Redeeming Love (29 page)

Searching frantically she found soap and ran for the creek. Stripping off her clothing and heedlessly casting it aside, she waded in. The icy air and water bit her flesh, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was to be clean, to wash it all away, everything from as far back as she could remember.

Maybe right to the very moment of her conception.

202

Redeem.16 7/25/07 5:10 PM Page 203

F

R

A

N

C

I

N

E

R

I

V

E

R

S

4

Michael rose and hung up the harnesses. He came out of the barn and walked slowly back to the cabin. What could become of a marriage so fouled by sexual betrayal?

She never loved me in the first place. Why should I expect her loyalty? She
never really promised it. I made her say the vows. She never said a word about
being sorry, Lord. Not one word in thirty miles. Have I made a mistake? Was it
your voice I heard, or was it my own flesh? Why are you doing this to me?

He should have left her in Pair-a-Dice.

She is your wife.

Yes, but I don’t know if I can forgive her.

The image of her in bed with another man was branded in his mind. He couldn’t get it out of his head.

I loved her, Lord. I loved her enough to die for her, and she did this to me.

Maybe she’s beyond redemption. How do you forgive someone who doesn’t even
care enough to want to be forgiven?

What does she want, Michael?

“Freedom. She wants freedom.”

The cabin was neat; a cozy fire was burning. The table was set and his breakfast ready. Only Angel was missing. Michael swore for the first time in years. “Let her go back! I don’t care. I’m sick of the struggle.” He kicked the pot free of the iron bar. “How many times am I supposed to go after her and bring her back?”

He sat for a while in the willow chair, but his anger just kept building.

He would go find her again, and this time he would give her a good piece of his mind. He would tell her if she wanted to leave so badly, he’d even give her a ride back. Slamming out of the cabin, he stood outside, arms akimbo, wondering which way she had run off this time. He scanned the landscape and, with some surprise, spotted her standing naked in the creek.

He strode down the bank. “What are you doing? If you wanted a bath, why didn’t you tote water to the house and warm it?”

In a sudden, uncharacteristic act of modesty, she turned her back to him, trying to hide herself. “Go away.”

203

Redeem.16 7/25/07 5:10 PM Page 204

R

E

D

E

E

M

I

N

G

L

O

V

E

He stripped off his jacket. “Come on out of there. You’ll catch pneumonia. If you want a bath that badly, I’ll tote the water.”

“Go away!” she screamed, dropping to her knees and hunching over.

“Don’t be a fool!” He waded in and caught hold of her, yanking her to her feet. Her fists were full of gravel. Her breasts and belly were raw from scrubbing. “What are you doing to yourself?”

“I have to wash. You didn’t give me the chance—”

“You’ve washed enough.” He tried to put the jacket around her, and she pulled away.

“I’m not clean yet, Michael. Just go away and leave me alone.”

Michael grabbed her roughly. “Will you be finished when you’ve stripped your skin off? When you’ve bled? Is that it? Do you think doing this to yourself will make you
clean?”
He let go of her, afraid he would do her physical harm. “It doesn’t work that way,” he said through gritted teeth.

She blinked and sat down slowly, the icy water swirling around her waist. “No, I guess not,” she said softly. Her tangled wet hair hung limp around her white face and shoulders.

“Come back inside,” he said and helped her up. She came without resistance this time, stumbling as they reached the bank. When she bent for her clothing, he pulled her along without them. Half shoving her into the cabin, he slammed the door.

Yanking a blanket from the bed, he threw it to her. “Sit down by the fire.”

Angel pulled the blanket around her shoulders and sat. She didn’t raise her head.

Glancing back at her, Michael poured her a cup of coffee. “Drink this.”

She did as he told her. “You’ll be lucky if you don’t get sick. What are you trying to do? Make
me
feel guilty you went back to prostitution? Make
me
feel guilty for dragging you out of that brothel again?”

“No,” she said quietly.

He didn’t want to pity her. He wanted to shake her until her teeth fell out. He wanted to kill her.

I could. God, I could kill her and be glad of it!

Seventy times seven.

I don’t want to listen to you. I’m sick of listening. You ask too much. It hurts.

204

Redeem.16 7/25/07 5:10 PM Page 205

F

R

A

N

C

I

N

E

R

I

V

E

R

S

Can’t you understand? Don’t you know what she’s done to me?

Seventy times seven.

His eyes were hot with tears, his heart pounding like a war drum. She looked like a bedraggled child. Shadows lay dark beneath her blue eyes. Let her suffer. She deserved it. There was a mark on her neck that made him sick. She put her hand over it and turned her face away from him. He could almost see her shrinking. Maybe she had a tiny bit of conscience left. Maybe she did feel a little shame. Oh, but it’d wear off soon enough, and she’d be ready to cut him to ribbons again.

I can’t help how I feel, Lord. If I thought she could love me, maybe—

As you have loved me?

It’s not the same. You’re God! I’m only a man.

“You shouldn’t have come for me,” she said dully. “You should never have come near me in the first place.”

“That’s right. Blame me.” Maybe she was right. He felt sick. Clenching his hand, he glared down at her. “I said vows, and I’m going to stick by them no matter how much they’re choking me now.”

She looked up at him with bleak eyes. “You don’t have to.” She shook her head.

“It’ll work. I’ll make it work.”
Didn’t you promise, Lord? Or was I imagining
it? Was she right all along and it was just sexual attraction?

“You’re only fooling yourself,” Angel said. “You just don’t understand. I never should’ve been born.”

He laughed derisively. “Self-pity. You’re drowning in it, aren’t you? You’re a blind fool, Angel. You can’t see what’s right in front of your face.”

Nor can you.

She stared into the fire. “I’m not blind. I’ve had my eyes open all my life.

You don’t think I know what I’m saying? You don’t think it’s true? I heard my own father say I was supposed to be aborted.” Her voice broke. She regained control and went on more quietly. “How can a man like you understand? My father was married. He already had enough children. He told Mama she just wanted a hold over him. I never knew if that was true. He sent her away. He didn’t want her anymore. Because of me. He stopped loving her. Because of me.”

205

Redeem.16 7/25/07 5:10 PM Page 206

R

E

D

E

E

M

I

N

G

L

O

V

E

She kept on in that quiet, agonized voice. “Mama’s parents were decent people in a good neighborhood. They wouldn’t take her in, not with an ille-gitimate child. Even her church turned her away.” The blanket fell open, and Michael stared down at the reddened marks on her skin. There were lines of red where she had torn at her own flesh.

Jesus, why are you doing this to me?

It was easier retreating into anger than seeing into her tortured soul.

“We ended up on the docks,” she said, emotionless now. “She became a prostitute. When the men left, she’d drink herself to sleep while Rab went out and drank the money away. She wasn’t very pretty anymore. She died when I was eight.” She looked up at him. “Smiling.” Her own mouth curved. “So you see. It
is
true. I shouldn’t have been born. It was all a terrible mistake from the beginning.”

Michael sat down heavily, tears at the surface again, but not for himself this time. “What happened to you then?”

She bowed her head and clasped her hands tightly together. She didn’t look at him. It was a long, heavy silence before she spoke very quietly. “Rab sold me to a brothel. Duke has a thing for little girls.”

Michael shut his eyes.

She looked up at him. Of course he was repulsed. What man wouldn’t be at the thought of a child fornicating with a grown man? “That was just the beginning,” she said dully, lowering her head, unable to look at him.

“You can’t even begin to imagine what happened from there. Things done to me. Things
I
did.” She didn’t tell him it was a matter of survival. What did it matter? She had chosen to obey.

He looked at her through his tears. “You think you’re to blame for all of it, don’t you?”

“Who else? Mama? She loved my father. She loved me. She loved
God.
A lot of good love ever did her. How can I blame her for anything, Michael?

Should I blame Rab? He was just a poor, dull-witted drunk who thought he was doing the best for me. They killed him. Right there in the room, in front of me, because he knew too much.” She shook her head. He didn’t have to know everything.

“You’re not to blame, Amanda.”

206

Redeem.16 7/25/07 5:10 PM Page 207

F

R

A

N

C

I

N

E

R

I

V

E

R

S

Amanda.
Oh, God. “How can you still call me that?”

“Because it’s who you are now.”

“When will you ever understand?” she cried out in frustration. “It doesn’t matter who does things to you. You can’t pretend they didn’t happen.” She clutched the blanket around her, hugging herself. “You take it all into yourself. What’s happened is what I am. You said it yourself and you’re right. I can’t wash it away. I can’t get clean. I could strip my skin off. I could drain my blood. It wouldn’t make any difference. It’s like a foul stench I can’t get rid of no matter how hard I try. And I’ve tried, Michael. I have. I swear to you. I’ve fought and I’ve run. I’ve wanted to die. I almost succeeded with Magowan. Almost. Don’t you see? Nothing matters. Nothing ever made any difference. I’m a prostitute, and that’s what I was meant to be.”

“That’s a lie!”

“No, it isn’t. It isn’t.”

He leaned toward her, but she drew back, hugging herself even more tightly and looking away. “Amanda, we’ll make it through this,” he said. “We will. I swear a covenant with you.”

“No, we won’t make it. Just take me back.” When he shook his head, she pleaded.
“Please.
I don’t belong here with you. Find someone else.”

“Better than you, you mean?”

Her face was white as death, her pain stark and raw. “Yes.”

Michael reached out to put his hand on her shoulder, but she withdrew from him. He knew why now, and it pierced him to the core that she thought she was so unclean he shouldn’t even touch her.

“Do you think I’m such a saint?” he said hoarsely. Only moments ago he had denied love and God himself and even longed to kill his own wife.

What was the difference in murder by hand or thought? His fleshly nature had relished thoughts of retribution, even lusted for it.

He went down on his knees and held her shoulders. “I should have run all the way to Pair-a-Dice,” he said thickly. “I shouldn’t have waited for Paul to come home with his tail between his legs.”

She raised her head and looked him straight in the eyes, wanting to end it quickly, once and for all. “I gave him sex just to pay for the ride back.”

The pain of those words hit him hard, but he didn’t give up on her.

207

Redeem.16 7/25/07 5:10 PM Page 208

R

E

D

E

E

M

I

N

G

L

O

V

E

Michael lifted her chin. “Look at me, Amanda. I’m never taking you back.

Not ever. We belong together.”

“You’re a fool, Michael Hosea. A poor, blind fool.” She shivered violently.

Michael got up to get her a dry blanket. When he turned, her eyes were on him, and they were filled with fear. “What is it?” he said, frowning. “Do you think I mean to harm you?”

She closed her eyes tightly. “You want what I don’t have. I can’t love you.

Even if I was able, I wouldn’t.”

He hunkered down, took the damp blanket from her and covered her with the dry quilt. “Why not?”

“Because I spent the first eight years of my life watching my mother do penance for loving a man.”

He tipped her chin. “The wrong man,” he said firmly. “I’m not the wrong man, Amanda.” He straightened and dug in his pocket. Kneeling down before her, he dug beneath the quilt and found her hand. He slipped his mother’s wedding ring back on her finger. “Just to keep it official.” He touched her cheek tenderly and smiled.

She hung her head and pulled her hand back beneath the heavy folds of wool. She clenched it against her breasts and felt every self-inflicted scratch and bruise, but far worse was the feeling blooming inside her.

The spark was becoming a fire.

Michael took a cloth and dried her hair. When he finished, he pulled her close and cradled her in his arms. “Flesh of my flesh,” he whispered against her hair. “Blood of my blood.”

Angel closed her eyes tightly. His desire for her would diminish with time. He would stop loving her the same way her father had stopped loving Mama. And if she let herself love Michael the way Mama had loved Alex Stafford, he would tear her heart out.