Be Still My Soul: The Cadence of Grace, Book 1 (29 page)

“Have a good nap?” Elsie popped a loaf of bread out of a pan.

Lonnie ran her fingers across her eyes and nodded. “Gideon home?”

“Afraid not.” Elsie eyed her curiously. “Are you feelin’ all right?”

She stared out the window, wishing he would appear on the pathway. She knew her words sounded distant. “A little drowsy, but I feel fine.”

“Hmm.” A touch from Elsie brought Lonnie’s attention back to the kitchen. “Why don’t you have a seat?” She stirred the mush bubbling on the back of the stove. “You can keep me company.”

“I should lend you a hand.” Lonnie moved forward. Her steps were slow. “I’ve been feeling sluggish lately. I’m exhausted every day. I don’t know how I’m going to manage for another few months.”

Elsie nodded. “Little ones will do that to a mother. But spring’s about here. The baby won’t be long after.”

Lonnie gasped. The child inside her moved, and she placed Elsie’s pudgy hand against her dress.

Elsie’s mouth parted. “Oh. What a dear.” Her gaze softened on the empty space between them. “I can’t believe how quickly the baby’s grown.”

“Me neither.” She felt her stomach, stunned at how much baby could fit inside her. She started to set the table, and by the time she folded the last napkin, her aching back forced her up the stairs, where she sank into the mattress with a soft moan. Tucking her hands beneath her cheek, she closed her eyes.
Be safe, Gideon
. A prayer lifted from her heart. The stirring of worry grew.

G
ideon whistled as he walked, and although it made the solitude pass easier, his steps were slow in the fresh snow. One glance at the lifting sun and he knew he was not making good time. All the same, he would be there soon. He sighed, feeling the sun higher on the horizon than he liked. He knew it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep an eye out for a place to stay. Just in case.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. It was a tight fit with his gloves on, but some habits never faded. After a dozen more paces, he slung his pack off his shoulder. Long before daybreak, he’d stuffed the rest of yesterday’s bread in the bottom, followed by a jar of cider. It wasn’t much, but he planned on being home before sunset. He tore off a chunk of bread before tossing his pack back into place.

Gideon crammed the bread in his mouth as he glanced behind him. His were the only tracks except for those of a deer and a few birds. He was completely alone. He shook his head, hoping this wasn’t as crazy as it felt. But he remembered Bert, and he quickened his pace. He wasn’t about to let that man anywhere near Lonnie.

That was all he needed to know.

When the trail split, he slowed. He was certain he remembered where Bert’s camp was, but Gideon kept to the path toward town. On the way back, once he had enough money to cover his debt, he’d veer toward the right and hopefully find Bert. Patting his coat pocket, he felt the coin pouch, certain he would have no need of it.

Lonnie pressed her hand to her throat, but her skin was cool. She leaned against the pillows and laid her hand on her forehead, but her skin held no hint of a fever. Then why did she feel so terrible? She blinked up at the ceiling. It had to be something different. Crossing her arms over her stomach, she rolled onto her side and let her eyes fall closed, but even in the darkness of her mind, the room spun.

Was that Elsie calling her?

Lonnie sat up, and her feet fell to the floor like lead weights. She grunted to a standing position and shuffled to the door. Every step was an effort as she descended the stairs. Halfway down, Lonnie paused, placed her palm to the wall, and, fearing she would faint, sank onto the step behind her. Even as she dropped her head into her hands, she fought to keep her eyes open.
Come on, Lonnie
. With a groan, she forced herself to stand and took one weary step after another.

As she crossed the parlor, a faint pain struck low in her back. It started slow at first, then pulsed deeper. She sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly as the pain released its grip. She stood motionless for several minutes, and her breathing steadied. She straightened, surprised at how quickly the pain had come and gone.

“That you, Lonnie?”

She turned to see Elsie with her head in the cabinet under the stairs.
The older woman sat back and frowned even as she pulled a cobweb from her tidy bun. “What have I gotten myself into?” She brushed the dust off her apron and struggled to her feet.

“What are you doing down there?”

Elsie closed the cabinet door. “Oh, I had some baby things from long ago. I know I saved them …” Her voice trailed off as she glanced around the parlor. “I just can’t remember where.” She smoothed a hand over her hair and seemed lost in thought. “It will come to me. I’ve gotten forgetful over the years. Sometimes it just takes a moment or two for my mind to find itself again.”

“Can I help? I’m good at findin’ things.” Lonnie straightened a stack of books on the end table and, using the edge of her apron, wiped a volume of poetry clean of dust. “I had four brothers and sisters. Someone was always losin’ something if they weren’t losin’ each other.” A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. She brushed it away but caught wise eyes following the motion. Lonnie picked up the broom and started sweeping.

“You feelin’ all right?”

Lonnie fanned herself with her hand. “I’m just a little warm. It feels hot in here for some reason.” The sun sank lower in the window. She wished Gideon would come home.

“I’ve got a good fire going.” Elsie hurried to open a window. “Figured the men will need it when they come in.” A gust of cool air filled the parlor, and Lonnie closed her eyes, finding comfort in Elsie’s confidence. Gideon would be home soon. If only she knew why he’d left in the first place.

“It’s a cold one out there today,” Elsie murmured against the glass. She turned and studied Lonnie. “Have you had any pains?”

“Some. But not much.”

Elsie pursed her lips together. “Well, no sense in overdoing it, then. Why don’t you go have a lie down?”

“I’m fine, really. I don’t want to be a burden.” Lonnie felt Elsie’s eyes on her as she worked her way to the back porch. “Besides, I’ve been resting all morning.”

Elsie seemed hesitant to let her go. “Promise me you’ll take it easy now.”

Lonnie smiled over her shoulder, thankful for Elsie’s help. “I will.” She stepped out and breathed in the cool air. She kept one hand on the broom and placed the other on the side of her stomach. Her child moved beneath her fingers. Lonnie circled her belly, trying to feel it all at once. “Hello there, little one. Are ya getting antsy?” She waddled to the edge of the porch. “You’re just like your pa. Be patient now. You’ve got a while yet.”

Her words were light, but closing her eyes, she sent a desperate plea heavenward, praying that her child was in no hurry to meet the world. Willow scraped across weatherworn pine as she started on the top step.

She did not come out here often. Most everybody used the back door; it was the fastest way into the kitchen and the most likely place to find Elsie. As she took the beauty in, Lonnie allowed her thoughts to drift. One thing circled in her mind these days—what she would name the baby. Picking a name for a girl had proved to be easier than choosing one for a boy.
Maddy
and
Sarah
were her favorites, and while she tossed around a few names for a son, she could only narrow it down to two. She favored the name
Adam
, but when Gideon suggested
Jacob
, it stuck with her.

Through the window, she spotted Elsie scrubbing at the glass until it shone. Lonnie moved the broom over the boards.

Her body warmed, and Lonnie caught hold of her stomach just as
it tightened. An unwelcome sensation shifted through her, and her eyes widened. She dropped the broom against the house and did her best to hurry through the parlor and up the stairs. Even as the bedroom door slammed behind her, she yanked at the folds of her apron and skirts.

Elsie’s footsteps pounded behind her, but Lonnie screamed her name regardless.

The bedroom door burst open. “Heavens, child! You scared me half to death.”

“It’s serious.” Lonnie stumbled sideways and caught herself on the brass headboard.

Elsie’s face paled. “What do you mean?”

Lonnie closed her eyes. “There’s blood.”

“How much?” Elsie stepped closer.

“Not much.” How much was enough? Lonnie’s hands trembled as she clutched them to her chest. “My baby,” she mouthed.

“Has this happened before?”

“No.” She hadn’t felt pain like that ever. Was it enough to draw the baby out of her? take away the life she had been growing? Her and Gideon’s child. Her voice trembled when she spoke. “Elsie, what does this mean?” The longer it took Elsie to reply, the smaller the hope in Lonnie’s heart became.

“I’m not too sure. I’ve been to plenty of births, but I ain’t too keen on the beforehand stuff.”

A tear slipped down Lonnie’s cheek, and she smeared it away. “How will I know what to do?”

Elsie shook her head. “Time. That’s my guess. The more time, the better.”

“My time’s comin’, isn’t it, Elsie?” Lonnie turned away, not wanting a response. The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds. Seconds that
her baby was still alive and safe.
God
, Lonnie cried in her heart.
Keep this child safe. Just a little longer. Please, God. Don’t take my baby away from me now
.

She watched Elsie’s face change from concern to sorrow. “We should fetch the midwife.”

“Gideon.” The word slipped out in a whimper.

“I know.” Elsie moved to her side and slid an arm around her shoulders. “That baby’s not comin’ just yet, and Gideon’ll be home before you know it.” Elsie squeezed her hand, her face urgent. “I’ll go tell Jebediah right now. It shouldn’t take long to fetch her. In the meantime, I want you in that bed. I’ll be back in just a minute.” She released Lonnie and hurried from the room. Lonnie stood motionless in the center. She could do nothing but listen to the pendulum on the grandfather clock below tick slowly from side to side.

E
lsie had hardly been gone two minutes when Lonnie peered out the bedroom window and saw Jebediah stride across the yard, his pace quick. Within a few hours, his shadow would fall on the midwife’s door, and they would be back as soon as they could. The thought of summoning the woman sent a shudder of fear through Lonnie. Her fingertips grazed the glass.
Where are you, Gideon? Come home
.

She bent over and struggled out of her wool stockings. With a gasp, her body arched up. A dull cramp seized the muscles low in her stomach, nearly taking her breath away. She massaged the tender spot, and although the pain eased, it did not fade completely. Her cheeks tingled as she struggled to stand upright. She held her belly in one hand and pushed against the bed with the other. With a groan, she reached for her shoes. “Uh!” The spasm pierced her again. Lonnie bit back a yelp and lay against the pillows. With her feet still on the floor, she stared at the ceiling.

Delay this, God
.

Though she tried to keep herself calm, a squeal escaped her lips. The ceiling faded to a blur, and she rested the back of her hand over her eyes. It took the last of her strength, but Lonnie slipped her feet under
the cool sheets and sighed into the feather pillow.
Perhaps if I just rest
. If she could sleep, the baby would not be able to go anywhere. Lonnie pulled the quilts over her body and closed her eyes. She steadied her breathing and forced herself to relax.
Just hold on, little one
.

She lay that way for several minutes and then shifted. Was there no way to get comfortable? Lonnie rolled onto her side and clutched Gideon’s pillow to her chest. She blinked up at the window.
Where are you, Gideon?
She pressed her nose to his pillow. Squeezing her eyes tight, she sent up a quick prayer for him.

Elsie tapped on the door and bustled back in. “How are you faring?”

“Fine,” Lonnie said softly.

Elsie smoothed her hair away from her face. “Jeb should be back before nightfall.” She lifted her face to the window. “And hopefully Gideon will be home before then.” Her hand stilled. “His note didn’t say anything about—”

“No. Just that he would be home soon.” Lonnie squeezed his pillow tighter.

The quilt was cool when Elsie tucked it beneath Lonnie’s chin. “You just rest now. I’ll keep an eye out for both our husbands.”

Lonnie closed her eyes and tried to read what her body was telling her. The ache had faded, but sometimes it rose again. A tightening that she couldn’t describe. She forced her breathing steady and tried to count the weeks she’d been carrying the baby. A pain began, and she opened her eyes. The pain intensified. She gasped. “Elsie,” she said weakly. The dull ache rose into a burning, and Lonnie’s breath cut off short. When it passed, she struggled to sit up. “Elsie!” she called as loudly as she could, but her throat was tight.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. “Are you all right?”

Lonnie flung back the sheets to see that her nightgown was wet.