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

Conversation falling by the wayside from sheer hunger. Glancing out the window, he spotted a stout man in a dark coat stride past. His top hat glinted in the morning light. Gideon grabbed his coat. He downed a heavy gulp of coffee, all but scalding his tongue. Jumping to his feet, he gripped Tal’s shoulder. “I will meet you at the merchant’s as soon as I’m done.”
    “Sure thing, son.” Tal glanced out the window toward the courthouse. He waved Gideon forward. “Don’t worry none about me. You git!”
    “See you in a little bit.” Gideon squeezed Tal’s shoulder, then darted out into the cold. Jacket in one hand, he barreled down the street, not caring about who stopped and stared. The wooden sidewalk thundered beneath his boots as he ran. Judge Monroe started up the steps of the courthouse as Gideon crossed the street.
    “Sir.” Gideon moved in his path, walking backwards. Panting. “Please, sir. I need to talk with you.”
    “Yes. You and half the people in this county.”
    “Please, sir.” He gulped a breath of air. “Ten minutes.”
    The older man glanced up, and something registered in his eyes. “Not you again.”
    Still walking backwards, Gideon had to step out of the way of a pair of ladies in autumn-hued dresses.
    Nearly to the massive doors, the judge adjusted the cuff of his shirt. He glanced at Gideon, his eyebrows so thick they shadowed his dark eyes. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
    “No.” He didn’t. “And I’ll be back tomorrow if need be.”
    When the judge stopped walking, Gideon halted.
    “And then I’ll be back the next day. Until you talk to me. Ten minutes. It’s all I’m asking for.”
    Shaking his head, Judge Monroe motioned toward the building. “I’ll give you five. But this better be the end of it.”
    “Thank you, sir.” Gideon followed him into the courthouse and past the wide-eyed receptionist he met the day before. Her perfume had changed, as had her hairstyle. Gideon nodded cordially, noting a twitch of amusement around her mouth. Uncertain as to how unusual this all was, he simply followed the judge down a corridor to a door with an etched-glass window.
    Gideon stepped aside as the other man slid a key in the lock.
    “This way.”
    The judge strode into his office and gruffly stuffed back the curtains on the windows. Gideon stood in the doorway.
    “Sit.” After working his way around the massive desk, the judge set a leather case beside his chair and sat with a sigh.
    Gideon sank into the wooden chair across from him.
    “What in tarnation can I do to get you out of my office so I can go on with my day?”
    Gideon scratched his head. “I need to know if I’m married or not.”
    The man leaned back in his chair. “You’re crazier than I thought.”
    “No, you see …” Gideon shifted his feet, and before he could give in to the heat rising up his neck, he explained his predicament. His past.
    Judge Monroe stared at him blankly as he spoke. Slowly, he tipped his chin back. “I remember you.” His face shadowed even as his thick hand rested lightly on the messy stack of papers beside him. “You caused a great deal of trouble for me. A
great
deal of trouble. Some months ago.”
    How he believed it. “Yes sir.” Gideon scooted forward on the small chair. “I’m very sorry—”
    The gray-haired man held up a hand before fiddling with one side of his mustache.
    Gideon eyed the stack of papers on the desk. The judge followed his gaze to the mountain of cases beside him. Predicaments that were no doubt ahead of Gideon and Cassie’s.
    “When is your hearing date?”
    “I don’t have one.”
    “And the young lady? Your wife?”
    “She’s not here.”
    His eyebrows lifted. “You’re not giving me much to work with. I’m a judge for the state of Virginia, Mr. O’Riley. Not a miracle worker.”
    “Please.” Gideon said, chiding the tremor in his voice. “I need my son.” He needed Lonnie.
    Twisting his mustache between two