Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch)

by Jeanne Marie Leach

  Amelia finally resigned herself to her Aunt’s wishes and leaned her head against Corrin’s shoulder. “Will you visit me?”

  “Sweetie, you can be sure I’ll visit you as often as I can. We’ll never be far apart.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Amelia had difficulty negotiating the Marcus’s cluttered house. Their children had long ago left the comforts of their childhood home and the couple seemed bent on saving every piece of furniture and bric-a-brac they had collected down through their many decades together. Amelia constantly bumped into things or tripped over piles of unidentified objects laying in the most conspicuous places.

  Shortly after her arrival, Amelia became acutely aware that these two were staunch Christians, unwavering in their faith and convictions. Initially she thought this would be quite pleasurable, but soon came to realize that their religion was unlike anything she had ever encountered.

  They adhered to strict rules about everything and insisted that she also abide by them. As they recounted their decrees to her, she was shocked and heartbroken. To Amelia, whose heart was tender toward God, these were absurd.

  First they took away all her pretty gowns her mother had made and put her in dark, itchy woolen clothing. They said the clothes she had been wearing were the devil’s own designs. They thought it no wonder that she had been attacked the way she had. If she had only been dressed as a proper Christian, the terrible incident would have been avoided, they explained.

  Amelia was not to go further than the front porch without a proper escort with her, which she discovered was not too many places. Church was about the only place they felt was safe from the temptations of the devil, and a proper escort could only be female.

  She would not be allowed to go to the saloon. This simply was not a question for debating. Her aunt may visit her there at their home, but only on the porch. To allow such a heathen into their home would be an abomination to the Lord.

  She could play their piano, but only sacred hymns.

  As insane and ridiculous as these rules sounded, the most unfair to Amelia was that it wasn’t proper for a lady of her tender, young age to be courted by a gentleman who was so much older than she. They actually forbid her to see Paul! This infuriated her, and she argued with the Marcus’s vehemently, reminding them that he was a Christian also, which broke another rule---never doubt the wisdom of one’s elders. When she persisted, they sent her to her room without supper and locked the door ‘until she prayed through and saw the light’.

  As Amelia reclined on her bed and contemplated her present situation, she became indignant. How could Christians stand in judgment of others so blatantly? The first time either Paul or Corrin would come by for a visit, she was certain they would not tolerate these foolish rules. They would do something about this injustice.

  She tried to pray about her situation, but anger and frustration kept her from a meaningful conversation with God. Amelia wanted desperately to understand why God would allow her to be there, and she fell asleep angry and fearful.

  Sometime in the deep recesses of the night, Amelia dreamed. The foul, whisky breathed man was chasing her through the forest. The trees were whipping her body and were taunting her as she ran on and on and on. The man’s footsteps were directly behind hers. They were so loud she put her hands up to her ears to shut out their pounding. She called out for help, but no one would come to her rescue.

  She felt a hand on her arm. Was it Aaron Cowan? No! It was the terrible man! He had caught her! She fought him, but he was stronger than she. He laughed and teased her. “You’ll enjoy yourself, Amelia.”

  She heard others laughing in the background. Who were they? Why didn’t they help her? His dirty, repulsive mouth was on her. She screamed, but nothing would come out of her mouth . . .

  Amelia awoke and shot straight up in her bed. Out of breath, heart pounding, and feeling terrorized all over again. Despite the coolness of the room, her bedclothes and linens were soaked from perspiration.

  She was afraid to lie back down and quoted Scriptures to herself in an attempt to console her troubled spirit. The words of King David in Psalm 27 came flowing out of her mouth.

  ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell. Though a host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear: though war should rise against me, in this I will be confident.” The words of King David in Psalm 27 came flowing out of her mouth.

  Amelia then sat in silence, amazed that someone else had once experience the same dreaded fears that she had. The realization that she had not dealt with her attack brought her to her knees, and she began to talk things over with God. She was confused about the dream, her bruised emotions, why she was with the Marcus’s. Nothing seemed to fit in the plan she thought God had for her life. She threw up her hands in surrender.

  “Lord, help me to understand,” she cried.

  It’s only temporary. Rest in me, my child.

  Amelia recognized that still, small voice. She possessed a heart that was tender toward God and a discerning spirit. But the words only comforted her a little. Only temporary. Good. She wasn’t sure what the voice meant by rest and tucked this away in her memory to pray about in the morning. For now, she was exhausted and decided to try to sleep again, but sleep wouldn’t come.

  The next day Amelia was so haggard she didn’t have the energy to fight with the Marcus’s. She was happy to remain in the confines of her little room without their lock and key. Her spirit wounded, her feeble attempts to pray were of no avail. She took a nap in the early afternoon.

  › › ›

  Paul stopped by the Marcus home that afternoon. They told him she wasn’t feeling well enough to receive visitors and sent her regrets. He felt downhearted that he hadn’t been able to make it up to the camp to see her before she left there, and now he was being put off further because she wasn’t feeling well. He asked them to tell her that he would pray for her to feel better quickly and that he would come back to see her soon.

  › › ›

  Corrin called for her niece the following day and was told Amelia wasn’t feeling well enough to have visitors. She went away, missing her sweetie something awful.

  › › ›

  That evening Paul returned. Again, they told him she was still not ready to receive visitors. Once more he felt dejected and left without seeing his Angel.

  › › ›

  The next day around mid-morning, Amelia was summoned by Mrs. Marcus to come to the parlor. Amelia went downstairs.

  “Amelia, we want to introduce you to one of our old, family friends Jason Warren. Jason, this is the young lady we told you about who has suffered terribly at the hands of an attacker.”

  Amelia held her hand out to the gentleman she pictured to be as ancient as the Marcus’s. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Warren.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

  She pulled it away quickly and smoothed her dress. The man’s voice didn’t crack with age, but sounded like it belonged to a much younger fellow than she’d surmised.

  “Come, Amelia,” Mr. Marcus said. “You sit here on the couch, and Jason can sit there beside you. Mother, would you bring us those cookies you baked?”

  “Right away,” Mrs. Marcus said.

  Amelia had never heard the old couple talk so sweetly before, which raised an alarm inside her.

  Mrs. Marcus returned quickly, as if she’d had the refreshments already prepared and waiting for her in the kitchen.

  The conversation ranged from topic to topic, hardly able to hold Amelia’s attention, for her thoughts were on Paul. Why hadn’t he come by to see her yet? Her heart ached to be with him.

  The gentleman caller had asked her a question.

  “I’m sorry, what did you just ask me?”

  “I said I l
ike your accent. What state do you come from? Virginia?”

  “Georgia. I was born and raised there.” Throughout the morning, Amelia became acutely aware that Mr. Warren and she were the only ones who were involved in the conversation. Finally the thought occurred to her that he wasn’t just visiting; he was courting her. Upon this revelation, she jumped to her feet.

  “Mr. Warren, I hope you will excuse me, but I have a headache, and I wish to retire to my room. It was a pleasure meeting you.” She turned abruptly and took her leave, stumbling over something as she felt her way to the stairway.

  A few minutes later, she heard the front door close soundly and she recognized Mr. Marcus’s footsteps coming toward her room.

  He was furious with her and locked her in her room for two days to ‘pray and repent for lying to Mr. Warren and for God to show her the evil of her ways’.

  The only time Amelia was given the privilege of their company was when they brought her a tray of food at mealtimes and to empty her chamber pot.

  Amelia was dumfounded. She would rather live with heathens than with these people and their religion gone sour. They had no room in their hearts for the true, living, loving, caring God she knew personally and loved above all else. They loved their religion more than the One who gave his own life for them. She had never known anyone who had become caught up in religious rules in this way.

  Finally, she sought the Lord in earnest, this time opening her heart to God in truth, in contrast to her feeble attempts to commune with him the previous few days. She soon discovered that even though she had been preaching forgiveness to everyone else, she had not forgiven the stranger for assaulting her. She had allowed fear and anger to consume her and realized that she had never taken the time to give these things over to the Lord.

  Amelia poured her whole heart out to her Savior, recounting every hurt, fear and unforgiveness that he brought to her mind. She asked for his forgiveness and cleansing power to heal her battered mind and soul and her wounded spirit.

  Amelia prayed almost unceasingly for those two days, only stopping to eat, and even then her heart was turned toward God. And he began to strengthen her physically, for it had been only nine days since the attack. He also strengthened her emotionally, mentally and spiritually, filling her with such a joy and love that she could hardly contain herself.

  An understanding dawned on her as to why God had allowed her aunt to send her there. Nowhere else could she have found such solitude and respite that would allow God to heal her to completeness. She began to praise Him; sometimes by quietly singing, sometimes with her hands lifted while on her knees, and often just pacing the floor of her cluttered room.

  Then on the second afternoon of her punishment, peace flooded Amelia like none she had ever known as she let go of all unwanted bitterness. God was performing his perfect work in her heart, and she allowed his presence to permeate every ounce of her being.

  Sometime during the late morning hours of the next day, as she was listening to God’s heart, Amelia heard a faint knock at the front door. Mrs. Marcus answered it and Amelia strained to listen. She could barely distinguish the two voices. It was definitely a gentleman caller. Mr. Warren?

  No, it was Paul! She heard Mrs. Marcus mumble something. And then Paul was gone. She wondered how many other times he had come for her and had been refused access to her. Her heart yearned for him, and her eyes stung with the salty tears that flowed down her cheeks. Then perhaps her aunt had also come by that week. They hadn’t abandoned her after all!

  She began her prayers again, this time praying for those she loved and the one she thought she may be in love with.

  It’s only temporary. Rest in me.

  And Amelia took comfort in the fact that she would see them again soon.

  › › ›

  “I think you’re just being paranoid, Paul.” Corrin didn’t like his accusations that something wasn’t right at the Marcus house. “The Preacher recommended them to me as the perfect couple for Amelia to live with. They’re well respected in the church.”

  “I know that. I’ve known them for some time now. They seem like wonderful people. But I’ve tried to see Amelia at different times of the day and each time they have an excuse as to why I can’t see her. I haven’t seen her at all this week, Corrin. Have you?”

  “No. They told me she wasn’t feeling well.”

  “There, you see! They gave me the same excuse. Even when Amelia was lying in bed from the beating, she was trying to get up and around. What sickness would hold her down this long?”

  Corrin contemplated this for a moment.

  “Maybe, it’s time I go back for another visit. Come back after work and I’ll have a report for you.”

  Paul nodded and left the saloon.

  Corrin would get to the bottom of this, whether the Marcus’s wanted her to or not.

  That afternoon, she walked confidently up the sidewalk and knocked firmly on the Marcus’s door. Mr. Marcus answered and told her that Amelia was not receiving visitors.

  “Mr. Marcus, what exactly is wrong with my niece?”

  He glared at the saloon keeper who glared right back at him. The silence nearly drove Corrin crazy.

  “Well? She’s all the family I have. If something is wrong with her I have the right to know. And if you don’t allow me to see her right now I will go to the Preacher and tell him that you are refusing to allow me to see my own niece.”

  Mr. Marcus studied her intently and finally must have realized that she could cause trouble for them. “Wait here. I’ll get your niece for you.” He closed the door, leaving her standing on the stoop.

  › › ›

  Mrs. Marcus unlocked the door to Amelia’s room and quietly entered. Nothing prepared her for what she saw. Amelia was kneeling at the side of her bed; hands stretched upward and outward, head tilted toward the ceiling. She was singing praises to God in a soft, angelic tone, and although an abundance of daylight filtered through the ample window, her face shined as though an extra lamp was being held up to her. And her face was soft and smooth and pure as the first fallen snow. All bruises and cuts from the attack were gone without a trace.

  The room itself was filled with a presence of peace and joy and love such as the elderly woman had never encountered before. It unnerved her, and she wasn’t sure if she should interrupt the young lady’s worship. But realizing they couldn’t put off Miss Dannon any longer, she finally spoke.

  “Amelia, dear. Your aunt is waiting to see you on the porch.”

  Amelia stopped singing and smiled at the elderly woman. “Thank you.”

  “Here, it’s cold outside. Wrap this shawl around your shoulders.”

  Surprised by her sudden interest in her well-being, Amelia took the shawl, grabbed her cane and headed downstairs. Within a minute, she emerged from the house with Mr. Marcus directly on her heels.

  Corrin grabbed her and hugged her generously. Then she held her niece at arm’s length, apparently to look at her. She gasped. “Sweetie, you’re face . . . The bruises are completely gone!”

  Amelia ran her fingers down the sides of her cheeks. Then she pulled back one sleeve and felt her arm for the scabs that had formed, and they were also gone. She directed her face toward Corrin and smiled.

  “I guess while God was healing my wounded spirit, he thought he might as well take care of my skin too.”

  Corrin simply hugged her again.

  “I love you and missed you so much, Aunt Corrin!”

  “I’ve missed you too, honey. And Paul misses you,” she said with a defiant voice, probably so Mr. Marcus would hear. “He’s come by several times to see you and you weren’t feeling well. But I can see now that you are doing just fine.”

  Amelia, aware of Mr. Marcus’ presence, knew she had to choose her words carefully, knowing that Paul had indeed called on her, but that the Marcus’ had intentionally withheld this information from her.

  “Please, tell him I’m sorry I missed seeing him.” That
was all she could think of. If she divulged anything else, she may not feel sunshine on her face for a week. And she certainly didn’t want to embarrass the elderly gentleman. That wouldn’t be very Christian of her.

  “I will, Honey. I will.” Corrin led her niece to a swing on the porch. She held her hand and began to chatter in typical Corrin style. “I almost forgot. Saturday night, we’re throwing a big birthday party for Paul over at the Saloon. His birthday is actually next Tuesday. But he wants to be sure the loggers and millers can make it, so we’re holding it on Saturday. He’s turning forty, too. There’ll be a potluck dinner and music and dancing. You will be there won’t you, Sweetie?”

  Amelia choked down a big gulp. She knew the Marcus’s would never allow her attend such a function at such a place to honor such a man. Three marks against her. But with the gentleman right there, she was uncertain how to answer, and finally broke the tenseness with a question.

  “Mr. Marcus, what do you think? Shall I attend this gala affair?”

  “What’s wrong, Amelia? I can’t believe you’d hesitate at an opportunity to see Paul---especially his birthday party.”

  “Miss Dannon,” Mr. Marcus said slowly and purposefully. “When you came to me to take in your niece, it was out of concern for her safety and well-being. You didn’t think a saloon was a safe and proper place for her to be. I don’t think it would be wise for her to attend this party. She’s young and this may confuse her as to what’s right and what’s wrong.”

  Amelia squeezed her aunt’s hand as a silent message she hoped she’d understand---that she was basically being held prisoner there.

  “Mr. Marcus,” Corrin replied in her normal tone, evidently unaware of the situation yet. “This is a friendly gathering of dear friends and acquaintances. It’s closed to those not invited. There will be no strangers there. Amelia will be perfectly safe with us. I think she should come. In fact,” Corrin directed this last statement to her niece. “I’ll come for you myself, sweetie, around six-thirty.”