My Hope Is Found: The Cadence of Grace, Book 3 by Joanne Bischof Page A

Gideon into the parlor. “Why don’t you go sit?”
    “No, thank you. You folks enjoy your evening together. I think I’ll turn in early.” Gideon glanced once more at the bookshelf. “Ma’am, may I borrow one of these?”
    “Take any that you want.” She stepped closer and shook out her damp apron.
    Gideon lifted a heavy gray volume and flipped it open. The text was so small and the pages so many, his brain hurt.
    Mrs. Jemson smiled knowingly when he put it back.
    “Which would you recommend?” he asked, lifting up a smaller book. Inside were pictures of pencil-drawn flowers. He put it back, careful to stick it in the same place. Next he found a dusty Bible, a smaller volume than the one that rested on the mantel. His fingers grazed the worn and tattered spine. Gideon slid it back.
    “Well … maybe a good adventure.” She tapped her finger against her chin.
“Moby Dick.”
She tugged out the thick novel.
    “What’s that one about?”
    “It’s about a seaman who goes on a great voyage, hunting a whale.”
    Gideon wrinkled his nose and shook his head apologetically. Laughing, Mrs. Jemson slid it back into place. She named several others. Gideon flipped through some of them.
    “I didn’t know you enjoyed reading,” she said, wiping dust from a leather-bound book with the edge of her apron.
    Pulling out another, Gideon shrugged one shoulder. He ran his thumb over the brown binding. “I don’t. But I figured I might as well try and like it. Especially since I don’t have anything else to do.” He smiled down on Mrs. Jemson. “Maybe something that takes place on dry land.”
    From his bench, Owen snorted.
    Eyes bright, Mrs. Jemson put the one in her hand away. “Then you might like this one.” She tapped the book already in his hand. “It takes place during the French and Indian War. A great classic. And an adventure.”
    Gideon dipped his head in a nod and turned the book over. “All right, I’ll try it.” He raised it in soft salute. “Thank you.” He eyed the small Bible, gently pulling it from its place. “May I borrow this as well?”
    “You may. And keep them. They’re our gift to you.”
    “No, I couldn’t—”
    She pressed the books toward his chest. “I insist.”
    Tal shook out his paper and mumbled around his pipe. “She won’t take no for an answer.”
    “All right then. See you in the morning.” With a nod and a thanks to Mrs. Jemson, Gideon stepped out into the cold night.

Twelve
    With afternoon light streaming in through the parlor window, Lonnie settled down on the sofa and reached for her sewing. It had taken her nearly a week to finish the first shirt, but now that she had the pattern cut, she hoped to have the second one done in shorter time.
    “You’ve made good progress,” Elsie said, bustling in from the kitchen.
    “Thank you.” Lonnie slipped her needle quickly through the fabric and eyed her seam to make sure it was straight. She’d had to triple check Toby’s measurements when she cut the pattern. Even still, she held the shirt up to the light and with a shake of her head couldn’t figure out how a reverend managed to fill out such a thing. “I hope they fit Toby all right.”
    Elsie lifted Jacob from the rug and headed back into the kitchen. “A gunnysack would fit that man all right.”
    Smiling, Lonnie shook her head. At the sound of the washtub clanging into place on the kitchen floor, Lonnie gathered up her sewing and wandered toward the noise. Kneeling on the floor, Elsie was busy tugging Jacob’s brown pants from his chubby legs. His feet kicked in anticipation of his bath. Lonnie tested the kettle, added the hot water, and then watched as Elsie checked the temperature with her fingertips. Jacob all but lunged in. Laughing, Elsie unpinned his diaper and lowered him into the galvanizedbasin. He tucked his hands into the water. Bending, Lonnie kissed a bare, creamy shoulder.
    “That’s my boy.” Setting Toby’s shirt on the table, she