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Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

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R E D E E M I N G L O V E

Swearing, he’d gone back to turning the soil with his spade, and he hadn’t

been able to get rid of the fallow feeling in his heart since. Not even when

Michael had come back.

It was clear he hadn’t found any trace of Angel. He had pitied Michael

then. He wasn’t sorry Michael hadn’t found Angel. He was sorry Michael

was torn up about losing her. She wasn’t worth grieving over.

“She does love me, Paul. She does. You just don’t understand her.”

Paul left it alone. He didn’t want to know any more about Angel than he

already did. One day in her company had been enough to sour his soul for a

lifetime.

Michael stayed, and they talked about crops and the land, but it wasn’t

the same as it had been before Angel came into their lives. It didn’t matter

whether she was gone or not. She was still between them. “You’re making

progress,” Michael said before leaving. “That field looks good.”

“The work would go faster with a horse. Too bad I lost mine on the trail.”

“Take this one.” He took off the saddle while Paul stood dumbfounded. “As

soon as your crops are in you’ll have enough to buy another.” Ashamed, Paul

couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. Michael shouldered the saddle.

“You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you, Paul?” He headed for home.

A few days later, Paul took a side of venison to the Altmans and learned

Michael was on his way to Sacramento to bring Angel home. Joseph had sent

word she was working in a general mercantile. A likely story. He’d bet everything

she was selling herself to wintering miners. Six ounces of gold for fifteen

minutes. Maybe more than that to make up for the time lost on Michael.

“You don’t look very happy about the news,” Miriam said, watching him

closely.

“I’m sure Michael’s happy,” he said and went for his horse. “He’s a fool,”

he muttered under his breath.

Miriam followed him. “He loves her very much.”

“Is that what you call it?”

“What would you call it?”

He glanced back at Miriam as he slung the reins over the horse’s head,

but he didn’t answer.

“Why don’t you like Amanda?” Miriam asked.

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