Be Still My Soul: The Cadence of Grace, Book 1 (17 page)

Jebediah cleared his throat.

“Gideon.” Lonnie gently squeezed his hand.

“Huh?”

“We’re gonna pray,” she whispered.

He quickly dropped his head, and even as Jebediah blessed the food, his cheeks grew warm.

“Well.” Elsie squeezed his hand and opened her eyes. “There’s apple butter, and I got maple syrup warming on the back of the stove.” She rose and returned quickly with a small copper pot. “Everyone help themselves. Don’t be shy, now.” She squeezed Lonnie’s shoulder.

Gideon did as he was ordered and piled a stack of warm hotcakes onto his plate and smeared them with a knifeful of butter. He lifted the
lid away from the cast-iron skillet and paused long enough for Lonnie to help herself to some fried ham. After everyone had taken their share, he stabbed the crispy meat with his fork and loaded up his plate.

He pulled his hands away from his food just long enough for Elsie to drizzle a pool of syrup over the hotcakes. “Thanks.” Wasting no time, he crammed the warm, sticky goodness into his mouth. “This food sure is fine, ma’am.” He chewed and swallowed, knowing his mouth was fuller than it should have been. “It’ll do us good to set out on a full stomach. Not like last time, huh, Lonnie?”

Lonnie lifted her eyes.

His jaw slowed.

“Gid.” Lonnie’s voice was small. She glanced around the table, as if gathering her strength. “Miss Elsie and Jebediah have invited us to stay on a little longer. They think it would be good for me to keep to one spot for a while. Just until I get my strength back up.”

Jebediah nodded his consent. “Makes no sense to rush off.”

Gideon gulped, nearly choking on his food.

“I would like to stay.” Lonnie faced him, her eyes eager.

Jebediah cut in. “Gideon, you ain’t got nowhere to go.” He rested his elbows on each side of his plate.

His food turning to ash in his mouth, Gideon washed it down with lukewarm coffee. He eyed each person at the table. They could have spoken up about this sooner, not mere hours before he was ready to leave. Suddenly annoyed, he struggled to find his voice. “Sir, with all due respect, I know just where we’re headed.”

Jebediah leaned forward. “And where might that be?”

Gideon kept his voice as cool as he could manage. “We were headed for Stuart. Few more days and I reckon we’ll be there. Lonnie and I planned on getting us a little piece of land to build a house …”

A smile broke out beneath Jebediah’s silver mustache. “I’d say you got a little off track somewhere. You gotta backtrack a day and stop following the ridgeline.” He tossed a thumb over his shoulder and Gideon followed it with his eyes but only found a hand-stitched sampler hanging where Stuart apparently sat. “You ain’t far though. Just head on down the mountain.”

“How far did we come?” Gideon leaned forward.

“Well, you came a nice little way from Rocky Knob. Ain’t that where you came from?”

Hiding his frustration took some effort. “But we walked for days and days.”

“Might have been walkin’ in circles.”

Gideon glanced at Lonnie. Shame soured his gut. Most men of twenty-two would have traveled farther than their own front door before this. “So let me get this straight. We went the wrong way?”

Jebediah nodded.

Leaning back in his chair, Gideon sighed.

“We don’t have anywhere else to go,” Lonnie said. She folded her hands in front of her as if the matter were that simple to resolve.

“But we do.” Gideon rose, strode to where his jacket hung by the door, and yanked out the newspaper clipping. He held it out for Jebediah.

The man took it, and his eyes scanned the small scrap. “Hmph.”

“What?”

“This paper’s two months old.”

Gideon snatched it up and checked the date. Sure enough. “Doesn’t mean that it’s not—”

“My neighbor was just in Stuart three weeks ago. Banks are done and two more shops have gone up since then. He said men flooded the
area after they posted this. Hotel filled up after a few days. Some of them were sleepin’ in tents on the outskirts of town. Hardly a job to be found.” He tugged at his beard. “There will be again, mind you. Once things settle down.” He folded the scrap and handed it back to Gideon. “But I wouldn’t be rushin’ in there any time soon.”

Gideon collapsed in his chair. “You mean …” At the defeat he heard in his voice, he fell silent. Every eye was on him, and his ears burned hot. Clenching his jaw, he looked up at Jebediah and forced his tone steady. “Then where are we exactly?”

“Not much of a town to speak of. Folks call this Fancy Gap. Nice little community. Got a church a few miles up the way and a few other odds and ends. That’s about it. We head down the mountain to Mount Airy now and again. That’s where the railroad comes through.”

Jaw clenched, Gideon processed his words. “So if we stay, what’s in it for you?”

Jebediah laughed. “You got yourself an untrusting husband here, Lonnie. And a businessman, I see.” He tipped a tin mug to his lips. “Nothin’ in life’s free, is it, son?”

“No sir.” But Gideon had a feeling Jebediah was teasing him.

Jebediah seemed to collect his thoughts a moment, then cleared his throat. “We aren’t spring chickens anymore. You know as well as I do that me and Elsie can’t keep this farm goin’ much longer.” He fiddled with the handle of his coffee cup, but his gaze was strong. “We need help. We need young hands and strong backs that can keep this place runnin’. And you need a place to stay.” He tapped the table between them. “Come spring, there’s corn to plant and the garden to seed. All summer, there’s enough to keep busy feedin’ the livestock. The grass in the meadow will need to be felled for winter hay, and what little wheat
we seed will have to be harvested and shocked.” He sank back in his chair as if the thought of all that work drained him. He turned to Lonnie. “How does a roof over your head and a warm bed sound to you? Three hot meals every day?”

She moistened her lips. “That’d be right nice, sir.”

Gideon glanced out the window to where the path disappeared into the trees. All he wanted was to hightail it out of here.
Where you going, Gid? In more circles?
He sighed. Lonnie was going to have a baby in the spring. He had no land and no money. No house and not even a tool to his name to build it with. His heart raced faster than his thoughts.

He eyed Jebediah. Doubt made him hesitate, but the man’s offer was better than any his family had given him. With his gaze still settled on the man across from him, he patted his hand on the table. “You got yourself a deal.”

Lonnie straightened, her face brightening.

Gideon did not mirror her enthusiasm. “I mean to
earn
my keep.”

Sliding his coffee cup aside, Jebediah leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that you do.”

T
he massive door clanged against the frame, and Gideon leaned under the weight of it. Jebediah, who had been watching with his arms crossed, stepped forward and held it steady. Gideon grunted as he searched his pocket for the peg. His hand fumbled for the metal piece, and he stuffed it in his mouth just as the door slid to the side.

“Easy.” Sweat trickled down his spine. He hammered the peg into place and knelt. The door slipped.

Jebediah braced himself. “I got it … I got it.” With three quick blows, Gideon pounded the peg all the way through and sat back on his heels. Quickly, he hammered the other.

“Whew.” Jebediah stepped to the side. With a touch of his hand, the door opened and closed smoothly. He grinned. “Nice work.” Jebediah handed him a pair of leather gloves and signaled to the ax hanging on the wall.

Gideon squeezed a tight muscle in his shoulder and didn’t say a word.

“Can you stack it by the porch?”

“Over there?” Gideon pointed to the house.

“Yep, I like to keep wood close to the house during winter.” Jebediah slid his thumbs beneath brown suspenders. “We can keep that stocked when the weather’s good, and when it snows, it will be easy to fill the woodbox.”

It took Gideon a few breaths to gauge the distance from the woodblock to the porch. Thirty paces—at least. Easily a day’s worth of work. “Got a wheelbarrow?”

“Well, I got one, but it’s busted.” Then in a thoughtful voice he added, “You know? That’s something else you could do.” Jebediah glanced around.

Gideon rolled his eyes.
Of course
.

He tugged the gloves from his back pocket and grabbed his first armful of wood. He carried small loads across the yard, starting a new stack against the side of the porch. He rolled a large piece of maple away from the chopping block. With an intricate grain, it was too precious to turn into firewood. He lined up the wood in neat rows, determined to stack only once. In the short time he had known Jebediah, he could tell that if the man was not satisfied, he’d have to start the job over.

Grumbling, Gideon went back for another load. He’d long since lost count. Then an idea hit him. He tore off his gloves to give his sweaty hands a breather, then found Jebediah in the barn. “Where’s that wheelbarrow of yours?”

Jebediah was stooped over, his mule’s hoof in his open palm. “It’s around back. You gonna fix it now?” He spoke without looking up.

“Yep. Figured I could use it.”

Jebediah grunted, and Gideon took it as a dismissal. He found the broken wheelbarrow behind the barn. Weeds hid the handles from sight, and cobwebs had stitched the rusted metal to the side of the
building. After dumping out murky water and a collection of bugs, Gideon wheeled it over to the barn.

It took a few tries, but he finally wrenched the broken handle free. Eying the stub, he tossed it against the woodpile and hunted the work area for something that would fit just as well. He found a straight piece of oak on the far side of the barn and, after peeling off the bark, used his pocketknife to roughly sketch out its new shape.

By the time he had the wood smoothed and sanded, his thumb ached, and the call for dinner pulled his tired feet home under a high sun. He devoured his share of cold sandwiches, washing it down with a glass of milk, then hurried back to the barn. He shaped the handle to the curves of his palm, cradling it every so often to ensure a comfortable fit. The light dimmed in the barn, and nearly finished, Gideon moved closer to the window. When it looked near enough to the real thing, he attached it to the wheelbarrow and wheeled it out to show Jebediah.

“So, what do you think? This will make life a little easier around here now.” The wheel creaked to a stop at Jebediah’s feet, and Gideon blew dust from his hands.

“Looks good.” Jebediah fingered the handle. “But that ain’t my wheelbarrow.” He stepped closer. “It belongs to Gus, my neighbor. He let me borrow it when mine broke, but I somehow busted the handle off of it.”

Gideon stared at him, and Jebediah offered a lopsided grin.

“Thanks for fixing it.” His tone was apologetic. “I’ve been meaning to get around to that. After supper, why don’t you take it over to him, seeing how you’re the one who patched it up and all? I’m sure he’d be pleased to thank you himself.”

Words eluded him. Gideon glanced down at the new handle, freshly
sanded and snugly fit. “This isn’t yours.” It wasn’t a question. Heat crawled along the back of his neck.

Jebediah shook his head. “Mine’s the one with the hole in it. It’s around here somewhere. The rain finally rusted it clear through last year. It’s still good for haulin’ wood, though. Just not much good for smaller stuff.”

Biting his cheek so hard it nearly bled, Gideon scarcely heard Elsie call them in for supper.

The candles had long since been snuffed out, and the scent of smoke faded. Lonnie pulled her pillow closer as she listened to Gideon’s steady breathing. His stiff back was to her, and he didn’t move, not even when she brushed her hand along his shoulder. He’d sat on the parlor sofa after supper, tuning his mandolin. He played a melancholy tune and began another, but after a few strums, he strode upstairs with hardly a word. The instrument now leaned against the chair. Moonlight glinted on the body.

Lonnie kept her voice soft. “Are you awake?”

A brief moment passed until he grunted.

“You tired?”

Another grunt.

“You worked real hard today.” She stared at the ceiling, searching the darkness for words to assign to her thoughts. Words Gideon would welcome and respond to.

He rolled to face her. She did the same and pulled her knees up between them. His eyes glistened, and even in the darkness she knew he was watching her.

“Do you mind staying?” She held her breath for an answer.

Gideon blinked. The sheets rustled as he folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t know.” He hesitated. “I s’pose not. Not exactly what I had in mind, though.” The pillow rustled as he shook his head. “Any job would be easier than working for Jebediah. The man hardly lets me sit down all day.”

“He got you workin’ hard?”

“Hard? He’s makin’ me do
everything
around here.” Gideon lowered his voice, his tone sarcastic. “He’s gonna work me to death, I think.”

Lonnie bit her lip to keep a smile from forming. “Maybe tomorrow will be better.”