River of Secrets (23 page)

“Exactly.” He pulled her with him in the drenching rain down the path to the little stone chapel. Pushing open the door, he stepped inside and she followed, shivering in the damp coolness.

“I’m fr-freezing,” Amy stuttered through chattering teeth. “Th-there’s a bathroom with a linen closet next to the door behind the baptism pool. Let’s see if there are some towels, okay?”

Micah felt chill bumps popping up on his arms. “That sounds good. Sit here and I’ll find us something.”

He helped Amy into the pew, then went to find the towels. Two minutes later, he was back. “Here, wrap up in this.”

Shivering, she reached up for the towel. He helped her place it around her shoulders as he tried to decide what words to say. Scooting into the pew next to her, he felt her warmth as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. She didn’t resist, so he took that as a good sign. Resting his chin on her head, he said, “I love you, Amy.”

She sighed. “I know. I love you, too.”

“So, what do we do now?”

Amy flinched at the question, wanting to ignore it, but forced to face it. “I guess the big question is, can you forgive me for being who I am?”

“I love who you are. I hate who your mother is.”

“I can’t say I’m exactly thrilled with that one myself. Unfortunately, I can’t change it.”

“No, you can’t. I can’t, either. I also can’t see letting her ruin what we have.”

Amy gave a dry laugh. “Well, if you want to do her in for good, just tell her we’re…” She sighed. “Never mind. I shouldn’t make light of the situation. I’ve prayed and prayed about this, Micah. I’ll be honest with you. I want everything we could have together. And if I have to say goodbye to you again, I think it will actually—” she stopped to swallow back the tears that threatened to fall “—literally break my heart. But I want what God wants.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Me, too.”

“So again, I guess it all boils down to whether or not you can forgive me for being the daughter of the woman who tried to kill you.”

“I think I’m going to have to disagree with you on that one.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think I have to forgive you for being your mother’s daughter; I think
we,
as in you and me, have to forgive your mother. Period.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” she cried, pulling back to stare into his electric blue-gray eyes. How had she not recognized him the moment he’d opened them weeks ago? She focused on his words.

“Yeah, I think you’ve tried. But we can’t do it under our own power. That’s going to have to come from God. I’ve been a Christian a long time, Amy, but I’ve only come to realize recently that the God I accepted as a teenager wants a personal, intimate relationship with me. He’s not up there waiting for me to dial the spiritual 9-1-1 line. He’s there all the time, wanting to hear from me on a daily basis. You helped me realize that, too. And I think we’re going to have to make that choice to forgive if we’re going to have any kind of future together.”

“I’m glad, so very glad that you’ve grown closer to God, but there’s nothing about my mother that makes me
want
to offer her forgiveness. She doesn’t deserve it or
want
it, either.”

“But from everything I’ve ever read, heard or studied about God, none of us deserve it—His forgiveness, that is. And He forgave us before we even realized we needed it—or wanted it. That’s what the cross did.”

Something she’d known, of course, and she also knew she didn’t deserve God’s grace of forgiveness, but had accepted it willingly when presented with the truth of His love. A new understanding was sinking in as they talked it out. “That’s true. God offers it to each and every one of us. Undeserving, repentant or not, he still
offers
it. It’s there for the taking.”

“So, I guess we should try to do the same, shouldn’t we?”

“Do you know how hard that will be?”

“You have to ask?”

She blew out a sigh. “I guess not. But she’s so hard, Micah. She doesn’t even want forgiveness. She’s not interested in Christ’s love. There’s not a remorseful bone in her body, just evil.”

“And yet, Christ died for her, too.”

“Yes, He did.” Amy fiddled with the edge of the towel as she thought about it.

“So, it seems to me we should think about making the conscious decision to forgive your mother…even if our hearts aren’t ready to do it yet. Hopefully, one day they will be. Think about it. All she’s ever known has been Satan’s lies. Maybe it’s time someone presented her with God’s truth.”

“We could work on it, I suppose.” She sighed. Just thinking about it made her wince, and yet she knew it was something she was going to have to do. With God’s help.

“I’m not saying it’ll happen overnight, but I’m willing to try if you are. I want to spend the rest of my life spreading the truth of God’s love to anyone and everyone who’ll listen.”

A thought struck her. She whispered, “The belt of truth.”

“What?”

She smiled quoting, “Ephesians 6:14. ‘Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist.’” Amy reached out to lay a quivering hand on his waist where his birthmark lay underneath his shirt. “You’ve always had it. You think God may have been preparing you for this moment? That these were the plans He had for you when He formed you?”

Micah stretched out his left hand, examined the scars crisscrossing the back of it, traveling up to disappear under his sleeve. “Maybe.” He dropped his hand to cover hers. “I never thought of the birthmark in that context. A belt of truth.” He laughed, sobered and said, “I think perhaps God has decided to take what was meant for evil and turned it for good. For His glory. I want to rescue more children, Amy. I can’t stand what’s going on here.”

“But how can we ever rescue enough?”

“One at a time, with God’s help and leading. Just like with Carlita and Lucia. And Natalia. I’m going to do my best to find her.”

Amy looked deep into his bottomless blue eyes. “Do you think that if I could forgive my mother, I’d finally have the peace I’ve been searching for? I mean, just knowing God gives me more peace than I ever thought possible, but I mean the peace that comes from forgiveness…true forgiveness.”

“I think it’s a start…and I think that’s all God asks of us—just to have a willing heart. He’ll do the rest.” Squeezing her close, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She snuggled close, enjoying the freedom of being able to be close to Micah, and sighed. “Okay, I can have a willing heart—I think. The rest will definitely have to be up to Him, though.”

“Sounds like a plan. Do you think you would be willing to marry me so we can adopt a couple of those kids in there and get them the help they need?” His voice sounded rough, as though the emotions clamoring through him were struggling to break out.

Amy searched his face again, seeing the love for her and the fierce need to do something to help those who couldn’t help themselves expressed so openly in his eyes. Still, she had to ask, “Are you sure you’re ready for a ready-made family?”

Without a shadow of a doubt, he said, “I am if you are.”

“I am,” she declared, the knot in her throat threatening to choke off her words. She just couldn’t believe everything that happened had brought them to this point. It could only be God. And she silently thanked Him for His goodness, for not letting her stubbornness and sometimes do-it-herself attitude get in the way of His plan for her life. And Micah’s.

“Uh-uh—” He bent closer, hovering his lips a hair’s breath away from hers. She closed her eyes, breathing in the spicy tang of aftershave that still lingered, mingled with sweat and the scent that belonged just to him. “Wrong answer.”

“Huh?” Her eyes popped open in confusion and she wondered if being close to him like this would always turn her brain to mush. Probably.

He grinned at her. “It’s not, ‘I am’…it’s, ‘I do.’”

“Oh, okay, I do, too.” She giggled, then sighed as his lips settled ever so sweetly over hers to seal the deal.

EPILOGUE

Six months later
Landrum, South Carolina

T
he back door slammed.

“Mama, Oliver hit me with a water balloon!” Carlita stepped into the kitchen, disgust and water dripping from her. Amy bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. “Go into the bathroom and dry off. I’ll go fuss at Oliver.”

She stepped outside onto the porch to see Oliver, their next-door neighbor who treated Carlita like a little sister, and two friends from church sitting in the grass, taking turns throwing water balloons at a makeshift target.

“Oliver!” Amy called from her spot on the porch.

The teen looked up. Guilt flashed across his features. “Yes, ma’am?”

“What did Carlita do to make you toss a water balloon at her?”

A relieved grin stretched his lips across his tanned face. “She was teasing me about a girl I like at church.” Concern flickered briefly. “She’s not upset, is she?”

“No, she’s fine. Disgusted, but the way a younger sister should be with an older brother.” Like the older brother she missed. Salvador was now serving time in a Brazilian jail.

His shoulders relaxed. “Well, good, because she deserved it.”

Amy gave a silent laugh and went back inside. Carlita skipped out of the bathroom, a smile on her sweet face, the incident clearly forgotten. “When’s Daddy coming home?”

“Soon, I hope.”

Carlita ran off and Amy glanced at the phone.
Come on, Micah. Call me.

She’d survived calling her mother. And to her surprise, found her hate fading to something that resembled sadness with each prayer she said. Someone once said it was hard to hate someone you prayed for. Amy was finding this to be true.

Micah often went to the jail and tried to visit. The woman never would consent to see him, but he went once a week, carrying her items, a Bible, notes from a sermon, whatever he felt led to do. He confessed it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but God was working in his heart also.

As he worked to rescue the children, he’d seen little ones, youngsters, toddlers, teenagers, just like Juanita had once been, living in rebel camps, on the streets, with no chances in life but an early death. He said once he’d seen that, it had been a little easier to let go of the anger toward Juanita.

Thirty minutes later, Amy heard the door slam. “Anyone home?” Micah’s voice pulled her into the foyer.

“Daddy!” Carlita squealed hurling herself in Micah’s arms.

Amy had been waiting for Micah’s call all day. Now he was here. She caught his eye with a silent question. His answering smile sent shivers up her spine. They’d been married six months now, neither of them wanting to put off the event they knew in their hearts would take place eventually.

Now Micah and Amy were a family of four living in a rambling Victorian mansion with forty-two acres of land right outside the growing town of Landrum, South Carolina.

“Well?” she whispered.

He nodded pulling her to him for a kiss. “Did you make your phone call?”

“Yes, and I’ll tell you about it later. Now…when?” she persisted.

“Soon.”

The sound of a car pulling up outside pulled her from her thoughts. “Is that her?”

Micah smiled mysteriously. “Let’s find out.”

Lucia joined them as they stepped back outside to see who would exit the car driven by Gabe. A young lady of about twenty-four years old climbed from the backseat, taking in her surroundings with an expression of awe.

Micah whispered to the little girl, “That’s your sister, Natalia.” They’d talked to Carlita at length about the young woman who might be able to come live with them one day, talked about her so much Carlita felt as if she knew her.

“Natalia!” she cried.

“Carlita,” Natalia breathed. She put her hand to her mouth, and blinked as though afraid she might be dreaming and wake up any second. Then it was all action. She ran to throw her arms around the little girl.

Amy gripped Micah’s hand. “You did it.”

“Wasn’t easy.”

Shortly after their marriage, he’d returned to Brazil to specifically hunt for Natalia Orozco. By interviewing each person captured from Lucia’s camp, Micah had finally come across one of the men who’d been involved in the killing of Salvador and Carlita’s parents.

With promises of a lighter sentence for any information, the man had given them the location of Natalia. Weeks of work resulted in a well-organized raid involving SEALs and Rangers that had led to the capture of more human-trafficking criminals and the rescue of several hundred victims—including Natalia.

Natalia picked up Carlita to kiss her on the cheek.

Amy whispered, “God’s certainly blessed us beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with me returning to work that’s dangerous? Rescuing these children and other victims of human trafficking. You know what it entails.”

She sighed. “I can’t promise not to worry when you’re gone, but if this is what God has called you to do, I’ll deal with it, with His help—but thanks for asking.”

He squeezed her close for a moment. “I’ve got a lot to live for. I won’t take any unnecessary chances.”

“I know, Micah.”

He looked back over at the siblings. Lucia chatted away with them, seeming to be comfortable in the midst of the circle. “Three kids. It stuns me.”

“Actually, that would be four,” Amy muttered softly.

Micah looked down at her. “Huh? Four what? Kids? Lucia, Natalia, Carlita. That’s three.”

Patting her stomach, she whispered, “Four.”

For a moment, it didn’t register. She waited. Ah, yes, there it was. He got it. His face went white, then red. His gaze shot to her stomach then back to the silly grin she knew was all over her face.

“Four?” he breathed.

“Uh-huh. I hope you’re not terribly overwhelmed.”

Tears welled into his eyes, this man who’d survived a horrendous experience and came out of it with his heart full of compassion for those who suffered unspeakable things. Micah pulled Amy to him, hugging her as though she were made of fragile glass. “Oh, no, not overwhelmed, over blessed.” He closed his eyes and Amy heard him whisper, “Thank You, Jesus.”