Redeeming Love

by Francine Rivers

  “This way is best.” He held the curtain aside.

  “There are a dozen men who’ll stop us.”

  “There isn’t a man in that room who’ll touch me.”

  “Who do you think you are? God?”

  “No, ma’am. Just Jonathan Axle, but I do own one of the largest banks in San Francisco. Now, shall we go?”

  He wasn’t giving her any choice. Angel hugged the trembling child closer. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. We’ll get you out of here.” Or die trying.

  Cherry stayed close to her side as Jonathan Axle led them out to center stage. The music came to a discordant end, and the dancing girls came to a confused stop. Angel looked around and saw the shocked expressions on men’s faces. Duke was nowhere in the room. Neither was the man who had guarded her. “Let’s go,” Axle said quietly, his hand a firm but gentle support beneath her arm. She went down the steps into the middle of the room. The men parted before her.

  Many of the patrons were staring at Cherry, dressed and made up like a fast woman though she was clearly still a child. Men moved back to open a path before her. The child’s whimper seemed to fill the room.

  The men began talking in low, stunned voices. Angel overheard some of the remarks as she passed. “Why would he have a little one like that in a place like this?”

  Angel stopped and looked at him. “Why do you think?” she said softly, grief-stricken, and saw the man’s mouth drop open in horrified comprehension.

  Voices rose like a groundswell behind her, and she heard the violence in them. The men wanted blood, but not hers. She came out into the night air and let out her breath, not even aware she’d been holding it.

  “This way,” Axle said. “I’m sorry, but I’ve no carriage. It’s several blocks. Can you manage?”

  Angel nodded and shifted the child’s weight. She followed him some distance in silence before asking, “Where are you taking us?”

  “To my house.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What for?”

  “So my wife and daughter can see to your needs while I figure out what’s to be done about that place. It should be burned, and that devil with it.”

  She was embarrassed for her distrust, but she didn’t know anything about this man for all his apparent sympathy. The fact that he was a banker didn’t mean he had goodwill in mind. She had known bankers before.

  The weight of the child seemed to increase with every step. Her muscles ached, but she kept walking. Cherry kept looking back worriedly. “Do you think he’ll come after us?”

  “No,” Angel assured her, then directed a question to Axle. “Why did you help me like that? I’m a stranger to you.”

  “It was what you sang. The Lord couldn’t have made it any more clear that I was to get you out of there.”

  She glanced at him in surprise. She didn’t say anything for a while, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Mister Axle, I’ve got to be honest with you.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t believe in God.” She felt a piercing pain as she said it.

  Don’t you?

  The question came from deep within her, and she frowned. She had called to God in her fear, and here she was. And then there was that voice… had she imagined it? Axle’s next words echoed her confusion.

  “No? You sounded pretty convincing back there.”

  “I was scared to death, and it was the only song I could remember.”

  He smiled. “There’s something in that.”

  “I don’t believe in some little, shriveled up old man in a long white beard sitting on a throne looking over me.”

  He chuckled. “Neither do I. I believe in something a lot bigger than that. And I’ll tell you something else.” His smile was gentle. “Just because you don’t believe in the Lord doesn’t mean his power isn’t working for you.”

  She blinked. Her throat closed tight, and she felt ashamed. She had tried every way to get away from Duke and been unable to accomplish it. And then tonight, a single hymn Michael had taught her had done the trick. How? It didn’t make any sense. That voice had said My will, but all she had really done was the only thing that came into her mind. And this man had come forward from nowhere.

  Words Michael had read came back to her. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me.”

  Duke had been afraid of her. She hadn’t mistaken that.

  Not of you, Sarah. Of me.

  She shivered, goosebumps breaking out over her pale skin again as her heart opened wide. O God, I’ve denied you so many times. How could you rescue me now?

  Though you deny me, I love you with an everlasting love.

  What happened back there? I don’t even know. How did we get out? Oh, Jesus, I don’t understand. I just don’t understand how you did it.

  It began to drizzle, the heavy bay mists closing around them. Cherry hung closer to Angel as they walked. “I’m cold,” she whispered.

  “Is it much further, Mister Axle?” Her voice quavered, but not from cold.

  “Just up the hill.”

  She saw a big house looming above them. He was rich all right. The rain was coming down hard now, and the thought of shelter drove her on. Lanterns burned in the windows. She thought she saw a woman peering through a curtain. Jonathan Axle opened the gate. The door opened before he was halfway there, and a tall, slender woman with her hair pulled back severely stood before them. Angel couldn’t make out the woman’s face, but her heart sank. What was this lady going to say about her husband bringing home three prostitutes, regardless of the tender ages of two of them?

  “Come in before you catch your death,” the woman ordered. She was clearly agitated. Angel didn’t know whether she was talking to Jonathan Axle or to all of them, and she stopped cold, not sure what to do. “Come in, come in,” the woman said, beckoning to her.

  Jonathan put his hand beneath Angel’s arm. “You needn’t be afraid of her,” he said, amused. “She’s mostly bark.” Angel steeled herself as she walked forward up the path. Maybe the lady would let them dry off before she threw them out again.

  She entered, Cherry right behind her, and looked around before facing the woman, who surprisingly turned out to be young and attractive, despite the unflattering bun and somber dress. “There’s a fire going in through here,” she said and led them into a large room with simple but comfortable furnishings. “Sit down, please.”

  Angel did. She looked up at the young woman and saw she was looking back at her with open curiosity. She took them all in from head to foot. “It’s all right,” Angel whispered to the shaking child, stroking her back soothingly. But was it?

  The child relaxed in her arms and drew back enough to look around. Cherry was sitting on the settee beside her, her back straight, her face very pale and frightened. The young woman looked at Jonathan Axle for an explanation. If she was shocked by what they very clearly were, she didn’t show it. “Father, what’s happened?”

  “My daughter, Susanna,” Jonathan Axle said, and the young woman nodded and offered a tentative if confused smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know your names,” he said in apology.

  “My name’s Angel. This is Cherry, and—” She stopped, suddenly realizing she didn’t even know the child’s name. “Darling,” she said softly, raising the girl’s chin. “What’s your name?” The child’s lip quivered, and she whispered something before burying her head against Angel’s shoulder again. “Faith,” Angel said. “Her name’s Faith.”

  “Some blankets are in order, Susanna. Would you see to that while I find your mother?”

  “Mama’s in the kitchen warming up your supper,” she said with a smile and went hurriedly out the door.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” Jonathan said and left them alone.

  Cherry’s shoulders hunched, and she started to cry as soon as he was gone. “I’m scared. Duke’s going to kill me.”

  “Duke’s never going to touch you again.”
Angel took her hand. “We’re all scared,” she said softly, “but I think we can trust these people.” They had to. What choice had they?

  Jonathan came back with a small woman with bright blue eyes. Her name was Priscilla. Angel could see the resemblance between mother and daughter. Priscilla quickly took charge. “First thing we have to do is get you girls out of those wet clothes,” she said, taking them upstairs. “Then you’ll come down to the kitchen for a nice bite to eat with Jonathan and me.”

  She opened a door on the right side of the hallway showing a spacious room beyond. “You two younger ladies will share this bedroom,” she said. “And Angel can share Susanna’s. It’s just across the hall.”

  Angel wondered what Susanna would have to say about that.

  Priscilla produced dry clothes for all of them, surprising Angel further. Did she have wardrobes in all sizes, or did she have other daughters not yet seen? The dresses were plain, functional wool, and comfortable. Angel wadded up the dresses she, Cherry, and Faith had removed and put them in the bucket near the fireplace.

  Susanna was waiting to take them downstairs to the kitchen where Priscilla served them thick beef and vegetable soup and biscuits. Jonathan ate with them. Angel declined the hot coffee in favor of a glass of fresh milk. Faith was growing drowsy beside her. Kohl was smeared below Cherry’s eyes. She looked pale, but less frightened.

  Priscilla put her hands gently on Cherry’s shoulders and pressed her cheek to the girl’s soft one. “Come on, child, you’re ready for bed.” She held her hand out to Faith, and amazingly the little girl took it. Angel felt a great burden lifted.

  Susanna cleared the dishes. “Why don’t you two go into the parlor and be comfortable, Father? Just don’t discuss anything important until I join you.”

  “Yes, dear,” Jonathan said with mock submission. He winked at Angel as he got up. “We’d better do what we’re told.”

  Angel sat near the fire, nervous and worried. What was going to happen to all of them tomorrow? Jonathan went to a small table in the corner. She watched him pour a drink. He glanced back at her. “Would you like some cider?”

  “No, thank you.”

  He smiled slightly and put down the decanter. He took a comfortable seat opposite her. “You’re safe here.”

  “I know that. But for how long?” she said, surprising herself with her bluntness.

  “No one is going to put you out, Angel. You can stay with us as long as you like.”

  Her lips parted. Her eyes burned, and she bit her lip, but she couldn’t speak. He smiled. “You’re very welcome,” he said. She put her head back against the seat and tried to regain control of her emotions.

  “I wonder what he’ll do,” she said almost to herself.

  Jonathan didn’t have to ask who was on her mind. “If he was anywhere inside that building after we walked out, he’ll be hanging from a post by now. Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s that stupid.”

  “No, Duke is anything but stupid.” She sighed heavily. “You’re being very kind to us. Thank you.”

  “‘For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me drink; I was a stranger, and you invited me in, naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited me; I was in prison, and you came to me,’” he quoted. “Are you familiar with that?”

  Michael had read those words to her once, right after he had taken the Altmans in and she had asked him why. Her memories of him were so strong, she couldn’t speak.

  Jonathan Axle could see great suffering in the young woman’s eyes and wanted to ease it. She seemed utterly unaware of the magnitude of her actions, the courage it had taken. “You’re welcome to share what we have.” After all, none of it really belonged to him. He was only a steward of it.

  They talked far into the night. She told him more than she had ever told another human being, even Michael. Perhaps it was because Jonathan Axle was still a benevolent stranger that she felt so free to speak. Yet he did not seem a stranger at all.

  Angel leaned her head back, weary. “Where do I go from here, Mister Axle?”

  “That’s up to you.” Jonathan smiled. “And the Lord.”

  Priscilla awakened when Jonathan came into their bedroom. He undressed and slid beneath the bedcovers, drawing her close. Her body was warm and soft, and her hand rested on his chest.

  “I really must ask, Jonathan. What were you doing in a place like that?” He laughed softly and kissed her forehead. “I don’t really know, my love.” “But you don’t drink or gamble,” she said. “Whatever possessed you?” “It was a strange day, Priss. Something gnawed at me from noon on. I couldn’t put my finger on it.” “Everything’s fine at the bank?”

  “More than fine. I simply felt the need to walk. That’s why I sent word I would be late. I was passing by that place and heard that devil making a speech. The place was in such a ruckus, I went in to hear what he was saying.”

  “But why? You loathe him.”

  “I don’t know why. I just felt compelled. He was introducing Angel. It was obscene. It wasn’t his exact words. It was his manner, the insinuation. I can’t explain. I felt like I was standing in a pagan temple and he was the priest introducing a new temple prostitute.”

  “Why didn’t you leave?”

  “I thought of it, but every time I did, something told me to wait. Then Angel came out.”

  “She is very beautiful,” Priscilla said quietly.

  “It wasn’t her beauty that held me, my love. She was so young, and she walked to the center of that stage with such quiet dignity. You can’t even imagine it, Priss. Those men, they were like all the hounds of hell baying at her. And then she sang. She was so quiet at first, no one could hear her. Then the noise died down until the place was silent except for her.”

  He felt his throat constrict and tears burned. “She was singing ‘Rock of Ages.’”

  God moves in mysterious ways,

  His wonders to perform…

  WILLIAM COWPER

  Miriam watched Paul brood over his supper. He had hardly eaten a bite of his stew, and his mug of coffee was cold. She didn’t even need to ask what was wrong. “You’ve been to see Michael.”

  “Yes,” he said bleakly. He pushed his plate back, a frown darkening his face. “I don’t understand him anymore. I don’t understand him at all.”

  Miriam waited, hoping he would say more, that this time he would explain. He was angry and frustrated, but something more was preying at him, something deep and unseen, something crippling. A cancer of the soul.

  Paul spoke through gritted teeth. “When’s he going to give it up? It tears at my guts to see him on his knees over that woman.” He let out his breath sharply. “Miriam, I wanted to hit him.” He clenched his fist. “I wanted to shake him. He was praying when I got there. Down on his knees in the barn, praying for her.”

  She couldn’t understand his animosity. “But why shouldn’t he, Paul? She’s his wife, and he still loves her.”

  His face set in hard lines. “A wife? Can’t you see what she’s done to him?”

  “She told me she was leaving because she thought it best for him.”

  He scraped his chair back abruptly. “Do you believe that? You never knew her. Not really. She was cold as steel, Miriam. She was a prostitute from Pair-a-Dice. She never had any feelings for Michael other than feelings of convenience. Not in the beginning and not in the end. She hasn’t got a heart. Don’t be such a fool!”

  Miriam’s eyes welled at his attack. She had seen her father get angry many times, but he never lashed out against those who loved him. She couldn’t keep silent. “You’re the one who never knew her, Paul. You never even tried—”

  “Don’t defend her to me! I knew her,” he said harshly. “I knew her better than you or Michael. You both saw what she wanted you to see. I saw what she really was.”

  Miriam lifted her head. She wasn’t going to sit silent while he violated her friend. “You saw Amanda as some vile
creature that wasn’t even worthy of your slightest courtesy.”

  His face grew livid. “Are you reprimanding me for not falling under her spell like the rest of you? In my own house?”

  Miriam’s lips parted. He might as well have put a sword through her heart. “Then it’s only your home now, even though we’re married?” she said in a constricted voice. “I’m just a guest until you decide to cast me out. God help me if I do anything wrong, if I prove to be fallible.”

  Paul regretted his words before she even began speaking. “Miriam, I didn’t—”

  Her own anger was growing swiftly. “I suppose I’ve no right to my own thoughts or beliefs if they’re contrary to your own. Is that it, Paul?” She stood and pointed to the door. “If I want to speak my mind, I have to go outside to do it. Or better yet, be sure I’m on the other side of your boundary line?”

  Guilt killed his remorse. Her words struck at his conscience, and he lashed out again in defense. “You know that’s not what I meant!” When she started to cry, he wilted. “Miriam, don’t,” he groaned.

  “I don’t know what you mean anymore, Paul. You’re eaten up with bitterness. You carry your hatred like a banner, waving it all the time. You won’t say what it was Amanda did to you to make you hate her, so it makes me wonder if you weren’t a party to it!” Paul could feel the heat coming up into his face, his temper rising with it. He started to defend himself, but Miriam wasn’t finished. “I would never have come to you the way I did if not for Amanda.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  Her voice dropped. “I wouldn’t have had the courage.” She could see he didn’t understand, and she couldn’t explain. Her throat was closed tight with pain, and she just wanted to sit down and put her head in her hands. Even if she could tell him, he would never listen. He was deaf to anything that had to do with the goodness in Amanda.