Read Though My Heart Is Torn: The Cadence of Grace, Book 2 Online
Authors: Joanne Bischof
Cassie lifted the lid of the dutch oven, and a cloud of steam, thick with the smell of onions and broth, greeted him.
He hoped not much conversation would be required of him.
“I hope it tastes all right.” She filled their bowls. “It’s just vegetables.”
“I’ll try to get some meat tomorrow.” He knew of a good spot up the way. At least it used to be good.
Cassie sipped from her spoon. “Sure.” Her voice was gentle, but not eager.
Careful to keep his eyes on his bowl, Gideon lifted broth to his lips.
They ate in silence. The only sound was the clanging of their spoons against black enamel. He swallowed another bite but could not swallow the sinking feeling in his stomach.
She seemed to study him, and he braved a glance. Her eyes danced
as she searched his. She set her spoon down and folded her hands in her lap.
“Joel tricked you, didn’t he?”
The man’s name made his feet grow cold. Gideon smoothed a hand over his unshaven jaw and nodded.
Cassie fiddled with the edge of her ribbon. “That wasn’t what I had in mind.”
Sure it wasn’t.
“When my ma found the papers, the ones I hadn’t turned in, she was furious with me.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Furious.” Cassie set her spoon down. “She told my pa right away. He and my brothers got so stirred up. It all went out of hand from there.”
Gideon was glad he hadn’t been around. “So this wasn’t your idea?”
“Not really.”
“But it’s awful convenient, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t exactly have a lot of options.” Sass leaked into her tone. “Once they found out, they took the matter straight to Reverend Gardner, furious at the mix-up. It was all over then. Word spreads quickly among listening ears.”
How he knew it. He was certain her reputation had been destroyed within the week.
The way she studied him, eyes filled with sorrow, confirmed it. But he wouldn’t feel sorry for Cassie. She didn’t deserve it.
“Why didn’t you go through with it?” He hated how weak his voice was. “You wanted to put an end to this.” He motioned between them. “Why couldn’t you have meant it? Why did you have to let me—”
She tugged on her earlobe, and the shrug she offered fueled the fire in him.
“Are you saying you have no good reason for why those documents didn’t make it to the courthouse?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then I’m all ears, Cassie. Tell me one thing. Did you know that I was going to marry Lonnie?”
She didn’t move.
He waited.
Finally, she nodded.
“And yet you said nothing? Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you speak up?”
“I was scared.”
“I keep hearing that! Scared of what?”
Silence crushed the air between them.
After a long breath, he spoke. “You didn’t know what you wanted, did you?”
She looked away.
“Well, thanks so very much for pulling me down with you.”
She straightened, leaning forward so quickly she nearly bumped her bowl. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t know what I wanted, and I thought I could figure it out.”
“I
married
her, Cassie. I married her.” His voice hitched. “Did you not see what a big deal that was?”
Her eyes fell.
He gripped his cup so tight he was glad it wasn’t glass.
“I don’t know what to say to make this better,” she said softly.
“That’s because nothing you could say will make this better.”
Small boots brushed his, and Gideon pulled his feet back. She studied him, a glassy look in her eyes. Regret clear in her face. A tornado raged inside his chest as he watched her.
“So here we sit,” he said.
“Here we sit.” Her spoon hovered motionless above her bowl.
“I’m not going to love you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“Then good.”
“There’s the pass.” Lonnie pointed to a cluster of trees. They did not look out of the ordinary. Still, she recognized the curve in the road and the slope of the mountain, and she knew that just past those russet oaks, one could cross only on foot. To get a cart and horse around would mean more than a day’s journey. Lonnie eyed the narrow path, rutted and sloped by rain storms. Elliot’s arthritic legs could not carry them through. She would go on alone.
Lord, be my strength
. Never in her life had she been alone.
Sarah stared in the same direction, and when Lonnie glanced at her dear aunt, the older woman’s eyes were tender. Lonnie’s chest tightened. She stared at the small path ahead, studied the mass of scraggly oaks, and prayed Jebediah would be waiting on the other side.
Sarah flicked the reins. “Git on up!”
Elliot lumbered toward where the path narrowed, then the cart stilled. Sarah lowered the reins. Lonnie glanced over her shoulder and saw that both Addie and Jacob were fast asleep. Curled beneath a tattered afghan, neither stirred when the cart settled back on its rickety wheels.
“Might as well let them rest.” She turned forward and sighed. Lonnie trusted that if Jebediah were truly at the bottom of the hill, he would not mind waiting another hour.
“So I suppose this is it,” Sarah said. The breeze played with a loose strand of her ginger hair, sending it dancing across her lightly freckled forehead. She tucked the lock behind her ear. “You know … it was hard enough having you leave me once. But twice.” She shook her head and fell silent. A tear crawled down her ruddy cheek. Lonnie rarely saw her aunt cry. The confession made her love the woman even more.
Lonnie squeezed Sarah’s hand. “I’m gonna miss you more than ever.”
Sarah’s soft bun shook when she bobbed her head. “Look at me. A silly woman.” She wiped her eyes with the hem of her apron and chuckled. “Guess I’m not as good at good-byes as I thought I was.”
“I hope you’ll visit someday. It would be nice to have family around.” Since Gideon could not love her, anyone who could would be welcome company.
Drawing in a deep breath, Sarah’s eyes narrowed beneath the weight of her words. “That man of yours—”
Lonnie raised her hand. “Aunt Sarah. Gideon isn’t my—”
Sarah caught hold of Lonnie’s wrist and pressed it down. “I don’t care what you say or what
they
say, but if I must, I’ll just call him Gideon.” Her voice softened, and she picked up Lonnie’s hand, folding it inside her silky palm. “You two have gone through what no couple should ever be forced to do.” Sarah, a woman who had never married, who had never found her own true love, closed her eyes, and the lines in her face drew sharp. “It
angers
me to see it happen. I know it’s what should be and what
must
be … but that don’t make it any less wrong in my heart.” Her voice trailed off, and she turned away.
Wishing her aunt did not have to water the small bud of desire for
a man she could not have, Lonnie pulled her hand free. “Yes,” she stated. “But I’m afraid it’s too late. Now
Cassie
is Gideon’s wife.”
The reins fell from Sarah’s grasp. She chucked her skirt up to her calves and spun toward Lonnie. She waved a fist in the air. “You’ve got fight in you. I know it—”
“No!” Lonnie snapped. “There’s no use.” Her voice cracked. “Perhaps he’s made her his wife by now.”
A sorrowful shadow crossed over her aunt’s face, and Lonnie looked away.
She eyed the pass that separated her from more than her aunt Sarah. Soon, it would separate her from Gideon. She took a deep breath.
If there had been any other way
.
A cool breeze stirred their skirts, and Lonnie felt the chill of the late afternoon on her arms. After a long silence, Sarah put her hand over her niece’s. “Lonnie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have waited until now to voice my opinions. I don’t know what came over me.” She touched Lonnie’s cheek. “I admire your courage.”
Lonnie fiddled with the tin wedding ring in her apron pocket. “I’m just doing what has to be done. There’s nothing courageous about that.”
Sarah wrapped an arm around her. She formed her words slowly, and they seemed to hang in the quiet stillness around them. “Sometimes duty takes courage. Oftentimes, more than we think we have.”
Lonnie scaled the narrow path with Jacob snug in his sling. A gentle tug on Sugar’s line and the old mule plodded along, their two sacks draped over her sloped back. Addie clung to Lonnie’s skirt. Lonnie
glanced over her shoulder to where Sarah stood at the edge of the ravine. She heard not a sound as she listened for Jebediah’s presence.
Lord, let him be here
.
Then she saw him.
Smoke swirled around the man in the plaid coat. Having been busy tending his fire, he rose to a stand. Even from a distance, his smile was broad. Lonnie glanced back, and Sarah waved from the top of the hill. Her patchwork skirt flapped in the breeze, and she wiped her hands across her eyes.
“Good-bye,” Lonnie whispered. She waved. The late afternoon shadows blocked out the sun, and even though she’d slipped into Gideon’s flannel coat, she shivered. When Sarah disappeared from the ledge, Lonnie strained to listen until she heard her aunt holler out a command to Elliot. Lonnie prayed that some of her aunt’s strength had been planted like a seed inside her.
“Who’s that?” Addie interrupted Lonnie’s thoughts.
Lonnie squeezed the small hand inside hers. “That’s Jebediah. He’s a kind man. You will like him.” When Jacob saw Jebediah, she could hardly hold the boy, who nearly squirmed from her grasp. She lifted him from the sling.
With the gait of a man half his age, Jebediah rushed forward and engulfed both Lonnie and Jacob in a tobacco-scented hug. The bristles of his beard tickled her cheek. Crushed beneath his strength, she instantly felt at home. Pulling back, Jebediah caught Jacob as he dove toward him.
“There’s my boy,” he said with a wide grin.
Jacob patted Jebediah’s cheek and bounced up and down.
“We missed you,” Lonnie sighed.
“And I missed both of you.” Jebediah looked down at Addie, who huddled at Lonnie’s side. “And who’s this?”
Lonnie stepped back. “This is Addie. My little sister.” Lonnie watched Jebediah’s face for a reaction as she continued. “Would you and Elsie mind if she stayed with us for a while?”
“You kiddin’? Elsie’ll be thrilled.” Jebediah’s eyes softened when he looked down at Addie. “She always wanted a full house.” Jebediah pinched Addie’s cheek, and the little girl stepped behind her sister.
Undeterred, Jebediah winked. “That’s all right. An old grizzly like me … well, I don’t blame the girl.” He knelt and his grin widened. “Would you like to come sit by the fire? You look like you could use a molasses cookie. Elsie made them fresh.”
Like a child on Christmas morning, Addie’s eyes widened with surprise. She nodded eagerly and her dark curls bobbed. She darted toward the campsite without her host. Jebediah followed, Jacob pressed to his chest. Addie sank onto a blanket, and Jebediah lowered Jacob next to her. After pulling two cookies from a dented tin, he handed one to each of them. Addie immediately took a bite, but Jacob rolled his cookie around on the blanket before taking a small taste.
Lonnie watched the joyful trio, but what little peace had tried to spread its wings in her heart was shattered when her torment returned. Unable to move, she stood frozen. The air pressed on her.
Jebediah turned. “Lonnie? You all right?”
She’d held her tears at bay as long as she could. She was tired of trying to be strong. “No.”
“Oh, Lonnie.” He strode back, and his hands cupped her arms.
She pressed her forehead to his shoulder. Her throat burned. “I’m so frustrated.”
Jebediah placed a hand against her head, and his voice was low. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”
Her head slid against his coat as she shook her head. “He’s gone, Jebediah. He’s really gone. Why did this happen?”
Standing in the presence of Jebediah—the one man who truly loved and shaped her husband, helped mold him into the man she loved—Lonnie felt the loss of Gideon afresh. Sobs overtook her. “It’s gotta be a bad dream.” She clutched the fabric of Jebediah’s coat.
Jebediah’s voice remained soft. “You did what you had to do.”
She pulled back. “I keep hearing that! Why did he do this? Why couldn’t things just have turned out well?” She shook her head so fiercely, curls tumbled from her bun. “I didn’t ask for this.”