My Hope Is Found: The Cadence of Grace, Book 3 (27 page)

Her eyes widened. She quickly scanned the page. Color drained from her face, and then she handed it back.

“Cassie’s there, Lonnie. But I have to hurry.” He wanted to pull her close, have her nearness be the only piece of normal he could grasp in this moment. But his mind whirled with too many outcomes to do anything other than force himself to step away. “I have to go, Lonnie,” he said, his tone urgent even to his own ears. “I’ll be back. No matter what, I’ll be back.” Even if it were to say good-bye, he needed her to know that.

Ducking into his stall, he looked around, his hands moving faster than his mind. In his haste, he knocked the books from his crate. The tie
Jebediah had lent him was still where he’d left it, and Gideon rolled it around his hand before stuffing it in his pack. He tried to think if he was forgetting anything, then with a jolt, he grabbed his tin can of money. What few bills and coins he had, he crammed into his pocket. Gideon hurried out into the graying light and jogged across the yard.

Lonnie had moved to the shelter of the porch. Waiting. Jacob in her arms. The road called to him. Only because his freedom called to him. But seeing her standing there, her shawl whipping around the pair of them, Gideon moved toward her in a few long strides. For one brief moment, he allowed himself to pull them close. His lips grazed the top of her head, and before he could forget himself, he slid his hand behind Jacob’s head and held them as tight as he could. As tight as he dared. Slamming his eyes closed, he sent up a prayer that this would end well.

Oh, God, that this could end well
.

And just as quick, he pulled away. Forced himself down the steps. Toward Stuart.

The wagon jostled, and Gideon gripped the side of the wagon bed. Feet dangling over the edge, he rested his hands on his knees and lifted his eyes to the sky. The air was still bright, the sun holding its ground.

“ ’Bout half a mile more to Stuart,” the man called over his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Gideon leaned back on a sack of grain. He’d walked all that was left of the day before and come sunrise had walked several hours before the wagon had passed by, ushering him toward Stuart more quickly than he’d expected.

He’d sensed that the man was the quiet type, and it was just as well, for his mind was whirring with too many outcomes to hold a proper
conversation. He savored the quiet, rehearsing over and over in his mind what the judge might do and say. His thoughts held him captive until the first sounds of town drew his attention back to the road. They’d passed the blacksmith’s and were ambling slowly beyond the locksmith’s, the wooden sign that hung overhead creaking in the wind.

“This is where I stop.”

Gideon jumped down and grabbed his pack. “Thank you for the ride. I
really
appreciate it.”

“My pleasure. Was headin’ this way anyway. Happy to help, son.”

With a tip of his hat, Gideon turned in a circle, trying to get his bearings. Then he spotted a sign for Main Street. Quickly heading that way, he saw the courthouse in the distance. It took all his self-control not to run down the street and up the steps. Walking as fast as he could, Gideon threw decorum to the wind and jogged toward the massive brick building, stormed up the steps, and pressed past the doors, amazed to find them unlocked. Breathless, he stopped short. The entryway was dim, vacant. He glanced around at the hollow corridors.

“Hello?” His chest heaved.

A dark bun popped up from behind the desk. “Oh!” Mrs. Peterson said, a hand pressed to her heart in surprise. “I didn’t know anyone was there.” She pulled papers into her lap that must have fallen, for they were scattered behind her desk.

Gideon moved to help her. “Is Judge Monroe here?”

“I’m afraid he’s gone home for the day. I should be out of here myself, but I had some things to finish up. I thought I’d locked the door.”

The papers collected, Gideon straightened and stepped back, feeling more than a mite guilty for barging in on her like this.

“But”—she tapped the page edges against the floor, straightening them—“I have something for you. I’m glad you’re here. The judge sent a
circuit rider out yesterday.” She struggled to stand, and Gideon quickly helped her. “Thank you.” Her wrinkled hands brushed dust from her skirt. “I didn’t know he would find you so fast. It’s providential,” she said with a shake of her head, handing him a small crease of paper. “This is from Miss Allan.”

Gideon took it.

“Come back tomorrow, Mr. O’Riley.” She pulled a beaded purse from the back of her chair, then picked up a cloak. “Judge Monroe will be eager to speak to the both of you.” Her eyes sparkled, filling Gideon with a flood of happiness.

Was this really happening? “Yes ma’am. I’ll be here.”

“Good, good.” With a ring of heavy keys in her hand, she moved toward the door. Gideon followed. Together they stepped out into the darkening evening, and she tugged the heavy door closed with a hollow
thud
. A jingle of the keys, and the lock clicked into place.

“Miss Allan told me she would be at the ordinary. The one just at the end of the road, owned by the Smiths.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Gideon tipped his hat. With a friendly smile, she started down the steps, no doubt toward home.

Surrounded by the strange town, Gideon stood a moment and forced himself to take a few deep breaths. He opened Cassie’s note, the words no different than the message Mrs. Peterson had spoken aloud. He started toward the ordinary. Reaching the yellow two-story house, he was unsure if he was supposed to knock or walk in. He chose to tap his knuckles against the red door. After a moment, the door opened, and a stout woman with silver hair peered up at him.

“Evening, sir.” Her Irish accent reminded him of his grandmother’s. Thick and mossy. “Are ye looking for lodgings?”

“Mrs. Smith? I’m looking for a Miss Cassie Allan.”

“And who be askin’?”

Gideon hitched his pack higher up on his shoulder. “I’m—”

The woman arched an eyebrow, and he could see why this was the best ordinary in town. She wasn’t about to let just anybody in. “I’m her … husband.”

She sized him up from his boots to his hat. “I’ll be seein’ about that, young man. Just you wait there on the bench. I’ll be just a moment, laddie.”

The door closed in his face.

Gideon shifted his feet. Shoulders aching, he set his pack on the bench, nearly knocking over a pot of lacy flowers. His heart pounded at the thought of seeing Cassie. He tried not to glance in the window, but the glow of a fire in the parlor drew his attention. The smell of something sweet baking hung in the air.

He saw the woman return. Her boot heels clicking stormily across the hardwood floor. “The laddie down here says he’s your husband.” The glass muffled her voice.

A second trailed it. “The
laddie
?”

Cassie.

He moved away from the window and quickly straightened his coat collar.

In a gust the door opened, and suddenly Cassie was before him. “Gideon!” Her eyes widened. “It’s you!” A tenderness in her expression made him remember all that had passed between them. She flung her arms around his neck, hugging tight. Her scent so flowery it made his head spin, Gideon finally loosened her grip.

“You’re the one who’s been hard to find.”

“So the lad
is
your husband?”

Cassie’s smile was mischievous. She propped a hand on her hip as she studied Gideon. “Husband, you say?”

He shifted his feet again.

A sparkle in her blue eyes, she made a show of whispering to the woman. “If I were you, I wouldn’t let him in.”

“That was me instinct as well. I’m sorry, Mr.…”

“O’Riley.”

“You’ll just have to find alternate lodgings.”

Of course. “Thanks, Cassie,” he said flatly.

Her shawl draped over her arm, Cassie stepped onto the porch. “We do have some unfinished business to attend to, though.” She slid her hand through the crook of his elbow and motioned for them to walk down Main Street. “Shall we?”

At the bottom of the steps, Gideon remembered his pack. “I left my stuff behind.”

“Mrs. Smith will see that it’s taken care of. She doesn’t permit stealing.”

He laughed. “And why do I
not
want to know how you already know that?”

She winked. “Her bark is worse than her bite.”

“I can see that. And thanks a lot. Now where am I supposed to stay?”

“The hotel?” By her tone, she knew how much it cost.

“I thought they’d have more than one room.”

“They do.” She patted his forearm and nodded toward a passing couple. “But others might not know that.” Her voice was soft and near. “You’re one day from freedom, Gideon. Even a simple little rumor can wreak havoc. It’s better this way.”

She was right. He gave her arm a little squeeze, then released her when
they passed another couple. “And what does tomorrow hold?” He stopped walking, and she turned to face him, her heart-shaped face so peaceful that part of him wondered if she was the same person he’d met all those years ago.

Her blue eyes blinked up at him. “You won’t be able to call me your wife.”

His expression must have changed, for she tilted her head to the side.

“Gideon, did you think I wouldn’t come?”

“I didn’t know what to think. We couldn’t find you. What happened?”

She twirled a strand of molasses-hued hair around her finger. Ever so playfully.

He smiled. The old Cassie wasn’t buried too deep after all.

“It’s a long story,” she finally said, propping a hand on her hip. “And I’m
very
hungry.”

He tipped his head toward the hotel. “C’mon. I’ll buy you dinner, and you can tell me this long story.”

Leaning back in his chair, sweet tea in hand, Gideon watched Cassie over the rim of his glass. She studied the menu as if she’d never read a word of English. Finally the waitress returned for their order. For the second time.

Cassie pointed to the menu. “I’ll have the chicken potpie.” She closed it and hurried to add, “Please.”

Gideon couldn’t help but smile, and when the waitress looked at him, he simply asked for the same.

“So many choices. I thought I’d never decide,” she said.

“That makes two of us.”

Unfolding her napkin, she slid it in her lap. She wore a white blouse with a lace collar that made her look mighty pretty. Her dark hair was done up stylishly.

Nearly all the tables in the hotel restaurant were full, and Gideon was glad to be near the wall where it was a bit quieter. The elderly couple seated behind Cassie chatted happily. Pearl earrings danced against the woman’s neck each time she laughed. The man with her was dressed in the same fashion as Reverend Gardner.

“So tell me, Cassie, what happened?”

“I went to Roanoke. There’s a hospital there, and they needed nurses. Still working on the training part.”

“You’re going to be a nurse.”

“Don’t look so shocked.” She gently kicked his shin under the table. “I’m doing quite well.”

“That’s wonderful.” He straightened in his chair and, leaning forward, clasped his hands on the table. “And are you happy, Cassie?”

She nodded, her smile wide. “For the first time in my life, I really am.”

He studied her to see if she meant it. But she kicked him again.

“Stop staring at me like that. I ain’t lyin’ to you. Trust me. If I didn’t want to go through with this tomorrow, I wouldn’t be here.”

And he believed her.

A sip of tea and she wrinkled her nose at the taste. “I got a letter from my ma—it had
another
letter from the judge enclosed, along with something else I was supposed to sign and bring back. I hurried here as quick as I could. I went to the courthouse and spoke to the judge—”

“You spoke to him?” Gideon tried not to sound concerned.

“Yesterday morning, when I arrived.” She leaned back when the waitress returned with two plates. Steam rose from the one in front of Gideon. The tall, slender waitress then lit the candle in the center of the table, casting Cassie’s face in a soft glow.

“Thank you.” Cassie reached for his hand. “Shall we?”

He took it and bowed his head. He spoke a soft prayer, feeling so much more gratitude than he could fit into those brief words. When he finished, Cassie turned her fork in her hand.

“Where was I?”

“The judge.”

“Oh yes. I spoke with him yesterday, and he said that there were a few loose ends we needed to tie up, and it would be best if you were here for it.
That’s when he sent the circuit rider. He told him to hurry.” Her smile was soft. “And I can see that he did.” Her fork gently pierced the pastry and ducked it into the cream sauce.

Suddenly realizing he hadn’t eaten since dawn, Gideon took a bite of his own.

“What was it like going home?”

“Reverend Harris!” a man bellowed.

Gideon shifted slightly in his chair as another couple gathered around the table behind Cassie.

“Jimmy!” The man in the black coat stood. His bald head caught the candlelight, and his silver beard brushed his coat. “It’s good to see ya!” Their voices softened as they all took their seats, and just as Gideon turned his attention back to his food, he better glimpsed the woman at the reverend’s side. The one with the pearl earrings. Seeing a ring on her pale hand, he assumed she was the reverend’s wife. She smiled cheerily at the other couple, white hair piled high into a fashionable bun. Her dress was fine—like it had never spent a day on a farm.