Redeeming-Love-By-Francine-Rivers

R E D E E M I N G L O V E
flames leapt higher, bright orange against the darkening evening sky.
Helpless, Angel watched the cafe collapse in an explosion of sparks and
flame. Virgil wept. Business had been going well. Though their menu was
limited, what they offered was excellent, and word had spread quickly.
Angel sat down on a barrel someone had rolled from a building. Men
had pulled everything they could drag or carry from their buildings. The
street was stacked with goods, furniture, sacks. Why hadn’t she thought to
do the same? She hadn’t even thought to run upstairs and pack her things.
She could have stuffed everything she had into her carpetbag and made it
out in time.
When the fire reached the end of the street, it stopped. The breeze died
down, and so did the excitement. Up and down the street people stood in
despair, looking at the blaze consuming what remained of their dreams.
Virgil sat on the ground, his head in his hands. Depression settled over
Angel like a cold, wet blanket. Now what was she going to do? She looked
around and saw that others were in the same situation she was. What would
Michael do if he were here? She knew he would never give in to despair, and
he would do something for these people. But what could she do? One
woman, destitute herself. One thing she knew she couldn’t do was stand by
and watch Virgil sobbing in the street.
She sat down beside him in the dirt. “As soon as the fire dies, we’ll dig
through what’s left and see if there’s anything that can be salvaged.”
“What’s the use? I ain’t got enough money to rebuild,” he sobbed.
She put her arm around his shoulders. “The land is worth something.
Maybe you can get a loan on it and start again with that.”
They slept against a pile of packs using borrowed blankets. At dawn,
they dug through the ash and rubble. Choking on soot, Angel found cast
iron pots and pans. The stove could still be used. The utensils were melted,
but many of the dishes were intact. A good scrubbing would make them
usable.
Face covered with ash, her throat raw from breathing it, Angel rested.
She was hungry and tired. Every muscle in her body ached, but at least
Virgil was feeling more hopeful, even though he had not yet found them a
place to stay. The hotels in the area were already full with paying customers
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