Be Still My Soul: The Cadence of Grace, Book 1 (8 page)

Gideon crossed his arms over his chest. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” His voice was low.

“Well, to bed!” Charlie hollered, his face inches from his older brother’s.

“I know that. But you ain’t sleepin’ in there.” He tossed his thumb in Lonnie’s direction. His unspoken words made her stomach churn.

Her cheeks grew hotter than the coals in the fire. She lowered her eyes and suddenly found great interest in Charlie’s worn-out boots.

Charlie put hands to hips. “You trying to tell us that we’re gettin’ kicked out of our own room?”

Gideon nodded slowly.

“Well, where we supposed to sleep?” John pitched in.

“On the floor. By the fire, where it’s warm.” Gideon rose and, without another word to Lonnie, disappeared into the bedroom.

She didn’t move. Perhaps he intended for her to sleep somewhere else? A tiny warmth of hope grew in her, but before it could bloom, he stepped into the doorway.

“Come on, Lonnie, you can sleep in here.” He held the door open, and as the room swallowed her up, she heard Charlie mutter under his breath.

“Guess I need to get me a wife.”

“Who’d have you?” John countered.

Gideon shut the door, muting their scuffle.

Lonnie looked around the room, lit only by the candle Gideon held in his hand. Her gaze traveled across the furnishings. She tugged a comb and brush from her sack and set them neatly on the dresser to occupy herself. With that done, she turned around. The room was so small, it seemed impossible not to absorb in one blink. A bed with a swayed mattress huddled in the corner. Blankets lay scattered about. Shirts and pants hung over the bedframe in disarray, and Lonnie couldn’t begin to guess which boy they belonged to. She glanced around the rest of the room, and it wasn’t until her chest burned that she realized she was holding her breath.

As if he sensed her discomfort, Gideon pulled the clothes from the
frame and tossed them in a heap on the floor. He tugged the blankets, barely straightening them. “We left in a hurry.” Gideon fell silent as he moved two pillows to the head of the bed. “Hadn’t thought this far ahead.” Their gazes locked, and Gideon smeared his palms on his pants.

After the way he’d acted three nights before, Lonnie found that hard to believe.

He sat on the bed with a grunt and yanked off his shoes. Each boot thudded to the floor, and Lonnie thought of listening ears in the rest of the house. She cringed. Gideon tugged at his neatly tucked shirt, loosening it from his pants. With quick fingers, he started on the buttons. Lonnie stared at the floor and pressed her hands to her cheeks.

His fingers stilled. “You all right?”

If she spoke she would cry, so Lonnie just nodded.

“I’m gonna get a drink of water.” The bedframe creaked when he stood.

Lonnie stepped aside, letting him pass. When he was gone, she undressed down to her shimmy and slid into her nightgown before climbing onto the straw tick mattress. She drew the covers up to her chin and scooted toward the wall until the rough logs jabbed at her back.

His eye is on the sparrow
.

Lonnie prayed God could not see her now, not like this. Even so, she needed His strength.

When Gideon returned a few moments later, he shut the door silently. His every movement was slow and drawn out. Tortured, Lonnie closed her eyes. Finally, she heard him blow out the candle. When the weight of his body sank the straw tick, she grabbed at the homemade mattress to keep from rolling into him. He stilled, and she pulled her arms into her chest so as not to touch him.

She scarcely heard him swallow over the thundering of her heart. His pillow rustled when he turned to look at her. Then without a word, he rolled toward the wall. His shoulders rose and fell slowly. Lonnie stared at the ceiling as relief washed through her.

I
don’t like her.” Ruth’s voice grated.

Gideon finished the last of his eggs. “Sorry to hear that.” He’d woken to an empty bed and was in no mood for his ma’s choice of topic.

“You gonna stand there and act like you don’t care?”

“I don’t see what can be done about it.” He sipped his cold coffee. “ ’Cept to say that we’ll be outa here soon anyway.”

“Think that’ll solve your problems?”

“Some of them.” He pushed his empty plate away and threw back the last of his coffee. “I have work to do.”

His ma poured boiling water from the kettle into the washbasin. “Is that what you call it? Just whittlin’, if you ask me.” Her eyes moved to a half-finished walking stick that should soon boast an intricate top. “It’s not like you ever get paid with money.”

When his irritation heightened, Gideon tapped his thumb on the table. “You didn’t complain about the pair of rabbits I brought home last week.”

Her face softened, but not by much. She shook her head. “Gideon.” She moved the porridge pot from the table. It had long since been picked clean by hungry mouths. “You know I hate to see you go.”

“Then that makes one of us.” He looked his ma in the eye, not caring if his words would hurt. She was as tough as they came; she’d be over it before the dishes were done.

She waved a hand at his words. “It’s not you, Gid.” She lowered her voice, the wrinkles around her mouth deepening. “It’s that girl.”

Gideon ignored her comment as he reached for his coat.

“All I’m sayin’ is that you could have done better—”

The slamming door drowned out the rest of her words as Gideon strode from the house.

“Little late for that.” But his conscience told him otherwise.

If there was one thing he’d learned about Lonnie, it was that she was as brave a creature as he’d ever met. It didn’t take him long with the candle snuffed out to realize that. Gideon chewed the inside of his cheek. What did she think he was going to do to her? He might have been a fool once, but he wasn’t cruel.

Thinking of the half-finished rocker, he headed toward his wood-shop. He spent the better part of an hour oiling the new wood before he spotted Charlie hauling water from the well. His younger brother’s wiry arms were taut from the load. Knowing the oil would need to soak in, Gideon walked that way.

“Up for an outing?” he asked, taking the bucket.

Charlie fell in step beside him as they strode toward the house. “What do you have in mind?”

Gideon suggested they stroll down to their secret spot in the meadow. Charlie grinned. Gideon deposited the water by the door where his ma would find it.

“Where’s Lonnie?” Charlie asked.

“Mae invited her berry pickin’.”

“Oh. So when do I get my room back?”

A handful of years younger than Gideon, Charlie cared little of the ways of women. Gideon didn’t blame him.

“Probably sooner than you think.” With hardly any money to his name, Gideon’s best bet was building a shanty on his pa’s land. But his ma had made it clear how she felt having Lonnie around. Something inside Gideon told him a little distance would be better. With Joel no longer breathing down his neck, Gideon knew he had nothing to fear from Lonnie’s pa. Still, the notion to distance himself from it all was growing more appealing by the hour.

“Should we see if Hollis is around?” Charlie asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Gideon pulled his hand from his pocket, and when they neared their friend’s cabin, he picked up a small stone and tossed it at the loft window. A few moments passed and then a ruddy face appeared behind the glass. Charlie waved the young man down. They kept to the path without slowing. A bend brought them into a small hollow surrounded by thick trees and bordered on one side by a faint creek. The hollow opened to a meadow, the autumn grasses unfolding toward the hills in a dry, crisp blanket.

Gideon picked up a pebble and threw it with enough force to startle a pair of crows hopping along the water’s edge. His younger brother grabbed a stick and did the same. They tried to see who could get their rock closest to an X in the rough bark of a gnarled oak. Gideon had carved the target a few summers before.

“What are you two sissies up to now?” a raspy voice croaked.

Gideon turned to see Hollis step past a tree. “I wondered if you’d be able to sneak away.”

“When have I ever failed you?” Hollis held up a newspaper and a quart jar filled with clear liquid. The sun danced across the glass, piercing Gideon’s soul as much as his eyes.

“That a boy.”

“How many times have I told you to get your own paper?”

“I lost count.”

“And yet I save them for you.” Hollis slapped the paper against Gideon’s chest.

Gideon grinned. He took the wrinkled newspaper and tucked it under his arm.

“Done stole this from my pa’s still.” Hollis tipped the jar to his lips. “Taste’s rough.” He grimaced, then swallowed. “But the kick’s quick.” He stepped in front of the mark, bringing the game to a halt. “He’ll tan my hide if he finds out.” He took a long chug, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before holding out the jar. “Look atcha. An old married man.”

Gideon grunted and clutched the moonshine to his chest. “So it seems.”

“Bet it’s treatin’ ya good.” Hollis wagged bushy eyebrows.

Gideon shrugged. He put the glass to his lips. The sting of alcohol hit his throat, and in an instant, he pictured Lonnie’s face. He swallowed the poor man’s liquor and wiped his mouth. He wasn’t much of a spiritual man, but if he were, he’d liken the feeling to guilt.

Shaking his head to dislodge the image, he lowered the jar. He knew his emotions had betrayed him when Hollis smirked. Throwing shame to the wind, Gideon took another swig and let the liquid burn its way down his throat until his eyes watered. Passing off the jar, he leaned his shoulder against a tree and shook open the newspaper. “Anything interestin’?”

“Not much.” Hollis stepped closer and tapped the center of the second page. “But says here they’re lookin’ for workers in Stuart. Towns growin’ ever since they ran the railroad through there. Stores, banks. That’s what holds folks’—”

“I know what a bank is.”

“Been thinkin’ about takin’ myself down there. See more of the world. Pays good too.”

“That so?” Gideon studied the small printing and struggled to read half the words.

Hollis nodded and folded his hands behind his head. Still standing, he tilted his face toward the sun and closed his eyes.

Beside him, Charlie threw pebbles at the tree.

Finally, Hollis looked at him. “Say, Gid. Sorry I missed the weddin’.”

“Were you waiting for a formal invitation or did you just sleep too late?”

Hollis grinned. “Sure would’ve liked to have seen the look on yer face.” He flicked up the collar of his coat. “My pa says Joel Sawyer’s crazy.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’ve heard what folks say about him.”

Gideon sat and rested his forearms on his knees. “Yes.” He cast Hollis a sideways glance. “And I’d rather not think about it.”

Hollis guffawed, his ruddy face turning a shade redder. “You done messed with the wrong daughter!”

Gideon snatched up a stick and hurled it at him.

Still laughing, Hollis ducked, but it clattered against his shoulder. “Not so big for yer britches now, eh?”

Gideon made a face. “You talk too much.” He took another swig of moonshine.

“Watch yourself there, Gid.” Charlie snatched the quart from him. “Save some for me.”

“Aw, hush, Charlie.” Gideon leaned back against a tree, the liquor warming him. “You ain’t never had a drink in your life and you know it.”

Charlie set his jaw, and with a brave glint in his eyes, the sixteen-year-old took a sip. He choked and coughed but managed to swallow. “I have now,” he said, eyes tearing.

“Give me that.” Hollis yanked the jar from Charlie and plunked it down on a rock. He settled the drink between his boots and shook his head. “Sissy.”

Charlie shoved his hands into his coat pockets, his face still screwed up from the taste.

“So tell me …,” Hollis began.

“I don’t want to talk about it if that’s what you’re getting at.” Gideon stared straight ahead.

“Aw, c’mon. You’re the first one to get married.”

Gideon tossed a leaf toward the creek. “Yeah, so why am I hangin’ out with two ugly bachelors?”

“Good question,” Hollis murmured before taking another sip. He handed it to Charlie. “I’ve seen that Lonnie Sawyer.” The whistle that slipped past his teeth sent a wave of irritation through Gideon.

“It’s O’Riley now,” Charlie blurted as he swallowed and passed the jar back.

“Shame. Shame.” Hollis shook his head and traced his finger along the mouth of the jar. “Pretty thing.”

“Watch it,” Gideon said flatly. But Hollis’s implication bothered him more than he liked. He crossed one boot over the other.

Hollis plunked the moonshine at his feet. He lifted his hands palms up, his freckled face the picture of innocence. “I’m as saintly as they come.”

“Sure.” Gideon tried to push Lonnie out of his mind.

“Oh, I see.” Hollis dragged out the words slowly. “And here I thought
you was just bein’ a gentleman.” He grinned. A snaggle tooth caught the afternoon sun. “I see what’s gotten ya all moody.” With the tip of his finger, he poked his hat back. “Nothin’ happened.” He leaned forward. “Did it?”

Gideon’s eyebrows clamped together. “What makes you think I’d tell you?”

Hollis seemed to study him. “And all these years I had you pinned as some ladies’ man.”

“Shut up.” Gideon stood.

“Aw, don’t get your socks in a twist.” Hollis screwed the lid on the jar.

“It’s none of your business.” Gideon motioned for his brother to stand.

“Well, I sure won’t be gettin’ the cold shoulder on
my
weddin’ night.” Hollis’s laugh grated.

Gideon waved off the comment and tucked the paper beneath his arm before striding down the path. Charlie followed behind, his steps uneven. Gideon grasped his brother’s arm and led him toward home.

“The moon looks mighty fine from up here,” Charlie said, tipping back. He fell with a thud on the seat of his pants.

With a groan, Gideon retraced his steps. “First of all …” He crouched down. “You’re not up there, you’re down here.” He flung Charlie’s arm over his shoulder and, setting his jaw, heaved his brother to his feet with a grunt. “ ’Sides. That’s the sun.” His ma would skin him alive if she saw Charlie in this state.