Redeeming Love (65 page)

She remembered the darkness in which she had lived. She remembered all those months that Paul had stayed away and how his absence had hurt Michael. She could imagine Paul’s pain at the separation as well, and his shame. And the horrible guilt of it all. Hadn’t she kept company with her own?

It was on her head. She had allowed it to happen. For whatever reason.

What did it matter now? She couldn’t cast blame on anyone but herself. The choice had been hers. She had never even thought of consequences. The repercussions had been like a stone flung into smooth water. The splash, then the widening circles. It was a long time before the water was smooth again. And the stone was always there, lying cold and hard in the silent pool. Michael. Paul. Herself. Ruptured souls desperate to be put together again.

The torment and rift between Paul and Michael had grown wider, not because Michael couldn’t forgive, but because Paul couldn’t forgive himself.

Wasn’t that just what she had felt most of her life? That everything that had ever happened to her had somehow been her fault, that she was guilty even of being born? She had learned in the last few years that she wasn’t alone in those feelings. She heard them every day from other women who had experienced the same abuses she had. Forgiving others for what they had done to her had come far easier than forgiving herself. There were still moments of struggle.

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Her mouth trembled. “Paul, I’m so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you.

Truly, I am.”

He sat for a long time, unable to speak, thinking of all the time and all the persecution she had endured. From him. And now
she
was apologizing.

He had plotted her destruction and destroyed himself in the process. From that time, he had been consumed by hatred, blinded by it.
I have been insufferable and self-righteous and cruel.
The revelation was bitter and painful, but a relief, too. There was an odd sort of freedom in standing before a mirror and seeing himself clearly. For the first time in his life.

If it hadn’t been for Miriam, what would he have become? Loving her had softened him. She had seen something in him he’d never imagined anyone but Tess could see. And she’d seen something in Angel he couldn’t. He had wondered at it but had stubbornly held to his own convictions.

Michael’s wife had always been Angel to him, the high-priced soiled dove from Pair-a-Dice—and he had always treated her accordingly.

Now that he thought back, he couldn’t remember one time when she had defended herself. Why hadn’t she? He knew the answer to that as well.

She had just given it to him when she said he was right about her. It hadn’t been disdain or arrogance that had kept her silent, it had been shame. She believed everything he said about her. She believed she was soiled and unworthy, fit only to be used.

And I helped convince her. I filled the role Michael refused to play.

Remorse overwhelmed him. It hurt to look at her. It hurt even more to see the truth—that he was greatly to blame for Michael’s pain as well. If he had reached out just once as Miriam had said, maybe things would have been different, but he had been too proud, too sure he was right.

“I’m
sorry,” he said. “So very sorry. Can you forgive me?”

She wondered if he knew tears were pouring down his face, and she felt a sudden, inexplicable warmth toward this man. Michael’s brother,
her
brother. “I forgave you a long time ago, Paul. I left the valley and Michael of my own free will. Don’t lay blame for that on yourself.”

She leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly on the desk blotter. “Let’s leave all that behind us. Please. Tell me everything that’s happened since I left.” She smiled slightly, teasing him gently. “Especially how a man like you 450

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ever managed to win a girl like Miriam?”

He laughed for the first time in months. “God only knows,” he said, shaking his head. He sighed heavily and relaxed. “She loves me. She told me she knew the first time she met me she was going to marry me.” Talking about Miriam made the warmth come flowing back. “I’d watch her and want her so much and find every kind of reason why I wasn’t good enough to kiss the hem of her skirt. Then she came to me one dawn in my cabin.

She said she was moving in with me, and set about convincing me how much I needed her. I didn’t have the strength to send her home.”

Angel laughed softly. “I can’t imagine Miriam being that bold.”

“She told me she learned courage from you.” He hadn’t known what she meant then. Now he did. Angel had loved Michael enough to leave him when she thought it was in his best interest. Miriam had come to him for the same reasons. If she hadn’t, he would have gone back to the goldfields and drinking and spending time in the brothels—and he probably would have died up there with his face in the mud.

“Miriam sent me to find you. Amanda, I want to take you home.” He meant it.

Amanda.
Her throat closed, and she smiled. Another burden lifted, and she was grateful, but it wasn’t that easy or simple. She couldn’t let it be. “I can’t go back, Paul. Not ever.”

“Why not?”

How much did he have to know to understand and become her ally?

“There’s a lot about me you still don’t know.”

“Then tell me.”

She chewed on her lip. How much was enough? “I was sold into prostitution when I was eight,” she said slowly, staring down at nothing. “I never knew any other way of life until Michael married me.” She looked at him again. “And I never understood him, not the way he hoped I would. I can’t change who I was. I can’t undo the things that happened.”

Paul leaned forward. “You’re the one who still doesn’t understand, Amanda. There’s something I didn’t even comprehend until now because I was too stubborn and jealous and proud.… Michael
chose
you. With all your past, with all your frailties, with everything. He knew from the beginning 451

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where you came from, and it didn’t make any difference to him. There were plenty of women back home who would have jumped at the chance to marry him. Sweet, sensible virgin girls from God-fearing families. He never fell in love with any of them. He took one look at you, and he
knew.
Right from the beginning. You. No one else. He told me all that, but I thought it was sex. Now I know it wasn’t. It was something else.”

“A crazy accident—”

“I think it’s because he knew how much you needed him.”

She shook her head, not wanting to hear it, but Paul was determined.

“Amanda, he bought you out of bondage with his own sweat and blood, and you know it. Don’t tell me now you can’t go back to him.”

It hurt too much because she still loved and needed him. Sometimes she thought she would die without the sound of Michael’s voice. She would close her eyes and see his face and how he walked and how he had smiled at her. He had taught her how to play and sing and rejoice, things she had never known. And the sweetness of those memories was agonizing; the separation, unbearable.

Sometimes she tried not to think about him at all because the pain was so great. But the hunger for him was always there, the endless, aching hunger. Only he had opened himself to be used in her life by Christ.

Through him, Christ had been able to fill her until she was overflowing.

Michael had always said it was God; now she knew that was true.

And the knowledge that he’d been the bridge between her and her Savior only made her long for Michael all the more.

She couldn’t allow herself to think of all that. She had to think of what was good for him, not of what she wanted for herself. She had purpose now and satisfaction in her life. She wasn’t plagued by nightmares and self-doubt.

At least, not until now. And she had to tell Paul the complete truth so he would understand.

“I can’t have his children, Paul. Never. Something was done to me when I was very young. To make sure.” She had to stop and look away briefly before she could go on. “Michael wants to have children. You know that. It’s his dream.” She faced him again. “Can you understand now why I can’t go back? I know he would take me back again. I know I would still be his wife.

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But it wouldn’t be fair, would it? Not for a man like him.”

She struggled to control the tears that were so often near the surface lately.

She would not give in. She couldn’t. If she did, she would cry until she melted away into nothing.

Paul didn’t know what to say.

“Please,” she said. “When you go back, don’t tell Miriam you saw me. Say anything. Say I left the country. Say I died.” He cringed inwardly hearing his own thoughts come back to haunt him.

“Please, Paul. If you tell her, she would only tell Michael, and he would feel he had to come and get me again. Don’t let him find out where I am.”

“You needn’t fear that. He told Miriam he wouldn’t drag you back this time. He said it was your decision, that you had to come back on your own or you’d never really understand that you were free.” He wanted more than anything now to convince her she had to come home again. “Did you ever tell him you couldn’t have children?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“What did he say?”

She shook her head, dismissing it. “You know Michael.”

Indeed, he did. He stood up and put his hands on the desk. “He married you, Amanda. For better or worse, and for as long as you both are alive, and that’s how long he’ll wait for you, and past that, if I know Michael. If you only knew how much he’s hurting—”

“Don’t.”

“You know him. Did he ever give up on you before? He won’t give up waiting for you now. He’ll never give up.”

She shook her head, pale and distraught. “I can’t go back.”

Paul straightened. He didn’t know whether he had given her something to think about or just caused her more pain. “I’ve said all I can. It’s up to you, Amanda. Just don’t take too long making up your mind. I miss my wife.” He wrote down the name and address of the hotel where he stayed the night before. “I’d like to leave by nine tomorrow. Send word what you decide.”

He picked up his pack and shouldered it. “What is this place anyway? A boardinghouse?”

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She looked up at him, pulled back from her dilemma. “In a way. It’s a home for fallen women, women like me who want to change their lives.

We’ve been very fortunate. Several wealthy citizens gave us financial help.”

The man at the bank,
Paul thought.
God, forgive me. What a fool I’ve been.

“You started it, didn’t you?”

“Not all by myself. I’ve had a lot of help along the way.”

“What do you teach them in there?” He nodded toward the big room through the door and down the hall.

“Reading, writing, and ciphering; cooking, sewing, how to run a small business. As soon as they’re ready, we find positions for them. We’ve developed a way to accomplish that with the help of several churches.”

Father Patrick had been to see her often. Some Catholic priests were a lot like Michael. Devoted to God, humble, patient, and loving.

She hesitated. “Magdalena is one of the things I need to think about, Paul. They need me here.”

“No matter how good a cause, it’s just an excuse now. Pass the torch to someone else. That tall lady with the laughing eyes looked like she could take care of things.” He went to the door. “Your first obligation is to Michael.” He had said all he could. “I’ll wait until noon tomorrow at the lat-est. Then I’m going home.”

Angel sat for a long time thinking after he left. The sun went down, and she didn’t light the lamp. She remembered sitting on the hill a mile from the farmhouse and Michael’s saying, “This is the life I want to give you.” And he had.

How could he know what he had done for her? How could he even guess that her life was new because he had shown her the way to live?

Paul thought she had gone back to prostitution. What if Michael believed the same thing? She couldn’t bear for him to believe that. It would make everything he had ever done for her meaningless, and it had meant everything.

God, was I wrong? Should I go back? How can I face him again after all this
time? How can I see him and walk away again? What do you want me to do? I
know what I want. Oh, God, I know. But what do you want me to do?

She held herself and rocked, biting her lips and fighting the grief.
How
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can I not say thank you to him? Did I ever really explain what he did for me?

What have I ever given him back but grief?
But she had gifts to offer him now.

She had stood firm against Duke. She had walked the road Michael had taught her. Because of it, people had trusted her and backed her in building the House of Magdalena. She was doing good with her life, and it was all because of him, because of what she had seen in him. “Seek and ye shall find,” he’d read to her, and she had. Maybe if she found a way to tell him, it would give him peace.