Authors: Francine Rivers
Paul was at the cabin when the two of them arrived. He had a side of venison roasting on the spit. Angel hung up the curtains Elizabeth had made for Michael’s cabin while the men talked. Michael went out to see if he could spot the Altmans yet. Angel felt Paul’s cold gaze on her back.
“I bet they don’t know anything about you, do they, Angel?”
She turned and faced him. He wouldn’t believe the truth if she told him.
“I like them very much, Paul, and I wouldn’t want them to be hurt.”
He sneered. “Meaning you hope I’ll keep your sordid past a secret.”
She saw it was no use appealing to him. “Meaning you’ll do what you think you have to,” she said dully. How long before he made them see her for what she really was? It would be very little time at all before they realized the animosity he held toward her, and they would wonder and ask why.
What could she tell them?
“He wanted me to pay for a ride, and I gave him the
only currency I had”?
Why had she ever let herself get involved with these people? Why had she allowed herself to like them? She knew it was a mistake from the beginning.
“Love is debilitating,” Sally had said.
“Have you ever been in love?” Angel had asked.
“Once.”
“Who was it?”
“It’s Duke.” She gave a bitter laugh. “But I’ve always been too old for him.”
A cold voice broke into her thoughts. “Scared, aren’t you?” Paul’s smile was stone cold. Angel went outside. She couldn’t breathe in the cabin. The pain was beginning already. It was the same pain she felt the day she heard 264
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her father say he wished she had never been born, the same pain when Mama died, the same when she learned of Lucky’s death. She had even felt pain the first time Duke gave her to another man.
Everyone to whom she drew close left her. Sooner or later they walked away. Or died. Or lost interest. Love someone, and it was a guarantee.
Mama, Sally, Lucky. Now Miriam, Ruthie, and Elizabeth.
How could I forget what it felt like?
Because Michael fed you hope, and hope is deadly.
Sally told her once that you had to be like a stone because people would chip away at you, and that stone had to be big enough that they would never reach the very heart of you.
Angel saw Michael standing in the sunlight, strong and beautiful. Her heart twisted inside her. He of all of them had chipped away the most, and sooner or later, he would walk out of her life and leave a hole where her heart had been.
He came to her, and when he saw the look on her face, his eyes darkened. “Did Paul say something to hurt you?”
“No,” she rasped. “No. He didn’t say anything.”
“Something’s upset you.”
I’m falling in love with you. Oh, God, I don’t want to, but I am. You’re becoming the air that I breathe. I’m losing Elizabeth and Miriam and Ruthie. How long
will it be before I lose you, too?
She looked away. “Nothing’s upset me. I’m just worried what Elizabeth will say to all this.”
It wasn’t long before she had her answer. The wagon came over the rise and drew close. Elizabeth stared in disbelief, looking from the cabin to John, who jumped from the wagon seat, a broad grin on his face. Then Elizabeth wept and threw herself into John’s arms, telling him he was a wretch and she adored him.
“You should apologize, Mama,” Miriam laughed. “You’ve been horrid to him ever since we left the Hoseas’.” John took his wife’s hand, and they headed out for a walk to see their land.
Miriam set right to work in the cabin, but it wasn’t long before she stopped and looked at Angel. “You and Paul aren’t on friendly terms, are you?”
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“Not very,” Angel said. Ruth tugged her skirt, and Angel lifted her, setting Ruth on her hip.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Miriam dried her hands and took Ruth and set her down again. “Mandy has to help me make a cake, and she needs both hands to do it. Don’t stick your lip out at me, young lady.” She turned her around and gave the little girl’s bottom a light swat. “Michael’s right outside. Ask him to give you a piggyback ride.” She set out the bowls and glanced at Angel.
“Now, tell me what it’s all about.”
“What?”
“You know what. You and Paul. Was he in love with you before you married Michael?”
Angel gave a sardonic laugh. “Hardly.”
Miriam frowned. “He didn’t approve.”
“Doesn’t,” Angel said. “With good reason.”
“Name one.”
“You needn’t know everything, Miriam. You know far more than is good for you already.”
“If I asked him, would he tell me?” she challenged.
A wince of pain crossed Angel’s face. “Probably.”
Miriam brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and left a smudge of flour across her cheek. “Then I won’t ask.”
Angel adored her. One minute she was a child like Ruth, full of excitement and mischief, and the next a woman with a mind of her own. “Don’t think too badly of him,” she said. “He was looking out for Michael.” She gave the sifter a last tap and set it aside. “I knew a girl once who received a chunk of amethyst as a gift. It was beautiful. Bright purple crystals. The man told her it came from a stone egg he had cracked open and part of the outer shell was still on it. Gray, ugly, and smooth.” She looked at Miriam. “I’m like that, Miriam. Only it’s inside out. All the loveliness is here.” She touched her braid and her flawless face. “Inside, it’s dark and ugly. Paul saw that.”
Tears welled into Miriam’s eyes. “Then he didn’t look hard enough.”
“You’re very sweet but very naive.”
“I’m both and neither. I don’t think you know me half as well as you think you do.”
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“We know one another as well as we’re going to.”
The day grew so warm and pure that Miriam laid out blankets for a picnic. Angel saw Michael and Paul talking. Her stomach tightened as she thought of the horrible things Paul could gleefully relate to Michael about her cold-blooded behavior on the road. The grotesqueness of it nauseated her. How would Paul see what had happened between them? As a straightforward business proposition? a wanton act without feeling? No wonder he saw only black foulness inside her, the leprosy of her soul. She had shown him nothing else.
She watched Michael covertly, hungering for his glance in her direction just to show things were all right, but he was intent on what Paul was saying.
She tried to calm her heart. Michael had seen her in a worse place than Paul could imagine, and still he took her back. Even after she deserted and betrayed him, he fought for her. She would never understand him. She had thought men like him were weak, but Michael wasn’t. He was quiet and steady, unyielding, like a rock. How could he still look at her with anything but loathing after all she had done? How could he
love
her?
Maybe the reality of
Angel
hadn’t caught up with him yet. When it did, he would look at her the same way Paul did. What he saw now was clouded by his own fantasy of a woman redeemable.
But it’s all a lie. I’m just playing another role. Someday the dreamer will awaken,
and life will fall back into the old pattern again.
As she talked and worked with Miriam, she pretended nothing bothered her. The dark inner silence grew, familiar and heavy, weighing her down inside. She shored up the cracks in her walls and girded herself for the coming attack. Yet every time she looked at Michael, she weakened.
But the past kept catching up with her, no matter how far she ran.
Sometimes she felt as though she were on a road and could hear the hard beat of the horses’ hooves coming, as though a coach were coming straight at her but she couldn’t get out of the way. In her mind she could see it racing toward her, and within it were Duke, Sally, Lucky, Duchess, and Magowan.
And there on the high driver’s seat were Alex Stafford and Mama.
And they were all going to run her down.
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Elizabeth and John returned. Angel saw the way John touched his wife tenderly and noted how Elizabeth blushed. Angel had seen that same look on other men’s faces, but they hadn’t smiled into her eyes just that way. With her, it had been business.
The cabin was overcrowded, and she went out into the field of mustard flowers to sit down. She wanted to empty her mind. She wanted the anguish to go away. Ruthie joined her. The mustard weeds were taller than she, and Ruthie thought it a great adventure to make paths in the golden forest. Angel watched her dropping blossoms and chasing a white butterfly. Her heart squeezed tight and small.
Tonight, she and Michael would walk away, and that would be the end of it. She wouldn’t see Ruthie anymore. Or Miriam. Or Elizabeth. Or the others. She hugged her knees tightly against her chest. She wished Ruthie would come back and want to be held. She wanted to cover her sweet face with kisses; but the child wouldn’t understand, and she couldn’t explain.
Ruth did come back, eyes bright with childish excitement. She plopped down beside Angel. “Did you see, Mandy? The first butterfly.”
“Yes, darling.” She touched her silky dark hair.
Ruth gazed up at her with wide, sparkling brown eyes. “Did you know they come from
worms?
Miriam told me.”
She smiled. “Is that so?”
“Some are fuzzy and pretty, but they don’t taste good,” Ruth said. “I ate one when I was little. It was awful.”
Angel laughed and lifted Ruth to her lap. She tickled Ruthie’s tummy.
“Well, then, I don’t suppose you’ll eat another one, will you, little mouse?”
Ruth giggled and bounced up again to pick more mustard flowers. She tugged one plant up by the roots. “Now that we have a cabin, are you and Michael going to come live with us?”
“No, sweetheart.”
Ruth looked at her in surprise. “Why not? Don’t you want to?”
“Because now we each have cabins of our own.”
Ruth came back and stood in front of her. “What’s the matter, Mandy?
Don’t you feel good?”
Angel touched her baby-soft hair. “I feel fine.”
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“Well, then, will you sing me a song? I’ve never heard you sing.”
“I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Papa says
anybody
can sing.”
“It has to come from inside, and I don’t have anything left inside.”
“Really?” Ruth said, amazed. “How did that happen?”
“It all just drained out.”
Ruth frowned, studying Angel critically from head to foot. “You look fine to me.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
Still perplexed, Ruth sat in her lap. “Then I’ll sing to you.” The words and tunes were all mixed up, but Angel didn’t care. She was content to have Ruthie on her lap and the fragrance of mustard flowers strong about her. She rested her head on Ruthie’s and held her close, not noticing Miriam until she spoke.
“Mama wants you, punkin.”
Angel lifted Ruth off her lap and gave her a light pat to send her off again.
“Why are you cutting us off?” Miriam asked, sitting down with her.
“What makes you think I am?”
“You always do that. Ask a question instead of answer one. It’s very annoying, Amanda.”
Angel stood and brushed dust from her skirt.
Miriam stood with her. “You won’t answer or look me in the eye, and now you’re running away.”
Angel looked at her squarely. “Nonsense.”
“What do you think is going to happen? Do you think that, just because we have a cabin of our own now, the friendship is over?”
“We’ll all be very busy with our own lives.”
“Not
that
busy.” Miriam reached out to take her hand, but Angel walked away, pretending not to notice.
“You know, sometimes you can hurt yourself more by trying to keep yourself from being hurt!” Miriam called after her.
Angel laughed it off. “Words from a sage.”
“You’re impossible, Amanda Hosea!”
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“Angel,” she said under her breath. “My name’s Angel.”
Everyone gathered at the blankets when Elizabeth, Miriam, and Angel brought out the food. Angel pushed her food around so the others would think she was enjoying the meal, but her throat closed every time she took a small bite.
Paul looked at her coldly. She tried not to let it bother her. It was his own weakness that made him hate her so much.
She remembered a few young men who paid for her services and came face-to-face with their own hypocrisy when they were putting their pants and boots on and getting ready to walk out the door. It suddenly dawned on them what they had done. Not to her. That didn’t matter one way or the other. But to themselves.
“Haven’t you forgotten something?” she would say, wanting to drive the knife straight into their hearts any way she could. They
ought
to know. First the red flags in their pale cheeks, then the dark, loathing in their eyes.
Well, she had driven the blade straight and sure into Paul, but she knew now she was the one impaled. It would have been better if she had walked all the way to Pair-a-Dice that day. Maybe then Michael would have caught up to her before it was too late. Maybe Paul wouldn’t hate her so much.