Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

R E D E E M I N G L O V E
he could afford to buy a cow. He walked her along the pathway to the small
barn and showed her the two draft horses. He pointed out the fields he had
plowed and planted, and then he took her out into the open meadowland.
“I started out west with eight oxen and ended up with the two you see out
there.”
“What happened to the rest?”
“Indians stole one, and five died in harness. It was hard going,” he said.
“Animals weren’t the only ones dying along the Humboldt Sink.” Michael
looked down at her and saw how pale she was. She wiped perspiration from
her forehead with the back of her hand. He asked if she wanted to head
back. She said no. He headed back anyway. She was played out and too
stubborn to admit it.
Lord, is she going to be this bullheaded about everything?
On the way back to the cabin, Michael showed her where he wanted to
put a grape arbor. “We’ll sit beneath it on hot days. There’s nothing smells
better than grapes ripening in the sun. We’ll add a bedroom and kitchen and
put a porch on the west side, so we can sit in the evenings and watch the
sun set and the stars come out. On hot summer afternoons, we’ll sip apple
cider and watch our corn grow. And children, someday, God willing.”
Her stomach dropped. “You’ve enough work planned out to last a long
while.”
Michael tipped her chin and looked straight into her eyes. “It’ll take us a
lifetime, Mara.”
She jerked her chin away. “Don’t go pinning your hopes on me, mister. I
have my own plans, and they don’t include you.” She went the rest of the
way by herself.
The walk had been good for her, but she was exhausted. Still, she didn’t
want to be inside. She dragged his chair out the door so she could sit in the
open. She wanted to feel the warmth of the sun on her face. She wanted to
smell the fresh air. A soft afternoon breeze played with her hair, and she
could smell the earth, strong and rich. Her muscles loosened, and she closed
her eyes.
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