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Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

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Seven

I am dying of thirst

by the side of the fountain.

C H A R L E S

D’O R L É A N S

Angel awakened slowly to the wonderful aroma of good cooking. She tried

to sit up, then gasped in pain. “Easy,” a man’s voice said, and a strong arm

slid beneath her shoulders, raising her gently. She felt something put behind

her to support her back and head. “The dizziness will pass.”

Her eyes were swollen almost shut, and she could barely make out a

man dressed in high boots, dungarees, and a red shirt. He was bending over

the fire and stirring in a big iron pot.

Morning light was streaming through a window in front of her. The light

hurt her eyes. She was in a cabin not much bigger than her room at the

Palace. The floor was wood plank; the fireplace, multicolored stone. Besides

the bed, she could make out the fuzzy shapes of a table, four laden shelves,

a willow chair, a chest of drawers, and a big black trunk with blankets

stacked on top of it.

The man came back and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do you feel

up to eating something, Mara?”

Mara.

She froze. Snatches of things came back.… Magowan’s beating, voices all

around her, someone asking her—

Her heart thudded in her chest. She felt her fingers—there was a ring on

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