Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch) (19 page)

Amelia was glad for his lighthearted humor. She let
the gaiety wash over and soothe her aching body and spirit. Everyone had been
so somber and doting toward her this past week, and she disliked being the
cause of their dismay.

She was regaining her strength, and when Corrin
announced that she could make the trip back down the mountain the next day to
continue her recuperation in Glory Gulch, she was elated.

Paul had been unable to visit her as often in the camp
as he would have if she were back home at the saloon, and she missed him
terribly. Excitement washed over her at the thought of once again visiting with
him on the porch in the mornings and kissing him at her door in the evenings.

Then her Aunt regretfully informed her that she wasn’t
going back to the saloon. She had found a good home for Amelia with a family
from the church.

“But Aunt Corrin! Why? Have I been that much of a
burden to you?”

“Oh, Sweetie. Absolutely not! It’s just that I now
realize that a saloon is not a proper place for someone like you to live in. It’s
just too dangerous.”

“What do you mean
someone like me
? It’s my
blindness, isn’t it?” Amelia cried.

“Of course not, Honey. What I meant was that you’re so
young and pretty, too much of a temptation for some of the kinds of men who
pass through the saloon. You need a safer place to live.”

“Safer? Aunt Corrin, you’re all the family I have and
I thought we needed each other.”

“Oh, Honey. I still need you. I’m just afraid I can’t
protect you any longer. That night when I went to check on you and you were
gone, I thought I would die. I was heartsick with worry. I don’t think I could
bear it if something like this were to ever happen to you again.”

“But Aunt Corrin, if you would just forgive that awful
man, you would find freedom from your fear and guilt.”

“I know you think it’s just that simple, Sweetie. But
some things that happen are more terrible and less forgivable than others. I
just don’t understand how you can be so casual about the whole ordeal. The
Marcus’ will be able to provide you a real home. They’re older so they will be
around all the time to look after you.”

Amelia finally resigned herself to her Aunt’s wishes
and leaned her head against Corrin’s shoulder. “Will you visit me?”

“Sweetie, you can be sure I’ll visit you as often as I
can. We’ll never be far apart.”

Amelia had difficulty negotiating the Marcus’s
cluttered house. Their children had long ago left the comforts of their
childhood home and the couple seemed bent on saving every piece of furniture
and bric-a-brac they had collected down through their many decades together. Amelia
constantly bumped into things or tripped over piles of unidentified objects
laying in the most conspicuous places.

Shortly after her arrival, Amelia became acutely aware
that these two were staunch Christians, unwavering in their faith and
convictions. Initially she thought this would be quite pleasurable, but soon
came to realize that their religion was unlike anything she had ever
encountered.

They adhered to strict rules about everything and
insisted that she also abide by them. As they recounted their decrees to her,
she was shocked and heartbroken. To Amelia, whose heart was tender toward God,
these were absurd.

First they took away all her pretty gowns her mother
had made and put her in dark, itchy woolen clothing. They said the clothes she
had been wearing were the devil’s own designs. They thought it no wonder that
she had been attacked the way she had. If she had only been dressed as a
proper
Christian, the terrible incident would have been avoided, they explained.

Amelia was not to go further than the front porch
without a
proper
escort with her, which she discovered was not too many
places. Church was about the only place they felt was safe from the temptations
of the devil, and a proper escort could only be female.

She would not be allowed to go to the saloon. This
simply was not a question for debating. Her aunt may visit her there at their
home, but only on the porch. To allow such a heathen into their home would be
an abomination to the Lord.

She could play their piano, but only sacred hymns.

As insane and ridiculous as these rules sounded, the
most unfair to Amelia was that it wasn’t
proper
for a lady of her tender,
young age to be courted by a gentleman who was so much older than she. They
actually forbid her to see Paul! This infuriated her, and she argued with the
Marcus’s vehemently, reminding them that he was a Christian also, which broke
another rule---never doubt the wisdom of one’s elders. When she persisted, they
sent her to her room without supper and locked the door ‘until she prayed
through and saw the light’.

As Amelia reclined on her bed and contemplated her
present situation, she became indignant. How could Christians stand in judgment
of others so blatantly? The first time either Paul or Corrin would come by for
a visit, she was certain they would not tolerate these foolish rules. They
would do something about this injustice.

She tried to pray about her situation, but anger and
frustration kept her from a meaningful conversation with God. Amelia wanted
desperately to understand why God would allow her to be there, and she fell
asleep angry and fearful.

Sometime in the deep recesses of the night, Amelia
dreamed. The foul, whisky breathed man was chasing her through the forest. The
trees were whipping her body and were taunting her as she ran on and on and on.
The man’s footsteps were directly behind hers. They were so loud she put her
hands up to her ears to shut out their pounding. She called out for help, but
no one would come to her rescue.

She felt a hand on her arm. Was it Aaron Cowan? No! It
was the terrible man! He had caught her! She fought him, but he was stronger
than she. He laughed and teased her. “You’ll enjoy yourself, Amelia.”

She heard others laughing in the background. Who were
they? Why didn’t they help her? His dirty, repulsive mouth was on her. She
screamed, but nothing would come out of her mouth . . .

Amelia awoke and shot straight up in her bed. Out of
breath, heart pounding, and feeling terrorized all over again. Despite the
coolness of the room, her bedclothes and linens were soaked from perspiration.

She was afraid to lie back down and quoted Scriptures
to herself in an attempt to console her troubled spirit. The words of King
David in Psalm 27 came flowing out of her mouth.

‘The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I
fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? When the
wicked, even mine enemies and my foes came upon me to eat up my flesh, they
stumbled and fell. Though a host should encamp against me, my heart shall not
fear:  though war should rise against me, in this I will be confident.” The
words of King David in Psalm 27 came flowing out of her mouth.

Amelia then sat in silence, amazed that someone else
had once experience the same dreaded fears that she had. The realization that
she had not dealt with her attack brought her to her knees, and she began to
talk things over with God. She was confused about the dream, her bruised
emotions, why she was with the Marcus’s. Nothing seemed to fit in the plan she
thought God had for her life. She threw up her hands in surrender.

“Lord, help me to understand,” she cried.

It’s only temporary. Rest in me, my child.

Amelia recognized that still, small voice. She
possessed a heart that was tender toward God and a discerning spirit. But the
words only comforted her a little.
Only temporary
. Good. She wasn’t sure
what the voice meant by
rest
and tucked this away in her memory to pray
about in the morning. For now, she was exhausted and decided to try to sleep
again, but sleep wouldn’t come.

The next day Amelia was so haggard she didn’t have the
energy to fight with the Marcus’s. She was happy to remain in the confines of
her little room without their lock and key. Her spirit wounded, her feeble
attempts to pray were of no avail. She took a nap in the early afternoon.

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›

Paul stopped by the Marcus home that afternoon. They
told him she wasn’t feeling well enough to receive visitors and sent her
regrets. He felt downhearted that he hadn’t been able to make it up to the camp
to see her before she left there, and now he was being put off further because
she wasn’t feeling well. He asked them to tell her that he would pray for her
to feel better quickly and that he would come back to see her soon.

›
›
›

Corrin called for her niece the following day and was
told Amelia wasn’t feeling well enough to have visitors. She went away, missing
her sweetie something awful.

›
›
›

That evening Paul returned. Again, they told him she
was still not ready to receive visitors. Once more he felt dejected and left
without seeing his Angel.

›
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›

The next day around mid-morning, Amelia was summoned
by Mrs. Marcus to come to the parlor. Amelia went downstairs.

“Amelia, we want to introduce you to one of our old,
family friends Jason Warren. Jason, this is the young lady we told you about
who has suffered terribly at the hands of an attacker.”

Amelia held her hand out to the gentleman she pictured
to be as ancient as the Marcus’s. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Warren.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he said, taking her hand and
kissing the back of it.

She pulled it away quickly and smoothed her dress. The
man’s voice didn’t crack with age, but sounded like it belonged to a much
younger fellow than she’d surmised.

“Come, Amelia,” Mr. Marcus said. “You sit here on the
couch, and Jason can sit there beside you. Mother, would you bring us those
cookies you baked?”

“Right away,” Mrs. Marcus said.

Amelia had never heard the old couple talk so sweetly
before, which raised an alarm inside her.

Mrs. Marcus returned quickly, as if she’d had the
refreshments already prepared and waiting for her in the kitchen.

The conversation ranged from topic to topic, hardly
able to hold Amelia’s attention, for her thoughts were on Paul. Why hadn’t he
come by to see her yet? Her heart ached to be with him.

The gentleman caller had asked her a question.

“I’m sorry, what did you just ask me?”

“I said I like your accent. What state do you come
from? Virginia?”

“Georgia. I was born and raised there.” Throughout the
morning, Amelia became acutely aware that Mr. Warren and she were the only ones
who were involved in the conversation. Finally the thought occurred to her that
he wasn’t just visiting; he was courting her. Upon this revelation, she jumped
to her feet.

“Mr. Warren, I hope you will excuse me, but I have a
headache, and I wish to retire to my room. It was a pleasure meeting you.” She
turned abruptly and took her leave, stumbling over something as she felt her
way to the stairway.

A few minutes later, she heard the front door close
soundly and she recognized Mr. Marcus’s footsteps coming toward her room.

He was furious with her and locked her in her room for
two days to ‘pray and repent for lying to Mr. Warren and for God to show her
the evil of her ways’.

The only time Amelia was given the privilege of their
company was when they brought her a tray of food at mealtimes and to empty her
chamber pot.

Amelia was dumfounded. She would rather live with
heathens than with these people and their religion gone sour. They had no room
in their hearts for the true, living, loving, caring God she knew personally
and loved above all else. They loved their religion more than the One who gave his
own life for them. She had never known anyone who had become caught up in
religious rules in this way.

Finally, she sought the Lord in earnest, this time
opening her heart to God in truth, in contrast to her feeble attempts to
commune with him the previous few days. She soon discovered that even though
she had been preaching forgiveness to everyone else, she had not forgiven the
stranger for assaulting her. She had allowed fear and anger to consume her and
realized that she had never taken the time to give these things over to the
Lord.

Amelia poured her whole heart out to her Savior,
recounting every hurt, fear and unforgiveness that he brought to her mind. She
asked for his forgiveness and cleansing power to heal her battered mind and
soul and her wounded spirit.

Amelia prayed almost unceasingly for those two days,
only stopping to eat, and even then her heart was turned toward God. And he
began to strengthen her physically, for it had been only nine days since the
attack. He also strengthened her emotionally, mentally and spiritually, filling
her with such a joy and love that she could hardly contain herself.

An understanding dawned on her as to why God had
allowed her aunt to send her there. Nowhere else could she have found such
solitude and respite that would allow God to heal her to completeness. She
began to praise Him; sometimes by quietly singing, sometimes with her hands
lifted while on her knees, and often just pacing the floor of her cluttered
room.