My Hope Is Found

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My Hope Is Found Page 29

by Joanne Bischof


  “This one is red.” Lonnie pointed to the checker on the far side of the board, and Jacob touched it with his small finger. “And this one,” she said, pointing to another, “is black. No, don’t put it in your mouth.” She took the piece from him and set it back down. “You don’t have to taste everything.”

  The back door closed, and wood clanged into the box in the kitchen. Elsie poked her head into the parlor. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.” Lonnie rose to her knees, dumping a clattering pile of checkers from her skirt. “Have you seen Gideon? He never came in last night.”

  Elsie moved to the window and tied the curtains back. “He left early this morning.” She swiped at a cobweb.

  Lonnie’s heart lurched. “Left?”

  Amusement warmed the older woman’s round face. “Sap’s done running. He went to gather the buckets. He said he’d be home in time for dinner.”

  Her feet as restless as her heart, Lonnie glanced out the window. She felt Elsie watching her.

  “Did you need him for something?”

  “Very much so.”

  Elsie’s face brightened. “He’s in the maple grove.”

  Lonnie’s heart skittered. She glanced back at the children, knowing the mess they’d made in the parlor would take a while to tidy. And dinner ought to be started soon.

  “Go.” Elsie waved at her. “I will watch them.”

  Dropping to her knees, Lonnie picked up a handful of wooden pieces, stacking them as quickly as she could. “Are you sure?”

  The older woman laughed and pointed toward the kitchen. “Go!”

  “Thank you!” Lonnie tossed the checkers on the sofa and planted a kiss on Elsie’s round cheek as she scurried by. She snatched her coat from its peg even as she flung the door open. “I’ll be back,” she called over her shoulder.

  Elsie’s delight rang clear in her laughter. Lonnie slammed the door behind her and thundered down the steps, running toward the woods. To the spot where the maples grew. Her heart near to bursting.

  Gideon stepped closer to the maple tree and set the iron pry bar in place. The notched end of the curved metal rod fit right on top of the spile, and with a flex of his arms, he popped the spile free. It fell to the ground, and Gideon tossed it in a bucket with a dozen others and moved to the next. A few dozen more to go.

  “I don’t want to startle you,” a sweet voice said.

  The corner of his mouth lifted, and he turned to see Lonnie step closer. He let his gaze wander the length of her. “Couldn’t startle a blind man.”

  “Are you saying I walk … loud?”

  She drew closer, and Gideon peered down into a pair of chestnut-colored eyes. “I’m saying I could hear you from a mile away.”

  Her mouth twisted to the side, and he knew she was trying to fight a smile. How he wished she wouldn’t. He loved nothing more than to make her smile.

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  His heart was so full he could hardly get the words out. “And you found me.”

  She stood mighty close. “Do you need any help?”

  He glanced around at his tools, suddenly a jumble of nerves. “If you’d like.” He handed her a bucket of spiles. “You can follow me.”

  Stepping up to another tree, he carefully loosened the spile. “You’re wearing my coat again.” He moistened his lips, hoping he sounded smoother than he felt. “You do that a lot.”

  With the bucket in front of her feet, Lonnie slid her fingers inside the worn pockets. “I’m sort of attached to this one.”

  “It suits you.” His heart raced. Their fingers touched when he handed her the spile. His nerves colliding into one another, all he could do was move on to the next tree. He heard her follow. Swallowing hard, he searched for what he yearned to say.

  Bucket in hand, she watched as he freed another metal spout. It took all his strength to keep from looking directly at her. With her fingertips, she smoothed a strand of hair away from her cheek. His coat stretched taut as he bent to lean the pry bar against the tree. “Lonnie …” His voice was so weak, he winced. Come on, man.

  Rising inside him was all that had passed between them—the moment she became his wife. And made him a papa. Gave him her heart. Just as he was realizing how his own had been slipping away piece by piece, growing more whole on the other side.

  The tip of her braid brushed the ground beside his boot when she bent to lift the bucket of metal spouts. Crouching, Gideon caught hold of the bucket handle, pinning it to the ground. Lonnie straightened. He slammed his eyes shut, doing everything he could to muster his courage. Finally, he stood. He opened his eyes and found himself looking down on her bowed head. He touched her chin, lifting her face.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what happened yesterday?” he asked.

  “I didn’t have a chance,” she said softly. “You were gone.”

  He pulled his hand back. “And now?” His heart galloped.

  “Now?”

  “What would you tell me now?” He watched her worry a thread between her fingers. As if of their own accord, his hands slid to the sides of her face. “Lonnie, what would you tell me now?”

  “I’d say you’re an incredibly patient man, Gideon O’Riley.”

  He let out a low chuckle. “I’ve been called many things in my life. ‘Patient’ was never one of them.”

  “Then I’d say it’s time.”

  He kissed her hair as softly as he could manage.

  She tilted her head back and peered up at him. Her face full of joy.

  He leaned closer and kissed the tip of her freckled nose, his tools forgotten at his feet. “I love you.”

  She rose to her tiptoes and laced a hand behind his neck.

  He searched her face, waiting, fighting back a battle he was certain that showed. If not for the way her eyes drank from his face, then for the way her smile formed as she took in his expression. She sank back down, the curve in her mouth slipping away just as quick. Fear bolted through him. His heart wrestled with what he saw in her eyes—a hundred emotions and words he couldn’t begin to pin down. Heart hammering, he searched for something more to say, but nothing came. Too much filled him, and he had no words for what lived in the span of his chest.

  Then she leaned her forehead against that very space, so softly, without warning, that he drew in a rough breath. Her hands slid to his shoulders. Holding, clinging. As if to never let go. Was she crying?

  Stupid man, he couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Nothing beyond her name, which he finally spoke.

  “And I love you,” she whispered.

  Jarring the breath from him. She looked up, her eyes so moist two tears slipped and fell when she blinked. He ran his thumbs gently over their trails, once. And then again. Her smile returning, she turned her cheek into his palm and closed her eyes. Stepping back, legs shaking, more nervous than he’d ever been in his life, he lowered himself to one knee. Her eyes widened. His heart beat so loud he was certain she would hear. Taking her hands in his, he marveled at the sensation and sent a plea heavenward that this was what his future held.

  “Lonnie Sawyer …” His heart was in his throat.

  She tilted her head to the side, eyes glossy.

  “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Another tear slid down her cheek.

  Gideon forced himself to breathe. And then again. And again. Finally, Lonnie nodded, her face a sunrise.

  He kissed both of her hands. “So that’s a yes?” Without releasing her, he rose.

  She nodded again. “Yes.” Her face tilted toward his in sweet invitation.

  Suddenly, something struck him. A fear. An awareness of how brokenly human he still was. Holding the sides of her face, he ran a thumb over her lips. “I want to kiss you, Lonnie.” Gideon gulped, suddenly realizing how alone they were. Her smile softened, making the battle he fought that much harder. “But I …” His throat worked to swallow. The last time he’d kissed her had been in front of the B
ennetts’ house. Making a mess of things. But now … “It’s just you and me … here. Alone. And if you knew how much I love you … how much I …” The words weren’t coming. Pulling her closer, he kissed her hair. “May I kiss you Lonnie, as my wife?”

  Her chin trembled.

  He needed witnesses. A whole heap of them, for his yearning for her had only deepened with time. “I fear I oughtn’t do it any other way.” The admission humbled him. He prayed she wouldn’t think less of him. Releasing her, he forced his feet back. “You deserve nothing less, and I want to give you the best I can, and I wish I’d done it sooner.”

  Though she was still crying, joy flooded her face.

  “Will you walk with me, Lonnie? To find a preacher?” He knew mischief crept into his expression when she choked out a little laugh.

  Sniffing, she wiped her cheeks with her apron, then reached for his hand, pulling herself close, wrapping her other hand around her arm as if she meant to never let go. At her nudge, they took the first steps from the maple grove. Walking through the speckled light, Gideon looked down, unable to tell where he ended and she began.

  With Jacob pressed to his chest and Lonnie’s hand wrapped securely in his, Gideon led the way to Reverend Gardner’s house, determined to knock the door down if necessary. They’d delivered the news to the Bennetts, and even as Jebediah slapped him on the back, Elsie pulled her apron over her face and sobbed. Addie had jumped up and down, giggling. Jacob let out a joyful squeal, though Gideon knew he had no idea what was going on.

  Now, as they walked to Reverend Gardner’s house, a midday sun shone bright all around them. The air fragrant with spring blossoms. The walk took most of the morning, but not once did Lonnie’s hand slide from his. And by the time Jacob fell asleep—the boy’s soft cheek pressed to Gideon’s shoulder—the reverend’s house came into view.

  Lonnie rapped on the door with a gentle hand, and after flashing his wife-to-be a grin, Gideon pounded on the wood, nearly shaking it from the frame.

  She blushed at his eagerness.

  “Coming!” An irritated voice called from inside.

  The door burst open. The reverend’s eyebrows lifted, and with short, stubby fingers, he pulled the napkin from his shirt and brushed crumbs from his pants.

  “I hope we’re not interrupting,” Lonnie began.

  “I was just finishing up my dinner.” Reverend Gardner glanced from one face to the other, finally landing back on Gideon. “May I help you?” He wiped his mouth with his napkin.

  “We’d like to get married,” Gideon said, squeezing Lonnie’s hand.

  “Married?” The reverend nearly choked.

  Gideon let out a slow breath, his nerves a mess. “I know what you’re thinking, sir.” He held up a hand. “But believe me when I say I am a free man to be married.” He took the envelope from his pocket and handed it over. “And as far as I know”—he glanced down at Lonnie, who smiled up at him—“as crazy as it seems, this lady here will have me.”

  Taking the envelope, Reverend Gardner began to open it. Jebediah stepped forward, and Gideon felt a reassuring hand squeeze his shoulder.

  “He’s free to marry. I am witness to that.”

  “So am I,” Elsie added.

  Grateful, Gideon glanced at them. His family.

  Even as he shook his head, Reverend Gardner’s eyes skimmed the words. Then with a nod of approval, he ushered them into his house, motioning toward the sitting room. “In there.”

  The fire crackled in the hearth. A white cat lifted its head as the parade of intruders passed by the sofa, and stretching out its paws, the bundle of fur rolled onto her back as if the guests had nothing better to do than rub her belly.

  “Your dinner’s getting cold, dear.” A gray-haired woman stepped out of the kitchen, and then her face filled with surprise.

  “Maura, these folks have come to be married.” The reverend tossed his napkin onto the mantel and made quick work of straightening his collar. “Will you please draw up the license?” He cast Gideon a curious glance. “You’re certain you have no other wives?”

  With a chuckle, Gideon lifted his hands, palms up. “I promise.”

  After a moment of silent study, Reverend Gardner shook his head. “I believe you.” He set Judge Monroe’s letter on the mantel, then glanced at Lonnie and back to Gideon. Despite his sober demeanor, he nearly smiled. “I’ve never married the same people twice before.”

  Gideon took hold of Lonnie’s hand, not liking the way his felt without it.

  The reverend motioned for them to stand in front of the fireplace, and after his wife brought him a large Bible, he turned to face his unexpected guests. He cleared his throat and began with the words he’d spoken to Lonnie and Gideon on that cold morning they’d stood inside his church, her hand trembling inside his.

  Gideon stood as close to Lonnie as he could, glancing away only long enough to peek at Jacob, who rested in Elsie’s arms. His small cheek was pressed to the woman’s shoulder. Black lashes brushed his pale skin in slumber. Gideon glanced back at Lonnie, who watched him with a curious expression.

  After closing his Bible, Reverend Gardner clutched it in one hand. “Do you have a ring?”

  Gideon grimaced. He had nothing to offer her. Slowly he shook his head.

  All was silent except for a clatter coming from Reverend Gardener’s kitchen. Lonnie pulled a folded handkerchief from inside her sleeve. “I do.” She carefully unwrapped the bundle and held the offering out to Gideon.

  Gideon took the ring between his broad fingers, studying it. His face was pained, and Lonnie could almost hear the breaking of his heart.

  “What’s the matter?” She touched his sleeve.

  “This isn’t a good ring.” His eyebrows pulled together, and she knew his memories had drifted to a time when he was a different man. “This … I …” He shook his head again.

  Lonnie took hold of his hand, closing his fingers around the tin he’d offered her all that time ago in Rocky Knob, the day she’d vowed to become the wife of a man she hardly knew. “It’s a perfect ring. I would never want another.”

  Gideon’s chest heaved, and Lonnie’s thumb grazed his skin.

  “Do you believe me?”

  Glancing up, his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You’re a better woman than I deserve.”

  She shook her head and held out her hand.

  With determination brightening his eyes, Gideon slid the cold tin to the tip of her finger. “Are you sure?” he breathed.

  Lonnie nodded. She’d never been more certain of anything in her life, and when Gideon slid the ring onto her finger, the tin warming between their hands, the last pieces of her broken heart pulled together.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may—” Reverend Gardner arched an eyebrow and bent toward the kitchen entryway. “For heaven’s sake, wife. What is that knocking about in there?”

  Mrs. Gardner poked her head out of the kitchen, bowl in the crook of her arm, whisk working in quick motion. “I’m beating egg whites to a froth like the recipe says.” Her cheeks reddened. “Can’t have a wedding without a cake.”

  Reverend Gardner chuckled. “And we can’t have a ceremony without a ‘kiss yer bride.’ ”

  “Yes, dear.” Her whisk stilled and she stood at attention.

  From the corner of the room, Addie giggled.

  With a shake of his head, Reverend Gardner grinned and turned back to Gideon. “Mr. O’Riley”—his eyes sparkled—“you may now kiss your bride.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  There was a time near the completion of this book that as a storyteller—and more simply as a person—it was beyond my ability to put the words on paper. I had been trying to walk outside the storm. Skirting around the heart-aching places this book would take me. That was when I knew it was time to simply trust God to see me through to the other side. For in our weakness, He is strong. And I felt ever so weak. So I opened my hands and let go of everything I had thought this sto
ry would be.

  I searched my heart. Every piece of it. Felt along the scars from life and loss, the healing remnants. It was there I allowed myself to tell a journey of the mire sin can pull us into, and the healing that can be found in His will. In those days and hours, I finished My Hope Is Found.

  My constant prayer is that these stories will bless and encourage you. I pray that they will point to the Cross—the redemptive love of Christ. The One who died for our sins. Though we were so, so undeserving of that kind of sacrifice. The ultimate act of love.

  There is no love story sweeter than that of Christ and His church. It’s a dance—a pursuit. I think this is why I write romance. It’s a beautiful reflection of that ultimate love. The never-ending story of a hero, holding out his hand to the one he loves. A story of sacrifice. And in the Cadence of Grace series, a story of how a sinner can change, and hope can be found.

  Gideon’s journey back to Lonnie took some twists and turns that led me to the city of Stuart. The courthouse, completed in the early 1800s, was the hub for legal happenings in Patrick County, Virginia, in 1902. John and Sallie Moore were a prominent family in Stuart at the time, with John Moore serving as judge of the county court for a number of years. In wanting to respectfully honor Judge Moore and his family, I created the fictional character of Judge Monroe. The History of Patrick County states that upon his retirement, Judge Moore engaged in orcharding.

  One of the greatest joys of being an author is connecting with readers. I am so thankful to all of you who have been a part of the Cadence of Grace series. The way you’ve embraced Lonnie and Gideon’s story blesses me to no end. If you’d like to keep in touch, you can find me at www.​joannebischof.​com. While there, if you would like to drop me a note, please do! It’s always such a joy to hear from you.

  READERS GUIDE

  1. What does the title My Hope is Found signify to you? In what way does the theme of hope run through the story?

  2. As Lonnie strives to move on from Gideon, what strengths do you see in her? After all she’s been through with her father, and then with Gideon, what do you think she yearns for? If you could encourage her early on in the story, what would you say?

 

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