Though My Heart Is Torn: The Cadence of Grace, Book 2 (37 page)

Gideon
.

She stared at the curving letters written by her own hand in the midst of her deepest sorrow. Her gaze ran the length of the page—weeks’ worth of prayers and pleas. The words written there Lonnie would never share. Not with Gideon, not with anyone.

The pen sank into the bottle of ink, and she lightly tapped the tip on the edge of the small glass bottle. With a sigh as heavy as her heart, Lonnie smoothed a hand across the third and final page. The pen trembled as she struggled to form a good-bye. After several minutes, the pen slipped from her hand, and she let her head fall into ink-stained palms.

The room had long since fallen under shadow of night. A single candle burned on the nightstand, the tiny flame illuminating Cassie’s face.
Propping his elbows on his knees, Gideon leaned forward. The doctor had come and gone. His words were clear.
“Do your best to keep her fever down. There’s little to be done but watch and wait.”

Gideon lifted his eyes and studied Mary across from him. She was nestled in the rocking chair, but the plaid blanket that covered her drooping shoulders did little to conceal her restless slumber. Gideon did not blame her. He could never sleep. Not now.

“Only time will tell.”
The doctor’s own words.

He lifted the rag from Cassie’s burning skin and dipped it in the bowl of cool water that sat between his knees. He wrung out the cloth, and dripping water was all that broke the silence. Gideon folded the rag carefully and placed it against Cassie’s cheeks with an unspoken prayer that it would draw the fever from her body.

She stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open.

Gideon leaned toward her. “Cassie,” he whispered, not wanting to wake Mary for fear their private moment would come to an abrupt end.

Her lips formed his name.

“You’ve been asleep all day.” He fumbled for the right words, not knowing how long she would be able to steal away from her much needed sleep. “Can I get you some water?”

When she blinked, he snatched a tin mug from the nightstand and held it to her lips. He slipped a hand behind her head and tried to help her up. Her lips parted. His hand trembled. Water dripped and ran down her neck and onto the bed. Swallowing what little water she got, Cassie sank back against her pillow. Her misty eyes searched his.

Knowing this was his chance, Gideon ran a hand along his forehead and braved the words he should have spoken long ago. “I’m so
sorry.” His voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done to you. You deserve so much better than what I’ve given you.”

Cassie blinked again, and the corners of her mouth turned upward in the faintest of smiles. Lowering his face to hers, Gideon kissed her hair. Her eyes closed.

Standing before the fire, Lonnie held the letter out to the open flames. The parlor had long since fallen dark, but the glowing embers in the hearth had offered enough light to finish. The small flame licked at the open air, summoning her to do what must be done. Lonnie hesitated, then, accepting the invitation, she opened her fingers. Three pages sailed from her hand and floated down.

She dropped to her knees and stared as her words caught fire. Words of love. Words of hope. Lost hope. The ivory paper smoked, and the curving lines of black ink were devoured. What once was, was no more. When every brokenhearted word had turned to ash, she sank back.

Elsie shuffled in and stopped beside the burlap sack. “What’s this?”

Lonnie moved away from the fire and laid her hands in her lap. “Just some old clothes.” She tipped her chin up, hoping Elsie wouldn’t notice her tears. “I don’t need them anymore, and I figured I would donate them to the church.”

The woman’s voice was soft. “Toby could take it there for you.”

“That was the idea.” Lonnie held Elsie’s knowing gaze. “I’ll ask him next time he stops by.”

Elsie folded her arms in front of her and stared out the parlor
window. She smoothed her hands up and down her arms and mentioned stoking the fire. Lonnie scarcely caught her words. Instead, it was Elsie’s listless gaze that captured her attention. When Elsie turned to face her, the older woman’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. Although the words never escaped her lips, Lonnie saw that Elsie’s unspoken distress mirrored her own.

It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way
.

“Still no change?” The doctor leaned over Cassie’s bed and studied her through thick spectacles. “What have you been doing for her?”

Gideon blinked up at him through stinging eyes. “Everything you said to do.”

At Henry’s insistence, Eli had gone to fetch the doctor once more.
“I don’t care what it costs. Just get him!”
Henry had slapped Eli’s mount on the rump, and both horse and rider tore through the fog-covered land at dawn. Gideon watched as Eli rode away, back hunched, horse’s hoofs thundering away into silence.

Now, with the doctor at a loss for words, Gideon hung his head. There had to be something he could do for Cassie.

Anything.

The doctor lifted his black leather bag from the floor and set it on the edge of the bed. He pulled out a shiny stethoscope and wrapped the earpieces on each side of his neck before sliding them into his ears. Smoothing two fingers down the silk-lined tubing, he fumbled with the black chest piece before slipping it beneath the collar of Cassie’s nightgown.

Lifting his eyes, he stared at the wall before him. Gideon counted
his own heartbeats as the doctor listened without speaking. Finally, the old man shook his head.

“Too fast,” he murmured.

The morning sun that streamed through the window glistened against shiny metal as the doctor slid the contraption back in his black bag.
Snap
. The bag closed, and the doctor turned to Gideon.

His brown eyes seemed to frown, and his brows fell. He pressed his spectacles against his face with the tip of his finger. “Time will tell.” He averted his gaze. “Keep doing what I told you.”

“That’s it?” Gideon stepped through the bedroom doorway with the doctor close behind. Although Cassie was asleep, he lowered his voice. “Nothing more can be done for her?”

For the first time that morning, the doctor’s gaze bore into Gideon’s. “I’m afraid not.” His words, though gently spoken, were clear.

Gideon ushered the doctor from the small cabin, and the tall, slender man climbed into the saddle of his horse. With a stiff wave, Gideon watched him depart, certain another sickbed required his services. Several others had come down with the fever across the hillsides. Gideon wasn’t the only man to receive dire news.

He ducked inside and paced the short distance to the bedroom. Standing in the doorway, he watched Cassie sleep. Her ma had spent hours combing her hair, and now the unbound strands draped over her shoulders. To the doctor, she was just one of many. Gideon stuffed his fists into his pants pockets and continued to stare at the woman fighting for her life.

And to me?

He sank into the chair at the bedside and crossed his arms. Leaning forward he rested his elbows on his knees.

“Cassie?” His raspy voice broke the stillness.

Her ashen lips did not part in the smile he hungered to see.

“The doc just left. But I’m here. I’ll take care of you.” He took her limp hand in his and rubbed small circles across her smooth skin with his thumb. With her round mouth slightly parted, her chest rose and fell slowly beneath her nightgown. Mary came and went. Once. Twice. Gideon didn’t move. He glanced to the nightstand, spotting Cassie’s scarlet ribbon coiled beside the candleholder. Taking it, he rested his forearms on his knees. The ribbon was silk in his fingers.

He wished he were stronger. Wiser. A stronger man would pray. A wiser man would have the words. Not the growl of a bear in his chest. The desire to fight against whatever it was that made these things happen. Fingers interlocked, Gideon gripped the back of his neck. So here he sat. A thousand questions filling his mind. If Jebediah were here, he’d know what to do. He’d say something about the Lord’s will. And that it might be done.

Gideon hung his head, not sure what to make of that. He yearned for just one minute at the man’s side, sawdust scattered about their boots, Jebediah’s sage advice filling the air with a husky reverence. Heart thundering, Gideon wished with all his might that the man’s voice might cross the miles. For he was in desperate need of guidance.

Cassie heard him say her name, but other than the familiar word, she heard so much more. Did he love her? Could it be? Trapped in a restless slumber, she wished she had the strength to wake, if only to open her eyes long enough to voice what had never been wanted or desired.
I love you, Gideon
.

Her flesh was on fire. She squirmed, but there was no escaping the prison her body had become.
Is this the end?
Was God going to take her away from this life? Cassie tried to swallow, but her burning throat was too dry. Tears stung her eyes, and her hand twitched where it lay at her side, but she had no strength to wipe them away.

She wanted to see his face one last time. She struggled to open her eyes, but it was useless. Overwhelmed by fear, she could scarcely breathe, and she forced down a cry lest it choke her.
Wake up!
She was a fool to hope, but she had to try.

“Cassie.”

She knew that voice. Oh, how she loved that voice.

Gideon, I’m here
.

Sorrow crushed her chest until it burned. Cassie gasped and felt a hot tear slip from the corner of her eye, only to slide toward her pillow. She felt herself drift away.