My Hope Is Found: The Cadence of Grace, Book 3 (7 page)

With his bedroll folded in half, Gideon sat on the dry surface and sighed. He stared into the windows of the saloon, aglow with warmth and laughter. He stuffed his gloved hands against his sides and crossed one ankle over the other. A few hours, and it would be morning. A few hours, and he could be back at the courthouse. Gideon held his breath, if nothing else but to keep the cold out of his lungs. Finally, he drew in a shaky chest full of air, the iciness chilling him through. Closing his eyes, he settled his back against the side of the building as comfortably as he could.

He imagined Lonnie and Jacob preparing for bed. The thought of Lonnie reading their son a book by candlelight chased away his gloom, and he clung to the image as he fell asleep.

“I always feared you’d die young.”

Shivering, Gideon opened one eye. A man stood over him, the voice
familiar, but the blur of sleep fogged his mind. The morning sun over the broad shoulders of the man blinded him.

“I’m not dead,” Gideon said, shifting his stiff muscles. He blinked, but the light was too bright.

“Nearly.” The man had a kindness in his voice. A familiar drawl. Memories of working the apple farm flooded the front of Gideon’s mind.

“Tal?”

“What on earth are you doing sleeping on the sidewalk? And in Stuart, of all places? Why didn’t you stay at the inn? Or the ordinary?” Tal adjusted his weather-worn hat.

“Let’s just say my funds are limited.” Gideon groaned as he struggled to stand. “It’s a long story.”

Tal crouched and extended his hand. “You look plumb frozen, son.”

Stumbling to his feet, Gideon forced his numb legs steady. But they were shaking something fierce. “I think I am.” Gideon squinted at his friend, soaking in the joyous sight of a familiar face. Never had he expected to see his former boss standing before him. “What are you doing here?”

“Came on some business.” Bending, Tal grabbed Gideon’s pack and brushed at the icy layer of frost. “We’ll talk over some breakfast, all right? Let’s get you inside and some hot coffee into ya.” Tal motioned uptown, and even as Gideon’s stiff muscles complained, he followed Tal down the wooden sidewalk.

They strode in silence as if Tal was giving him a chance to wake up proper. Gideon’s blood warmed as he moved. Tal didn’t speak until they’d settled at a table in the inn restaurant and placed an order.

“So what brings you here?” Tal tossed his coat over the back of his chair, and in two breaths, a woman brought cups of steaming coffee.

Gideon wrapped his hands around the hot mug, pulling away only
long enough to splash in a bit of cream and stir in sugar. A sip and he tightened his hands around the cup, feeling the warmth all the way to his toes. “I need to speak with the judge … if I can.” The glass of the window was cool against his elbow.

When Tal’s eyes widened, Gideon was glad the woman in the black apron brought two plates of biscuits and gravy, delaying the conversation. She set the plates down with a clatter and a smile.

“Thank you.” Gideon turned his fork in his hand. He glanced at the clock, wondering what time Judge Monroe arrived at the courthouse each morning. “I’ll tell you everything. But”—he glanced out the window, certain he must seem as distracted as he felt—“I’m not exactly sure what’s going to happen just yet.” Gideon turned back to his friend. “Listen, where ya headed next?”

“The merchant up on Fourth. It’ll take me a few hours to stock up on the supplies I need. And then I’ve got to stop in at the saddler before I head back to the farm this evening.”

Gideon took a bite of biscuit and then another. Conversation falling by the wayside from sheer hunger. Glancing out the window, he spotted a stout man in a dark coat stride past. His top hat glinted in the morning light. Gideon grabbed his coat. He downed a heavy gulp of coffee, all but scalding his tongue. Jumping to his feet, he gripped Tal’s shoulder. “I will meet you at the merchant’s as soon as I’m done.”

“Sure thing, son.” Tal glanced out the window toward the courthouse. He waved Gideon forward. “Don’t worry none about me. You git!”

“See you in a little bit.” Gideon squeezed Tal’s shoulder, then darted out into the cold. Jacket in one hand, he barreled down the street, not caring about who stopped and stared. The wooden sidewalk thundered beneath his boots as he ran. Judge Monroe started up the steps of the courthouse as Gideon crossed the street.

“Sir.” Gideon moved in his path, walking backwards. Panting. “Please, sir. I need to talk with you.”

“Yes. You and half the people in this county.”

“Please, sir.” He gulped a breath of air. “Ten minutes.”

The older man glanced up, and something registered in his eyes. “Not you again.”

Still walking backwards, Gideon had to step out of the way of a pair of ladies in autumn-hued dresses.

Nearly to the massive doors, the judge adjusted the cuff of his shirt. He glanced at Gideon, his eyebrows so thick they shadowed his dark eyes. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“No.” He didn’t. “And I’ll be back tomorrow if need be.”

When the judge stopped walking, Gideon halted.

“And then I’ll be back the next day. Until you talk to me. Ten minutes. It’s all I’m asking for.”

Shaking his head, Judge Monroe motioned toward the building. “I’ll give you five. But this better be the end of it.”

“Thank you, sir.” Gideon followed him into the courthouse and past the wide-eyed receptionist he met the day before. Her perfume had changed, as had her hairstyle. Gideon nodded cordially, noting a twitch of amusement around her mouth. Uncertain as to how unusual this all was, he simply followed the judge down a corridor to a door with an etched-glass window.

Gideon stepped aside as the other man slid a key in the lock.

“This way.”

The judge strode into his office and gruffly stuffed back the curtains on the windows. Gideon stood in the doorway.

“Sit.” After working his way around the massive desk, the judge set a leather case beside his chair and sat with a sigh.

Gideon sank into the wooden chair across from him.

“What in tarnation can I do to get you out of my office so I can go on with my day?”

Gideon scratched his head. “I need to know if I’m married or not.”

The man leaned back in his chair. “You’re crazier than I thought.”

“No, you see …” Gideon shifted his feet, and before he could give in to the heat rising up his neck, he explained his predicament. His past.

Judge Monroe stared at him blankly as he spoke. Slowly, he tipped his chin back. “I remember you.” His face shadowed even as his thick hand rested lightly on the messy stack of papers beside him. “You caused a great deal of trouble for me. A
great
deal of trouble. Some months ago.”

How he believed it. “Yes sir.” Gideon scooted forward on the small chair. “I’m very sorry—”

The gray-haired man held up a hand before fiddling with one side of his mustache.

Gideon eyed the stack of papers on the desk. The judge followed his gaze to the mountain of cases beside him. Predicaments that were no doubt ahead of Gideon and Cassie’s.

“When is your hearing date?”

“I don’t have one.”

“And the young lady? Your wife?”

“She’s not here.”

His eyebrows lifted. “You’re not giving me much to work with. I’m a judge for the state of Virginia, Mr. O’Riley. Not a miracle worker.”

“Please.” Gideon said, chiding the tremor in his voice. “I need my son.” He needed Lonnie.

Twisting his mustache between two fingers, the older man studied him.

Gideon didn’t blink.

“Do you have any idea how
unconventional
this is?”

He hadn’t anticipated any problems, but now he knew what a fool
he’d been to think this would be simple. “I’m sorry, sir.” And he was. More than he could say.

After a knock on the door, the receptionist strode in with nary a sound. She set a steaming cup on the desk and then left just as quietly. Gideon glanced around at the shelves of law books. Some of the spines broader than his palm. The books that held his fate.

“Now you need to understand … this will require some time if you want me to give this any kind of attention. Rushing the matter will not help your case, Mr. O’Riley. As the state of Virginia sees things, you’re still a married man.”

Gideon hung his head.

“The wife who no longer wants to be married to you isn’t here to state her case. Why is that?”

“She’s too weak to travel. At least this far. Perhaps in time …”

Steepling his fingers, the man shifted in his chair. He sat a moment, staring at a spot on his desk. Gideon could all but see the wheels spinning in his mind.

Finally, the judge spoke. “There’s most likely something to be done here, but I’ll need a little time to resolve this satisfactorily for all parties involved.” He waved a hand to the stack of papers. “But I’ll need several weeks. A month. Possibly more.”

Gideon fought to keep his distress from showing. Instead, he grabbed onto the only certain thing he could. “A month. I’ll be back in a month.” He was already on his feet before the judge could change his mind.

A curt nod. “Come back in thirty days, Mr. O’Riley. We’ll get you back to your wife and son.”

For the first time since entering the building, Gideon felt a burst of hope. “Thank you, sir.” He reached for the judge’s hand and shook it. “Thank you.”

“Is this ready to get loaded?” Gideon hoisted a crate off the merchant’s counter. Tins of spices clanked together. Across the store, Tal was looking at a new pair of cutters with the shop owner’s assistance.

“Yes, that one’s ready to go.” The clerk made a notation in his ledger as Gideon backed out the door.

He carried the crate out onto the sidewalk and slid it into the back of the wagon next to the rest of Tal’s supplies. A tin of baking powder tumbled out and fell. Gideon picked it up, brushed it off, and set it back in its place.

The shop bell clanged as Tal stepped out.

“I better not break anything, or it’ll come out of my pay.”

“You got that right,” Tal said with a laugh in his voice. “Which, if I remember correctly, was half of what I pay my other men.” He slid his hat over graying hair.

“You know, I’m not sure if that offer still stands.”

“Oh, is that so?” Tal clapped him on the back.

“I was a desperate man then.”

Tal arched an eyebrow.

“All right, I’m still desperate. But have pity on a poor soul, will ya?”

Tal chuckled. “I’m sure we can work something out.” He climbed onto the wagon seat, and Gideon lunged up the other side.

“Thank you,” Gideon said seriously. “I appreciate you offering me the work. I need it.”

“It’s my pleasure. You’re a good worker, and I’m glad to have ya. Besides”—he flicked the reins and the wagon lurched into motion—“couldn’t very well leave you to sleep on the sidewalk in Stuart for a whole month.”

Gideon nodded. “And I’m grateful for it.”

The horses settled into an easy pace as Gideon and Tal rode out of town.

Hitching his boot up on the footrest, Tal relaxed into his seat. Gideon folded his arms over his chest and enjoyed the sunshine the day had to offer. Tilting his chin back, he let the rays hit his face. A moment later, he ran his hands down his face, realizing just how much he needed a bath and a shave.

“So tell me. What happened, Gideon?”

With the back of his hand, Gideon scratched his scruffy jaw. When he didn’t answer right away, he felt Tal watching him. Finally, Gideon drew in a chest full of air. He let it out slowly. “I ran into a bit of trouble.”

Tal twisted his mouth to the side. Waiting.

“It’s a really long story.”

“We’ve got the time.”

With a puff of his cheeks, Gideon rubbed at a splinter in his palm. Before he could change his mind, he blurted out the words. “I was married before Lonnie.” There was no sense pretending around Tal. No sense pretending around anyone.

Tal’s eyebrows shot up.

Suddenly warm, Gideon shrugged out of his jacket. He dropped it on the seat and rolled back the cuffs of his shirt until his undershirt poked out
against his forearms. “To a girl I grew up with. Lonnie didn’t know about it. I didn’t tell her because it was supposed to have been annulled. But it wasn’t.”

Tal’s eyebrows shot higher. “How on earth …”

With a tug, Gideon pulled off his hat and tossed it between his boots. “This is why I needed to meet with the judge.” He glanced sideways at his friend. “Like I said, it’s a long story.”

“And like I said”—Tal nodded toward the snowy lane ahead—“we’ve got the time.”

Gideon wasn’t sure how he would tell the story of a selfish man who followed his pleasures, but the words began to come. He told of how, at one time, his lusts had included Cassie. At another, they’d included Lonnie. Never once had he glanced over his shoulder to see what his actions might cost him.

What they would cost others.

And yet, he’d continued down the path of destruction. Of selfishness. The path that led a man to lose everything he’d ever loved, only to gain what he hoped to lose forever. In that moment, he understood heartache.