Be Still My Soul

by Joanne Bischof

  Sarah dropped her wooden spoon with a clang, and Lonnie saw the flush in her aunt’s cheeks.

  Pursing her lips, Lonnie tugged the bow at her waist, and the apron slid free. “Come on, Addie. We’re going home.”

  Oliver stepped outside. Sarah reached for Lonnie and surrounded her in a warm embrace.

  “You remember what I told you. Chin up. You are loved.” She pointed a finger heavenward, and Lonnie felt a peace at her aunt’s reminder.

  Knowing she could delay no longer, Lonnie followed her brother out the door. Addie ran ahead, skipping through the forest toward home.

  If only I could forget as easily. “Don’t get too far ahead, Addie, baby.”

  Addie picked up a handful of leaves and tossed them into the morning breeze. With his head down, Oliver strode in lengthy, swift strides. Lonnie quickened her pace to match his.

  They walked in silence, and Lonnie was in no mood to try to break the awkward strain.

  The knot in her stomach tightened when they came around the bend. A wagon and a pair of mules stood in the shadow of the cabin that loomed in the clearing. One of the mules lowered its matted face and sniffed at the ground. When Lonnie drew closer, the animals tilted their ears.

  “Who’s here?” Lonnie looked to her brother.

  Oliver stared at the wagon for a moment, the fuzz on his chin catching the morning light. “Mr. O’Riley.”

  Her lips parted, and Oliver arched a brow. “What’s the matter? It’s just Gid O’Riley and his pa. They’re inside talking.” Shrugging, he thrust his hands in his pockets. “That’s why Pa wanted me to come and fetch ya.”

  Five

  Lonnie’s legs went numb. She glanced at the windows but saw only streaked glass glinting in the sunrise. For an instant, she considered running. She could leave. Run away and never be found. With a grin that brought out her dimples, Addie skipped off and crawled beneath the porch. Her dolls were already lined up in their hideout.

  “You all right?” Oliver squinted at her.

  When Lonnie simply swallowed, he rolled his eyes. She placed one foot on the bottom step and touched her cheek with a hand that shook worse than the rickety rail. There was nothing to do now but go inside. It was time to face her pa. She thought back to her aunt’s words and clung to the truth she heard in them. God was with her.

  The sunlight faded. Lonnie peered up at a gray veil of clouds. Oliver hurried up the steps and swung open the door. Lonnie just stared at a darkening sky draped over the hills and valleys below. A drop of rain struck her arm. Then another, and another. A shot of lightning danced among the clouds.

  Her pa called her name. Thunder followed a heartbeat later.

  Lonnie started up the steps and heard men’s voices. Her ma offered another round of coffee. The door was open, and after tilting up her chin, she entered the dim room. Mr. O’Riley sat beside her pa, their voices low, expressions serious. Glancing around, Lonnie spotted Gideon in the corner, arms folded over his chest, his eyes pained. An untouched cup of coffee sat beside him. He glanced up, and his green eyes flashed with anger. Good. She hoped her pa had scared him out of his wits. The men fell quiet. Aware of how close she was to Gideon, Lonnie slid forward, closing the door with a soft thud.

  Bill rose from his seat and nodded politely. Her pa didn’t move. Lonnie felt Gideon watching her, and she wished she could escape his gaze.

  When she didn’t speak, her pa cleared his throat.

  Lonnie moistened her lips. “Afternoon, Mr. O’Riley.” She nodded and tucked her hands behind her back. “Gideon.” His name tasted bitter on her tongue. She locked her fingers together to keep them from shaking.

  “Afternoon.” Bill tugged at an invisible hat. When silence fell, he darted a glare at his oldest son.

  Gideon wiped his palms on his pants. A crooked necktie bounced against his chest. “Good to see you, Lonnie.” He didn’t look up.

  Still standing near the door, she searched for a reason to head back outside. Anything to flee this crowded room and leave the men to go about their business. There was no need for her to remain.

  “Have a seat, Lonnie.” Her pa’s voice was rigid.

  She knew that tone. More sober than he’d been in a month, his eyes were clear, his speech smooth. Had her pa brought Gideon to scold him? Judging by the beads of sweat on Gideon’s brow, she guessed he already had. Before Lonnie could savor the notion, thunder crashed in the distance and she jumped. Her cheeks warmed when she was the only one startled.

  Knowing she best obey her pa, Lonnie sat and faced the men in their chairs. She crossed her ankles tightly and rested her hands in her lap.

  Her pa spoke. “Oliver, go help Sid with the chores.”

  “Yessir.” Oliver placed his hat on his head and left quickly, nearly tripping over his feet as he did.

  Lonnie watched her brother, heart aching to see him disappear behind the rough-hewn door. When silence lingered, she stared at the window. Rain misted against the glass.

  Finally, her pa rose. “Now, Bill, like I told you before, Lonnie is my sweet girl and I hate the thought of losing her.”

  Lonnie stared at him in disbelief.

  “As you well know”—his dry palms swished together—“I aim to keep my daughter’s honor intact.” His hands continued circling, like a bidder pondering his auction price. “And I’m ready to strike this deal if you are.”

  Deal?

  Leaning forward, Gideon cleared his throat and busied himself with his necktie. Judging by the fierce set of his jaw, Lonnie was glad she could not read his thoughts.

  “What deal?” she asked.

  Her pa gave her a cool smile. “Like we talked about earlier, dear.”

  Dear? Lonnie stared at him. “Pa, I don’t—”

  “Do I have to spell it out for you, girl?” He laughed and looked at the others, obviously waiting for them to join him. Bill offered a half smile. Lonnie’s cheeks burned.

  “Let’s not be shy, Lonnie,” he continued, his calm demeanor fading. “We have already discussed the, uh, events that happened. There’s nothin’ to hide now.”

  Lonnie stood and forced the words out slowly. “Nothing happened.” Despite her determination, her voice wavered.

  Her pa’s eyes dimmed, and she stepped back. “I saw this boy all over you. And you,” he spat, “lettin’ him like you was nothin’ better than trash.”

  Lonnie turned to Gideon. Sweat glistened along his brow.

  “You tell them exactly what happened, Gideon O’Riley.”

  When Gideon finally looked up at her, the regret in his eyes nearly strangled her. “I tried.” His voice came out thin, and his eyes flicked to the shotgun hanging over the door. “Your pa’s convinced—”

  “Shut your mouth, boy.” Joel followed Gideon’s gaze to the gun, the hardness in his expression clear.

  Although her heart stampeded in her chest, her head suddenly felt light. Lonnie blinked, trying to keep the room in focus.

  Her pa raised his hand—a signal of peace. “Now. There is only one thing to be done in a situation like this.”

  No.

  He flashed Lonnie a warning as he took in a slow breath, then turned to his guests. “Now that my daughter is no longer … desirable for a bride”—he looked at Lonnie—“I have spoken with Gideon, and he has agreed to do right by you.”

  “Now wait just a minute.” Gideon rose.

  “Son.” Bill’s voice boomed. “Enough. You will do what needs to be done.”

  Lonnie’s voice slipped out in a faint whisper. “Right by me?” Her hands shook at her side.

  Fire flashed in her pa’s eyes. “This is the end of the discussion, Lonnie. You will marry this young man. If there is a child, it will be born in wedlock.” He cut the last word off sharp. Rain clicked against the roof.

  So he wanted to get rid of her after all. And it couldn’t be by her own plans and dreams. She should have known.

  “There is no child.” Still standing, Gideon ground out each w
ord.

  Joel stomped forward, any thread of patience gone. He thrust a stubby finger in Gideon’s face. “Sit down and shut up.” His nostrils flared. “Before I show you what we do to men like you.”

  Slowly, but with his eyes filled with a silent dare, Gideon sank back on the bench.

  Lonnie didn’t wait to hear more. She dashed from the cabin without so much as a word. Warm droplets of rain struck her skin, as if the sky were crying.

  In one quick motion, Gideon burst past the door and pounded down the stairs. He’d left his coat and hat behind, and the air nipped beneath his flannel shirt. He spotted Lonnie on the edge of the creek, sitting on a boulder, her head to her knees. He marched forward, not caring if he startled her.

  “You know your pa better than I do.”

  She rose and moved closer to the water as if he hadn’t spoken.

  He followed her. “Is there nothing”—shame tinged the edges of his conscience at the words he was about to say—“that can be done to … prevent this?”

  She spun. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “And what of you?” He stepped closer, no longer caring to try and be a gentleman. “Do you want to get married?”

  Lonnie flinched, then composed herself. Without speaking, she simply ran fingertips over her eyes and shook her head.

  When he moved closer, she held up her hand and he froze. “How could you do this?” Her hand shook, but her face was a storm cloud.

  “Me?” His voice almost squeaked. Gideon forced his tone to soften. “Talk to your pa. Surely you can reason with him.”

  “You don’t know him.” She kicked a clump of dirt, and it smacked his shoe. She picked up another, and he ducked when it hurtled past his shoulder. Her eyes flew heavenward before she sank to the ground. She buried her face in the skirts that billowed above her knees.

  With slow steps, Gideon moved closer. He knew all too well the moody ways of women. Smooth her feathers. Then just maybe he could squeak out of this situation unscathed.

  He crouched beside her, and she grimaced. He scooted back and rested his forearm on his knee. “What can you say that will change his mind? Surely there’s something.”

  She mumbled something about how she should have known this day would come. Resting her chin against her shoulder, she peered at him, brown eyes as wide as a doe’s. “It’s as good as done now. There will be no reasoning with him.”

  Gideon’s shoulders sank. He picked up a stick, rose, and snapped it in two. Didn’t he have a choice? He studied her a moment and glanced back at the house. What Lonnie said was true. He knew it by the way Oliver had called on them that morning. Gideon had hardly taken a bite of breakfast when the boy had darkened their doorway. By the time Oliver had stumbled through a message from his pa, Gideon had known there was nothing to do but try to smooth things over. But now his hope was as thin as Lonnie’s.

  Crazy Joel Sawyer. Gideon could have picked any girl to walk home that night. But like a fool, he’d chosen Lonnie.

  He looked down on her bowed head. One stupid decision, and he was going to pay. It wasn’t a matter of desire. Just that he’d rather attend his wedding than his hanging.

  Lonnie’s abrupt words were no louder than a whisper. “Go away, Gideon.”

  He rose but studied her small form. She hardly seemed older than a child, but he knew better. She was seventeen and more than able to marry. “Tomorrow, then.”

  “Tomorrow?” She lifted her head. Her eyes were red.

  “That’s what your pa decided on.”

  The color drained from her cheeks.

  Good. Perhaps a healthy dose of fear would get her to reason with the lunatic she called a father. “Unless you can get him to change his mind. If not, I have to do right by you. Is that what you really want?”

  Lonnie rose and smoothed her dress. She started past him, then paused. Her shoulder nearly brushed against his. The scent of hickory and nutmeg lifted from her dress.

  “It’s never mattered what I want.” She strode away, her ankles pale beneath her hemline.

  Gideon did not follow her. He turned, picked up a grainy rock, and hurled it at a tree. The clump shattered.

  He heard his pa call him, and Gideon wasted no time climbing into the wagon. He hardly gave his pa a chance to do the same before he slapped the reins against the mules’ backs.

  His pa cleared his throat, and Gideon looked at him.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Gideon blurted. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

  His pa worked his jaw and leaned back against the wagon seat. “You’re gonna bring that little gal home tomorrow and start making this right.” He ran his knuckles over his knee.

  “Is that so? And what about Ma?”

  “I’ll see to your mother.”

  “Sure you will.” Gideon slapped the reins again. If there was one person who ruled the O’Riley roost, it certainly wasn’t his pa.

  When they pulled in front of their house, Gideon left the beasts in his pa’s care and stormed toward the barn. He was in no mood for questions and curiosities from his siblings. He unloosened his necktie and yanked it off.

  He closed the barn door tight, wishing he could lock it. He threw his necktie into the corner, then grabbed a pitchfork and got to work scraping old hay from the unoccupied stalls.

  The events from the last few days turned over and over like a millstone in his mind, grinding his actions into his conscience. But there was nothing to be done.

  He could not step back in time and erase it all. He certainly could not waltz over to the Sawyer farm and tell Joel that he would not marry his daughter. That would only land him on the receiving end of Joel’s shotgun.

  Gideon clenched his hands around the handle of the pitchfork until the splintered wood dug into his callused skin. Nothing in his past suggested he had the makings of a husband. In fact, he had more than enough evidence to prove that he wasn’t. He, as well as the rest of Rocky Knob, knew that he was the last thing a young woman needed. And he hated the thought of being shackled to one woman. Despised it, in fact.

  With a grunt, he threw the tool against the wall. It clanged to the floor, and he kicked it aside. A goat stumbled around in her stall. With all his strength, he hooked his left arm, and his fist struck the wall. Pain seared through his knuckles and into his arm, but he pulled back and struck the solid wall again.

  A shot belted through him. Pulling his arm back, he stumbled away from the wall and stared at his battered hand.

  His ma called from the house.

  Gideon tucked his fist in his shirt and hurried off toward the cabin. He slipped in the door. His littlest brother and sister sat at the table. He kept to the shadow on the far wall as he walked toward the bedroom in search of his sister.

  His mother gasped when she saw his fist. “What happened to you?”

  The frown that wrinkled her lips told Gideon she was not amused. The flour that covered her hands and the pot boiling on the stove told him she had no time for his predicament.

  “Oh.” He shook out his hand as casually as he could lest she see the damage. He was already embarrassed enough. “It was an accident. It’s not that bad.”

  His ma clicked her tongue. “Well, go and wash up. Mae’ll see to your hand.” She dipped a slice of rabbit meat into a pan of flour before dropping it in the frying pan. “I’ve got hungry kids waitin’ for their food, and I ain’t got time for your foolishness.” Her tone indicated that she meant more than a battered hand. For a moment, Gideon wanted her to know that he hadn’t done what they had already judged him for. But the thought passed quickly. There was no point. And he was too tired to care. Let ’em think what they want.

  He grabbed the kettle and moved to the far end of the room. With his back to the children crowded around the table, Gideon dipped his hand into the washbasin. The hot water stung.

  His sister stepped from the bedroom and leaned over his shoulder. She clutched a pair of crumpled sheets beneath
her arm. “What on earth did you do?” she whispered.

  He let out a heavy sigh but didn’t respond.

  “Pa told me what happened.” Mae pursed her lips, making her cheeks dimple. She took Gideon’s hand and spoke with motherly concern far beyond her fourteen years. A trait she’d developed with four rowdy brothers to look after. “Let me see that.”

  Gideon let her take his hand. “What else did he say?”

  Mae dabbed at the dried blood with a damp rag. “He said you were going to marry Lonnie Sawyer.” She glanced up. “He said her pa is makin’ you.”

  He grimaced at the shameful truth in her words. Gideon exhaled and lowered his voice. “Did he tell you why?”

  “Didn’t have to. It’s obvious, and Ma isn’t too happy about it.”

  Gideon winced when Mae squeezed his hand too tight. She rinsed her rag and dabbed at the wound. “ ’Sides, you know how Ma feels about the Sawyers. She hasn’t liked them for as long as I can remember.” She glanced over her shoulder and continued in a quiet voice. “Granny used to say it was because Joel Sawyer picked Maggie over Ma and Ma never got over it.” Mae’s chestnut eyes glistened as they narrowed under the weight of her words.

  His eyes flicked to his ma’s back. “I remember her saying that.”

  He held up his hand as Mae dried it off. She wrapped a scrap of old fabric around his torn flesh as a makeshift bandage.

  A muscle twitched in his jaw when she knotted it tightly. “Well, Ma’s gonna have to learn to live with it.”

  And so would he.

  “We’ll see.” Mae dropped the rag in the dingy water. “But Ma didn’t take too kindly to the news. It seems you’ve gotten yourself into more trouble than you’re used to, Gideon. I don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

  Across the room, their ma dropped a spoonful of grits in front of Billie and Sadie. Their bare feet were streaked with dirt and dangled just below the oversize chair they shared. Ruth’s hip knocked the table as she skirted the rough corner, finally lowering steaming bowls in front of John and Charlie, who stuffed food in their mouths as fast as they could scoop it.