Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

Twenty-two
Because a thing seems difficult for you,
do not think it impossible.
M A R C U S
A U R E L I U S
The jangle of pots and pans on the side of Sam Teal’s wagon reminded Angel
of the wind chimes Michael had hung for her. Closing her eyes, she could
see Michael’s face. Beloved. Oh, beloved. She couldn’t let herself think of him.
She had to forget. Better to think of what love had brought Mama and keep
her head straight.
The old peddler beside her hadn’t stopped talking since he picked her
up on the road at dawn. She was thankful for the barrage. He hadn’t sold
any of his stock on this trip to the mountains. His food supplies were low,
and his rheumatism was paining him something fierce. Best thing that had
happened to Sam Teal in the last month was seeing a pretty little thing like
her sitting on a stump by the road. Sam was clean and trimmed but worn
out and bent over. Most of his hair was gone. As were his prospects. But he
had kindly eyes beneath gray beetled brows. As long as she listened, she
didn’t have to think.
“Who you running from, missy?”
She pushed a loose strand of blonde hair back from her face and forced a
noncommittal smile. “What makes you think I’m running from someone?”
“The way you keep looking back over your shoulder. You looked mighty
worried back there when I found you. I figured you must be running away
from your husband.”
289