnie. Setting her jaw, she forced the truth. “It’s not that.” She shifted. She had never said it aloud before. Glancing at Jebediah, she looked for help.

The older man propped his elbows on the table and leaned toward Toby. “Did you not read the message you brought from Rocky Knob? Did Reverend Gardner not tell you?”

Toby shook his head. “No sir.”

Jebediah peeked at Lonnie from beneath bushy eyebrows. When she nodded, he continued. “Gideon didn’t … die. He’s back in Rocky Knob. Matter of fact, you may even have seen him.”

“Oh,” Toby’s voice lifted, and he leaned back in his chair. “For a moment I thought.” His gentle voice sharpened, and he tilted his head. “What’s he doing in Rocky Knob?”

Jebediah hesitated.

Needing the torture to end, Lonnie moistened her lips. “He lives there … with his new wife.”

Silence.

Every eye bore into Lonnie’s, and she blinked, surprised at how the
words had leaped from her mouth. But it had to come out sooner or later. The neighbors would want to know. She sighed. The world would want to know where Jacob’s father was. Forcing her head up, she tipped her chin and stared bravely at Toby.

To her surprise, Toby’s eyes darted away.

“Who would like some pumpkin pie?” Elsie shoved her chair back and stood. The pie pan clanged onto the stove, and she moved for a knife.

“That would be lovely,” Toby murmured.

“And coffee, Elsie?” Jebediah hinted.

Elsie tossed her napkin to the table. “Comin’ right up.” Her smile seemed forced. “I’ll slice the pie, Jeb, if you’ll grab some clean mugs.”

Jacob squirmed, and Lonnie lowered him to the floor. Addie asked to be excused and slid out of her chair. She carried Jacob into the dimly lit parlor, and Lonnie heard the basket of wooden toys being tipped onto the rug.

Finally Toby spoke, his words thick. “I’m sorry to have brought up such a difficult subject. ’Twas not my place. I apologize.”

To her surprise, Lonnie found her lips curving of their own free will. She felt lighter having the news off her chest. She had expected his questions—his probing. But instead, he was giving her privacy that, as far as Lonnie had thought, in the eyes of the church was not due. There was something about Toby’s kind face and sincere way that made her believe him.

“It’s all right.” She turned and looked into the parlor at her son. His small hands fumbled with a wooden top. “I expect folks to have questions.”

Toby lifted his elbows from the table as Elsie slid a slice of pie in front of him. Lonnie accepted a plate, and silence fell as she dipped her fork into the pastry.

Scooting his chair closer to the table, Toby lowered his voice. “Well, all the same, it was daft of me to question you.”

Her heart beat away the seconds as his gaze lingered on her. He picked up his fork and turned it around in his oversized hand before finally, to her relief, shifting his attention to his dessert.

Arms elbow deep in hot dishwater, Lonnie strained her neck to peer out the kitchen window. The sun was nowhere in sight, but the fading glow promised another hour of daylight. Through the glass, she watched Toby toss his black coat onto the woodpile and set his hat on top. Lonnie stepped closer.

“What is he doing out there?” she mumbled.

Toby heaved the heavy ax toward the chopping block, dropped it on its head, and paused to stretch his neck from side to side.