My Hope Is Found

by Joanne Bischof

  Taking each stair as soundlessly as he could, Gideon turned the corner to the bedroom and stood just outside. With her head pressed to the back of the rocker, Lonnie’s eyes were fixed on Toby’s face. A sleeping Jacob nestled in the folds of her apron, his round chin pressed against his little sweater. The sun streaming through the window glinted on the plaits of Lonnie’s braid. Gold. Honey.

  Using his knuckles, Gideon rapped softly on the doorjamb and stepped into the room.

  Lonnie’s mouth parted.

  With quiet movements, Gideon held a finger to his lips, then moved a chair to the other side of the bed and sat facing her. He glanced at Toby. The man’s face told a story of pain. Gideon gritted his teeth. Feeling Lonnie’s eyes on him, the back of Gideon’s throat burned. He’d tried to divide his heart before—tried to separate Lonnie from all that was in and through him. Could he do it this time? Truly do it? God, I don’t know the answer. Might as well start off with honesty.

  It was beyond him how to take the next steps alone if that was what was required of him. He didn’t know how to find that kind of strength, but he knew where it lived. And it was in that moment that everything he knew he needed flooded him. Would God be enough? For him? Gideon folded his hands, and his knees pressed into his forearms.

  He stared down at Toby. The man’s lips were still swollen and cracked, and a bruise had formed on his right cheekbone. But his chest slowly rose and fell. It was then that Gideon realized Toby was going to live.

  He blinked as the truth set in. Finally, he spoke. “He said your name.”

  “What?”

  He lifted his gaze to a pair of brown eyes that he knew better than his own two hands. “Toby. When I found him. It was the only thing he said.” His throat closed around the words.

  “Oh.” She looked at Toby and her face softened.

  The ache in Gideon’s heart pressed against his chest as if to break it in two.

  Lonnie fingered Jacob’s small hand. Her lashes blinked furiously. “I just don’t know why this happened. Who would do this to him?”

  Shifting his feet, Gideon stared at the battered face and wondered the answer himself. “He’ll probably be able to tell you everything when he wakes.”

  Her chin trembled. “You think he’s going to be all right?”

  Gideon nodded once. “He will.” The ache pressed harder.

  “How do you know?”

  The urgency in her voice pulled his eyes back to hers. Her face was so innocent, so desperately hopeful, that Gideon couldn’t look away. From the corner of his eye, he saw Toby’s chest slowly rise and fall. Toby would live. A man did not let go of life easily when there was a woman like Lonnie waiting for him. The man would fight with everything he had. Gideon was certain of it. Toby’s eyelids fluttered but did not open.

  “He’ll live.” Gideon looked at Lonnie, but it was as if she hadn’t heard him.

  She simply stared at the man on the bed. Gideon watched her, not caring if she caught him. Her face was a blank slate. He would have given every dime to his name if it would buy him her thoughts. But she simply watched Toby sleep. Staring into the face of the man who could give her a happy life. A peaceful life. And Gideon finally knew he couldn’t blame Toby if he fought for that. If Toby loved Lonnie half as much as he did, then Toby would find a way to marry her.

  He would live. Toby was strong. He would fight.

  Gideon stood and, sliding the chair back into place, stepped from the room. Toby needed his rest and so did Lonnie.

  He strode down the stairs and stopped at the sight of Jebediah sitting at the bottom.

  Jebediah spoke first. “He’s a tough one. Toby.”

  “That he is.”

  “And what about you, Gideon?” the man asked soberly.

  Exhausted, Gideon sank down on the steps beside him.

  “What about you?” Jebediah whispered again. “Always trying to solve the world’s problems.”

  Fingers pressed together, Gideon stared at the wood between their boots.

  “I see those wheels of yours spinning. Ever since you came home from the courthouse.”

  Unable to lift his eyes from a knot in the oak, Gideon nodded slowly. “I don’t know what to do, Jeb.” When the man waited for him to say more, Gideon searched for the words. “I forced myself into her life the first time. I don’t want to make that same mistake again.” He glanced at his friend. “What if—all this time—I’ve been doing just that? In trying to get her back … without stopping to think that maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe she could have a better life”—he felt Jebediah’s gaze on him—“with someone else.”

  A tug on his beard, and Jebediah lifted his shoulders and let them fall as if under the weight of his thoughts. “A man can change, Gideon. I see it in you each and every day. You’re not the man I met on the hillside. The one I wanted to fill full of buckshot.”

  Gideon interlocked his fingers, knowing the air was full of wisdom whenever he was near Jebediah.

  “But there’s a thing or two you haven’t figured out yet about life. You can’t solve all of Lonnie’s problems. I know you want to. And I don’t blame you for trying. But there’s gonna come a time when you’re just gonna have to give her up to the Lord.”

  Sliding his fingers in his hair, Gideon lowered his head. His voice muffled against his forearm. “How do I do that?”

  “You realize that Toby can’t solve her problems either. No one can. Granted, that ain’t meant to diminish the role we can play in one another’s lives, what we’re called to do.” His expression turned soft. “Sort of like Elsie ’n’ me bringing home a scraggly, useless mountain man. And his sweet wife. I sure as shootin’ didn’t want you steppin’ one rotten foot inside my house that day I found you. But God had a different plan. You listen to His will … and nothing else.”

  “How do I know what that is?” The words slipped out so quiet, he hoped Jebediah heard.

  “You start by getting to know Him.”

  Sleep wasn’t his to be had. Gideon paced the floor. The moon had made its arc in the sky and would soon fish the sun from sleepy waters. Whether his head hit the pillow or not. Slowly, Gideon ran his hands together and, with the barn door open, looked toward the house. Every window was black. A color he felt in and through him.

  He’d never felt so empty in his life. Never had he felt so alone.

  Knowing every inch of the barn by memory, Gideon closed his eyes, and even as hay crackled beneath his boots, his pacing slowed to a halt. He felt a cold breeze in his face and knew he stood in the doorway. Glancing up at the star-studded sky, he stepped forward, letting the cold air swallow him up. He shivered, but he didn’t care.

  Earlier, as he stood in the parlor, he’d watched Lonnie slowly move about. He needn’t hear her prayers to know what she longed for. He’d seen it in her face as she dragged two quilts from the cupboard beneath the stairs and began dressing the makeshift bed Elsie had helped her create on the parlor floor. It wasn’t long after she’d folded back the tattered quilts that she had called for Addie and Jacob to lie down. A soft smile was on Lonnie’s lips, and Gideon knew his words had filled her with hope. Or perhaps it had nothing to do with him.

  Perhaps? Gideon shook his head. No, he was certain. Lonnie drew her faith from another place. The same place Jebediah and Elsie did.

  One Gideon understood little about.

  He wanted that kind of faith. The kind of faith that assured him that no matter what happened in life, he would always have peace. The doorjamb was rough beneath his palm as he leaned against it. He knew where peace like that could be found. He’d always been aware. But he had no idea how to begin. He didn’t even know what to say. “How do I know?” he whispered.

  Did he even deserve to ask?

  Gideon tugged the door closed, blocking out the cold. He didn’t deserve forgiveness. He’d stolen Lonnie when she hadn’t been his to steal. Then he betrayed her just weeks after he’d betrayed Cassie. He’d orchestrated every desire of
his heart into being without ever weighing the consequences. He’d stomped on people’s feelings. Their hopes. Their dreams.

  And for what?

  His own happiness. That was the only thing he’d ever cared about. A lump rose in his throat, and feeling his walls crumbling, Gideon no longer cared to fight it back. He didn’t want this burden anymore. He didn’t want this guilt. Not because he deserved happiness. But because he wanted peace. The peace others had. The peace he’d always seen but never grasped.

  The peace he knew came free—if he were to just ask.

  He wanted it. With his whole heart, he wanted it.

  “How do I know?” he whispered again, his voice strained to his own ears.

  Hands trembling, he pressed them to his sides. Every sin he’d ever committed rose like a black disease inside him—taunting—punishing. Overwhelmed, Gideon turned. A heat flushed through him. He wanted to be free of this. To be free of himself.

  “How do I know?” he shouted. Snatching up a tin can, he hurled it at the wall. It clanged to the ground, where it spun out of sight.

  Leaning against the workbench, he pushed his palms against the coarse boards. His breath came in quick gasps. Eyes wide, he felt them focus for the first time in his life. God, how do I know?

  A voice spoke to his heart. I’m enough.

  Gideon nodded, knowing it to be true. But he’d never let himself feel it before.

  He’d always been chasing his happiness. Always been consumed with his own pride. His own fate. And he’d never been satisfied.

  But God had never made a single choice for him. Gideon had always been allowed to choose.

  Gideon hung his head. He’d made every decision in his life. Made every mistake. He was a man and he’d chosen freely. Never once had he looked to himself. Instead, he’d always blamed the world. Blamed fate.

  Blamed God.

  I’m sorry. Crouching, Gideon pressed his forehead to his arm. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Covering his face with his hands, he felt his shoulders shake with sobs, and he didn’t fight them back. He didn’t even try. He was too tired of trying. Too weary of pretending to be strong. There was nothing strong about him. Not on his own.

  And he heard it. In the still small place of his heart, he heard the most beautiful words in the strongest of voices.

  You’re forgiven. It’s forgotten.

  He drew in a deep breath and felt a cleansing wash through him. A cleansing he didn’t deserve, but he felt it all the same. So pure and so right. For the first time in his life, he felt peace. The kind he knew would never come until he’d asked for forgiveness. Really asked. Breathing came easier, and Gideon blinked into the dim light of the barn. The day was soon to dawn.

  And he didn’t feel like the same man. He sank onto his bedroll, the scent of fresh straw inviting him to lie down. Even so, he couldn’t sleep.

  Gideon stared up at the thick boards of the roof. This peace didn’t win him Lonnie, but he was done fighting. He was done blaming. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would be happy. Because she always had—and always would—follow God’s will. Gideon pressed his eyes closed and felt a surge of comfort that he would no longer bear this burden alone.

  No longer bear for her what wasn’t his to bear.

  For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel alone. If it took him the rest of his days, he would learn how to hang on to that.

  He would let her go. And if it was God’s will … she would come find him.

  Forty-Five

  Strolling into the kitchen, Lonnie set an armful of kindling on top of the woodbox. Addie and Jacob giggled in the parlor, and she peered in just as Addie’s head popped up.

  “Where did Elsie go?” Lonnie asked.

  “She went upstairs. She said she would be right back.”

  “What are you two doing?” Lonnie stepped closer.

  “It’s a surprise!” Addie’s cheeks flushed pink, and she thrust something behind her back.

  Lonnie arched an eyebrow. “A surprise? For who?”

  “Reverend McKee,” Addie whispered.

  “Oh.” Lonnie straightened. She studied her sister. “It might be a while until he—”

  “No. He’s awake.” Addie rose onto her knees. “Elsie heard him a few minutes ago, and she ran up there.”

  “Really?” Lonnie peered up at the ceiling.

  Addie’s curls bobbed. “Yep. I heard Elsie talking to him just a moment ago. That’s when I decided to make him a surprise. But you can’t see what it is.”

  Lonnie stepped toward the stairs. With one hand on the banister, she listened. Elsie’s soft murmurs floated down. Then Toby’s voice, so faint Lonnie scarcely heard it. She pressed a hand to her heart. The back door closed, and boots stomped through the kitchen. Lonnie turned. Gideon rounded the corner. He seemed to take a moment to read her expression, and Lonnie wondered what he saw there.

  “What’s the matter?” He stepped closer.

  “Toby.”

  Gideon’s eyes lifted. He seemed to hold his breath for several moments. He moved closer and rested a hand on the railing. He spoke without looking at her. “So the old boy woke up, huh?” He smiled. “Well, that’s good news.” One side of his mouth genuinely quirked up. He studied her a moment. “Everything all right?”

  Oh. She was staring.

  He chuckled.

  Addie giggled from the other side of the room. Slowly, Lonnie nodded, her gaze still pinned to his.

  Gideon glanced up the stairs. “How’s he doing? Did he say what happened?”

  “I haven’t seen him yet.”

  “Oh. Well, when you do, let me know.” He stepped back, knocking into a chair, and he stumbled to the side.

  “I will. Gid, wait—”

  He looked at her.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, and to her surprise, his face looked relaxed. “I’m pretty good, actually.” He thrust his hands in his pockets.

  She squinted at him, wanting to say more, but the words weren’t coming. “That’s … that’s good. Real good.”

  He chuckled. “Why are you looking at me like I’m crazy?”

  “I’m just … confused.”

  “Confused.”

  She nodded, knowing full well she must look a fool. “You … you saved his life. You saved Toby’s life.”

  Gideon shook his head. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. He would have done the same for me.”

  “Thank you, Gideon.”

  He blinked slowly. “You’re welcome.” His eyes were fiercely green. “I’m sorry it took me so long.” Glancing away a moment, he rubbed a hand up his arm. “What I did, Lonnie … it wasn’t heroic.” When she started to speak, he held up a hand. “Let me get this out.”

  Addie crawled to the sewing basket and pulled it back to the blanket where she and Jacob huddled together.

  “I love you,” Gideon finally said. “But I don’t want you to suffer anymore.” His thumb grazed her chin, turning her to face him. “I want you to be happy. If it’s Toby …”

  She wanted to turn her cheek into the cradle of his hand.

  “If it’s Toby”—he swallowed visibly—“allow yourself to have peace.”

  Tears flooded her eyes. He’d done everything he could to return to her, and here he was, uncertain that she would choose him. The words he needed to hear, the words that flooded her heart, bubbled up inside her.

  “Promise me that, all right?”

  “Gideon.”

  The door opened upstairs. He kissed her forehead. Elsie carried a tray down the stairs, and Addie hopped up.

  “Can we visit Toby now?” the little girl asked.

  “For a few minutes,” Elsie said.

  “Come on, Jacob!” Addie said, reaching for his hand.

  Lonnie forced her eyes away from Gideon’s. “Wait, Addie. Let me go with you. We need to be quiet.” She looked up at Gideon apologetically.

  His smile was know
ing, a muted tenderness.

  Her heart filled with an emotion she couldn’t name at the sight of his expression. One of humbleness. One of peace.

  Lonnie sat in the chair beside Toby and watched as two puppets danced at the edge of the footboard. A sock goose chased a sock chicken, and Toby’s mouth lifted in a strained smile.

  She leaned toward his ear. “Is this too much for you?” she whispered.

  His fingertips grazed hers on the quilt, and he offered a slight shake of his head. Earlier that afternoon, Lonnie had ushered Addie in for a few brief moments, then they’d left Toby to sleep for several more hours. When he’d woken, he’d taken a few sips of broth at Elsie’s urging and, at the sight of Addie poking her head around the door, had graciously welcomed her in.

  Lonnie drew in a slow breath. “She practiced this all morning,” she whispered and felt Toby’s gaze flick to her face.

  “She’s … doing a good job.” His voice was strained. Hand still resting beside hers, he moved it back into his lap.

  Brown curls popped up from their hiding place, and Addie scowled at them. “You are not supposed to be talking during the performance.”

  Lonnie fell silent but had a hard time focusing on the puppet show, and when Toby cleared his throat, she knew she wasn’t the only one.

  The goose and the chicken embraced, and Toby let out a wheezy chuckle. Alarmed, Lonnie touched his arm, but after a subtle shake of his head, she leaned back in her chair. Addie’s puppets jigged through an encore, and Lonnie found herself laughing when they sashayed off into an imaginary sunset.

  Lonnie clapped her hands for both of them. Addie rose and, with her puppets dangling at her sides, performed a bow. She scampered to the corner of the room, where she tugged off the duck and goose, setting them on the windowsill before making several costume changes.

  Leaning closer to Toby, Lonnie spoke. “I bumped into Gideon downstairs …”

  Toby licked his lips. “Was he happy”—his voice rasped and he swallowed—“to learn that I didn’t die?”

  Lonnie glanced at him but saw that he was teasing. “He … was.” She fell silent, fingering the lace edge of her apron. “Um, there’s something you should know.”