Though My Heart Is Torn Read online

  Praise for

  Though My Heart Is Torn

  “Joanne Bischof is a lovely storyteller and a unique new voice in historical fiction. Exploring the nature of love, personal responsibility, and the power of God’s faithfulness, Though My Heart Is Torn is a rich novel. Highly recommended.”

  —CINDY WOODSMALL, author of A Season for Tending and the New York Times best-seller The Harvest of Grace

  “Fresh and memorable as an Appalachian spring, Though My Heart Is Torn is heartrending yet hopeful, romantic, and riveting. Joanne Bischoff delivers a deeply drawn tale of hearts broken and mended in the light of the Lord’s healing love. Lonnie and Gideon’s story is one that stays with you long after you turn the last page. Highly recommended!”

  —LAURA FRANTZ, author of The Colonel’s Lady and Love’s Reckoning

  “Be Still My Soul introduced the ultimate villain, Joel Sawyer. He coerced his shy daughter to sing for a crowd, failed to defend her when she was assaulted, then forced her to marry her assailant. Sawyer’s up to no good again in Though My Heart Is Torn, shattering the happiness his daughter found with her husband and bringing her a heartbreak worse than death. This is a story for everyone who ever cried out ‘Why, God? It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.’ ”

  —CATHERINE RICHMOND, author of Spring for Susannah and Through Rushing Water

  “Just when I was sure characterization couldn’t be drawn any deeper, a setting any richer, or conflict any more engaging than in Be Still My Soul, Joanne Bischof delivers Though My Heart Is Torn. Joanne’s astounding ability to paint captivating word pictures of humanity and hope already has me impatiently awaiting the last book in her Cadence of Grace series. And every book after that.”

  —MONA HODGSON, author of The Sinclair Sisters of Cripple Creek series and The Quilted Hearts novellas

  Praise for

  Be Still My Soul

  “Bischof kicks off her Cadence of Grace series with a tale of love blossoming in the most daunting circumstances. A gem by an author sure to draw fans.”

  —Publisher’s Weekly

  “Bischof has written a heartwarming and inspirational historical romance that should appeal to fans of Karen Kingsbury.”

  —Library Journal

  “Beautifully set in the Appalachian Mountains, Joanne Bischof’s debut novel is one of those rare finds that will keep you up burning the midnight oil. I literally couldn’t put it down! Her characters are engaging from the moment they walk onto the stage of your heart and so real you’ll remember them long after you turn the last page. As an author of two historical novels set in the Appalachian Mountains, I was enchanted by the setting and Joanne’s deft descriptions. I can’t wait to read book two of the series.”

  —DIANE NOBLE, best-selling author

  “The rugged charm of Appalachia is the perfect backdrop to mirror the hardship and beauty of Joanne Bischof’s tender, heart-tugging debut. The author’s lyrical voice drew me in; the rich detail and authentic emotion kept me turning the pages. Lovers of historical fiction and topsy-turvy romance will find much to rejoice about in this lovely story. Be Still My Soul is a delight from start to finish!”

  —CARLA STEWART, award-winning author of Chasing Lilacs and Stardust

  “Be Still My Soul is a rare gem: a powerful and compelling story for every woman who’s known love’s real ups and downs. Author Joanne Bischof draws a poignant picture of a forced marriage and its challenges and heartache, followed by the healing and joy of transformative love. A refreshingly honest new voice makes a memorable debut!”

  —ROSSLYN ELLIOTT, award-winning author of Fairer than Morning and Sweeter than Birdsong

  “Be Still My Soul is a wonderful debut from newcomer Joanne Bischof. If you grew up loving Janette Oke, you’ll want to read this tender tale of grace, forgiveness, and redemption.”

  —SUSAN MEISSNER, author of A Sound Among the Trees

  “Be Still My Soul gives readers a refreshing dip into nineteenth-century American Appalachian life, with a story that bubbles into the heart like a clear mountain spring. Ms. Bischof’s uplifting tale hits the palate as sweetly as the pancakes and honey her characters enjoy for breakfast. You’ll leave the book feeling you’ve made new friends you won’t want to forget.”

  —LINORE ROSE BURKARD, author of Before the Season Ends and The Country House Courtship

  “A moving debut! More than just a love story, Be Still My Soul takes compelling characters on a journey of redemption in the dangerous beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Joanne Bischof’s masterful and compassionate insight into human nature won me over. I can’t wait for the second book in the Cadence of Grace series!”

  —SARAH SUNDIN, award-winning author of the Wings of Glory series

  “Joanne Bischof offers a heartrending tale set in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, where two young souls must put away their past and accept life together as man and wife. While sometimes gut-wrenching, the young couple must endure difficult trials that lead them to seek and find answers in the everlasting arms of Jesus. Be Still My Soul will stir your soul and leave you thinking about the characters long after you’ve turned the last page.”

  —DEBORAH VOGTS, author of Snow Melts in Spring and Seeds of Summer

  THOUGH MY HEART IS TORN

  PUBLISHED BY MULTNOMAH BOOKS

  12265 Oracle Boulevard, Suite 200

  Colorado Springs, Colorado 80921

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version and the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  eISBN: 978-1-60142-424-2

  Copyright © 2013 by Joanne Bischof

  Cover design by Kristopher K. Orr; cover photography by Mike Heath, Magnus Creative

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published in the United States by WaterBrook Multnomah, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House Inc., New York.

  MULTNOMAH and its mountain colophon are registered trademarks of Random House Inc.

  Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file with the Library of Congress.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Bischof, Joanne.

  Though my heart is torn : a novel / Joanne Bischof.

  p. cm — (The Cadence of Grace ; Book 2)

  ISBN 978-1-60142-423-5—ISBN 978-1-60142-424-2 (electronic)

  1. Marital confict—Fiction. 2. Life change events—Fiction. 3. Domestic fiction. I. Title.

  PS3602.I75T46 2013

  813.6—dc23

  v3.1_r1

  To those who hurt,

  and to the One who holds them,

  this is for you.

  Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.

  JOSHUA 1:9

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven
>
  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Author’s Note

  Readers Guide

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  September 1901

  Rocky Knob, Virginia

  Joel Sawyer stared at his unwelcome guests in disbelief, the roomful of faces blurring. He stumbled back and sank onto the bench. His head fell against the wall behind him. “This can’t be,” he muttered.

  “I’m afraid it is.” The reverend’s voice trembled worse than the shanty walls, which shook in the evening wind.

  Joel closed his eyes. His jaw clenched, and heat rose up his neck. Gideon O’Riley was a dead man. If the task were up to him alone, he would see it done. Wanting to strike the boy, he curled his fingers against his leg, forming a fist so tight it threatened to turn his hand numb.

  Opening his eyes, he tipped his chin and stared at the young woman who sat across from him. Cassie Allan, pretty girl. Her brown hair was stuffed into a tidy knot at the nape of her pale neck, hints of unruly curls tugging free. A glance into her eyes confirmed the trait ran deeper than appearances. Yes, unruly was the word. If only his daughter were as cunning. He chewed the inside of his cheek until it burned.

  He glanced at the reverend. “So what’s to be done?”

  The question hung heavily on the thick silence. On a bench near the fire, Bill O’Riley lowered his head, hat dangling between limp hands. Defeated. He’d yet to speak, and Joel doubted he would start now.

  Reverend Gardner shifted in his seat, bringing Joel’s attention back to the old man who was too short for his weight. More like a mole than a man. Joel disregarded the thought and forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. The reverend had stuttered his way through the unwelcome news and now sat fumbling with his hat, making Joel wish he could snatch it away, ring the sweat out, and hand it back.

  The bedroom door creaked open, and Maggie emerged from the darkened room. Huddled on the bed, his children, shadowed in the light of a single candle, made scarcely a sound. Never had there been so many people in his house. It was crushing. Maggie stepped from the bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. She offered him a weak smile.

  He ignored her.

  “I apologize for the church’s oversight.” The reverend’s droning words were unsteady, and Joel’s mind hunted for the vital points. “We’d like to put this embarrassment behind us …”

  Joel coughed. He tried to focus.

  “There is no other choice but to remedy this. Gideon and your daughter must return … if we’re to repair the Allans’ honor.”

  Glass clanged against metal. The reverend stopped and nodded to his hostess. With her eyes down, Maggie ducked her head and lit the oil lamp, fingers quick. After silently sliding the glass over the flame, she slipped from the room. The door closed without a sound behind her. One less person. If only Cassie and her pa would leave. Take Bill O’Riley and their horrid news with them.

  Joel felt the reverend’s gaze on him.

  “We must find them.” In the candlelight, shadows haunted his face.

  Leaning forward, Joel rubbed his hands together. Grit ground between his palms. The mistake was Gideon’s—his foolish son-in-law who had deceived them all. The reverend rambled on, and Joel warred with the urge to backhand him. The church’s oversight. Hah!

  It bordered on criminal.

  But Joel could not turn back time. Lonnie was already married to the scoundrel. And now they were asking him to get them home. Now.

  “And my daughter”—Joel ran a hand along the scruff of his jaw—“what’s to become of her?”

  An unwelcome voice invaded the conversation. “It’s beside the point.”

  Henry Allan. Joel glared at Cassie’s father. “Watch yourself.”

  “Gentlemen, please.” Gardner’s quivering hands reached for the space between the men.

  Henry leaned back in his chair, his face filled with a brokenness that was beyond Joel.

  Supper sat untouched on the table, and though the fire in the cast-iron stove had dwindled to meager coals, the smell of roast chicken still hung in the air. A cruel reminder of his empty stomach. If that weren’t rude enough, now Cassie’s father was giving him lip. At least Bill O’Riley was silent where he sat. The man hadn’t an argument to his name. Their children were heathens, the pair of them. The truth made Joel shift in his seat, disgust sliding through his veins.

  Joel rubbed his knuckles together to loosen the tension that swept through the rigid muscles in his arm. “Lonnie’s my oldest girl, and—”

  “And what of my oldest girl? Abandoned.” Henry’s last word slipped out in a pained whisper, and he stood, sending his chair tilting. His hands, now balled into fists, shook with each word. “Think of the pain my Cassie has endured these last months.”

  The young woman rolled her eyes, the wayward motion tipping Joel’s head back. If she were his daughter, he’d smack the look off her face. But Henry Allan was too busy gaining the reverend’s sympathy to notice. Let him have it. Joel had no desire to fight for Lonnie’s innocence. It didn’t exist. They had all been fooled.

  He should have expected it from Gideon. The wretch whom less than an hour ago he had still considered family. And look where it landed him. Joel glanced at the reverend, ignoring the man who hovered angrily beside them. He was finished with Henry Allan for the evening.

  They should pass it off, wash their hands of this disgrace. “Surely this situation is better suited for the law.”

  The reverend cleared his throat, and Joel realized he’d spoken his thought aloud.

  “We would. But we wanted to bring it to you first.” As if he’d mustered some unseen strength, Reverend Gardner’s beady eyes bored so deep into Joel’s that Joel found himself shifting. Again. “It seems that if all parties involved can come to an agreement of peace, we needn’t bring in any outside aid … and the trouble it would bring. We need only resolve the matter and see that the proper documents are in the hand of the circuit rider the next time he journeys on courthouse business.”

  “So, now I need to get them home. Is that it? Is there anything else I should know?” Joel clipped the words off, not caring if his mood leaked through. “What of the child?” he nearly spat.

  The reverend’s eyes filled with sorrow as they met his. “Will be your responsibility, I’m afraid.”

  He should have known.

  The reverend’s face grew somber. “It must be done. You must sen
d word … bid them home immediately.” He slid his hat on and rose slowly. “Or the Allans will indeed involve the law. Something, I believe, neither of us wants.” His fat throat worked. “I’d imagine that having the law knocking on your doorstep, asking questions, isn’t desired.” Firelight drew the shadows long across his face. “The law has a way of … unearthing things.”

  Joel wanted to wring that fat neck.

  Irritation shot through him that the reverend knew of the accusations. The rumors. Joel would deny the stories until his last breath. But still … a man of the law knew how to hunt for truths best left buried deep. He had no desire to test that.

  He stepped toward the door, which was rattling on its hinges in the windstorm that beat against the house. With a single nod, Bill O’Riley rose from his bench and quickly bid the room goodnight in a husky voice.

  The reverend held the door open and, with a stiff nod, motioned for the Allans. Cassie stepped out first, clutching her shawl, which fluttered and slapped with a life of its own. Joel caught the glint of her eyes in the moonlight. Her pa followed close on her heels. The wind howled. Henry Allan glanced back over his shoulder, pinning Joel with a fierce stare before pulling his hat over hair the color of dirty snow.

  The reverend hesitated and turned toward Joel. A gust of wind burst into the house, clawing its chilly fingers through Joel’s thin shirt.

  “Mr. Sawyer. Again, please know that I am sorry. This, uh, sort of thing does not happen … often.”

  “Well, I should think not,” Joel snapped, not wishing for an apology but for an empty house. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in bed and forget this evening had ever taken place.

  “But it must be remedied.” Reverend Gardner’s words choked to a raspy whisper.

  Joel knew the Allans were as unhappy with the revelation as he was. The reverend’s gaze shifted between his eyes.

  The small man continued. “You do know—”