He put his hand on her arm again. “Sit down. Meribah’s on her way with the tray.” His wife served her a cup of coffee. Angel’s hands were shaking as she took it. She tried to steady herself, feeling Joseph’s perusal. Meribah offered her some cake. Angel declined. Joseph’s mother had finished her sweeping and joined them. Angel wished she hadn’t set foot in the place. With the censure of three pairs of eyes, she felt herself withering inside. They talked about the flood, and rebuilding and stocking the store. Though they didn’t ask personal questions, she could feel their inquiring looks.
A customer came in, and Meribah went to serve him. Another came in, and Rebekkah, seeing Joseph had no intention of taking care of him, excused herself.
“Have you a room?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Angel said. She raised her chin. “But it shouldn’t be too hard.”
“You’re going to stay here,” he said. She looked past exhaustion.
“What are your wife and mother going to say to that?” she asked sardonically, unaware of the little-girl-lost look in her eyes.
“They’d wonder more if I sent you off with no place to go. We can’t offer you grand accommodations, but we can give you a clean cot and blankets and kosher food. What do you say?”
She chewed on her lip and looked at the two women.
He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “They won’t mind.” And even if they did, he intended to make sure they kept their reservations to themselves. It was late enough that he could close the store a little earlier than usual.
Angel sat with them at the upstairs dining-room table. She pushed her food around on her plate, pretending to eat but having no appetite. Meribah and Rebekkah didn’t ask her any probing questions, but she could feel their deep curiosity. When Meribah cleared the table, Angel rose and helped. Joseph and his mother began talking in low agitated tones as soon as she was through the door. They stopped when she came back in for the rest of the dishes. When she stacked them, she paused.
“I don’t have to stay longer than tonight,” she said. “If it’s going to cause trouble between you, I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“You’ll stay as long as Joseph says you will,” Rebekkah said in a tone that invited no argument. “He’s going to put your cot next to the wood stove downstairs. You’ll be warm there.”
Joseph set up her cot. He came back upstairs and told Meribah he was going out for a while. He would be back in a few hours. Surprised, Meribah didn’t question him. “He never goes out at night,” she said as he closed the door behind him. She took up some embroidery.
“Business,” Rebekkah said, knitting rapidly.
Angel sat with the two women in the parlor. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the mantel and Rebekkah’s clacking needles.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed,” Angel said at last. Rebekkah nodded approval. Angel closed the door behind her and paused. The two women began talking in earnest. Probably about her. She went downstairs and lay on the cot in the darkness. She slept fitfully, dreaming of Duke.
Rebekkah came down at dawn. Angel awakened and dressed quickly. “You didn’t sleep well, did you?” Rebekkah said as she watched her gather her things.
“I was fine. Thank you for letting me stay last night.” She folded the blankets away and closed up the cot, tucking it into a narrow space between shelves. She could feel Rebekkah’s dark eyes watching her every move.
“Joseph said you’re looking for work,” Rebekkah said. “We’ve plenty for you to do around here.”
Angel straightened in surprise and faced her. “You’re asking me to work for you?”
Rebekkah drew herself up. “Unless you have something better in mind.”
“Oh, no. I didn’t,” Angel said quickly. “What would you like me to do?” Rebekkah briskly gave her a list.
Angel washed windows and swept out the store. She stacked canned goods and folded red flannel shirts. She hung tack on the walls. When men approached her, Meribah or Rebekkah intercepted them, answering their questions and showing them merchandise. Rebekkah asked her to carry boxes in from the storeroom and stock the shelves behind the counters. Angel worked hard, stopping for the noon meal and then returning to her labor until Joseph closed and locked the door after dusk.
Rebekkah handed her an envelope over dinner. “Your wages,” she said simply, and Angel blinked, feeling her throat close up. She looked at Joseph and Meribah, then back at Rebekkah. Rebekkah nodded at her son. “She’s a good worker.” Angel hung her head, unable to speak. Rebekkah set a dish of potatoes beside her. “Eat. You need some meat on your bones.”
Later that night, Angel sat on her cot, a lantern burning, and counted her earnings. She had made more in a half hour at the Palace, but she had never felt so clean and proud.
The next day Rebekkah asked her to measure out beans into five-pound sacks, then tie and stack them. When she finished, Angel straightened the bolts of fabric and stood them up rather than stack them. Meribah came over and said the display looked very nice and it would be much easier to handle the bolts that way. “Joseph just got a shipment of tubs. Would you help me bring them in? We can stack them in the back corner.”
Each day Rebekkah gave her duties to perform, and each evening when the door was locked and the CLOSED sign put out, Rebekkah paid her.
“Look what just arrived,” Joseph said, patting a crate.
Angel set her broom aside and tucked several strands of hair beneath the scarf covering her head. “What is it?”
“Michael’s stove.”
Her heart leaped into her throat at the mention of his name. “I’d better finish sweeping,” she said. Joseph watched her for a long moment and then went back to his own work.
Angel was distracted at dinner. As soon as the dishes were cleared and washed, she excused herself. Meribah came downstairs a short time later. “Joseph and Rebekkah are going over the accounts,” she said. She hesitated. “You hardly ate anything at dinner. Are you feeling well?”
“I’m fine.” Angel couldn’t stop thinking about Michael. As long as she was moving and working, she could hold the longing at bay. She looked at the big crate against the wall. Word would have to be sent, and then Michael would come and get his stove.
I’ll have to leave before he comes.
Meribah sat on a box and warmed her hands near the Franklin stove. “You’re thinking about leaving, aren’t you?”
Angel glanced up. “Yes.”
“You’re not happy with the work?”
“It’s not the work. It’s…” What could she say? Sighing, she nodded toward the big crate. “Michael’s stove. He’ll come for it soon.”
“And you don’t want to see him?”
“I can’t.”
“Was it so terrible?”
It was so wonderful. Too wonderful to last. “It’s just better if I don’t.”
“Where will you go?”
She shrugged. “San Francisco. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”
Meribah folded her hands in her lap. “Joseph thinks a great deal of your husband.”
Angel nodded and looked away. “I know.” Just his name roused so many feelings inside her. She thought the longing would diminish. She thought distance would dissolve her feelings for him. She had been away from him for three weeks, and she ached for him more now than she had the night she left.
“I was married once before,” Meribah said. “To a very difficult man. My mother died when I was young, and Papa wanted me well settled before his time came. So he picked a man who, for all outward appearances, was prosperous and kind. My husband was neither. I used to pray that God would deliver me from him. And he did.” She paused. “Then I learned how cruel life can treat a woman alone.”
“I’ve been alone all my life,” Angel said simply.
“If your husband is even half the man Joseph thinks he is, you should go back and work things out with him.”
Angel retreated. “Don’t ‘should’ on me,” she said defensively. “You don’t know anything about my life or where I’ve been.” Meribah was silent for a long moment, and Angel regretted her harshness.
“You’re right,” Meribah said finally. “I don’t know all the circumstances, but I do know the little Joseph told me.”
“What did he tell you?” Angel said, hearing the brittle tone in her voice but unable to ease it.
Troubled, Meribah looked at her sadly. “That your husband took you out of a brothel. He fell in love with you the first time he saw you and probably loves you still.”
Her words sent a shaft of pain through Angel. “Love doesn’t last.” She didn’t know how much showed in her pale face.
Meribah’s face softened. “Sometimes it does. If it’s the right kind.”
Angel lay in the darkness after Meribah left and worked over what she had said. Mama had worked to keep Alex Stafford’s love alive. She had tried everything to please him and keep his passion alive. Angel wondered now if it hadn’t been those very efforts that served to drive him away. Mama had been so hungry for his love. Her entire life had revolved around Alex Stafford’s coming to the small cottage. Her happiness depended solely on him. It had been an obsession.
How was what she was feeling for Michael any different? She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Her heart longed to be near him, to hear his voice, to see his eyes light up when he looked at her. Her body ached for him, for his warmth and his touch. Her emotions were in turmoil.
She told Joseph in the morning that she was leaving. “You can’t go,” he said, clearly very upset with her. “Meribah hurt her back last night. Didn’t you, Meribah?” Meribah looked confused. “You can admit it,” he told her. She spread her hands. “See?” Joseph said. “And I’ve got a shipment out back. I can’t get it all out on the tables by myself.”
“All right, Joseph,” Angel gave in, “but as soon as that’s done, I have to leave.”
She set to work immediately, in a hurry to finish the project and be on her way. Joseph kept telling her to take it easy, he didn’t need another woman with a pulled back. When they stopped for dinner, he poked over his food for so long, Angel was exasperated. When she got up to go back to work, he told her to sit down and finish her coffee. If he was in such a dither about getting his merchandise out, why was he wasting so much time? And nothing seemed wrong with Meribah’s back when she rose and took the heavy platter from the table.
When they set back to work, he said he changed his mind about where he had put some lanterns and wanted to move them to the other side of the store. The merchandise on the table he chose had to be moved, too. She did as he said, feeling more and more tense as the day went on.
Get out of here, Angel. Go. Now.
But she stayed, working with Joseph, wanting to finish what they had started, even if he was changing his mind every half hour. What was wrong with him today?
Joseph laid his hand on her shoulder. “That’ll do for the day. Why don’t you close up?”
“It’s early, isn’t it?”
“Late enough,” he said and smiled. He signaled for Meribah and his mother to come, and they went through the back curtain together. Frowning, Angel turned.
Michael was standing in the open doorway.
You are all fair, my love;
there is no flaw in you.
SONG OF SOLOMON 4 : 7
Angel froze in shock as Michael walked toward her. He was covered with road dust, his face lined and grim. “Joseph sent word you were here.”
Her heart was galloping. “Why did you come?”
“To take you home.”
She backed away from him. “I don’t want to go back,” she said, wanting to sound firm and indifferent and sounding neither as her voice shook.
He kept coming. She bumped into a table of boots, sending several thudding to the floor. “I knew you wouldn’t go back to Pair-a-Dice,” he said.
She gripped the table behind her for support and stood her ground. “What made you so sure?” she mocked. He didn’t answer. She couldn’t read the look in his eyes. When he reached out, she held her breath. He touched her cheek tentatively, and she pressed her lips tightly together to keep them from trembling.
“I just knew, Amanda.”
Unable to bear the rush of emotions, she pushed past him frantically. “You don’t even know why I left you.”
Michael caught hold of her and swung her around. “Oh, yes, I do!” He pulled her into his arms. “You left because of this.” He covered her mouth with his. When she tried to push free, he cupped the back of her head. She struggled harder as the betraying warmth stole over her.
When she stilled finally, Michael slipped the bandanna off her hair. Pulling the ribbon loose, he raked his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back. She could feel the fierce pounding of his heart beneath her palms.
“That was it, wasn’t it?” he said hoarsely. Ashamed, she tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t let her. “Wasn’t it?”
“I don’t want to feel this way,” she whispered brokenly.
Someone cleared his throat. “Is the store still open?”
Michael turned, his hands sliding down her arms. He squeezed her hands gently before releasing her. “No, it’s not. Sorry.” He crossed the room and politely showed the prospective customer out the door. He closed it firmly after him, set the lock, and flipped over the sign in the window.
When Michael turned, he saw Amanda at the back of the store. She stooped over for something near the Franklin stove. He followed and saw she had a carpetbag and was gathering her few things together. His mouth tipped. “We’ll go home in the morning.”
She wouldn’t look at him. “You go home. I’m going to San Francisco.”
He clenched his teeth, striving for patience. Her face was so white and strained. When he tried to touch her again, she moved quickly, putting a barrel between them. She was stuffing her clothes into the bag frantically. “You’re in love with me,” he said. “Do you think you can run away from that?”
At the words, Angel froze, her head down, her hands gripping the bag tightly. She was shaking violently; the effect he had on her was shattering. She began stuffing her clothes into the bag again. The sooner she got away from him the better. She was trying to stuff her feelings in along with them. “I told you I would never let myself fall in love with anyone, and I meant it!”
“But miracle of miracles, you did, didn’t you?” he said, as determined and relentless as ever.
“Go away, Michael.”
“Not a chance.”
“Just leave me alone!” She rolled up the last skirt and jammed it in with the rest of her things. She snapped the bag shut and glared up at him. “You want to know what love feels like to me? It feels like you’re ripping my heart out.”
His eyes flashed. “It started feeling that way when you left. Not when you were with me.” She tried to move past him, and he blocked her way. “I saw the way you started looking at me, Amanda. I felt the way you responded that last night. I felt it all the way through me.”
“And it gave you a sense of power, didn’t it? Didn’t it?”
“Yes!” he admitted roughly and caught her arm when she would have retreated to the back door. “But it’s not a power I’m going to use against you.”
“You’re right,” she said, trying to tug free. “I’m not going to give you the chance!”
He yanked the bag from her hand and sent it bouncing off the back wall. “I’m not your father! I’m not Duke! I’m not some gent paying for half an hour in your bed!” His hands tightened on her arms. “I’m your husband! I don’t take what you feel lightly. I love you. You’re my wife!”
Biting her lip, Angel forced the tears back.
Michael gentled. He cupped her face so she couldn’t look away from him and saw her heartbreaking struggle against her emotions. Emotion had always been her enemy. She couldn’t allow herself to feel if she were goin
g to survive. He understood that, but he had to make her see that it wasn’t an enemy anymore.
“Amanda, I knew the day I saw you that you belonged with me.”
“Do you know how many times men have said that to me?” she said, wanting to drive him away.
He went on doggedly as though her words hadn’t stabbed at him. “I’ve loved watching you grow and change. You’re never the same. I love the way you take on new things, your drive to learn. I love how you work, how you have this little-girl look on your face when you finish something you’ve never tried before. I love watching you skip across the meadow with Ruth. I love seeing you laugh with Miriam and hang on Elizabeth’s wisdom. I love the whole idea of growing old with you and waking up to you every morning for the rest of my life.”
“Don’t,” she whispered brokenly.
“I haven’t even started.” He shook her tenderly. “Amanda, I loved giving you pleasure. I loved feeling you melt. I loved hearing you say my name.” She blushed, and he kissed her. “Love cleanses, beloved. It doesn’t beat you down. It doesn’t cast blame.” He kissed her again, wishing he had the right words to say what he felt. Words would never be enough to show her what he meant. “My love isn’t a weapon. It’s a lifeline. Reach out and take hold, and don’t let go.”
When he drew her into his arms this time, she didn’t struggle. When she put her arms around him, he sighed, the stress of the past weeks dissolving. “This feels good, doesn’t it? And right.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” she said miserably, pressing closer, inhaling the sweet scent of his body. She had missed this feeling of safety that only came when she was with him. He was so determined to have her. Well, why not let him? Wasn’t it what she wanted? To belong to him. To stay with him forever. Wasn’t this what she had longed for every moment since she had left him?
“You make me hope, Michael. I don’t know if that’s good or not.”
“It’s good,” he said, holding her close and rejoicing at her admission. It was a beginning.