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 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.
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?”
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 latest. 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 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.
Sarah, beloved.
God, I won’t ask for more than that. She closed her eyes tightly. I won’t ask you for more.
Classes were long over when she left the office. The girls had finished supper and retired to their rooms. Angel went up the stairs. She saw light beneath Susanna’s door and tapped.
“Come in.”
Angel entered.
“What’s happened?” Susanna asked, getting up from bed and coming to her. She took her hands. “You look so pale. We missed you at dinner. Who was that man?”
“A friend. Susanna, I want you to run Magdalena for me.”
“Me?” she said, astounded. She looked less assured than Angel ever remembered. She let go of her hands and stepped back. “You can’t mean it. I couldn’t!”
“I mean it, and, yes, you can.” Susanna was more t
han capable of handling things. She just didn’t know it yet. She would walk through the fire and come out the other side even stronger than now. Angel was suddenly very sure of that.
“But why? Where are you going?”
“Home,” Angel said. “I’m going home.”
Come, let us return to the Lord;
for he has torn, that he may heal us;
he has stricken, and he will bind us up.
HOSEA 6 : 1
“Paul!” Miriam flew from the cabin to throw her arms around his neck, weeping in joy. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” She kissed every part of his face she could reach. He laughed and kissed her mouth, feeling the pieces inside himself come back together again. He was home! All the tension of the past weeks, the guilt of the months before evaporated. She pressed closer to him, and other emotions surged through his body. Having Miriam in his arms again was heady indeed.
When he released her, she was flushed and breathless. She had never looked so beautiful to him. He looked her over and saw her pregnancy was beginning to show. “My, how you’ve grown,” he said, rubbing the bulge.
She laughed and put her hand over his. “Did you find her?”
“In San Francisco.” His heart lightened even more at the look in Miriam’s eyes.
She smiled up at him tenderly. “I can see things worked out.” She looked relieved and delighted. Her anger with him was completely forgotten. “Where is she?” she asked, looking past him.
“She wanted to sit for a few minutes up the road. I think she’s preparing herself for an ordeal. She’s hardly said a word the last two days traveling. She’s changed, Miriam.”
She searched his eyes and smiled. “So have you, my love. You’ve made your peace with yourself, haven’t you?”
“I had help along the way.”
Miriam saw Amanda then and left him standing while she ran up the road, arms outstretched, to meet her. The two women embraced warmly, and Paul smiled. When Miriam let go, she was chattering on gaily, tears streaming down her cheeks. Angel looked pale and strained, not at all at ease. She glanced toward Michael’s land, and Paul understood why. Amanda was afraid to face Michael after all this time.
Lord, make it right for her and Michael. Please. I’d see it as a personal favor.
“I’ll bring water up, and you can have a bath,” Miriam was saying, looping her arm through Amanda’s as they walked toward him. “I made bread this morning, and there’s soup simmering. You must be famished after your trip.”
“I can’t stay, Miriam.”
Miriam stopped. “You can’t? But why?”
“I have to go to Michael.”
“Well, of course, you do, but you can rest a few minutes and wash up. We can talk it over.”
“I can’t,” Angel said. “If I wait any longer, I may not be able to go at all.” Her smile was weak.
Miriam searched her face. She glanced at Paul and then back again. She hugged her tightly. “We’ll walk with you.” She beseeched Paul with her look.
“Sure we will,” he agreed readily, and Angel nodded. Now that the moment was at hand, they were all afraid of what would happen. Just how long was Michael’s patience? Worse, would he be angry with them for interfering and taking things into their own hands? Or had they been doing God’s will all along?
When they were within sight of Michael’s homestead, Angel stopped. “I have to go the rest of the way alone,” she told them. “Thank you for coming this far with me.”
Miriam looked ready to argue. When she looked to Paul to agree, he shook his head. Amanda was right.
Angel kissed Miriam’s cheek and hugged her. “Thank you for sending Paul,” she whispered.
They watched her walk away alone.
Paul put his arm around Miriam’s shoulders and watched Amanda. He remembered how Angel had always walked, head high, back straight. Arrogance, he had thought, but it had been pride that had held her together for so long, and pride that had kept her separate. She had a quiet grace about her now, a beautiful humility.
“She’s afraid,” he said quietly.
“She’s always been afraid,” Miriam said, leaning against him. “Do you think we did the right thing, Paul? Maybe we should have let her come back on her own.”
It was the first time he had heard Miriam uncertain. “She wouldn’t have. She had made up her mind. She thought you were married to him.”
“Because she told me to. She said she wanted me to have his children.” She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. “But I only wanted yours.”
“Oh, my love.” He held her close. “We’ll have to remember the man Michael is.”
“Yes.” She put her arms around him. “It’s really up to them now, isn’t it?”
Paul turned her face to him and kissed her with all the longing he had felt during the weeks of their separation. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She reached up and pulled his head down to kiss him back. It was a lover’s kiss this time. “Let’s go home.”
Angel could see Michael working in the field. She was so full of conflicting emotions she could hardly bear it. Self-doubt, self-hatred, struggling pride, and fear. All the things that had sent her running so long ago and some that had kept her from going to him before now. She couldn’t allow them to stop her again.
Oh, God, give me strength. Please. Walk with me. Help me. I don’t know if I can go through this.
I have not given you a heart of fear.
She knew the moment Michael saw her. He glanced up as she was crossing the meadow. He stood very still, staring at her in the distance.
I mustn’t cry. I mustn’t.
She kept walking toward him. He didn’t move. Doubt stirred again, but she fought it down. She wanted to shed all the barriers that had kept her from him, all those months of defiance and fear and uncertainty. She wanted to discard the horrible memories of her childhood and the guilt she had taken on herself for things she had been powerless to stop.
If only things had been different. She wanted so desperately to be clean for him, to be new. She wanted to please him. She would give the rest of her life to that end if he would let her. She wanted to strip away her past. Oh, if she could only be Eve again, a new creature in Paradise. Before the Fall.
With trembling hands, she removed the trappings of the world. She dropped her shawl and took off the woolen jacket. She worked at the tiny buttons of the shirtwaist. She shrugged it off and let it drop as she walked. She unhooked her skirt and let it slide down over her hips and to the ground. She stepped out of it.
Without faltering, she walked toward him.
She had never said all she should have. He didn’t know what he had done for her. He had been like the sea, sometimes storm-cast, with waves crashing against a cliff wall; other times he was like the steady, lapping surf. Always he had been like the tide, washing her shore, reshaping her coastline.
Lord, no matter what he does or says, I have to thank him. He was always your good and faithful servant, and I never thanked him. Not enough. Oh, God, never, never enough.
She removed the camisole and slips, the corset cover and corset and pantalets. With each garment she removed and dropped, she cast away anger, fear, and her blindness to the multitudes of joy in life, her own desperate pride. She had one single, abiding purpose: to show Michael she loved him, and she peeled away the layers of pride one by one until she was humbled by her own nakedness. Last of all, she stepped out of her thin leather shoes and drew the pins that held her hair.
As she came close, she saw the gray at his temples and the new lines in his beloved face. When she looked into his eyes, everything she felt spilled over. She had always known her own pain and loneliness, her own need. Now she came to face his.
Oh, what had she done to him in denying her love, in turning away? She had played God and done what she thought best for him, and all she had done was cause him pain. She thought he was too strong to be hurt, too wise to wait. How mu
ch had her martyrdom cost him?
All her carefully planned words fled. So many words to say a simple, heartfelt thing: I love you, and I’m sorry. She could not even speak. The tears that had been frozen inside her all her life came, and the last bastion melted away in a flood.
Weeping, Angel sank to her knees. Hot tears fell on his boots. She wiped them away with her hair. She bent over, heartbroken, and put her hands on his feet. “Oh, Michael, Michael, I’m sorry.…”
Oh, God, forgive me.
She felt his hand on her head. “My love,” he said. He took hold of her and drew her up again. She couldn’t look into his face, wanting to hide her own. Michael took off his shirt and put it around her shoulders. When he tipped her chin up, she had no choice but to look into his eyes again. They were wet like hers but filled with light. “I hoped you would come home someday,” he said and smiled.
“There’s so much I have to say. So many things to tell you.”
He combed his fingers into her flowing hair and tilted her head back. “We have the rest of our lives.”
She knew then that she had doubted he would forgive her again, but he already had. She could live with him forever and not know his depths. Oh, Lord, thank you, thank you! She went into his arms, spreading her hands on his strong back, pressing herself as close as she could, her gratitude so strong she could hardly bear it. He was warmth and light and life. She wanted to be flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood. Forever. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the sweet scent of him and felt she was finally home again.
She thought she had been saved by his love for her, and in part she had been. It had cleansed her, never casting blame. But that had been only the beginning. It was loving him in return that had brought her up out of the darkness. What can I give him more than that? I would give him anything.