Be Still My Soul: The Cadence of Grace, Book 1 (34 page)

“He’s hangin’ on. He’s a strong fella.”

Gideon sat back on his heels and wiped his sleeve across his eyes. “When?”

“Yesterday. Not too far apart. Lonnie had a rough time of it, but she was so brave. She’s doin’ good now. Elsie’s watching over her. And that baby—”

“Tell me.” Gideon lifted his gaze in earnest.

“He’s a fighter. He’s clinging to his mama, and he’s gettin’ stronger by the minute.”

Gideon swallowed, but the lump in his throat would not go down. “Did she name him?”
Did she name her?

“Jacob.” Jebediah squeezed Gideon’s arm. “Your son’s name is Jacob.”

Even as he spoke the words, Gideon’s heart burned as it tore in two. “The girl?”
Was she beautiful? Did she look like her mother?

“Sarah.”

Gideon’s eyelids fell. In an instant, he saw what would have been. A little girl with freckles. A warm hand inside his. Butterflies and bedtime stories. With slow, impossible movements, he turned his head and wept.

E
lsie wandered in from the cold, gray curls feathered around her forehead and cheeks streaked with dried tears. She sank on Lonnie’s bed, and without a word, she wrapped cold fingers around Lonnie’s hand and prayed for the little girl who was with Jesus. Lonnie caught a tear that slipped from the end of her nose and sniffed as Elsie added words for the men. “Lord, bring them home safe.” With their hands clasped atop Elsie’s damp, muddy skirt, she whispered a soft amen.

Elsie opened her eyes and smoothed her thumb across her cheeks. “Are you hungry?”

Lonnie brushed a kiss to Jacob’s temple. She didn’t want to admit it, but her stomach knotted with hunger, and she nodded. “What can I help you do?”

“Not a thing.” Elsie flashed her a muted smile and sniffed. “I have a pot of soup on the stove that’ll be done in a bit. In the meantime, there’s some cookies to nibble on.”

She disappeared down the hall, and Lonnie flashed her gaze to the window. Scolding herself for being so anxious, she turned her attention to Jacob. She found it easy to disappear in the joy of his presence. She
bounced him gently. His purring slowed, and with awkward movements, he stretched and opened his eyes.

“Hello there, my sweetheart.” She grazed her thumb across a velvet-soft ear and down his wee nose. “Aren’t you precious?” She tilted him toward the window so the sun could touch his skin as Elsie had suggested. “You are such a wee thing. You will have to get lots of rest and drink all your good milk to get healthy and strong. Then”—she lifted his hand to kiss tiny fingers—“you can play with your pa, and he can hold you in his arms.”

Elsie returned with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. Lonnie nibbled on a cookie.

Elsie took a bite of one and brushed the crumbs from her gray dress.

Lonnie adjusted Jacob, then lifted her chin. “Did you hear that?”

Elsie arched her neck toward the doorway and placed a finger to her lips, eyes wide. Neither of them made a sound, yet noise came from somewhere.

The back door opened. It closed.

“Jebediah.” Elsie jumped up and squeezed Lonnie’s knee. “You sit tight.”

Lonnie leaned forward, willing her heart to cease pounding. When voices lifted from below, she placed a hand to her heart. Only one man spoke with Elsie. And it was not her husband.

Jacob whimpered, and she scooted him around until he was in position to nurse. When he quieted, she leaned toward the door. Frustration crawled like hot fingers up her neck and cheeks.

Finally, Elsie returned, her face somber.

“Gideon?” Lonnie’s mouth hung open.

Elsie’s gaze whipped to the hall. “Jebediah found him.”

Lonnie released her breath. “He’s home?”

“Yes.”

Footsteps trudged into the doorway, and Gideon stopped just shy of the room. Lonnie gasped. Blood was caked in the creases of his lips and beneath his nose. A bruise high on his cheekbone fanned into cuts and scrapes that reached his forehead.

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Gideon!”

He stared at the floor.

Elsie cleared her throat. “Jebediah found him. He was in a pretty bad way.”

“What happened?”

Gideon looked up. His face was heavy with guilt, but his eyes softened when they landed on the bundle against Lonnie’s chest.

“Is that …?” He hesitated, then took the few short steps forward. Kneeling, he reached out but pulled his hand away.

Lonnie moved the blanket from Jacob’s face and tilted him toward his father.

Gideon’s eyes danced over the face of his baby. “He’s …,” he choked. “He’s my son.”

She looked down on the man she missed more than words could say. “Yes.” They were a family now.

With his face full of longing and wonderment, Gideon wrapped his arms around her, and fresh tears sprang to her eyes when he gently pressed her head to his shoulder. Lonnie sighed, her eyes pinched shut—savoring his essence—then she pulled away.

She blinked up at him. “Have … have you been drinking?”

He leaned back, his face suddenly ashen. “No. I mean, I can explain.”

Elsie stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Gideon, but she needs to know the whole truth.”

“What whole truth?” Lonnie glanced from one face to the other, the scent of corn liquor making her stomach churn. “You’ve been gone for two days. What happened? Who did this to you?”

Pain seared through Gideon’s eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Gid—”

“I didn’t tell you, Lonnie,” Elsie interrupted. “Jebediah discovered it just yesterday—”

Gideon lifted a hand. “Lonnie,” he began. “What she’s trying to say is that I took their money.”

Lonnie’s jaw fell.

His eyebrows dropped in clear agony. “Lonnie, please trust me. I would not lie to you.” He wrapped her hand in his cold palm. “The watch … I was trying to find Bert. But he wasn’t alone.” Gideon’s gaze faltered. “He took the money from me. I promise I was going to give it back.” His voice thickened.

She clutched the sheets in one hand, bracing her heart against her rising pulse.

“It’s all just a misunderstanding. And this”—he tugged at his soiled shirt—“isn’t what it looks like either. It was those …” He rose. “Bert poured it—”

“Stop!” Lonnie snapped. “Just stop.” She placed a hand to the pounding beneath her nightgown.

Hands still raised, Gideon stepped back. His lips parted, eyes pained.

“Why?” Lonnie moaned.

Elsie touched Gideon’s elbow. “Maybe this isn’t a good time. Let’s get you cleaned up, and you can talk about this later.”

“No.” Lonnie closed her eyes. “Leave.” Her finger pointed to the
door—a sword tipped to an enemy’s heart. Her eyes narrowed. “Go. And don’t come back.”

As if a hammer had struck his lungs, Gideon slumped. “But I—”

“Go!” she screamed, covering Jacob’s head with her hand. He woke anyway and started to fuss.

“Come on, Gideon.” Elsie motioned him toward the hallway. “Let’s leave her alone.”

His eyes remained fixed on Lonnie. But with a gentle pull on his arm, Elsie coaxed him from the room. His agonized face disappeared.

He spoke. “Elsie, I—”

“How dare you!” Lonnie screamed even as she choked on tears. “You left me!”

Jacob’s cries rose, and she rocked him from side to side, but he wouldn’t be soothed. Tilting her face to the ceiling, she struggled for breath.
Why, God?
She wept, her shaking body jostling her son. She heard Elsie and Gideon murmuring at the top of the stairs. Why was he still here?

Her words came out like poison, hurting not only the one they were spoken to but the one whose heart they came from.

No going back?
she had asked.

His promise resounded in her heart.
No going back
. But it had been a lie.

“Don’t ever come near me!” she screamed, knowing the daggers of her anger would pierce him. “I never want to see you again!”

Jacob wailed louder, and she did not have the strength to soothe his cries. She tucked her chin to her chest and wept against his head.

L
onnie listened. Every stomp of Gideon’s boots brought the end nearer.

She sat on Elsie’s bed with the door closed. She couldn’t be in the same room with her husband as he packed his things. Obeying her wishes. She tilted her head toward the noise that leaked beneath the bedroom door. Dresser drawers opened, then closed. The bed squeaked. Boards creaked under his feet. Lonnie placed her fingertips to her lips. Every sound tore her apart.

He was leaving. And she had told him to go.

A lighter pair of steps walked down the hallway, stopping between the bedrooms. Elsie spoke softly, and Gideon responded, his voice deep and rumbling. Lonnie lowered her face, her resolve thinning. She placed a protective hand on Jacob’s silken head. No. It had to be this way. It was better for her son.

War raged in her heart.

Gideon was still so close. All she had to do was run out of the room and tell him she was sorry. And he would stay.

She clutched the quilt to keep herself from leaping off the bed.

As Ma would have done?
Lonnie gritted her teeth. She couldn’t be
that woman. Remembering the sight of Gideon’s blood-caked face and the reek of moonshine, she owed it to Jacob to see this through.

She heard Gideon speak her name, and when her resolve faltered, Lonnie gripped the quilt tighter.
Leave
. Her heart wrenched as if the life were bleeding out of it.
Just leave
. This waiting was too much to bear.

Footsteps pounded across the floor, steps too heavy to be Elsie’s and too determined to be Jebediah’s.
Oh, Gideon
. Her head spun.

The door slammed.

Lonnie jumped and slid toward the end of the bed. She clutched Jacob close so she wouldn’t bump him. Heavy steps paced the length of the hallway, then descended the stairs. The pounding of her heart mimicked his dogged stride. In the middle of the room, her feet froze in place.

The front door opened, sending a waft of cold air up the stairs. The door downstairs slammed. She hurried into her bedroom, and her hand flew to her mouth. All of his things were gone. She flung the wardrobe door open and gazed at the emptiness. Everything. Lonnie stumbled toward the window. There, in the snowy yard, stood her husband. The man whose deception was the blade that cut the last cord of hope between them.
Or had it been your anger?
Lonnie shook her head. She had a right to be angry.

When she had needed Gideon the most, he had failed her.

There was nothing else to be done.

The man below turned in a slow circle, as if studying the yard one final time. Lonnie touched the cold glass and bit her lip to keep from calling his name.

He turned toward an unpainted cross, the young wood golden. Lonnie’s breath caught. His shoulders slumped, and he placed a hand to his head. Then, in a few strides, he scaled the tiny fence and stood
inches from the mound of black earth. Dropping to one knee, he placed a hand on the wood.

Lonnie cursed her tears for obscuring her sight.

She swiped at the moisture with her sleeve as Gideon hung his head, and she coughed at the knot of tears in her throat. Finally, he rose and ran his hand over his eyes, then turned toward her window.

Their gazes locked.

Then, with slow, labored steps, Gideon walked away—his few belongings, a little food, and Lonnie’s heart stowed in his bag.

She turned so Jacob could face the glass.
Open your eyes
. His tiny lashes remained pressed to his cheeks. Lonnie could not hold back her tears any longer. Her son had never seen his father.

And now he was gone.

She stared at the trail of snowy footsteps, wishing she knew his course. Where would he go? Lonnie sank away from the window and faced the room. She would have no way of finding out. No way of ever knowing.

“Lonnie,” Elsie called through the door. It opened, and the older woman wrapped both mother and child in a gentle embrace. “He’s gone,” she whispered softly. Meant as an encouragement, the words sliced into Lonnie’s heart.

“Elsie, what did I do?” She buried her cheek in Elsie’s soft shoulder and wept. “I don’t know what to do now.”

Elsie rocked her gently. “You did what you had to.”

“I’ll never see him again.”

She lifted Lonnie’s chin. “Nothing in life is final.”

Frayed beyond repair, the last thread of her strength severed. Her body shook with sobs. “He’s gone,” she moaned. “Elsie, he’s gone.” Her
breath came in short gasps. Elsie kissed the top of her head and offered a tight hug before finally releasing her.

“I’ll come check on you in a little while.” She slipped out the door.

Lonnie sent one last hopeless glance out the window, then she loosened the curtains and let them fall. The room dimmed. That would be the last time he’d look up at her window. Never again would she see him cross the yard.

She moved to the bed, knowing she’d jostled Jacob too much already. Something caught her foot, and Lonnie stumbled forward but righted herself against the wall. Her ankle smarted, and she rubbed it against her calf. She spun around to see Jacob’s heavy cradle swaying.

“Oh,” she moaned at the reminder of the man she loved. She wanted to lay Jacob in the cradle his father had made. Maybe then the two would be close. Lonnie tucked her chin to her chest and looked down on her sleeping son. It would be weeks before he could sleep away the afternoons in his cradle.

Kneeling, she touched the smooth wood and imagined Gideon’s hands working along every grain and sanded knot. She sniffed and wiped her eyes with her shoulder. The cradle stilled. She slipped one foot inside, and then the other. As she sank down, her nightgown puffed around her knees. She fit between the four low walls, but when she tucked her knees up, Jacob began to fuss.

“I’m sorry, baby. All you want to do is sleep and here I am moving ya all over.” Instinctively, she rocked her hips from side to side, and the cradle swayed. Lonnie closed her eyes. “Shh,” she hummed. “Sleep, my precious baby. Sleep.”

Jacob’s fussing turned to a whimper, and soon he was wailing.