My Hope Is Found: The Cadence of Grace, Book 3 Read Online Free PDF Page B

swift movements that did not match her age, Adelaide moved bowls to the table, followed by two cups and a pair of spoons.
    Gideon stepped toward the door.
    “Supper’s ready. Firewood’ll last.” She glanced at him. “You sleepin’ out there in this? There ain’t an ordinary for miles and miles, and it’d be a shame to freeze that tail end of yours out there in the cold.” She moved the heavy pot to the table, and when her arms shook, Gideon fought the urge to help her.
    “I need to keep moving.”
    “Well, take a few hours and warm up, at least. Put yer bedroll right here in front of the fire.”
    “I will. Thank you.” Not wanting to make a mess of her well-swept floor, Gideon sank into the chair beside the fire and unlaced his boots. His body settled in, exhaustion all but taking over. Yanking one boot off, he set it close to the flames to dry. As he worked on the second, his elbow bumped a little table, nearly sliding a pair of books to the floor. He straightened them and noticed a wrinkled newspaper. A glance at the date showed it was a month old, but what caught his eye was a Help Wanted advertisement. He touched his thumb to the page, noting the city of Stuart.
    Gideon thought of the coins in his pocket. He glanced up at Adelaide as she placed a small loaf of dark-brown bread beside his plate. Though she’d never ask, the coins were hers. He moved to the washstand when she filled it with steaming water and, after scrubbing the grime from his hands and forearms, sat at the table at her bidding. Adelaide creaked into the chair across from him. She folded her hands together.
    Her crown of silver braids tilted forward, and she closed her eyes. “For the bounty we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. Amen.”
    “Amen.” Gideon lifted his head.
    She dunked her spoon into the pot and filled Gideon’s bowl. “Well, don’t stand on ceremony for me, young man. Dig in.”
    “Thank you.” He poured cider into his cup from a chipped crock and filled her cup when she didn’t object.
    Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table, broke off a chunk of bread, and dipped it in the stew before sinking his teeth into the moistened crust. The hot bite all but melted in his mouth.
    He glanced around. “Did you grow all this?” he asked, nodding toward the herbs hanging in the corner and along the window frame. Things grew in pots along the windowsill.
    “Some of it. Others I gather. You can find just about anything.” She took a sip of broth, her eyes finding Gideon’s over her spoon. “If you know where to look.” She slid a jar of pickles toward him.
    He ate quickly, hungrier than he’d realized. When he’d finished a second bowl of stew, he leaned back in his chair. The fire was warm against his back. His feet were heavy, his head so light he had to run his hand over his face.
    “Better lie down before you fall down.” She stacked his bowl on top of hers.
    Too tired to argue, he sat on his bedroll in front of the fire. Moments later he was lying down, and the quiet clatter of dishes being washed and stacked lulled him to sleep.
    Overcome by exhaustion and soothed by the warmth, he felt his body become heavy. He let the day wash through him, out of him. A skirt brushed past his shoulder. Cassie. Gideon nearly spoke her name aloud. Or was it Lonnie? His head spun. The fire crackled and popped, bathing his senses in an orange glow. His dreams grew and just as quick seemed to fade. The memory of Jacob’s laughter fading. Gideon felt his hands flex as if to capture it. But it was too late. Heat tore through his shirt, nearly burning his back, and Gideon shifted.
    A shadow moved by, and he opened his eyes in time to see Adelaide’s petticoat brush past his bedroll. Flames swallowed up a new log sacrificed to the roaring hearth. Boiling sap oozed from a splintered crack. Gideon sat up and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms.
    The soles of Adelaide’s shoes tapped lightly