Free Be Still My Soul: The Cadence of Grace, Book 1 by Joanne Bischof

brought them into a small hollow surrounded by thick trees and bordered on one side by a faint creek. The hollow opened to a meadow, the autumn grasses unfolding toward the hills in a dry, crisp blanket.
    Gideon picked up a pebble and threw it with enough force to startle a pair of crows hopping along the water’s edge. His younger brother grabbed a stick and did the same. They tried to see who could get their rock closest to an X in the rough bark of a gnarled oak. Gideon had carved the target a few summers before.
    “What are you two sissies up to now?” a raspy voice croaked.
    Gideon turned to see Hollis step past a tree. “I wondered if you’d be able to sneak away.”
    “When have I ever failed you?” Hollis held up a newspaper and a quart jar filled with clear liquid. The sun danced across the glass, piercing Gideon’s soul as much as his eyes.
    “That a boy.”
    “How many times have I told you to get your own paper?”
    “I lost count.”
    “And yet I save them for you.” Hollis slapped the paper against Gideon’s chest.
    Gideon grinned. He took the wrinkled newspaper and tucked it under his arm.
    “Done stole this from my pa’s still.” Hollis tipped the jar to his lips. “Taste’s rough.” He grimaced, then swallowed. “But the kick’s quick.” He stepped in front of the mark, bringing the game to a halt. “He’ll tan my hide if he finds out.” He took a long chug, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before holding out the jar. “Look atcha. An old married man.”
    Gideon grunted and clutched the moonshine to his chest. “So it seems.”
    “Bet it’s treatin’ ya good.” Hollis wagged bushy eyebrows.
    Gideon shrugged. He put the glass to his lips. The sting of alcohol hit his throat, and in an instant, he pictured Lonnie’s face. He swallowed the poor man’s liquor and wiped his mouth. He wasn’t much of a spiritual man, but if he were, he’d liken the feeling to guilt.
    Shaking his head to dislodge the image, he lowered the jar. He knew his emotions had betrayed him when Hollis smirked. Throwing shame to the wind, Gideon took another swig and let the liquid burn its way down his throat until his eyes watered. Passing off the jar, he leaned his shoulder against a tree and shook open the newspaper. “Anything interestin’?”
    “Not much.” Hollis stepped closer and tapped the center of the second page. “But says here they’re lookin’ for workers in Stuart. Towns growin’ ever since they ran the railroad through there. Stores, banks. That’s what holds folks’—”
    “I know what a bank is.”
    “Been thinkin’ about takin’ myself down there. See more of the world. Pays good too.”
    “That so?” Gideon studied the small printing and struggled to read half the words.
    Hollis nodded and folded his hands behind his head. Still standing, he tilted his face toward the sun and closed his eyes.
    Beside him, Charlie threw pebbles at the tree.
    Finally, Hollis looked at him. “Say, Gid. Sorry I missed the weddin’.”
    “Were you waiting for a formal invitation or did you just sleep too late?”
    Hollis grinned. “Sure would’ve liked to have seen the look on yer face.” He flicked up the collar of his coat. “My pa says Joel Sawyer’s crazy.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’ve heard what folks say about him.”
    Gideon sat and rested his forearms on his knees. “Yes.” He cast Hollis a sideways glance. “And I’d rather not think about it.”
    Hollis guffawed, his ruddy face turning a shade redder. “You done messed with the wrong daughter!”
    Gideon snatched up a stick and hurled it at him.
    Still laughing, Hollis ducked, but it clattered against his shoulder. “Not so big for yer britches now, eh?”
    Gideon made a face. “You talk too much.” He took another swig of moonshine.
    “Watch yourself there, Gid.” Charlie snatched the quart from him. “Save some for me.”
    “Aw, hush, Charlie.” Gideon leaned back against a