“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.”
“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.
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.”
“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!”
“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. Maybe she would not have so much to regret.
Her whole life was one huge regret, right from the beginning. “She should never have been born, Mae.”
Michael took her hand, and she started. “What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly.
“Nothing.” Warmth spread through her at his touch. Disturbed, she drew her hand away. He frowned slightly. “Something’s bothering you.”
She shrugged, not meeting his eyes.
He studied her thoughtfully. “Paul isn’t going to say or do anything to hurt you.”
“It wouldn’t matter if he did.”
“If he hurts you, he hurts me.”
His tone caught her full attention. She had intended to hurt Paul and had hurt Michael instead. Not once had she thought that day of what it would do to him. She thought only of herself and her anger and her hopelessness. Maybe she could make some amends. “It’s nothing to do with Paul,” she assured him. “It’s just that truth always catches up.”
“I’m counting on that.”
Michael watched Amanda throughout the day. She withdrew further and further into herself. She worked with Elizabeth and Miriam but said very little. She was preoccupied, in full retreat, building her walls again. When Ruthie took her hand, he saw the pain in Amanda’s eyes and knew what she expected. He couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen. Sometimes people became too caught up in the problems of day-to-day living to notice the pain in someone else.
Young Miriam noticed. “She’s here, but she isn’t. She won’t let me close, Michael. What’s wrong with her today? She’s acting the same way she did when we first came to your place.”
“She’s afraid of being hurt.”
“She’s hurting herself now.”
“I know.” He wasn’t going to reveal her past or discuss his wife’s problems.
“Paul doesn’t like her. That’s part of it. She’s not a prostitute anymore, but she expects everyone to look at her and treat her like one.”
Rage shot through him. “Did Paul tell you that?”
She shook her head. “She told me the first night and loudly enough for Mama to hear.” Tears filled her eyes. “What are we going to do about her, Michael? The way she holds Ruthie breaks my heart.”
Michael knew Miriam was going to have plenty to do in helping John and Elizabeth get this place going. He couldn’t ask her to make frequent visits to his place so Amanda would know the affection was real and not a matter of convenience, and the girl was already looking on Paul like he was a Greek god come down from Olympus, despite his flaws. He knew Paul found the girl attractive, as well. It was clear in the studied way he avoided her. Whatever way it went, Miriam’s loyalties were going to be put to a hard test.
John took out his fiddle. No quiet mournful hymns this time, but Virginia reels. Michael caught hold of Angel and whirled her around. Being in his arms was heady stuff.
Angel’s heart raced. She could feel heat pouring into her face and didn’t dare look up at him. Jacob danced with his mother while Miriam danced around the clearing with Ruth. John lifted his booted foot and gave Andrew a shove toward his sister Leah. Paul watched, leaning indolently against the cabin wall. He looked so alone, Angel pitied him.
“It’s the first time I’ve danced with you,” Michael said.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “You’re very good.”
“And that surprises you.” He laughed. “I’m good at a lot of things.” His arm tightened around her, speeding up her pulse even more.
Jacob came and bowed to Angel, and Michael relinquished her with a grin. She glanced around the yard, and they danced. It only took one look at Miriam to know she wanted to dance with someone other than her baby sister or younger brothers. But Michael had danced with Elizabeth, Leah, and Ruth, and left Miriam alone. An unpleasant sensation stirred in Angel’s belly. Why did Michael avoid Miriam? Was he afraid to get too close to her? When he came back to claim her from Jacob, she pulled her hand away. “You haven’t danced with Miriam. Why won’t you dance with her?”
He frowned slightly and caught firm hold of her hand, pulling her into his arms. “Paul will get around to it.”
“He hasn’t danced with anyone yet.”
“And he won’t feel the necessity if I step in for him. I’d hazard a guess he’s thinking about Tessie. He met her at a dance. It’ll dawn on him soon that young Miriam needs a partner.”
Paul did dance with Miriam, but he was stiff and grim and hardly spoke a word to her. Miriam was clearly perplexed. As soon as the dance was finished, he said good night and went for his horse.
“We’d better head for home, too,” Michael said.
Miriam embraced Angel and whispered, “I’ll be over in a few days to visit. Maybe you’ll tell me what’s eating that man.”
Angel lifted little Ruth and held her tightly, kissing her smooth, baby cheek and nuzzling her neck. “Good-bye, darling. Be good.”
Michael lifted Angel onto the saddle and swung up behind her. His arm held her firmly as they headed home in the moonlight. Neither spoke the whole way. Angel was overwhelmingly aware of his body against hers and was confused by the sensations running through her. She wished she were walking.
When she spotted the cabin through the trees, she was relieved. Michael dismounted and reached up for her. Leaning toward him, she rested her hands on his strong shoulders. Her body brushed his as he lifted her down, and she felt life coursing through her, wild, exhilarating, and unfamiliar.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly.
“You’re welcome.” He grinned, and her mouth went dry. When he didn’t take his hands from her waist, her heart beat faster and faster. “You’ve been very quiet all day,” he said, pensive again.
“I’ve nothing to say.”
“What’s bothering you?” he asked, pushing the thick braid back off her shoulder.
“Nothing.”
“We’re on our own again. Could that be it?” He tipped her chin and kissed her. Angel felt her insides melting, her knees weakening. When Michael lifted his head, he touched her face tenderly. “I’ll be in shortly.”
Pressing her hand against her quivering stomach, she watched him lead the horse away. What was happening to her? She went inside the cabin and set to work on the fire. Once it was going, she looked around for something else to do to keep her mind off Michael, but everything was tidy. Elizabeth had even restuffed the mattress with fresh straw. Herbs hung from a beam and filled the cabin with their sweet, fresh scent. A jar of mustard flowers was on the table, undoubtedly placed there by Ruth.
Michael shouldered their things in from the barn. “Pretty quiet around here with the Altmans gone, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll miss Miriam and Ruth most.” He set the trunk back in the corner. She was bending over the fire. He put his hands on her hips and she straightened. “They love you.”
Her eyes flickered. “Let’s talk about something else, shall we?” she said and stepped away from him.
He caught her shoulders. “No. Let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”
“There’s nothing on my mind.” He waited, obviously unsatisfied, and she drew in a ragged breath. “I knew better than to get close to them.” She
pushed his hands away and hugged her shawl about her.
“You think they love you less now that they’re living in their own place?”
She glared at him defensively. “Sometimes I wish you’d just leave me alone, Michael. That you’d just send me back where I came from. It’d be so much easier all the way around.”
“Because you’re feeling now?”
“I felt before, and I got over it!”
“You adore Miriam and that little girl.”
“So what?” She would get over it, too.
“What’re you going to do when Ruth comes over here with another fistful of mustard flowers? Show her the door?” he asked harshly. “She’s got feelings, too. So does Miriam.” He saw by her expression that she didn’t think they would come at all. He took her in his arms, holding her there even when he felt her resistance. “I’ve prayed unceasingly that you might learn to love, and now you have. Only you fell in love with them instead of me.” He laughed softly in self-mockery. “There were times when I wished I’d never brought them here. I’m jealous.”
Her cheeks burned, and she couldn’t still her racing heart no matter how hard she tried. If he knew the power he had over her, what would he do with it? “I don’t want to fall in love with you,” she said, pushing away.
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll just end up using it against me.” She saw she had angered him.
“How?”
“I don’t know. The truth is, maybe you wouldn’t even know you’re doing it.”
“Whose truth are we talking here? Duke’s? Truth sets you free. Were you ever free with him? Even for a single minute? He filled your head with lies.”
“And what about my father?”
“Your father was selfish and cruel. That doesn’t mean every man in the world is the same as him.”
“Every man I’ve ever known is.”
“Does that include me? What about John Altman? What about Joseph Hochschild, and a thousand others?”
Her face jerked in pain.
Seeing her torment, he gentled. “You’re a bird who’s been in a cage all your life, and suddenly all the walls are gone, and you’re in the wide open. You’re so afraid you’re looking for any way back into the cage again.” He saw the emotions flicker across her pale face. “Whatever you choose to think now, it’s not safer there, Amanda. Even if you tried to go back now, I don’t think you could survive that way again.”