Francine Rivers

by Redeeming Love

“And you still don’t believe me.”

  “Oh, Michael. Life’s done things to me. I’m so full of…” she paused, swallowing hard and pressing her lips tightly together, looking past him, unable to look into his eyes.

  “Of what?” He stroked the tendrils of hair back from her temples.

  “Shame,” she managed thickly. Her eyes burned, and she struggled to push the emotions down again. She couldn’t give in to tears, not even one, but she wanted him to know how she felt. “I don’t know what I did wrong. I never knew, but I understood from the earliest time I can remember that I was never going to be good enough to deserve a decent life.” And that her very presence took away the decency of others. Would it take away Michael’s eventually as well? She couldn’t bear the thought of that happening to him.

  “So how do you explain this?”

  She reached up and touched his face. “I don’t. I can’t. I just know it’ll never last.”

  Michael’s eyes filled with tears. She broke his heart. She always had. “I’ve never turned away from you. Nor will I ever. It’s always been the other way around.”

  “I know, but if I gave you everything I had, it wouldn’t be enough. I don’t have enough for a man like you.”

  He took her hand and pressed it hard against his heart. “Then take what you lack from me. Let what I have make the difference.”

  Her heart was so full she hurt. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered tremulously. How could she, of all women, be loved so much by a man like this? Oh, God, if you are there listening, why did you do this to him?

  For you, beloved.

  A shiver went through her body, and she felt the hair rise over her head.

  Not for me. Never for me. She closed her mind tightly to the still, quiet voice.

  “What is it?” Michael asked, seeing her sudden pallor.

  He was so handsome, but she was drawn to him for something other than that. Maybe it was as he said. Something unseen. There was something inside him that drew her like a moth to flame, but it was a flame that didn’t scorch or destroy. It lit something deep inside her so that she felt she was becoming part of him. He gave her life meaning. It wasn’t a matter of survival anymore. It was something else she couldn’t even yet define or understand, and yet it kept beckoning to her.

  And what of Paul, Angel?

  A frown flickered across her brow. Michael lay beside her and tipped her chin toward him. “Tell me.”

  She marveled at how he was sensitive to her every thought, but could she reveal this without driving the wedge in further between him and his friend? Paul wasn’t wrong about her. He saw her as the rest of the world must, as a woman who sold her body for money and nothing more.

  She shook her head. Michael kissed her as though he wanted to give her his hope. “I wish I could change things,” she said sadly when he raised his head to search her eyes. “I wish I had come to you clean and whole.”

  “So that I would love you more than I do now?” he asked with a tender smile.

  So that I might be worthy of you. She drew his head down and kissed him. “I can give you pleasure.”

  “You please me just as you are.”

  She wanted more than anything to please him in all ways.

  Remember all I taught you, Angel, Duke’s voice came unbidden. Use it and use him.

  When Michael smiled at her, the dark voice lost its power. “No barriers,” Michael said. “Nothing between us.”

  So Angel gave herself up. She had no thought for anything but Michael. She had always thought a man’s body ugly. Michael was beautiful, and she worshiped him.

  Michael rejoiced in her. “You’re like the earth… the Sierras, the fertile valley, and the sea.” He drew her up so they were sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing one another. She didn’t know what he had in mind until he took her hands and bowed his head. He prayed aloud, giving thanks for the pleasure they had taken in one another.

  Angel’s heart hammered violently. What was his God going to think of this? When Michael finished praying, he smiled at her, the glow in his eyes easing her fear.

  “No lightning, beloved,” he said, understanding. “All good things come down from the Father. Even this.” He lay back and drew her to him, holding her close until they both slept.

  For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds

  that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never

  enter the kingdom of heaven.

  JESUS, MATTHEW 5 : 20

  Paul sat brooding before his fireplace, a jug in his lap and his wedding picture in his hand. Tessie had been gone two years now, and he wanted to keep her memory alive. He didn’t want to forget what she looked like. But lately, until he held the picture, all he could remember was that she was dark and had Michael’s smile. He tried to remember what her skin felt like and how her voice sounded, but it was all fading away, all except the sweet memory of what they had shared so briefly. The empty, aching loneliness she had left behind was all that remained firm. Laying the picture aside, Paul drew long on the whiskey. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes wearily. He hadn’t seen Michael since he had come and asked him to help him find Angel. He couldn’t forget that day or his own regret.

  “She’s run off again?”

  “Yes. I have to find her.”

  “Let her go. You’re better off without a woman like her.”

  Michael’s eyes blazed. “When are you going to open your eyes?”

  “When are you?” Paul shot back. “If she loved you, don’t you think she’d stay? You wouldn’t be able to drive her out. Michael, when are you going to see what she is?” When Michael turned his horse away, his anger had erupted.

  “Look for her in a bordello. Isn’t that where you found her in the first place?” Swearing, he’d gone back to turning the soil with his spade, and he hadn’t been able to get rid of the fallow feeling in his heart since. Not even when Michael had come back.

  It was clear he hadn’t found any trace of Angel. He had pitied Michael then. He wasn’t sorry Michael hadn’t found Angel. He was sorry Michael was torn up about losing her. She wasn’t worth grieving over.

  “She does love me, Paul. She does. You just don’t understand her.”

  Paul left it alone. He didn’t want to know any more about Angel than he already did. One day in her company had been enough to sour his soul for a lifetime.

  Michael stayed, and they talked about crops and the land, but it wasn’t the same as it had been before Angel came into their lives. It didn’t matter whether she was gone or not. She was still between them. “You’re making progress,” Michael said before leaving. “That field looks good.”

  “The work would go faster with a horse. Too bad I lost mine on the trail.”

  “Take this one.” He took off the saddle while Paul stood dumbfounded. “As soon as your crops are in you’ll have enough to buy another.” Ashamed, Paul couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. Michael shouldered the saddle. “You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you, Paul?” He headed for home.

  A few days later, Paul took a side of venison to the Altmans and learned Michael was on his way to Sacramento to bring Angel home. Joseph had sent word she was working in a general mercantile. A likely story. He’d bet everything she was selling herself to wintering miners. Six ounces of gold for fifteen minutes. Maybe more than that to make up for the time lost on Michael.

  “You don’t look very happy about the news,” Miriam said, watching him closely.

  “I’m sure Michael’s happy,” he said and went for his horse. “He’s a fool,” he muttered under his breath.

  Miriam followed him. “He loves her very much.”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  “What would you call it?”

  He glanced back at Miriam as he slung the reins over the horse’s head, but he didn’t answer.

  “Why don’t you like Amanda?” Miriam asked.

  Paul almost blurted out that her name wasn’t A
manda. It was Angel, and she was anything but that, but he kept his tongue. “I’ve got my reasons,” he said. The saddle creaked as he mounted.

  “You were in love with her, weren’t you?” she said flatly.

  Paul gave a harsh laugh, his grip tightening on the reins. “Did she tell you that?”

  “No. I guessed.”

  “Well, you guessed wrong, little Miriam.” He turned his horse before she could ask more questions.

  Taking a step, she called after him, “Don’t call me little Miriam! I’m sixteen years old.”

  He didn’t need the reminder. Mocking her, he tipped his hat. “Good day, ma’am,” he drawled and rode away.

  She came over the next morning to invite him to dinner. “Venison steaks,” she said, “and Mama is baking apple pie.” She was wearing a pretty yellow dress that made him notice the slender curves of her young body. She noticed the direction of his gaze and blushed. Miriam’s dark eyes had a velvety glow to them. “Well?” she said.

  “Well, what?” he said uneasily.

  Her mouth curved. “Will you come this afternoon?”

  She had an enticing smile. Dismayed, he was terse. “No,” he said and nodded toward the unplowed section of field. “I’ll be working through until dusk.” He clicked to the horse and pushed down hard on the plow, hoping she would take the hint and leave. Had he known she was coming over, he would have put a shirt on. As it was, he was stripped to the waist and had a dusty neckerchief tied around his forehead to keep the sweat out of his eyes. A fine sight he was for an innocent young girl.

  Paul couldn’t get it out of his head that if Miriam Altman had come along a few months earlier, Michael wouldn’t be in the mess he was. Miriam was just right for Michael. If that harlot ran off again, which she undoubtedly would, maybe Michael would come to see it, too. This girl would come to his marriage bed a virgin and stay faithful to him to death. She wasn’t the kind to cause a man grief. She would give him the children he wanted and make him happy.

  “You have to eat sometime,” Miriam said, walking beside him.

  He didn’t look at her. The less he looked at her the better.

  “Papa and Mama would like to thank you.”

  “They said their thanks yesterday. Tell them they’re welcome.”

  “Don’t you like children?”

  “Children?” he said, lost. “I like children well enough. What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “I just thought you didn’t want to come to dinner because there are so many of us.”

  She walked with her hands loosely clasped behind her. His gaze swept her body and his mouth went dry.

  “What was your wife like, Paul?”

  The question took him off guard. “Sweet. She was very sweet.”

  “Was she tall?”

  “About your size.” Tessie had been smaller, and she’d had light brown hair rather than luxuriant black. And her eyes. He couldn’t remember what color Tessie’s eyes were when he looked into the deep, soft brown of Miriam’s.

  “Was she pretty?”

  He looked at Miriam, and his heart raced.

  “Your wife,” she said. “Was she pretty?”

  He tried to remember Tessie’s face and couldn’t. Not with Miriam staring at him the way she was. Her shy fascination with his body gave him a growing panic. “She was very pretty,” he said and pulled the horse to an abrupt halt. “I think you’d better go home. I’m sure your mother’s wondering why you’re taking so long.”

  Miriam’s face went red. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to keep you. Maybe you’ll come for dinner another time.” He saw her quick tears as she turned and hurried away. He almost reached out to her but stopped himself just in time. He clenched his hand and watched her go, an ache in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t meant to be cruel, but if he apologized, she might stay, and she was altogether too tempting for that.

  Paul never expected her to come back.

  He was washing at the well when he saw her coming across a grassy field. His heart jumped. Her younger sister Leah was with her this time. He pulled his shirt on and buttoned it while waiting for them to reach him and tell him what they wanted.

  “Mama sent me,” Miriam said apologetically. Her eyes barely touched his. She held out the basket she was carrying.

  “Thanks,” he said roughly, taking it. His hand lightly brushed hers, and her eyes came up. “She needn’t have bothered,” he said.

  “Oh, it was Miriam’s idea,” Leah said, mortifying her older sister further.

  “Hush, Leah,” Miriam said, blushing. She took her sister’s hand. “We’d better go. Enjoy your dinner, Paul.”

  Paul watched the gentle sway of her hips. I’ve got no right to be feeling this way about a girl like her. “Tell your mother I’ll bring the basket over.”

  “No hurry,” Miriam called back. “I’ll come get it tomorrow.”

  That was exactly what he didn’t want her to do. He would ride over at first light and leave the basket at their door. He put it down and brought up another bucket of cold water. Dousing his face, he cooled himself down. He was in bad shape when just looking at a pretty, sixteen-year-old girl made him feel this way. He ought to ride to the nearest camp and stop in at the local brothel. The very idea sickened him.

  He took Miriam’s basket into the cabin. The grate was cold. He lit a fire and ate. He was feeling the same emptiness he had when Tessie died. Those first months without her had been bad, but he had had the struggle to survive the Sierras to occupy his mind. When he and Michael reached this land, he poured himself into building the cabin. Then the grief had struck hard. The fierce pain of loss had been too much. He couldn’t look out at the fields of wildflowers without thinking about how much Tessie would have loved it. Their own land in California had been a shared dream. It was empty and meaningless without her.

  When the gold rush hit, he was ready to leave. In the beginning, he had lost himself in the excitement of working the streams, the chance of getting rich just beyond his reach. The excitement quickly wore off. Life narrowed down again to dawn-to-dusk labor. All he made was enough for food and a day in town to get drunk and go to a brothel. Even while taking his pleasure, he couldn’t rid himself of the pointlessness of his life—and the shame of it. He knew what he bought was counterfeit. He knew because he had had the real thing with Tess.

  Angel’s words came flooding back, hard and cold. “I know what I am, mister, but you call yourself his brother.”

  When he gave up looking for gold and came back here to his land, he thought he had hit rock bottom. He had been wrong. He swore to himself he would make it up to Michael. He would leave Miriam Altman alone so that when the time came and Angel left him again, there would be a decent girl waiting for him.

  He tried to sleep and couldn’t. He couldn’t get Miriam out of his head. He would close his eyes and see her dark, smiling eyes. Giving up, he put another log on the fire and took his wedding picture off the mantel. He stared at Tessie’s face again. Although it was still precious to him, it roused no deep emotion, not as it had a year ago.

  A year ago, he hadn’t thought the pain would ever go away. But then, a year ago, he thought he would never fall in love again.

  “Amanda!” Miriam cried out, racing down the hillside. “Come quick! It’s Ruthie!”

  Angel ran toward her. “What’s happened?”

  “She’s up a tree, and I can’t get her down. Help me!”

  Angel raised her skirts and ran up the hill after Miriam. She was breathless when they reached the gnarled old oak. Heart in her throat, Angel looked up at the child perched twenty feet above on a thick branch. “Oh! How did you get up there, you little mouse?”

  Ruthie waved down at her.

  “Ruthie!” Angel cried out in alarm. “Hold on! Don’t you budge! We’ll get you down.”

  “I tried to climb, and I couldn’t,” Miriam said. “You give it a try.”

  “Me? I’ve never climbed
a tree in my life!”

  “Mandy, are you going to help me down?” Ruthie called down.

  “You’d better hurry,” Miriam said, pushing at her. “There’s no time to lose.” She bent and cupped her hands.

  Angel’s skirts got in the way. “Wait a minute. I can’t do it like this.” She bent over, grabbed the back hem, and pulled it up between her legs, shoving it into her belt. She climbed up onto the first branch with Miriam’s help. “Don’t be scared, Ruthie! Just don’t move.”

  “I won’t,” Ruthie said, swinging her feet back and forth and seeming to have a wonderful time.

  “What am I doing?” Angel muttered under her breath as she scrambled higher. She thought she heard laughter.

  “Don’t look down!” Miriam called up to her. “You’re doing fine.”

  Angel wasn’t sure whether Miriam was speaking to her or Ruthie as she made her way up through the branches. When she was within a few feet, she saw that Ruthie had a rope tied around her waist holding her securely to the trunk. She couldn’t have fallen if she wanted to. What was worse, the little imp was grinning from ear to ear. “Isn’t it fun, Mandy?”

  “Ever seen your cabin from this vantage point?” Miriam said, just below her.

  Angel’s face flamed in anger. “You scared me half to death! What do you think you’re doing?”

  Miriam climbed past her and straddled on a large branch. “You said it yourself. You’ve never climbed a tree in your life.” She grinned mischievously. “It’s about time you did.”

  “You pulled her up by yourself? She might have been hurt.”

  “We helped,” Jacob said, coming down from a higher branch. Andrew was just above him, and Leah peeked out from behind the trunk. They all looked so pleased with themselves, she forgot her anger and laughed. A tree full of magpies. Pulling herself up, she straddled a thick branch.

  “You did real well for your first time,” Andrew said, walking along a limb.

  Angel gave him a mock frown. “You should be working with your father.”

  “He gave me the day off. He wanted to take Mama out for a walk.”

  Miriam laughed. “I told them we’d go for a walk instead.” She lowered her voice so only Angel could hear. “One of the disadvantages to having a one room cabin is the lack of privacy.” She leaned her head against the trunk. “When I get married, my husband and I are going to build a loft for the children, and we’re going to have a nice cozy bedroom next to the kitchen.”