“Jeremiah! Get up and light a lamp! Now!” He placed her gently on his bunk while Jeremiah bolted to his feet.
“Aaron, you scared me half out of my wits! What are you doing?”
“Hurry! Light a lamp.”
Jeremiah quickly shook off his sleepiness at his brother’s urgent request and did his bidding. The lamp lit, he looked toward Aaron who was bent over his bunk and when he saw the bruised and bloody figure of a woman lying weeping and wrenching in pain on top of the brown bed covering, he gasped.
“Amelia?” Jeremiah exclaimed as he grabbed Aaron’s shoulders. “How did this happen? Where did you find her?”
“I couldn’t sleep and was over at the cookhouse doing some paperwork when I heard something outside. I went out to see what it was and she came right up into camp.”
Aaron could hardly believe what he saw. Amelia’s skin was red from exposure to the cold, and she had obviously been beaten by someone with superior strength, her delicate body cut, bloody and bruised all over. She lie on her side, doubled over, holding her stomach, shaking profusely, silently weeping, and having difficulty catching her breath.
Jeremiah, understanding the purport of what she must have been through, knelt beside the bunk and touched the battered face of the sweet lady whom Aaron knew his brother cared for deeply. She winced at his touch. A pained look covered Jeremiah’s face.
“Aaron, they’re probably out looking for her. Go outside and shoot off three rounds. If Strupel’s out there, he’ll know she’s been found.” The signal had been used many times before when children or strangers to the area had strayed too far into the woods and had lost their way in the untamed mountains. He knew they would be looking for the signal now.
Aaron did his brother’s bidding and shortly afterward, he heard three more shots being fired from somewhere down the mountain in response to his own shots. Jeremiah was right; the message was being passed along.
Loggers emerged from their shanties to see what the commotion was. Aaron explained the situation briefly and sent them back to their bunks.
Upon returning to his own dwelling, he found his brother nursing Amelia’s cuts and scrapes with a moistened handkerchief. It looked like she had passed out.
› › ›
Every ounce of her being throbbed from the beating, exhaustion, and emotional duress, and Amelia couldn’t think straight. Where was she? Was she safe? Where was the awful man? Why had he hurt her this way? She was going to be sick. Oh, no, footsteps! Was it him? She shouldn’t have stopped. She should have kept running. Why had she stopped? Her side hurt so badly. Please, somebody help me! She had to keep quiet; he was very close to her.
Someone dabbed her wounds with a cloth, a cool cloth. It felt good on her feverish bruises. Then the cloth dabbed a place where the man had hit her and it sent a pain through her as if for the first time. She recoiled and begged, “Please, don’t hit me anymore.”
“Amelia, it’s me, Jeremiah.” He withdrew the cloth. “I’m not going to hurt you. I could never hurt you. Do you hear me, Amelia?”
“Jeremiah?” She recognized the voice, but then the cloud came over her again and the terrible man in the woods was back. She felt the cloth on the nape of her neck, the moist coolness turned into the filthy, vile man’s mouth. He was kissing her there. She tried to fight him, but her strength was gone and her arms wouldn’t work.
“Oh, please, stop. No! Lord, please save me! Only You can save me!”
› › ›
Paul had rushed the horse as fast as possible without hurting the animal toward the sound of the guns being shot off. They led him toward the lumber camp. Had the Cowans found her? Then out from the covering of the forest he rode into the camp. He dismounted even before the animal had a chance to come to a complete stop.
His heart still pounding in a frenzy, he ran up to where several of the men who had been looking for Amelia had gathered outside the Cowan’s small office, which also served as their sleeping quarters. They were evidently forming a search party to hunt for someone.
“Where is she?” he demanded, more than asked.
“In our office.” Before Aaron could say anything more, Paul headed toward the small shanty.
As he threw open the door and stepped inside, his heart fractured, unprepared for what he saw. He rushed to where Amelia lie, knelt beside the cot, and gently took her hand in his, shaking almost as much as she was. He looked at her incredulously for a moment.
“What kind of evil monster could be capable of doing something like this?”
Jeremiah just shook his head. “I still can’t believe it happened.” He dabbed another wound just below her collarbone.
Amelia moaned and wrenched and called out despairingly, “Please, stop. No more. I can’t take any more. Jeremiah, why won’t you make him stop?”
He withdrew the cloth again. “She came running into camp about twenty minutes ago,” he quietly said to Paul. “Aaron found her. At first she recognized him, but then slumped into this state. She’s been like this ever since. She recognized me once, but I guess she’s confused and thinks I’m him.”
Paul brushed her hair with one hand and continued to hold hers with the other. He bent close to her, gently and calmly calling to her, “Amelia, Angel. It’s me, Paul. I’m here. You’re safe at the logging camp. The bad man is gone now.”
She flung her hand, wildly trying to keep him from touching her. “No. Don’t touch me. Please, stop.” She sobbed.
Paul held her hand in both of his and he kissed it and began to pray aloud. “Dear Lord, help her to get her bearings back. Help her to somehow get past this and come back to me. Only you know how to heal her wounded spirit and emotions and make her whole again. Help Amelia to understand that she’s safe now. Please, remove this cloud that seems to have covered her. Let your love cover her now. I give Amelia into your hands---”
“Paul?” Her sobbing stopped and she looked him in the eye.
“Yes, Angel. I’m here. You’re safe now.” He stroked her hair again.
“I knew you would find me.” Her tense body began to relax and a slight smile tried to light her swollen face.
He kissed her temple, and she didn’t protest. The cloud of confusion lifted from her and she’d recognized him.
“God saved me from the evil one, Paul. I prayed for the Lord to rescue me, and He provided a way for me to escape with my virtues still intact.”
Paul closed his eyes and bit his lip, grateful beyond words to his heavenly Father for having spared her from that particular scourge.
“Then God hid me from the man. He stumbled right by me when I was crouched under a tree. I felt an urging within me to go, so I started to run. I knew God was fighting a tremendous battle for me tonight, Paul. I felt Him pulling me, showing me which way to turn. And he led me right up to this camp.”
“Thank you, Jesus, for this miracle of her safe return.” Paul kissed her hand as a tear trickled from the corner of his eye.
“Paul?” she asked as if questioning whether he was actually there.
“I’m here, my Angel.”
“Please, don’t let yourself become angry at this man. The roots of bitterness go down deep. You must forgive him. He is living his life totally unaware of his need for Jesus. He’s just a poor, lost sinner, like you and I were before we asked Jesus to forgive us and come into our hearts. Put your anger into God’s hands, and He will see that justice is served. He will either show mercy on this man or show his vengeance. But pray for him---that he will see God’s mercy.”
“Harrumph!” Jeremiah said and stormed out of the shanty.
Paul watched him leave, but he stayed with Amelia, attending to her cuts. She was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted and finally relented to sleep.
Paul decided to find Jeremiah. He had looked distraught when he left. He asked Aaron to stay with Amelia and set out to look for his friend. He didn’t have to go far, finding him sitting alone on top of a table in the cook
house. Paul sat on a deacon’s bench across from him.
“She’s asleep. I think she’s going to be all right, thank the Lord.”
“You don’t really believe what she said about God helping her out tonight, do you?”
“Yes. I believe every word of it with all my heart.”
“But God allowed your Angel to be beaten and almost raped! I can’t even begin to imagine what she went through out there!” Jeremiah looked out a window toward the blackened forest and shuddered. “Where was your God when that was happening?”
“That’s a very valid question, my friend.” The intensity of Jeremiah’s words weighed heavily on Paul’s heart. “But you have to remember that I also believe in the Devil. Amelia and I were just reading about that in the Bible a couple days ago. The Bible says to be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour. He knows his time is limited, and he’s going to take as many people with him as he can.”
“That’s understandable, but if you truly believe that God heard her prayers then why didn’t he answer them sooner? Why didn’t he avoid this? How could he just stand there and let that kind of atrocity happen to someone like her?”
“Jeremiah, God was hurting too when he saw what was happening. But he gave us all a will to choose our own direction in life, and that includes this horrible man. And as soon as she prayed, God was free to send his angels to help her, to fight her battle for her and they won! Don’t you see that? You know as well as I do that there would have been no possible way for a blind woman to escape this kind of attack unless she had help. This is the kind of saving power God is capable of.”
“And I suppose you’re just going to forgive this ‘evil monster’, to quote your own words?”
“I have to. Otherwise I’d be no different from him.”
“Good god, man!” Jeremiah jumped off the table and strode up to Pau. “Are you made of steel? Don’t you feel anything? Doesn’t it bother you at all what someone did to her? Don’t you realize the terror she had to go through before God finally rescued her?” Jeremiah scowled at him. “She has every right to rise up and curse him, to hunt him down and shoot him and make him suffer for what he did to her. Yet she showed such compassion under this kind of duress. It doesn’t make sense, and it’s not right. I know you’re sincere in your beliefs, but I think you’ve been hoodwinked into believing something totally outrageous.”
Jeremiah turned and headed toward the door. “I’m going to go find an empty bunk. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Paul knew Jeremiah was too angry to see the truth. He glanced at the papers strewn across the table. They had to be Aaron’s. He’s the Cowan brother with the talent for figures. He slumped over, covered his face with his hands, and let the tears wash over him. His angel was safe. He knew God had saved her. He had to hold on to this belief.
Jeremiah stopped at the door and turned. He came back inside, sat beside Paul and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. That was cruel.”
The two sat in silent anguish for some time. They didn’t need words. Each knew the other’s pain, and just being together was enough support to sustain them through their personal battles being waged deep within themselves.
One emerged from the inner war victoriously and at peace, ready to continue life with a clear conscience and direction.
The other found no comfort, only the confusion and pain of an uncertain future that he was trying desperately to understand.
› › ›
Corrin arrived at the lumber camp with Doc Glover sometime during the early hours of the morning. After Doc had finished with his examination and did all he could to make sure Amelia’s wounds were cleaned properly, he declared that he was no longer needed and that she would be fine. She only needed lots of rest over the next couple weeks to heal from the assault and her run through the forest.
Corrin assumed full responsibility for her niece’s care. After all, she felt it was her fault this had happened to her niece. She should have been more careful with this priceless treasure she had been given. And now because of her inadequacy as a parent she had almost lost her. How could God have allowed this kind of atrocity to happen to Amelia?
Corrin hated seeing her like this, cut and bruised. No, she simply couldn’t be trusted to properly care for her niece any longer. A saloon just isn’t the kind of place for such a person as her delicate niece. How could she have even thought she could protect her in a place like that? Who did she know who could take Amelia in and care for her and protect her? But how could she give her up? Corrin loved Amelia and Amelia loved her. The girl had become her joy. They were family. How could anyone else give her the same kind of love that she had?
But here Amelia laid battered, proof of Corrin Dannon’s incapability. She knew what she had to do and it would be the hardest thing she had ever done. She would find a family first, and then tell Amelia. No sense in upsetting the dear girl so soon after her ordeal.
› › ›
Amelia awoke in an unfamiliar bed. Where was she? Had this all really happened? The achiness of her body quickly affirmed that it had, but many of the events from the previous evening were obscured in her memory.
Someone was whispering in a far corner of the room, and she strained to hear what was being said to discern where she was and who was there with her.
“...found him at the bottom of the ravine.” She recognized Aaron’s voice. “Apparently he couldn’t see where he was going in the dark and fell right off the cliff.”
“Nobody knows who he is?” Corrin asked.
“Nope. Never saw him around here before. . .” This voice was barely audible.
“He must be a stranger . . . No man in these parts would ever treat a lady of reputation like that. It’s just never happened before.” This sounded like Jeremiah.
“It’s got to be him. He had several deep scratches down his face and neck. . .”
Scratches down his face and neck? They must be talking about the awful man who attacked her. Where was he now? Was he in custody? Amelia had to know and started to rise, but her body ached and wouldn’t respond. She moaned and fell back on the cot and immediately heard the scrambling of feet and her aunt’s loving touch upon her head.
“Sweetie, don’t try to get up. Just lay still.”
“The man with the scratches, Aunt Corrin. Where is he?”
“Don’t concern yourself with that right now, Angel. You need to lay still.” She felt Paul’s hand stroking hers.
“Paul. It’s him! I scratched him and it made him angry and he hit me over and over---”
“Shh. It’s all right, Angel. That man is dead. He fell over a cliff sometime last night. He won’t be able to bother you ever again. Just lie still and rest now.”
Dead! Then God must have shown no mercy toward him. Her wounded heart and mind became receptacles of battered emotions, and she began to cry, the people she loved so dearly tried earnestly to calm her.
› › ›
For days Amelia’s body remained swelled, her joints ached, and she didn’t possess the strength to lift her hand when Paul came to visit her. The long run had left her limbs stiff and aching and unwilling to move. She resigned herself to sleep much of the day, and only took small amounts of soup during periods of alertness.
After a week she felt better and her legs were able to carry her a measurable distance, even though they still complained with each step she took. Amelia longed to be outdoors, breathing in the crisp October air, so Corrin helped her to the cook house where Biscuit was delighted to oblige the ladies with some tea he had stashed away for special visitors. He talked with them while he and his two cook’s helpers, called flunkies, fixed lunch for the men. He said he was working to create a tantalizing sensation that would make their taste buds stop and say ‘thank ya kindly’.
Amelia was glad for his lighthearted humor. She let the gaiety wash over and soothe her aching body and spirit. Everyone had
been so somber and doting toward her this past week, and she disliked being the cause of their dismay.
She was regaining her strength, and when Corrin announced that she could make the trip back down the mountain the next day to continue her recuperation in Glory Gulch, she was elated.
Paul had been unable to visit her as often in the camp as he would have if she were back home at the saloon, and she missed him terribly. Excitement washed over her at the thought of once again visiting with him on the porch in the mornings and kissing him at her door in the evenings.
Then her Aunt regretfully informed her that she wasn’t going back to the saloon. She had found a good home for Amelia with a family from the church.
“But Aunt Corrin! Why? Have I been that much of a burden to you?”
“Oh, Sweetie. Absolutely not! It’s just that I now realize that a saloon is not a proper place for someone like you to live in. It’s just too dangerous.”
“What do you mean someone like me? It’s my blindness, isn’t it?” Amelia cried.
“Of course not, Honey. What I meant was that you’re so young and pretty, too much of a temptation for some of the kinds of men who pass through the saloon. You need a safer place to live.”
“Safer? Aunt Corrin, you’re all the family I have and I thought we needed each other.”
“Oh, Honey. I still need you. I’m just afraid I can’t protect you any longer. That night when I went to check on you and you were gone, I thought I would die. I was heartsick with worry. I don’t think I could bear it if something like this were to ever happen to you again.”
“But Aunt Corrin, if you would just forgive that awful man, you would find freedom from your fear and guilt.”
“I know you think it’s just that simple, Sweetie. But some things that happen are more terrible and less forgivable than others. I just don’t understand how you can be so casual about the whole ordeal. The Marcus’ will be able to provide you a real home. They’re older so they will be around all the time to look after you.”
Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch) Page 13
