Beloved Protector (Heartsong Presents)

by Darlene Mindrup

  She felt herself sinking in a maelstrom of emotion. It would be so easy to give in to the pleasure of the moment, especially knowing that it might never come again.

  Oh, how she wanted to believe that he loved her as she loved him, but she had known him far too long. Too many women had come and gone in his life for her to take him seriously. He couldn’t possibly understand the depth of love between a man and a woman when they came together with the Lord’s blessing.

  That thought was like a drenching in the cold waters of the river. She struggled against Andronicus’s hold until he finally realized that she was serious and he pulled back slightly, staring in confusion into her stormy eyes.

  She saw him mentally shake himself and he slowly released her. Only now did she realize that her body was trembling. He noticed, too. Turning away from her, he drew his knees up against his chest and pushed his hair back with hands that trembled much like her own. He blew out a strong gust of breath.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her huskily. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Pain rippled through her in wave upon wave. Hadn’t she already known that his feelings didn’t match her own? She was just a debt to be repaid.

  “Why?”

  He turned to her in surprise. “What?”

  “Why are you sorry?”

  He opened and closed his mouth several times, reminding her of a fish out of water. Frowning, he told her, “I have no right to give you hope that there could be some kind of relationship between us.”

  Tapat flinched. He was only saying what she already knew; he had only done what he felt was his duty because she had once saved his life, but he was also a man with a man’s desires. She turned her head so that he couldn’t see how much he had hurt her. Pulling a blade of grass, she began chewing on it as she looked out over the Jordan Valley.

  “It was only a kiss,” she told him, surprised that her voice was steady.

  Gripping her chin between his thumb and finger, he turned her to face him again. Anger darkened his cinnamon-brown eyes.

  “I don’t believe that! Not for someone like you.”

  She jerked away from him, climbing quickly to her feet. The peace she had felt earlier had long since disappeared. Another sure sign that she needed to get away from him.

  “You know nothing about me!” she spat angrily. “Not really.”

  They glared at each other for several seconds, neither knowing what to say. All she knew was that he was leaving and she would probably never see him again. She absolutely would not break down in front of him again. “I need to go home,” she told him, turning and walking away.

  She heard him get to his feet and quickened her pace.

  He caught up with her and pulled her around to face him, and for the first time in a long time, she felt real fear at his intimidating presence. He was every inch the affronted male.

  * * *

  Andronicus gripped her upper arms tightly, but seeing her flinch, he loosened his hold slightly and checked his quick temper.

  “I know a lot about you,” he disagreed testily. “I know you are kind and loving, generous and giving. You are beautiful inside and out.” He could easily have added to the list. She was loyal to a fault. If she knew that he loved her, she would wait for him; she would wait an eternity if she had to, giving up any hope of a normal life of family and children. He couldn’t do that to her. “Any man would be pleased to have you,” he finished quietly.

  “But I’m not for someone like you,” she said softly, and he didn’t bother to deny it.

  “I’ve been a long time without a woman,” he told her, rubbing salt in the wound. “Yes, I find you desirable, but you were right when you said we were too different.”

  He could see her fighting the tears. “Please let me go,” she begged, her tear-laden voice twisting his insides.

  “Tapat...”

  She pushed his hands away angrily. “You’ve done your duty, now just leave me alone!”

  Turning, she ran, and this time, clenching his fists against the desire to go after her, he let her go.

  * * *

  Tapat ran, her tears blinding her. She stumbled, picked herself up and moved on.

  She had known all along that this would happen. Isn’t that exactly why the Lord had warned about being yoked with an unbeliever? And although she and Andronicus weren’t married, they might as well have been because, in her heart, she knew she would never love another. They were as bound in her mind as if they had spoken the vows. She had allowed herself to love him when she had known better.

  It was so easy to empathize with Andronicus’s servant, Nasab. He wanted to go home to his own country, but he felt compelled by honor and duty to stay with Andronicus. She wouldn’t wish that for anyone. Especially not Andronicus.

  Honor and duty. What cold words when applied to a person’s reason for staying with you. Andronicus had felt honor bound to bring her safely to Pella, but now that he had fulfilled his obligation, he had another duty, one that she didn’t envy him at all. One that would in all probability cost him his life.

  She stopped, horror washing over her. If Andronicus died, he would be lost for all eternity, sentenced to go where the lost angels who had given up their place in heaven were sent. The Lord had said that there would be no light, and there would be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Utter darkness. Incredible anguish. Gehenna was the absolute opposite of heaven, two places she had yet to discuss with Andronicus. Had Lucius? Had Anna? Did he have any idea what turning his back on Elohim would cost him?

  He might not, but she did. The picture it invoked made her tremble all over. She could almost see Andronicus writhing in pain, crying out in anguish, tormented by the thought that it was for eternity and he had rejected the Savior that could have spared him. Like the rich man and Lazarus that the Lord had spoken about, she could see herself on one side of the divide and Andronicus on the other, begging for just a drop of water to quench his thirst.

  Groaning at the picture in her mind, the tears that had lessened now returned in full force. Guilt forced her to stop. How many days had they traveled together, yet she hadn’t spoken of Christ and salvation to anyone except Crassus, and that was only because he’d asked.

  She turned, intent on retracing her steps and remedying this oversight, but another thought stopped her. They had exchanged harsh words and she still felt defenseless against the feelings he could inspire in her just by looking at her. She wasn’t certain she could cope with such emotions just now. She had come so close to losing herself in his kisses. So close. Wisdom dictated that it would be best if she kept a safe distance. Especially now.

  Perhaps Crassus could reason with him where she had failed. Soldier to soldier. He would be at the gathering of believers tonight. She would talk to him about it then.

  Chapter 16

  Tapat hurried toward the city center, where she knew Andronicus and his men would be preparing to depart for Jerusalem. At the meeting last evening, Crassus had informed her that they would begin the return journey today. Heads close together, they had discussed ways and means of reaching Andronicus with the saving grace of Elohim’s perfect love.

  Crassus had impressed her with his desire to absorb everything he could about the Lord Jesus. He had sat in on the meetings every night, telling Tapat that he needed to learn as much as possible before he returned to Jerusalem.

  She well understood his reasoning. He might be facing eternity in the very near future. She prayed daily that would not be so.

  Last night, Jason had read from Paul’s letter to the church in Rome. Crassus had hung on every word, as had Tapat. She had never heard this letter discussed before. The one statement that had remained imbedded in her memory was what Paul had said about the Lord working all things for the good of those who love Him.

  In her heart she k
new that, but too often her head got in her way. It was good to be reminded of the hardships Paul had faced. Even death at the hands of Nero. Yet he had remained faithful to the very end.

  Crassus had left the meeting determined to reach not only his commander with the truth of Elohim’s saving grace, but also the others in his group. She didn’t blame Crassus for his hesitancy in approaching his commander. Andronicus was an intimidating presence at the best of times. His ability to hide his feelings behind a bland mask could be very off-putting.

  Despite what had passed between Andronicus and herself, Tapat couldn’t allow him to leave without wishing him Godspeed.

  She found the soldiers already seated on their horses on the verge of departing and surrounded by the city’s magistrates. The lead magistrate handed Andronicus a document, and then he and the others left to attend the forum.

  Andronicus looked up and saw her. She couldn’t miss the relief that passed through his eyes. Did he regret their last encounter as much as she did? If only they hadn’t stepped beyond the bounds of friendship, they could have parted as the friends they had always been.

  Crassus noticed her and smiled. He dismounted and came to her, taking her hands into his and squeezing gently. “I will miss you.”

  Tapat dragged her gaze away from Andronicus and focused on the young man standing before her.

  “As I will you. Take care, Crassus, and may Elohim be with you.”

  “And you,” he replied softly. Releasing her, he remounted and stood patiently awaiting the order to move out, but Andronicus gave no such command. Instead he walked his horse over to Tapat.

  She looked up, an apology ready on her lips, but the words she was about to utter died at the look in his eyes. Her foolish heart responded to that look in a way that told her it refused to be repressed any longer.

  “Amo te, mea vita,” he said. Although she did not understand the language, his soft voice sent little thrills parading through her.

  She saw his men glance at him in surprise, then quickly look away.

  She frowned, ready to ask his meaning, but he continued, “May your God be with you.”

  Understanding dawned. He was wishing her well. She gratefully accepted the peace offering he extended.

  She took a deep breath, willing herself not to be a disgrace by bursting into tears. She was beyond frustrated at her seeming penchant lately for crying at the least provocation. What had happened to her ability to bury her feelings deep inside?

  “I will pray for you,” she answered just as softly, and he gave a brief nod in acceptance of her return offering of peace.

  They stared at each other several long seconds before his lips set in a grim line and he reined his horse about and dug in his heels. The others quickly turned their mounts and followed.

  Tapat watched them galloping away until they were out of sight. She was too numb to cry anymore. Her life had taken so many unexpected twists and turns in the past two weeks, suffered so many losses, and she wasn’t certain how to make herself move ahead. What was she supposed to do with her life now?

  She returned to her home, stood in the doorway and looked around at the little residence she had been able to purchase with the silver Andronicus had given her. It was small yet had several rooms. It had been abandoned long ago but was still in fairly good condition. As yet, she hadn’t even bothered to clean it.

  She had spent every waking moment at the waterfall since giving Hazaq to his new parents; she had prayed to Elohim for hours on end before she had finally found some measure of peace. She had even forsaken the evening’s assembly of believers the past several days knowing that to see Hazaq with his new mother would undo all the harmony she had managed to achieve.

  That thought alone made her shut the door once again and head to her favorite spot near the waterfall. But after her time spent here with Andronicus, that place held too many unhappy memories for her to find the tranquility she was seeking.

  Instead, she decided to go and find Jason. As an elder in the church, he had his finger on the pulse of the Christian community and she was looking for a new purpose in life. The thought of being idle was anathema to her. Christ asked her to serve, and serve she would until she could do so no longer.

  The Apostle Paul had told the believers to rejoice in every circumstance. That didn’t mean to be happy but to rejoice in the knowledge that whatever befell you, Christ would always be with you. Even the Apostle Peter had said that suffering would hone one’s faith.

  She smiled wryly, her whole being darkened with an ache she was trying so hard to deny. Well, if suffering would increase her faith, then surely before long she would be able to move one of the surrounding mountains.

  A servant let her into Jason’s house and led her to the peristyle, where she found him pottering among his flower beds.

  He glanced up at her, instant sympathy creasing his elderly features. He rose and motioned her to come farther into the garden.

  “Come in, child.”

  She swallowed back the tears that had been hovering near the surface all morning. She had shed a river of them lately, and tears never solved anyone’s problems.

  Jason offered her a seat on the bench near the fountain, then seated himself beside her.

  “I understand Crassus and the others left this morning.”

  She nodded, dropping her head to allow her hair to fall forward and hide the signs of distress on her face.

  That he didn’t immediately answer spoke well of his wisdom. What was there to say? Surely a man of his insight had noticed her intense feelings for Andronicus.

  “What can I do for you, Tapat?” he finally asked, his soft voice soothing her frayed nerves.

  She focused on her fingers, twining and untwining them. “I was hoping that you might know of a way for me to do something to help the believers here.”

  Several seconds passed before he said, “I see.”

  And she had the distinct impression that he really did.

  “Come with me,” he said, rising and holding out his hand. “Perhaps I do know of something.”

  Tapat looked up and beheld his face, which radiated with excitement. She frowned but trustingly placed her hand into his.

  Jason led her from the garden and through the atrium to the door that led onto the street, talking all the while about inconsequential trivialities. Whatever had excited him earlier he was keeping to himself.

  He stopped in front of a small house in the section of the city she had learned was where most of the Christians lived. Her own house was just up the street, almost on the edge of the city.

  “I want you to meet someone,” he told her, knocking on the wooden door.

  A tired-looking woman answered the door as she wiped her hands on a towel. Her eyes lit up when they saw Jason.

  “Jason! Welcome!”

  She noticed Tapat and looked at Jason in question.

  “Hello, Acta. I wanted to introduce you to Tapat and introduce her to Abigail, as well.”

  A look of vexation crossed Acta’s face. Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she told him, “Go right ahead, but I must warn you, she’s in one of her moods.”

  Jason smiled sympathetically, then took Tapat’s arm. He led her through the small house and into a section that had obviously been added recently. The new clay was at odds with the older, faded portion of the house, which was beginning to crumble.

  Only one door was in this section. Jason knocked on it.

  “Go away and leave me alone.”

  The elderly female voice held a noticeable quaver, and Tapat glanced at Jason curiously. His halfhearted smile was hardly reassuring. He sighed.

  “Abigail is a rather...difficult woman,” he told her quietly. Raising his voice, he called, “Abigail, it’s Jason.”

  This pronounc
ement was followed by a long silence. Jason waited patiently until he was bidden to enter in a begrudging voice.

  “Come in, if you must.”

  Rather than be affronted, Jason grinned at Tapat’s raised eyebrows. “She’s quite a handful, but right now she is doing a lot of good helping those who are less fortunate.”

  He opened the door and went inside, Tapat following close behind.

  An elderly woman sat on a sleeping couch, her straggly gray hair flying about her head in a disorderly way. She was missing most of her teeth, which made her mouth droop in a perpetual frown.

  But it was her eyes that caught Tapat’s attention. They were focused on Jason and they glowed with a pleasure she very much doubted he was aware of. There was something else in those faded brown orbs that Tapat doubted the others were aware of either; they were full of pain. It was the same look she had seen in so many others who were dying in the Valley of Lepers.

  “Abigail,” Jason said softly, “I want you to meet someone.”

  Suspicion suddenly flooded the old woman’s face. She turned to Tapat, the welcome expression for Jason disappearing in an instant. She frowned at Tapat.

  “Who is that?”

  Jason gave Tapat a reassuring smile and gently pushed her toward the bed.

  “Abigail, this is Tapat. She has recently come to us from Jerusalem.”

  Abigail’s eye’s opened wide at this declaration. “Jerusalem.” The word came out on a longing sigh.

  Tapat went closer to the bed. “You are from Jerusalem?” she asked.

  Abigail’s face went suddenly blank as she looked a long way into the past. “Many years ago.”

  She was silent several moments, lost in her own memories. Jason and Tapat waited patiently until she once more became aware of their presence.

  “Don’t just stand there,” she snapped. “Sit down, the both of you.”

  Tapat seated herself on a small stool at the foot of the bed, and Jason took his place beside the bed on the only chair in the room. He reached out and took the old woman’s hand.