Though My Heart Is Torn: The Cadence of Grace, Book 2 (14 page)

“And you no longer think it is?”

He glanced at her, his expression earnest. “Is it?” He lifted his head from the wall. “Tell me now if it is.” His eyes were hungry as they flooded with hope.

The word
yes
slid to the tip of her tongue. But she tucked it back. He was too close. She needed air. “How about a walk?” she blurted.

“That would be nice.”

She rose and handed Jacob to Gideon.

Without speaking, he slipped his free hand against her back. Her eyes shifted to the house, but only for a moment. With Gideon’s hand warm against her apron strings, he guided her forward. They crossed the footbridge over the creek and worked their way through the small meadow, their footsteps but a whisper on the path.

The land rose and Gideon held Jacob fast. The little boy woke, rubbing his sleepy face against his pa’s shoulder. Together they climbed. Gideon’s heart beat faster. The farther they drew from the farm, the more his hope grew. She hadn’t said yes to his question … but she hadn’t said no.

“How ’bout here?” Lonnie pointed to a soft spot where the noon sun feathered through the trees.

The leaves crunched beneath their boots as they circled the small opening. Lonnie sank to the ground. Her skirts billowed around her. Gideon placed Jacob in the soft fabric of her lap and settled beside his wife and son.

He played with a dry leaf in his hand. She voiced her heartache. Her questions. He answered with every shred of honesty that was in him. She spoke of days gone by, and he felt himself smile. She shared her fears. Each one pierced him. He wanted to throw them to the wind. Blow each one to smithereens with a shotgun. But he couldn’t. He could only listen and nod, give what little comfort he could form into words. His fingers grazed hers. How he wished it were more.

And more than once she reached for his hand, only to tuck her own beneath her skirt.

The afternoon moved quickly. Too quickly. The sun danced across Lonnie’s chestnut hair, making it shine—making Gideon wish he could run his fingers through the silky strands. Jacob crawled around, picked up leaves and twigs, then stuck them in his eager mouth. As they watched their son’s explorations, they laughed and exchanged smiles. More than once, Gideon found himself lost in such delight, he almost forgot the purpose of this outing. Almost forgot what sat waiting for him come sunrise.

The sun made a slow arc. Their time was drawing to an end.

“We should probably head back. It’s gonna get dark soon.”

Gideon knew he could delay his plea no longer.

Lonnie brushed dried grass from her skirt. She scooped Jacob in her arms. “Look at you, my wee thing.” Her words were light, but her voice held a thousand sorrows.

Gideon took hold of her hand, and with surprise in her face, Lonnie watched the action. “Please,” he whispered. “Let me say this. I—”

A twig snapped. A gritty voice followed.

Gideon scrambled up and crouched in front of Lonnie. In the distance, leaves rustled beneath heavy boots.

“Step back,” Gideon whispered. He pressed her behind himself. When Jacob fussed, Lonnie shushed him. Another twig snapped and then another. Gideon peered in the direction of the noise. Figures approached. Men by the looks of it—but he could not see their faces. As they moved between stands of trees, patches of russet flannel and faded green cotton, hand dyed and homespun, came toward them. Familiar colors worn by the men whom Gideon had come to consider his enemies.

Narrow brown eyes locked with his.
Eli Allan
. Gideon’s hand instinctively twitched as he remembered his rifle that he’d left back home.

Eli used the tip of his gun to point in Gideon’s direction. He closed one eye in mock aim. “Whatcha doin’ all the way out in the woods like this?”

The men drew closer, and Gideon made out each face. Henry. Samuel. Jack. Then he spotted a face that made his stomach sour.
Joel Sawyer
. They circled quickly, and Gideon counted the faces. Five against one. His eyes dropped to the guns that each man held, and all he could think about was his family behind him.

“Lonnie, what are you doing?” Joel asked, the barrel of his gun a shiny reminder of whose side he was on.

“This isn’t necessary,” Lonnie said coolly.

“It’s necessary if I say it is.”

Gideon’s pulse quickened.

Lonnie squared her shoulders and set Jacob down for the briefest of moments. She rose, and a waterfall of leaves slid from her skirt. She picked up Jacob and held him close.

“Reverend Gardner asked that the two of you meet him at the church tomorrow morning. He would like to resolve the situation as soon as possible. And frankly,” Joel added, “I would too. Get back to the house.”

Lonnie stepped around him, gingerly taking each stride on the uneven hillside. “I’ll head back when I’m good and ready.”

Joel grabbed her arm, yanking her toward him. Jacob’s head lurched.

Lunging forward, Gideon shoved the man, using his shoulder to barrel him to the ground. Joel’s head slammed against the forest floor, and scrambling to his knees, Gideon struck his stomach as hard as he could. He grabbed Joel’s collar and, forgetting his bad shoulder, pulled his arm back—but his fist never came back down.

Pain seared through the back of his head, and Gideon fell forward—the crack of steel against his skull echoed in his ears.

Somewhere in the distance, Lonnie screamed.

Rolling onto his side, Gideon grabbed his head. His fingers felt something warm and wet. He blinked, but the world blurred. Before he could bring his eyes into focus, someone yanked him to his feet.

Strong arms held him. The angry fingers that clamped around his arms dug into his flesh. Eli grabbed Gideon by the hair and lifted his head. Their eyes met. Gideon stared into the face of Cassie’s brother. Her defender. His childhood friend.

The cold end of Eli’s sawed off shotgun pressed against Gideon’s temple.

His heart thundered, but he locked gazes with his oldest friend.

Eli’s eyes, once soft with kindness, were now brown slits beneath uneven brows. Gideon gulped. They had grown up together, fishing in the summer months and hunting all winter long. Now those days were nothing but a blur.

“You’ve ruined my sister.” Eli spat out the words. “You used her!” he shouted. His eyes narrowed, and the rough-edged gun dug into Gideon’s skin. “I should shoot you like the dog you are.”

Gideon had no words to deny what he’d done. The grip on his hair tightened.

Cassie’s brother glared at him in disgust.

“Eli,” Jack murmured, laying a hand on his brother’s thick arm. “Ease up, will ya?”

Eli shook his head, tightened his grip on Gideon’s hair, and cocked the gun with a
click
. Gideon closed his eyes and heard nothing other than Lonnie’s crying.

Jack’s voice was sharp. “Eli, stop. This isn’t the way to settle this.”

Gideon opened his eyes in time to see Jack reach for the shotgun.

“He’ll do right by Cassie.” Jack’s eyes met Gideon’s, and the severity of his words struck Gideon like a blow to the chest. “Won’t you?”

Gideon swallowed as the steel warmed to his skin. A bullet still lurked inside the barrel. Eli’s words tore through him.
“You’ve ruined my sister.”
Gideon knew what his reply would cost him.

But when Eli’s trigger finger twitched, Jacob’s face flashed through his mind.

“I’ll do right by Cassie,” Gideon blurted. “You have my word.” He slammed his eyes closed.

With that simple phrase, he gave up everything.

And what had he gained?
Cassie
. His first bride. She had given herself to him completely. Gideon cringed, wishing it had all been a bad dream.
You fool
.

Eli did not release him. Jack laid his other hand on the barrel of the gun. “You heard him, Eli. He’ll make good on his word.”

Furious eyes blinked, then softened with a brother’s sorrow. Eli lowered his gun.

Gideon did not care about Eli. He did not care about the gun. Turning to look at Lonnie, he saw the despair in her ashen face.
I’m sorry
. He wanted to wrap his hands around her heart—fend off the pain. Take it. Bear it.

Yet her chin trembled. And he was the cause.

Seemingly satisfied, Eli turned away. He paced back down the hillside without another word. Jack followed close on his brother’s heels. Gideon stood motionless as one by one the men started away.

Lonnie stood there, waiting. Neither one spoke.

Finally, Gideon nodded toward the east. “Let’s get you home.”

She shook her head. “I’m not leaving you like this.”

He started to protest, but she flashed him a look that kept him silent. “Very well then.”

The candle burned low and did little to light the chilly workshop. Gideon sat on the edge of the bench. He tried to keep still as Lonnie dabbed at the back of his head with a damp rag.

“Does this sting?” She rinsed the tattered cloth in the wooden bowl on her lap.

“A little.”

“Good.”

He grinned, then winced. “You’re welcome to take a swing. I promise I won’t move.”

She dabbed at his skin, her touch gentle. “That’s actually quite tempting.” She pressed her fingertips to his collar, which was unbuttoned and folded back to his shoulders. Blood splatters stained the left side. “I just wish I understood why,” she whispered.

“I do too.” He caught her small hand still pressed to his shoulder, engulfing it in his own. “I have no excuses for not telling you. I wish I could say that it was the farthest thing from my mind, that all I wanted to do was win your heart, not break it. But I know those reasons are not enough. Lonnie, I would do anything to earn your forgiveness.”

Murky water sloshed onto her ticking-striped apron. Lonnie pursed her lips and dropped the rag in the bowl.

“You’ll agree to the annulment then.” It was not a question.

The answer came out of his numb heart. “In the morning.”

Her words hinted at uncertainty. “The morning.” She looked more grown than she ever had to him.

But she was too young for such heartache.

Lonnie lifted the rag, and water trickled from the twisted fabric. Several droplets slid down her pale wrist. Unable to look her in the face, Gideon suddenly found himself entranced with the thin frame of her hands.

Somehow he had to let her go.

“I’ll stay here with my pa,” she whispered, her voice tight.

Gideon lifted his gaze. He saw the lines in her weary face, the wideness of her uncertain eyes. She was putting up a wall. The pieces had formed block by block since Reverend Gardner had broken the vile news.

He looked away and shook his head. “No, you won’t. You’ll go home.”

Lonnie’s voice filled with surprise. “To Jebediah’s?”

Staring at his lap, Gideon nodded.

“But what about Jacob? You won’t see him—” His fingers on her lips silenced her. Lowering his hand, he let it rest in the soft folds of her skirt.

“And I will love him forever. Just as I’ll love you.” He did not have much time to make her see his heart.

Lonnie dropped her forehead in her hand. “Gideon, you can’t promise that.”

He turned on the bench, facing her. “I can and I will.”

“I can’t be that far away,” she choked. “Jacob needs his—”