Though My Heart Is Torn: The Cadence of Grace, Book 2 (8 page)

Gideon glanced at Lonnie, then he forced a smile in Maggie’s direction. “I see you’ve met our Jacob.”

“Yes.” Her ma made no move toward the baby. The single word hung in the balance, the silence deafening. When the sound of Joel’s steps faded, Maggie reached for the child, squeezing his hand with a muted tenderness. A smile lifted one side of her mouth. She brushed her finger down his round little cheek. A noise made her jump, and she pulled away.

Lonnie held Jacob tighter. The clock on the mantel chimed, reminding Lonnie just how long the day had been. Knowing that all eyes were on her, she forced a smile as she removed his cap. “He’ll be happy to sleep in a real bed tonight.”

Her ma shook out her apron. “Yes.” She glanced around the tiny space. “Now to make up some beds for the night.”

“Please don’t go to any trouble for us. Gid and I don’t mind stayin’ in the lean-to. Oh, but Sid and Oliver are in there.”

“Take it.” Oliver quipped. “We’ll sleep in the barn.” He elbowed his brother mischievously. “We promise not to try and burn it down this time.”

Their ma shook her head, but she smiled.

“Thanks, you two.” Lonnie looked back at her ma. “It’s all settled, then? Gid and I will sleep in the lean-to.”

Maggie touched her own cheek, pressing pale fingertips into her aging skin. All humor faded away. “Your pa won’t like that.”

“What are you talking about?”

Maggie pursed her lips, a thousand unspoken words in her brown eyes. “He just won’t like it.”

Lonnie straightened her shoulders. “Well, he’s just gonna have to live with it.”

Water dripped from the eaves, and Gideon stared up at the soggy lean-to boards. No sunrise slipped through the cracks of the faded gray wood that was dark with moisture. Not this morning. He ran a hand over his face, trying to drive away the sleepiness, but it was no use. He was exhausted. And sleep had been scarce the night before.

As much as Gideon had wanted to collapse onto the cornhusk mattress and lay aside the weariness of the journey, Joel Sawyer’s abrupt departure had wedged a splinter of worry in his gut. But why, he didn’t know. All he knew was that Joel would scarcely look him in the eye.
That
he expected. But what he didn’t expect was the way Maggie looked at Jacob. With hesitation. Fear almost.

He inhaled slowly, the musty damp air filling his lungs. Lonnie lay curled on her side beside him, her hand tucked beneath her cheek. Jacob slept between them, his ginger curls askew.

Not wanting to get up, Gideon lay back down on the cornhusk mattress and stared at the roof. His eyes landed on a small crack. Droplets of water pooled and then ran down the angle of the slanted ceiling to drip into a bucket on the floor. The sound reminded him of his childhood.

He pulled the quilt closer to his face and shivered against the cold.

Lonnie’s quaint voice murmured through the blankets. “You asleep?”

“No. Did I wake you?”

“Sort of.” She rolled over to face him. Her ears were red with cold, and she pulled the blanket up to her chin. “But that’s all right. I should get up anyway and help Ma with breakfast.”

Rain flicked off the tin roof. Another sound that reminded him of home.

Gideon realized just how long it had been since he’d last seen his folks. Perhaps he’d be able to pay them a visit. He was certain they would be pleased to see Jacob. Somebody had to be.

As Lonnie lay there watching him, Gideon voiced his idea.

“I’d be happy to,” she said, truly sounding glad. “We can leave as soon as breakfast is over and—”

Gideon pressed a finger to her lips. Her eyes widened.

“Do you hear that?” He moved his hand away, curling the end of her braid around his finger.

She glanced over, then shrugged. “I don’t hear anything.”

He sat up, inviting a waft of cool air beneath the blankets. “There it is again. I hear horses.”

Lonnie rolled her eyes playfully. “Well, there’s something out of the ordinary.”

“No.” Gideon’s feet fell to the floor. “Sounds like a wagon.”

“Pa doesn’t have a wagon. Maybe someone’s come to visit. Maybe it’s your folks.” She sat up.

He doubted it.

Gideon jumped out of bed and struggled into his pants. “You always
assume the best about people.” He winked at her, liking the way her freckled blush scattered his worry.

Using his good arm, he carelessly stuffed his shirt into his pants and yanked his belt tight, wincing when pain ripped through his shoulder. He struggled to smooth the collar, and when he fumbled with his cuffs, Lonnie hopped up and buttoned them.

“I better hurry.” With her nightgown twisted around her torso, she was a jumble of knobby arms and legs as she scrambled to get dressed herself.

Giving her a wedge of space, Gideon pushed past the lean- to door. It fell closed behind him. Maggie emerged from the bedroom. She was dressed and combed, her striped apron already dusted with flour. She peered out the window, then studied him for several breaths. Her eyes softened. Her expression, so different from the night before, was almost apologetic.

“Mornin’.” Gideon tipped an imaginary hat. “Is it my folks?” He pulled the door open.

“No … it’s Reverend Gardner.” She studied him with an unveiled sorrow so intense that a cold fog settled in his chest.

From the open doorway, Gideon watched Joel greet the stout reverend with a two-handed shake.

Joel’s voice carried up the stairs. “They’re here.”

Gideon stepped back, but the rickety porch squeaked, and both men glanced up at him.

Joel motioned to the man beside him. “You remember Reverend Gardner.”

The man had married him and Lonnie. “Yessir.”

The reverend followed Joel toward the house.

“Nice to see you again, Gideon.” His smile seemed forced.

They scaled the steps, and Gideon made room for them to enter. The reverend closed the door with a soft
thud
. He turned his black hat, fingers twitching as they traced around the rim.

“And the others?” Joel blurted.

Reverend Gardner glanced at Gideon. “On … on their way.” His eyes fell to the floor. “Paid them a visit early this morning.” Bushy eyebrows fell to slants. “A little too early if you ask me, but as you know, the matter is most”—he glanced at Gideon again—“urgent.”

Gideon’s jaw flexed. “Someone wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

Lonnie emerged from the lean-to, eyes bright. “What’s the matter?”

Joel slapped his hands together. “Now that we’re all assembled”—his palms swished as he smoothed them back and forth—“perhaps you’d like to begin?” He waved a hand toward Reverend Gardner, who shook his head so fast, his insipid cheeks bobbled back and forth.

“Though I don’t wish to be difficult, my colleague, uh, made the discovery, and I feel it might be best to leave it up to him to”—the reverend gulped and moistened pasty lips—“break the news.”

A tight smile lifted Joel’s mouth. “Suit yourself. Coffee?” He pulled a chair out.

The reverend settled himself at the table. “Please.”

Gideon felt Lonnie step beside him.

“Pa?” she asked. “What’s the matter? What news?”

“By and by, Lonnie. See to the reverend’s coffee, please.”

Lonnie moved to the coffeepot, then held it close. She made no move to serve them, and Joel made no move to reach for it. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I will not stand here another moment and
let you play your game.” Her voice, though soft, was strong. “I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

His expression hardened.

Gideon shifted. He rolled his bad shoulder, and a burn shot through his back. Still, he’d use it if it came to that. If Joel even lifted one finger to her.

Joel stared at Lonnie. Neither moved. Finally he flicked his head toward the table as if she hadn’t spoken. “The reverend’s ready for his coffee.”

He sat in his chair. He smiled at the reverend. A sickening rose in Gideon’s throat. As if she hadn’t noticed the exchange, Maggie followed behind with a plate of biscuits.

“Help yourselves, gentlemen.” She stepped toward the lean-to. “Lonnie, I think Jacob might be stirring. You stay. I’ll see to him.”

The reverend sipped his coffee. Then, at the sound of a wagon approaching, his cup rattled to a halt on the table in front of him. His eyes darted toward the ceiling as if sending up a silent prayer. “Must be them now.”

“Must be who?” Gideon slammed his palm on the table. The reverend jumped.

Joel opened the front door and smiled toward Gideon. “Reverend Brown. From the church in Tuggle Gap. You might know him.”

Gideon felt air leave his chest.

“And Henry Allan.” Joel’s gruff voice turned smooth and cool. “Surely you remember him. He has a daughter about your age. Cassie.” His tone curdled. “Pretty thing.”

When Lonnie’s gaze flashed to him, Gideon dry swallowed. Heat covered his skin. He stepped away from the fire but found no relief.
Cassie. Each noise from outside echoed in his ears, pounding inside his mind. The horses stilled. Voices murmured. Footsteps sounded on the stairs. His world shrank to a pinhole as his heart pounded out a terrifying cadence.

Lonnie’s shoulder pressed his as she whispered, “Gideon, what’s going on?”

His mouth too dry to speak, he merely shook his head. The door swung open, and a waft of cool air filled the room, seeming to seep into his bones.

Reverend Brown loomed in the doorway as dark and uninviting as a nightmare. Cassie slipped into the room and lowered her shawl from her shoulders and damp hair.

Her eyes found his. The vibrant blue snapping with that familiar mischief he knew well. Too well. Regret collided into his chest, nearly choking off his air.

Lonnie stared as the visitors filled the tiny room. She recognized Mr. Allan and his daughter Cassie. But she had never seen the new reverend before. He was taller than any man she’d ever seen. Dark bushy eyebrows framed deeply sunken eyes as brown as the mud on his massive boots. Rain dripped from his black hat. He removed it, creating a small puddle on the rough boards beneath him.

Her ma handed Jacob to Addie, who carried him over to a basket of toys. Quickly, she took the reverend’s wet things and laid them over a chair near the fire along with all the others. He gave her a curt nod, then glanced at Gideon, eyes piercing.

Lonnie absorbed the exchange.

She slipped her palm inside her husband’s and was surprised to feel that his hands were colder than the air outside. She studied him, frightened by what she saw. His eyes glanced from one guest to another before landing on Cassie. Lonnie stared in disbelief when their gazes locked and held. His chest heaved, his breathing heavy. The room fell silent. Gideon simply stared at the bright-eyed girl.

Lonnie squeezed his hand.
Gid?

Reverend Gardner cleared his throat. “As I was saying earlier, it’s time we came to the matter at hand.”

No one moved. No one sat. Each person loomed in a crooked circle inside the four walls of the small house. She shifted uncomfortably.

The stout man continued. “Reverend Brown, would you care to explain the, uh, situation?”

Reverend Brown cleared his throat, and then his voice boomed over his fellow clergyman’s. “Yes, I’d be happy to.”

His eyebrows dropped, and he frowned at Gideon.

The reverend pressed his hands together, interlocked his fingers, and tucked them beneath his chin. “It has come to my attention by Reverend Gardner that you”—he nodded in Lonnie’s direction—“are married to this man here”—he turned to Gideon, his voice sharp—“Mr. O’Riley.”

Lonnie fought the tremor in her voice. “Yessir.”

The reverend’s glare narrowed. “And you believe your marriage to be legal and binding in the eyes of the church … and of God?”

Her mouth was so dry, Lonnie could scarcely swallow. “Yes, of course.” Her voice came out weak.

He grunted, clearly not surprised by her response. “Well,” he said flatly. “Therein lies the problem.”

Problem?
Lonnie stepped closer to Gideon, afraid of what the man would say next. Fingers that had been so cold now smothered her hand in heat. Startled, she pulled away.

Reverend Gardner pressed his palms together and pointed two fingers at Gideon. He spoke up, his voice stronger than before. “Because, as Mr. O’Riley very well knows, this young woman, here”—his hands opened, palms turned toward Cassie—“Miss Allan, believes
herself
to be legally bound to Gideon O’Riley in the eyes of the church and of God.”