Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

R E D E E M I N G L O V E
She was afraid to ask him what he meant. When she shivered, he put his
arm around her. “He hasn’t given us a heart of fear,” he said. “He’ll show me
the way when the time comes.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because he always has before.”
“I wish I could believe.” Crickets and frogs were making a cacophony
around them. How could she have ever thought there was silence out here?
“I can still hear Mama weeping sometimes,” she said. “At night, when the
tree branches scrape against the window, I can hear the tink of her bottle
against a glass and almost see her sitting on that rumpled bed, staring out at
nothing. I liked rainy days best.”
“Why?”
“Men didn’t come so often when the weather was bad. They’d stay away
where it was warm and dry and drink up all their money, like Rab.” She told
him how she collected tin cans in the alley and polished them, putting them
out to collect the drips from the leaky ceiling. “My own private symphony.”
A breeze came up. Michael brushed a wayward strand of hair from her
face and tucked it behind her ear. She was quiet, drained; he was pensive.
“Come on,” he said and stood. He pulled her up and held her hand as they
headed home. When they entered the cabin, he rummaged in the utensils
drawer. “I’ll be back in a while. There’s something I want to do in the barn.”
She set to work on dinner, needing to keep busy so she wouldn’t have to
think. Michael was driving nails into the cabin eaves. Was he tearing the
place down around her? She stepped to the door while drying her hands
and peered out. He was hanging metal scraps, utensils, nails, and a worn
horseshoe.
Stepping down a ladder rung, he ran his hand along the line of things.
“Your own private symphony,” he said and smiled at her. Speechless, she
watched him carry the ladder back to the barn.
She went back inside and sat down because she was too weak to stand.
She destroyed his dreams, and he made her wind chimes.
When he came in, she served him supper. I love you, Michael Hosea. I love
you so much I’m dying of it. The breeze stirred the wind chimes, filling the
cabin with pleasant ringing. She managed a frail thank-you. He didn’t seem
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