Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

F R A N C I N E R I V E R S
drawn attention where she shouldn’t have. She gave Angel a tentative smile.
“I don’t enjoy it much myself. Mama is the seamstress in our family.”
“I’d love to help you,” Elizabeth volunteered.
“You’ve enough to do already,” Angel said roughly.
Miriam brightened. “Oh, let Mama do it for you, Amanda. She loves to
sew, and she hasn’t had much to work with over the past year.” Not waiting
for an answer, she took the material from Angel and handed it over to her
mother.
Elizabeth laughed, looking delighted. “Do you mind, Amanda?”
“I suppose not,” Angel said. She gave a start of surprise when Ruthie
climbed up into her lap.
Miriam grinned. “She only bites her brothers.”
Angel touched the dark, silky hair and was enchanted. Little Ruth was
soft and cuddly, with pink cheeks and bright brown eyes. Angel felt her
heart grieve. What would her own child have looked like? She blotted out
the horrible memory of Duke and the doctor and savored Ruthie’s affection.
The child chattered like a little magpie, and Angel nodded and listened.
Glancing up, Angel encountered Michael’s gaze. He wants children, she
thought, and the thought hit her solid in the pit of her stomach. What if he
knew she couldn’t have them? Would his love for her die then? She couldn’t
hold his gaze.
“Papa, would you play the fiddle for us?” Miriam asked. “You haven’t
played in so long.”
“Papa, please,” Jacob and Leah begged.
“It’s packed away in the trunk,” he said, eyes shadowed. Angel expected
that to be the end of the discussion, but Miriam was dogged.
“No, it’s not. I unpacked it this morning.” John gave his daughter a dark
look, but she only smiled, knelt down beside him, and put her hand on his
knee. “Please, Papa.” Her voice was very gentle. “‘For everything there is a
season, and a time for every matter under heaven.’ Remember? ‘A time to
weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.’”
Elizabeth had stilled where she stood, her hands on the fabric spread out
over the supper table. When John looked at her, his eyes were dark with
pain. Her own were swimming in tears. “It has been a long time, John. I’m
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