Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

F R A N C I N E R I V E R S
to expect more. When he finished eating, she ladled hot water from the big
iron pot over the fire to wash dishes.
Michael took her wrist and turned her toward him. “Leave the dishes.”
When he began to loosen her hair, she could scarcely breathe.
She was trembling and embarrassed. Where was her calm, her control?
He was shattering it with tenderness.
Combing his fingers into her hair, he tilted her head back. He saw the
fear in her eyes. “I promise to love and cherish you, to honor and sustain
you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, in the bad that may
darken our days, in the good that may light our way. Tirzah, beloved, I
promise to be true to you in all things until I die. And even beyond that,
God willing.”
She stood staring at him, shaken to the core. “And what have I to
promise you?”
His eyes lit with gentle humor. “To obey?” He lowered his mouth to hers.
When he kissed her, Angel was lost in a wilderness of new sensations. It
had never felt like this, warm and wonderful, exciting and right. None of the
old rules applied. She forgot everything she had ever learned from other
masters. She was dry ground soaking in a spring rain, a flower bud opening
to the sun. Michael knew and gently coaxed her with tender words flowing
over her like the sweet balm of Gilead healing her wounds.
And she flew, Michael with her, into the heavens.
Earthbound once more, Michael smiled. “You’re crying.”
“I am?” She touched her cheek and found a single tear.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, kissing her. “It’s a good sign.”
But when Michael awakened in the morning, Angel was gone.
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