Be Still My Soul: The Cadence of Grace, Book 1 (14 page)

“Who’s that fella with you?” He flicked his head back. “He your husband?” Gray eyebrows pinched together.

Lonnie stared at the trail. “That’s Gideon. We got married a few weeks ago and have been heading toward Stuart.”

The older man stopped, giving her a moment to catch her breath. He lifted his face and stood silent for several moments. He looked down at Lonnie, his eyes tight, almost apologetic. Then, turning, he faced Gideon, his voice stern. “I’ll take that pack there, young man.”

One eyebrow lifted as Gideon let the pack slide off his shoulder.

Jebediah loosened his grip on Lonnie’s arm. “This little lady’s all tuckered out, and we’re headin’ uphill a good ways. She’s not gonna make it on her own.”

Lonnie’s heart skipped a beat, and she stared up at him.

But Jebediah continued. “My back ain’t much for carrying.” His eyes flashed over Lonnie. “Though I don’t think she could weigh more than a few pounds. Who’s been feedin’ her?”

Gideon set his jaw. “We’ve been doing fine, sir.”

Jebediah grunted. “I’d have to be dumber’n a sack of rocks to believe that.” He pulled Lonnie’s arm from his neck.

“No, I can walk just fine.” She forced a weak smile and started uphill. Jebediah fell in step beside her. She heard Gideon lumber along. Lonnie slipped, but Jebediah was quick to grab her elbow. He held it as
they walked on. When her head grew so light she had to pause, Lonnie felt Jebediah’s arm around her waist.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine.” She set her gaze on the trail ahead. She was not about to let Gideon carry her. He’d probably just toss her into the bushes the first chance he got. With a fire under her feet, she strode on. Her jaw ached, and blinking, she fought to keep the world in focus. Jebediah spoke to her again, his voice distant. She swayed. Jebediah barked an order, and Lonnie blinked again, certain he wasn’t speaking to her. She felt an arm slide behind her knees, and in a
whoosh
of breath, she was lifted off the ground.

The arms were too long to be Jebediah’s, and the breathing in her ear too familiar. Her skin crawled at Gideon’s touch, but her head spun and a wave of nausea rose in her stomach. She swallowed the taste and forced herself to take one deep breath after another. All the days of walking and climbing seemed to flood her limbs, and her eyelids fluttered closed. She forced them open when they stepped into a small clearing. The light blinded her and played with the unease in her stomach. With each jolting step, Gideon’s chest heaved. The bounce of his step made her eyes close once more, and her head fell limp against his rigid chest.

The rain only misted now, making it easier for Gideon to keep his footing. Lonnie grew heavier by the minute. He was tired too. Did no one care? Still, he wasn’t about to let some crusty hobo cart off his wife. They’d been doin’ just fine until the old man had appeared out of nowhere with his stupid shotgun and perfect aim. When the back of
Gideon’s head throbbed, he bristled as he eyed Jebediah, who trudged a few paces ahead. When the man looked at him again, Gideon tried to appear contrite. Whatever that looked like.

When Jebediah rolled his eyes, Gideon knew the old man would need more convincing than that.

His frustration rose afresh, and he forced himself to snuff it out. He knew all too well where that took him. They all did. He glanced again at Jebediah, who was watching his every move.

With Lonnie’s eyes closed and her cheek pressed to his shoulder, Gideon felt his throat burn. When she stirred, he shifted her weight, knowing that if she woke, her heartbeat would quicken against his chest. He couldn’t blame her.

The metal barrel that bobbed from the crook of Jebediah’s elbow gleamed in the sunlight—a silent warning with each bouncing step. Gideon studied the old man, still stunned that he had crept up on them.
Crazy old goat
. Gideon’s eyes instinctively narrowed.

“We’re almost there. How you holding out, little lady?” A tiny waterfall trickled off the brim of Jebediah’s hat when he turned.

Gideon slowed, trying to maintain his distance. “She’s asleep.”

The man looked at her kindly. Gideon cringed at the marks that tainted her skin.

“Well, we’re almost home.”

Fighting the urge to turn and carry Lonnie away, Gideon put one foot in front of the other. As much as it pained him to follow Jebediah, he didn’t seem to have much of a choice. Gideon lowered his chin and peered at his wife, her eyes closed in long-needed slumber. The red scrape on her chin scarcely concealed a forming bruise. A muscle pulsed in his jaw.

How far would you have gone?

His footsteps slowed.

A groan rose in the back of his throat, and he swallowed it away lest he frighten her. He felt worse with every step and cringed when Lonnie tightened her grip and her mouth brushed against his coat. Her breathing was faint and steady.

“There’s home,” Jebediah called, tearing Gideon from his thoughts.

They stepped into a yard that framed the largest house Gideon had ever seen. Whitewashed boards rose two stories, ending in a peaked roof with uniform shingles.
Hmph. Some hobo
.

“Elsie!” Jebediah hollered. “We’ve got company.”

The screen door squeaked open. “Afternoon, folks.” A round-faced woman stepped onto the porch, her hands resting on thick hips wrapped in a red apron. “What do we have here?” She offered Gideon a warm smile as she came down the steps. Then her gaze shifted. “Lord a mercy,” she whispered. Slanted eyes, the color of a copper pot, narrowed beneath soft eyelids. “What happened to her?”

Gideon swallowed.

“She had a rough tumble down a hill.” Jebediah motioned Gideon toward the house, a warning in the old man’s eyes.

“Well, I’d say so. Get her inside before it starts pourin’ again.” She hurried toward the porch, and her shoes padded up the steps. Gideon followed close behind.

Elsie shoved the kettle onto the stove and tightened her apron strings. “We need to get her cleaned up.” She waved Gideon forward and led him through the kitchen and into the front parlor.

At Elsie’s bidding, Gideon laid Lonnie on a floral print sofa and stepped back. The older woman sank to her knees and smoothed a plump hand over Lonnie’s muddy forehead.

“What’s her name?”

“Lonnie, ma’am.”

“She doesn’t look so well. How far did she fall?”

“Not far,” Jebediah muttered behind him.

Elsie cupped Lonnie’s chin and gently moved her head from side to side. Her fingertips smoothed over the scrapes. Elsie spoke to her husband, but her eyes nailed Gideon into place. “Jeb, get the soap, will ya? And I’ll sponge her down a bit.”

Gideon shifted.

Elsie lowered her ear to Lonnie’s chest, then pressed a thumb to her wrist. She stared at the grandfather clock. “There’s somethin’ more,” she murmured as seconds ticked by.

“She hasn’t been feeling well lately.” Gideon knelt beside her.

“For how long?”

He stared into the old woman’s face. “Few days. Few weeks, maybe.”

“Hmm.”

“She’s seemed tired lately and sleepin’ a whole lot.” He fiddled with the cuff of his shirt even as shame burned his ears. “You see, we’ve been travelin’ by foot and she’s had a rough time keeping up.”

Elsie sat back on her heels. “Why didn’t you stop and rest?”

“We’ve been trying to get to Stuart.” The pendulum above his head swung from side to side as if to taunt him. “We’re in sort of a hurry.”

“I see.” Her tone said otherwise.

Gideon’s fingertips grazed the fabric of the couch near Lonnie’s hand.

Elsie looked up at him. “Why don’t you head out and see if Jebediah needs any help. I’ll sit with Lonnie, see if I can’t get her to stir.” She smiled down at Lonnie. “I hope you’ll both stay for supper.”

A warm hand pushed hair away from her face, and Lonnie felt her cheek wedged against something soft. Someone spoke her name, the voice too sweet to be Jebediah’s or Gideon’s. Lonnie opened her eyes and flinched.

“Shh.”

A pair of soft eyes cradled her face. “Didn’t mean to startle you, Lonnie.” An old woman sat beside her. “My name’s Elsie. I’m Jebediah’s wife.”

Lonnie’s body complained when she sat up. Elsie tucked a pillow behind her back, and Lonnie sank into it. She swallowed, and her mouth was as dry as sand.

“Can I get you anything?”

“A drink of water?” Her voice came out raspy, and Lonnie cleared her throat.

Elsie patted her hand. “I’ll be right back.” She disappeared, and Lonnie blinked, taking the room in. She peered down at the sofa where her hand rested on a thick, floral print.

When Elsie returned with a small cup, she sat beside Lonnie. “Can I get you anything else? Are you hungry?”

Lonnie shook her head. She sipped the water, and it cooled her mouth. “Thank you,” she said, staring into the cup.

The woman smoothed Lonnie’s hair off her shoulder, and she gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “You had a rough go of it, I’d say.”

Lonnie nodded when emotion welled in the back of her throat, followed by another wave of nausea.

“Sure I can’t get you anything else?” Elsie’s eyes widened when Lonnie pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “Sure you’re all right?”

“I think so.” Lonnie forced her hand into her lap, but her stomach still churned.

Ducking her head, Elsie peered into her face. “Honey, you don’t need to be frightened. I’m here to help you.”

“I fear I’m gonna be sick.”

A cool hand pressed against Lonnie’s cheek.

“You’re a bit pale.” Elsie rushed off, and within a minute’s time, she returned with a bowl of warm water. A plate was tucked in her other hand. She set it in Lonnie’s lap, and Lonnie peered down at a slice of buttered bread. Elsie lifted a damp cloth and dabbed the side of Lonnie’s face.

Lonnie winced.

“Sorry, dear.”

The sofa was soft, and Lonnie wanted to close her eyes again. She pressed her head to the back of the cushion and sighed. Her body seemed to melt. She lifted the bread to her mouth and took a small nibble. Her nostrils flared, and the food turned sour in her mouth. It must have shown in her face, for Elsie jumped up again and rushed back with a metal bowl. Lonnie held the bowl to her chest and forced herself to take slow, steady breaths.

Elsie’s eyebrows fell as she studied Lonnie. “How long have you been feelin’ this way?”

“Few days. Maybe a week.” Lonnie clutched the bowl tighter and pressed a hand to her ribs where her stomach complained.

“Is it possible that you are …?”

Lonnie’s chin trembled, and she turned her face to the side. Elsie took hold of her hand. Lonnie’s shoulders shook in a silent sob. She blinked her dry eyes and stared at the far wall. “It’s possible.”

“Have you had any other signs?” When Lonnie nodded, Elsie
squeezed her hand. “A baby is a blessing.” Her tone was encouraging, and when Lonnie looked into Elsie’s face, she saw nothing but kindness.

“For some.”

Elsie tucked a strand of hair behind Lonnie’s ear. “But not for you?” The soft words, void of judgment, made Lonnie tighten her grip on Elsie’s hand as if never to let go.

“I don’t see how a baby could help anything.”

With a slow, shaky sigh, Elsie wrapped another hand around Lonnie’s. “How about this? You rest awhile. Got a nice bed upstairs with your name on it.” Her smile was warm. “I’ve got a broth simmering on the stove, and I’ll bring you some if you feel up to eating. You and your husband are welcome to stay the night. Give you a chance to rest up a bit.” She gave Lonnie a reassuring squeeze. “And when you’re feelin’ a little better, we’ll move on to the next step.”

Telling Gideon
. Lonnie gulped, but unable to resist Elsie’s offer, she nodded.

L
ooking for Jebediah was no use. The man had vanished. Gideon had been walking in circles for the last half hour, and after trying the barn once more, he gave up and strode back to the house. He rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles. Elsie’s face appeared behind the glass, and she opened it.

“Just sent your wife upstairs for a lie-down.” She motioned for him to come in. “I was going to bring her up a bowl of broth.” She spoke over her shoulder, apron strings bouncing as she scooted through the kitchen.