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

finger full of moist, dark herbs, she pressed them against his shoulder. Almost too hot for comfort.
    Gideon tightened his jaw, glad when the mixture began to cool.
    She grabbed a rag and tore it into a strip. Gideon held his arm out as she wrapped his shoulder, sealing in the warm herbs.
    “What is this?” he finally asked.
    “It’ll help the ache.” She motioned for him to put his shirt back on.
    With the tight bandage, his movements were slow, but he managed to slide his arm into the sleeve of his thermals.
    “I’ve got a cure for anything that could ail a body.” She watched as he slid his arm gingerly through the sleeve of his wrinkled work shirt. “But some things can’t be cured with what you can gather from the earth.”
    Peering up at her, he started on the buttons.
    “There ain’t an herb on earth that’ll cure what’s ailin’
you
.”
    The fire crackled in the hearth, and Gideon lifted his eyes to the window. White flakes fell. The sky was growing darker, heavy clouds blanketing mountains that seemed to be holding their breath.
    Holding a secret he wasn’t privy to.
    “Have you … have you ever wondered what it would be like to begin again?” He looked back at Adelaide. “Just start over. Have everything you’ve ever done wiped clean?”
    She set the jar of herbs beside him, and by the look she gave him, it was a gift. Humbled, he studied her wrinkled face. She sat, and after a few moments, she spoke.
    “I’m a good listener.” An invitation.
    Gideon focused on the last button, finally sliding it into place. He rested his hands on the table. “My whole life I’ve always worried about losing myself. I’ve always worried about missing out on what it was that I wanted.”
    “And now?”
    “Now.” He folded his fingers together. “Now, all I can think about is them. All I want is my family. Perhaps that’s selfish in itself.” They deserved to be cared for. Could he even do that?
    Adelaide pursed her lips. “Letting go can be a harder way to love than holding on.” Like rain on a river rock, her blue eyes glistened.
    And he wondered what she’d lived through.
    They sat in silence. Gideon rolled his shoulder gently, the soreness nearly a memory.
    “S’pose you’ll want to get on the road now. You’ve got a fair bit of ground to cover yet.”
    “Yes ma’am.” Gideon stood and pushed in his chair. Adelaide rose and shuffled inside her cupboard as Gideon cinched his bedroll tight and fastened it to his pack. She slid the jar of herbs as well as a larger jar of pickles into his pack. In the corner of the room, she lifted the lid to an old chest and, after shuffling around, pulled out a dark knit cap.
    She handed it to Gideon. “Keep warm out there.”
    “Thank you.” When she turned away, Gideon slipped his coins on the windowsill beside her bed. After cramming the cap into his coat pocket, it took him but a minute to lace his boots.
    Remembering the old newspaper, he asked if she still had need of it. Adelaide handed it to him along with a small bundle of bread. A thank-you on his lips, he slid both inside his pack.
    “You take care now,” she said.
    “I will. You too.”
    Hands clasped in front of her, she stepped back.
    Gideon nodded in farewell, then stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, ignoring his gloves. Snow fell gently all around. Beckoning him forward into a land of white and quiet. A purity that was filled with possibilities.
    “Letting go can be a harder way to love than holding on.”
    But he’d already let go. He saw Lonnie’s face in his mind. Something inside began to ache at the sight, and he swallowed hard.
    How he missed her.
    There was so much he wanted to say, but Gideon knew that the moment he saw her, words would fail him. Everything else would fade away. He’d fold her in his arms and not let go. The memory of her scent greeted him—a memory that had hidden itself for months. His blood surged, kindling a fire within him. It carried him forward.