Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch) (18 page)

“Amelia, it’s me, Jeremiah.” He withdrew the cloth. “I’m
not going to hurt you. I could never hurt you. Do you hear me, Amelia?”

“Jeremiah?” She recognized the voice, but then the
cloud came over her again and the terrible man in the woods was back. She felt
the cloth on the nape of her neck, the moist coolness turned into the filthy,
vile man’s mouth. He was kissing her there. She tried to fight him, but her
strength was gone and her arms wouldn’t work.

“Oh, please, stop. No! Lord, please save me! Only You
can save me!”

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Paul had rushed the horse as fast as possible without
hurting the animal toward the sound of the guns being shot off. They led him
toward the lumber camp. Had the Cowans found her? Then out from the covering of
the forest he rode into the camp. He dismounted even before the animal had a
chance to come to a complete stop.

His heart still pounding in a frenzy, he ran up to
where several of the men who had been looking for Amelia had gathered outside
the Cowan’s small office, which also served as their sleeping quarters. They
were evidently forming a search party to hunt for someone.

“Where is she?” he demanded, more than asked.

“In our office.” Before Aaron could say anything more,
Paul headed toward the small shanty.

As he threw open the door and stepped inside, his
heart fractured, unprepared for what he saw. He rushed to where Amelia lie,
knelt beside the cot, and gently took her hand in his, shaking almost as much
as she was. He looked at her incredulously for a moment.

“What kind of evil monster could be capable of doing
something like this?”

Jeremiah just shook his head. “I still can’t believe
it happened.” He dabbed another wound just below her collarbone.

Amelia moaned and wrenched and called out
despairingly, “Please, stop. No more. I can’t take any more. Jeremiah, why won’t
you make him stop?”

He withdrew the cloth again. “She came running into
camp about twenty minutes ago,” he quietly said to Paul. “Aaron found her. At
first she recognized him, but then slumped into this state. She’s been like
this ever since. She recognized me once, but I guess she’s confused and thinks
I’m
him
.”

Paul brushed her hair with one hand and continued to
hold hers with the other. He bent close to her, gently and calmly calling to
her, “Amelia, Angel. It’s me, Paul. I’m here. You’re safe at the logging camp. The
bad man is gone now.”

She flung her hand, wildly trying to keep him from touching
her. “No. Don’t touch me. Please, stop.” She sobbed.

Paul held her hand in both of his and he kissed it and
began to pray aloud. “Dear Lord, help her to get her bearings back. Help her to
somehow get past this and come back to me. Only you know how to heal her
wounded spirit and emotions and make her whole again. Help Amelia to understand
that she’s safe now. Please, remove this cloud that seems to have covered her. Let
your love cover her now. I give Amelia into your hands---”

“Paul?” Her sobbing stopped and she looked him in the
eye.

“Yes, Angel. I’m here. You’re safe now.” He stroked
her hair again.

“I knew you would find me.” Her tense body began to
relax and a slight smile tried to light her swollen face.

He kissed her temple, and she didn’t protest. The
cloud of confusion lifted from her and she’d recognized him.

“God saved me from the evil one, Paul. I prayed for
the Lord to rescue me, and He provided a way for me to escape with my virtues
still intact.”

Paul closed his eyes and bit his lip, grateful beyond
words to his heavenly Father for having spared her from that particular
scourge.

“Then God hid me from the man. He stumbled right by me
when I was crouched under a tree. I felt an urging within me to go, so I
started to run. I knew God was fighting a tremendous battle for me tonight,
Paul. I felt Him pulling me, showing me which way to turn. And he led me right
up to this camp.”

“Thank you, Jesus, for this miracle of her safe
return.” Paul kissed her hand as a tear trickled from the corner of his eye.

“Paul?” she asked as if questioning whether he was
actually there.

“I’m here, my Angel.”

“Please, don’t let yourself become angry at this man. The
roots of bitterness go down deep. You must forgive him. He is living his life totally
unaware of his need for Jesus. He’s just a poor, lost sinner, like you and I
were before we asked Jesus to forgive us and come into our hearts. Put your
anger into God’s hands, and He will see that justice is served. He will either
show mercy on this man or show his vengeance. But pray for him---that he will
see God’s mercy.”

“Harrumph!” Jeremiah said and stormed out of the
shanty.

Paul watched him leave, but he stayed with Amelia,
attending to her cuts. She was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted
and finally relented to sleep.

Paul decided to find Jeremiah. He had looked
distraught when he left. He asked Aaron to stay with Amelia and set out to look
for his friend. He didn’t have to go far, finding him sitting alone on top of a
table in the cook house. Paul sat on a deacon’s bench across from him.

“She’s asleep. I think she’s going to be all right,
thank the Lord.”  

“You don’t really believe what she said about God
helping her out tonight, do you?”

“Yes. I believe every word of it with all my heart.”

“But God allowed your
Angel
to be beaten and
almost raped! I can’t even begin to imagine what she went through out there!” Jeremiah
looked out a window toward the blackened forest and shuddered. “Where was your
God when that was happening?”

“That’s a very valid question, my friend.” The
intensity of Jeremiah’s words weighed heavily on Paul’s heart. “But you have to
remember that I also believe in the Devil. Amelia and I were just reading about
that in the Bible a couple days ago. The Bible says to be sober, be vigilant;
because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking
whom he may devour. He knows his time is limited, and he’s going to take as
many people with him as he can.”

“That’s understandable, but if you truly believe that
God heard her prayers then why didn’t he answer them sooner? Why didn’t he
avoid this? How could he just stand there and let that kind of atrocity happen
to someone like her?”

“Jeremiah, God was hurting too when he saw what was
happening. But he gave us all a will to choose our own direction in life, and
that includes this horrible man. And as soon as she prayed, God was free to
send his angels to help her, to fight her battle for her and they won! Don’t
you see that? You know as well as I do that there would have been no possible
way for a blind woman to escape this kind of attack unless she had help. This
is the kind of saving power God is capable of.”

“And I suppose you’re just going to forgive this ‘evil
monster’, to quote your own words?”

“I have to. Otherwise I’d be no different from him.”

“Good god, man!” Jeremiah jumped off the table and
strode up to Pau. “Are you made of steel? Don’t you feel anything? Doesn’t it
bother you at all what someone did to her? Don’t you realize the terror she had
to go through before God
finally
rescued her?” Jeremiah scowled at him. “She
has every right to rise up and curse him, to hunt him down and shoot him and
make him suffer for what he did to her. Yet she showed such compassion under
this kind of duress. It doesn’t make sense, and it’s not right. I know you’re
sincere in your beliefs, but I think you’ve been hoodwinked into believing
something totally outrageous.” 

Jeremiah turned and headed toward the door. “I’m going
to go find an empty bunk. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Paul knew Jeremiah was too angry to see the truth. He
glanced at the papers strewn across the table. They had to be Aaron’s. He’s the
Cowan brother with the talent for figures. He slumped over, covered his face
with his hands, and let the tears wash over him. His angel was safe. He knew
God had saved her. He had to hold on to this belief.

Jeremiah stopped at the door and turned. He came back
inside, sat beside Paul and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. That was
cruel.”

The two sat in silent anguish for some time. They didn’t
need words. Each knew the other’s pain, and just being together was enough
support to sustain them through their personal battles being waged deep within
themselves.

One emerged from the inner war victoriously and at
peace, ready to continue life with a clear conscience and direction.

The other found no comfort, only the confusion and
pain of an uncertain future that he was trying desperately to understand.

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Corrin arrived at the lumber camp with Doc Glover
sometime during the early hours of the morning. After Doc had finished with his
examination and did all he could to make sure Amelia’s wounds were cleaned
properly, he declared that he was no longer needed and that she would be fine. She
only needed lots of rest over the next couple weeks to heal from the assault
and her run through the forest.

Corrin assumed full responsibility for her niece’s
care. After all, she felt it was her fault this had happened to her niece. She should
have been more careful with this priceless treasure she had been given. And now
because of her inadequacy as a parent she had almost lost her. How could God
have allowed this kind of atrocity to happen to Amelia?

Corrin hated seeing her like this, cut and bruised. No,
she simply couldn’t be trusted to properly care for her niece any longer. A
saloon just isn’t the kind of place for such a person as her delicate niece. How
could she have even thought she could protect her in a place like that? Who did
she know who could take Amelia in and care for her and protect her?  But how
could she give her up? Corrin loved Amelia and Amelia loved her. The girl had
become her joy. They were family. How could anyone else give her the same kind
of love that she had?

But here Amelia laid battered, proof of Corrin Dannon’s
incapability. She knew what she had to do and it would be the hardest thing she
had ever done. She would find a family first, and then tell Amelia. No sense in
upsetting the dear girl so soon after her ordeal.

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Amelia awoke in an unfamiliar bed. Where was she? Had
this all really happened? The achiness of her body quickly affirmed that it
had, but many of the events from the previous evening were obscured in her
memory.

Someone was whispering in a far corner of the room,
and she strained to hear what was being said to discern where she was and who
was there with her.

“...found him at the bottom of the ravine.” She
recognized Aaron’s voice. “Apparently he couldn’t see where he was going in the
dark and fell right off the cliff.”

“Nobody knows who he is?” Corrin asked.

“Nope. Never saw him around here before. . .” This
voice was barely audible.

“He must be a stranger . . . No man in these parts
would ever treat a lady of reputation like that. It’s just never happened
before.” This sounded like Jeremiah.

“It’s got to be him. He had several deep scratches
down his face and neck. . .”

Scratches down his face and neck? They must be talking
about the awful man who attacked her. Where was he now? Was he in custody? Amelia
had to know and started to rise, but her body ached and wouldn’t respond. She
moaned and fell back on the cot and immediately heard the scrambling of feet
and her aunt’s loving touch upon her head.

“Sweetie, don’t try to get up. Just lay still.”

“The man with the scratches, Aunt Corrin. Where is
he?”

“Don’t concern yourself with that right now, Angel. You
need to lay still.” She felt Paul’s hand stroking hers.

“Paul. It’s him! I scratched him and it made him angry
and he hit me over and over---”

“Shh. It’s all right, Angel. That man is dead. He fell
over a cliff sometime last night. He won’t be able to bother you ever again. Just
lie still and rest now.”

Dead! Then God must have shown no mercy toward him. Her
wounded heart and mind became receptacles of battered emotions, and she began
to cry, the people she loved so dearly tried earnestly to calm her.

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For days Amelia’s body remained swelled, her joints
ached, and she didn’t possess the strength to lift her hand when Paul came to
visit her. The long run had left her limbs stiff and aching and unwilling to
move. She resigned herself to sleep much of the day, and only took small
amounts of soup during periods of alertness.

After a week she felt better and her legs were able to
carry her a measurable distance, even though they still complained with each
step she took. Amelia longed to be outdoors, breathing in the crisp October
air, so Corrin helped her to the cook house where Biscuit was delighted to oblige
the ladies with some tea he had stashed away for special visitors. He talked
with them while he and his two cook’s helpers, called flunkies, fixed lunch for
the men. He said he was working to create a tantalizing sensation that would
make their taste buds stop and say ‘thank ya kindly’.