Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

R E D E E M I N G L O V E
it before she broke Michael’s heart into little pieces.
They set the last plank into place. The inside walls were up. Michael said
he could manage the roof on his own. He put his hand on Paul’s shoulder
and thanked him for the help, but the tension was heavy between them.
“You’d better head for Pair-a-Dice tomorrow. Tell Joseph I’ll settle up with
him in a few weeks. He’ll see you get everything you need.”
“Thanks.” Pair-a-Dice. Maybe he could find out a little more about Angel
and her weaknesses when he got there. The Duchess would want her best
girl back, and she could always send that big hulking giant who guarded her
like she was the crown jewels to get her.
When Michael came in at dusk, Angel didn’t ask what Paul had to say. She
put supper on the table and sat down with him, back straight, head up. He
still hadn’t said anything. He was probably thinking everything over, examining
and weighing. So let him.
The heaviness was back inside her, and she pretended it didn’t matter. He
didn’t matter. When Michael looked at her, she tilted her chin and looked
straight back. Go ahead and say what’s on your mind, mister. I don’t care.
Michael put his hand over hers.
Pain gripped her heart, and she yanked her hand from beneath his. She
couldn’t look at him. Taking her napkin from the table, she shook it gently
before meticulously placing it on her lap. When she raised her head again,
he was looking at her. His eyes, oh, his eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. I told you before, I don’t care what he thinks
of me, and he can say anything he wants. It’s all the truth. You knew it. And
it doesn’t matter. He’s not the first man who’s looked down his nose at me,
and he won’t be the last.” She remembered Mama walking down the street,
and the men who had come to the shack walking right on by like they
didn’t know her at all.
“I might believe you if you weren’t so angry.”
Angel raised her chin. “I’m not angry. Why should I be angry?” She had
no appetite, but she forced herself to eat anyway, just so he couldn’t make
something of it. She cleared the dishes. Michael put another log on the fire.
180