Hosea's Bride

Relieved at the excuse to leave his company, she trotted off to join her friends.

Angela stared at the computer screen. She’d been so eager to check the information on Hosea “Slider” Stevens, she hadn’t even changed out of her picnic clothes, and she’d found nothing questionable. She checked her files, her sources of information again. There was nothing. No illness, injury or family problems. No breath of scandal or unexplained absences for any block of time. All she could find confirmed Hosea’s statement. He had simply walked away from the millions of dollars offered him to play professional ball. And that included a signing bonus in a previously unheard of amount for a rookie.

She shook her head and scanned the copy of the newspaper reports again. There was nothing else to check. Nowhere else to go for information. What he had said was true. But, how could it be? She must have missed something. Men weren’t like that.

Angela closed her eyes, rubbed her temples and rotated her neck. Maybe she was just tired. It had been a long day. She’d check things over again tomorrow. She turned off the computer, climbed the stairs and prepared for bed. The softness of the mattress felt lovely after the physical activity of the day. She sighed, and closed her eyes.

“Thank you, Father, for the blessings of this day. Thank you for the lovely weather and the picnic….”

An image of Hosea Stevens’s face implanted itself on Angela’s mind stopping her words. She popped her eyes open, flopped onto her back and frowned. The man was a torment to her. What was she to do?

“What do You want from me, Lord? What are You after? Why did You bring him here?”

There was no answer to her whispered words. Angela sighed, and turned on the light. The pleasant tiredness of the day was gone. There was only a restless confusion swirling through her brain.

She grabbed her pillows, propped them against the head of the bed and reached for the book she’d left on her nightstand. Reading about the hair-raising adventures of the brooding, dark-haired, brown-eyed espionage agent would not only get her thoughts off her troubles, it would drive the image of the blond, blue-eyed, square-jawed Hosea Stevens out of her mind.

Hosea flipped his baseball cap onto the shelf, laid his glove beside it and closed the closet door. It had been a fun day. And the church picnic had given him a valuable glimpse of the members of his new congregation in a relaxed setting. He was already learning their individual personalities and quirks. Like Leigh Roberts’s love of food. He grinned, stripped off his clothes and tossed them in the laundry basket. The woman ate like a linebacker! How did she stay so thin? Angela Warren on the other hand—she’d merely picked at her food.

Hosea shook his head. He’d tried six years ago to find out what happened to the young woman—if anyone had counseled her after her salvation experience. But when he’d called Pastor Barnes to find out, all the man could tell him was that Angela Warren had left the city. Now, here she was in his church. And judging from what he’d been told and the records he’d seen, she was a valuable, active member. Still, she seemed…uneasy? No. It was something more than that. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Did whatever it was have its roots in her past? “Lord, You know what’s wrong. Please give me wisdom to help Angela. Amen.”

He stood waiting for a moment, but no answer came. “All right, Lord. In Your time.” He grabbed a pair of blue-checked boxer shorts from his dresser drawer and trotted to the shower.

Chapter Three

“Well, I think that covers everything.” Hosea flipped the cover of his note pad closed and smiled at the group of people seated around the long table in the conference room adjacent to his office. “Thanks to your prayers and talents, the missionary conference should flow smoothly from beginning to end. And that leaves only one thing I want to say.”

He rose to his feet, placed his hands on the table and leaned forward as he glanced from person to person. The fear that had tortured her these last few weeks gripped Angela anew when his gaze met hers. She looked away. Had he remembered now? Was he going to tell them about her?

“Sometimes words are inadequate—even for a pastor.”

Everyone laughed, but Angela’s stomach tightened.

“This is one of those times, because ‘thank you’ does not begin to express my gratitude for your warm welcome, your openhearted acceptance of me as your pastor, and your understanding and thoughtfulness. It has been your readiness to help me settle in and become acclimated to a new home and church that has made these last few weeks such a smooth and painless transition period. I can’t thank you enough. But I can pray for you.”

Out of the corner of her eye Angela saw him straighten and start around the table. He briefly rested his hands on the shoulders of each person as he prayed.

“Father God in heaven, I pray Your richest blessings upon these, Your children. In Your great love and unending mercy, may You meet their every need, withholding no good gift, but extending healing, deliverance, peace, prosperity, and the greatest gift of all, which is the joy of Your presence in their lives. All this I ask in the matchless name of Your Son, Jesus, our Lord and Savior. Amen.”

The meeting was over. She could escape. Under cover of the general stirring and amiable chatter of the others, Angela gathered her things and headed for the door.

“Miss Warren, I’d like a word with you please. If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll walk you to your car.”

The softly spoken request froze Angela in her tracks. This was it. Her traitorous feet wouldn’t move—wouldn’t take her out the door to safety. She forced her lips into a smile as the others bid her goodnight and filed out the door.

The sound of a hymn the music team was practicing for Sunday morning poured through the open door. It did nothing to ease Angela’s taut nerves. She felt the blood draining from her face as Hosea Stevens walked over to her, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Six years of her life—gone. She would have to move. Start over somewhere new.

Angela swallowed back a sudden surge of nausea and stared down at the white knuckles on her hands as he stopped in front of her. She couldn’t make herself look up at him. She didn’t want to read the knowledge of her past in his eyes.

“Have I done something to offend you, Miss Warren?”

“What?” Angela jerked her head up. “I mean—no.” Had he not remembered? This wasn’t about her past after all. Relief made her weak. She put her hand out and gripped the chair beside the open door for support. “Why do you ask?” He glanced down at her hand and she quickly let go of the chair and stepped out into the hallway. He moved to stand beside her.

“I ask because I’ve noticed you avoid me whenever possible. And when you are forced into my company—such as at the meeting tonight—you seldom look directly at me, or speak to me.” His gaze fastened on hers. “And you always hurry off at the first possible moment.”

Angela’s heart sank—instead of avoiding Hosea Stevens’s attention she had drawn it. She looked down at the Bible in her hand and groped frantically for something to say. She couldn’t deny the truth.

“If I have said or done anything…”

Angela drew in a deep breath. She couldn’t let him believe he had committed some offense against her. The guilt was hers. “Please don’t think that, Pastor Stevens. It’s only that I’ve been…preoccupied lately.” That certainly was true.

“I see.”

There was concern in his voice. Angela lifted her head and, for the first time, met Hosea Stevens’s gaze fully. The oddest sensation struck her—a sort of tingling warmth that spread through her entire body. Her eyes widened with shock. She lowered her head so he wouldn’t notice, and started down the hall. He fell into step beside her.

“I have to say I’m relieved, Miss Warren. I thought I’d made a horrible mistake.”

She shook her head. “Not at all, Pastor. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” She made herself look back up at him. “Please forgive me.”

“Consider it done.” He lifted his hands, scrubbed them through his hair, then jammed them into his pants pockets. “Well, I’m glad that’s over with.”

Angela burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it. He looked like a little boy that had been caught out and by some stroke of luck escaped punishment.

Hosea chuckled. “I hope you won’t tell anyone what a chickenhearted fellow I am.”

Angela hugged her Bible and purse to her chest and grinned at him. “Never fear, Pastor. Wild horses could not drag your secret from me.”

Secret! Her steps faltered. She shouldn’t have said secret. What if the word triggered his memory? She hurried toward the exit door. “Was there anything more?”

“No.” Hosea reached for the push bar. “Not unless I can help you with whatever it is that has been causing your…preoccupation.” His voice softened on the word. “I’ve had good training, and a lot of experience at counseling. It’s part of my job, you know.”

Angela’s stomach knotted. She looked down and rearranged the load in her arms. “That won’t be necessary. But thank you anyway, Pastor. Good night.” She glanced up and their gazes met. That odd sensation hit her again—along with a sudden awareness of Hosea Stevens’s exceptional, dark-blond good looks. Quickly, she stepped through the door he held open.

“Good night, Miss Warren.”

There was a soft swish of air as the door closed behind her.

One o’clock! Angela laid her book on the nightstand and turned out the lamp. It did little to help her wakefulness. She threw another disgusted glance at her alarm clock, frowned at the lateness of the hour and turned onto her side. Plumping her feather pillow with her fist, she laid her head down and closed her eyes. An image of Hosea Stevens smiling down at her slid into her mind. She snapped her eyes open, flopped over onto her other side and stared at the moonlight streaming in the window.

What was wrong with her? Why should she be so agitated by a simple smile? Angela threw off the sheet and clicked the lamp back on. She was being ridiculous. Her sleeplessness had nothing to do with Hosea Stevens—she was probably just hungry.

She jammed her feet into her slippers and headed for the kitchen, but nothing in the cupboards looked appealing. It was indecent of a pastor to be so handsome and charming! But why it should bother her one way or another was beyond her. She wanted no part of any man. She had wanted nothing to do with men ever since her mother and stepfather had—

Angela snatched her mind back from the brink of that dark abyss and went to the sink for some water. She had thought she was free of the past. Now, every time she saw Hosea Stevens it all came rushing back. And if—when—he remembered…

Angela shuddered, set the glass of water on the counter and walked over to the window. Moonlight bathed her small backyard with silver radiance but she was too upset to appreciate the loveliness of the scene. She had never expected to feel an attraction for a man, but tonight, when Hosea Stevens had looked at her…when their gazes had met…

Oh, stop! Angela turned her back on the moonlight outside the window and went over to drink the water. Why was she indulging in such romantic nonsense? That odd feeling was only a momentary aberration. She was terrified to be around the man, for goodness’ sakes. At any moment he might recall that night when she had stumbled into the Crossroads Church to get away from Tony. But still—

Still nothing! Her safety depended on her staying as distant from the man as possible. She slammed the door of her mind closed on all thoughts of Hosea Stevens and headed for the library. There was one sure way to exorcise such foolishness from her mind—work. Lots and lots of work.

The image wouldn’t go away. He simply could not get it out of his mind. Hosea rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and stared down at the list of scripture references he’d prepared for Sunday’s service—all he saw was Angela Warren’s face. The problem was, he wasn’t sure why.

Was it because, as her pastor, he was concerned over what she had called her preoccupation? Or was it something more basic? Tonight, when their gazes had met he’d felt as if he’d been slammed by a pile driver!

Hosea leaned back in his chair, rested his elbows on the padded arms, and slowly rubbed his chin against the tented fingers of his joined hands. He’d never felt such a strong, instantaneous attraction to a woman. Maybe this was the beginning of love. Maybe this was the answer to his prayers for a woman to cherish and share his life with. He’d been praying for a couple of years now. Was Angela Warren God’s answer to those prayers? Could she—an ex-prostitute—be God’s choice for him?

Hosea looked down at the Bible on his desk and pursed his lips in contemplation. There was certainly precedent. God had told the prophet Hosea to marry a promiscuous woman as an example of God’s love and mercy toward wayward Israel.

“Whoa!” Hosea snapped forward in his chair. “You’re letting you’re imagination run away with you, buddy! It’s far too early to be thinking of marriage. And that precedent doesn’t apply. Angela is not a promiscuous woman. Her sin has been forgiven by the Lord, remember? It’s as if it never happened.”

Hosea closed his eyes. It made no difference. Whether his eyes were open or shut, Angela Warren’s face was there in his mind—her lovely, smiling face. He blew his breath out in a long gust and opened his eyes. If this was not of God, he had a problem. And if it was of God, he still had a problem. He curved his lips into a wry smile. At least he knew where to find the answer. He closed his Bible and rested his hands on top of it.

“Father God, You know my heart. You know my hunger and desire for a woman to love and share my life with. And You know, also, that I would rather be lonely all of my days than make the wrong choice. I choose not to trust in my own feelings, or rely on my own understanding. Therefore, Father, once again, I come to Your throne of grace and say, choose Thou for me. Have Your way, Father. Make Your will known to me, in this, as in all things, that I might obey. And, Father, as her pastor, I ask for Your wisdom and guidance in helping Angela Warren. Her distress is obvious. And if it is rooted in her past as I suspect—if that’s the real reason she’s been avoiding me—please help her to know she can trust me. I ask it in the precious name of Your Son, Jesus, my Lord and Savior.”

There. The first, most important, step in the resolution of his dilemma had been taken—he had placed it in the Lord’s hands. Now, all he had to do was stay yielded to God’s will. Not always an easy thing to do. But, God’s grace was sufficient.

Hosea folded the list of scriptures, tucked it into his Bible, and glanced at his watch. One o’clock—so back home it would be eleven. Good! His parents never went to bed before watching the evening news. He grabbed the phone’s handset, punched a memory button and leaned back.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hosea!” He could hear the happy smile in her voice. “You don’t usually call this late.” The smile faded away. “Is there something wrong, honey?”

“No. I just wanted to talk.” He took a deep breath. “Mom? Do you remember that young prostitute I told you about when I first started preaching?”

“The one at the Crossroads church? The one that was born again?”

“That’s the one. She’s here. She’s an active member of my new church.”

“You’re kidding! That’s wonderful, Hosea! I’m so pleased she’s still walking with the Lord.” Her laughter danced out of the receiver into his ear. “But how astonishing that the two of you ended up in the same church halfway across the country! It’s almost as if—”

Hosea smiled. She’d got it. There was nothing slow about his mom when it came to the things of the Lord or her children.

“So that’s why you called.”

“Yes. I’m thinking it’s pretty incredible to be a coincidence. And I’ve never felt this way about anyone. She’s wonderful. But there is a problem. I think she’s still troubled over her past. I need you and Dad to pray about this with me, Mom. I don’t want to make a mistake. I need ‘ears to hear.”’

Chapter Four

What a gorgeous September day! Angela opened the sunroof, lowered the windows, and, on a sudden, strong impulse, turned onto Hillman Boulevard. It would take her a few blocks out of her way, but the drive along the river with the tree-covered hills beyond would be worth it. She had earned a little relaxation.

She glanced over at her purse and smiled. Combined with what she had already saved, the sizable pay she had received from the Jones-Thomas Manufacturing Firm for her research report would enable her to take that European vacation she’d been promising herself. And the large bonus check they had given her for finishing before the deadline would take care of new clothes.

Angela’s smile widened. She could get that lovely, burgundy silk pantsuit she had been admiring, and that delicious sage-green dress with the flowing skirt as well. Pleased at the prospect, she braked at the red light, flicked on her directional signal and followed a blue car, overflowing with children, onto Riverside Parkway. The trunk lid of the car was strapped down over piled-up coolers, lawn chairs and a small rubber raft.

Looks like someone’s going on a last picnic before school starts. Angela smiled. What a lovely idea. She glanced toward the river. She hadn’t anyone to picnic with, but a walk along the path would be nice. And she had time… Why not? She laughed, pulled into a parking spot and climbed from the car.

A bird in the branches above her chirped loudly, swooped down out of the tree and flew straight at her head. She let out a startled squeal and ducked, then laughed and turned to watch the bird fly away toward the river. It flew directly over a young woman sitting on a park bench a short distance away. The teenager looked dejected—and familiar. One of the teen group at church?

Angela pulled off her sunglasses for a better view. It was Cathy Anders. She started over the grass toward the girl. “Cathy?”

The teenager glanced over her shoulder. Her hands lifted and wiped across her cheeks.

“Cathy, what’s wrong?” Angela skimmed an anxious gaze over the girl as she drew near. “Are you hurt?”

“N-no.”

Tears shimmered in the girl’s eyes. Angela sat down on the bench beside her and reached for her hand. “Well, there’s something wrong, Cathy. Why don’t you tell me what it is? Maybe I can help.”

The girl shook her head and looked down at her lap. “No one can help.”

All sorts of dire circumstances flashed through Angela’s mind. She took a deep breath and offered a silent prayer for guidance. “I’d like to try, Cathy—if you’ll let me.”

“Oh, Miss Warren!” The teenager broke into sobs and threw herself into Angela’s arms. “My dad found the money I’d saved for college and he took it. My bus ticket, too. He cashed it in and went to Charlie’s. Now I can’t get there for registration and they’re going to give my scholarship to someone else.”

“Charlie’s? You mean the tavern where they have off-track betting?” The girl’s hair brushed against Angela’s cheek as she nodded. “Oh, Cathy, I’m so sorry.” She tightened her arms around the weeping girl. “Surely, there’s something—” Cathy’s forehead rolled back and forth against her shoulder.

“No. I called. They need my share of the money by four o’clock today or I lose the scholarship.” Cathy took a long, shuddering breath and straightened. “It’s no use talking about it, Miss Warren. I don’t have the money now. And I can’t get there before registration. I can’t get there at all without my ticket.” She swiped at her streaming eyes with a balled-up tissue in her hand. “Even if I had the money, if I don’t register they will close me out of my classes.”

Angela took a deep breath to calm a sudden surge of anger. “Let me understand, Cathy. You say your father found your money. Were you hiding it from him?”

Shame washed over the teenager’s face. She nodded and looked away. “I had a savings account where I banked whatever I could save from my pay after I bought food and stuff. But I had to withdraw the money yesterday so I could buy my ticket and be ready to leave early this morning. I hid it in the bag of books I’m…was…taking with me, and he found it.”

Fresh tears flowed down Cathy’s cheeks. “I know that must sound strange and awful to you, Miss Warren, but—” She glanced at Angela, then looked back down at the wadded tissue in her hands. “But I have to do those things. My dad’s a gambler and…and an alcoholic.”

“I see.” The anger in Angela turned to fury at the pain she saw in the girl’s eyes. The anguish of living with an addicted parent wasn’t strange to her at all. She knew, far too well, the pain and humiliation Cathy was suffering.

“It’s not like you think, Miss Warren.” Cathy’s back straightened, her chin lifted. “My dad would never have taken my money if it wasn’t for the alcohol. That’s why I wanted to go to college. I wanted to do medical research.” Tears spilled from her eyes again. “Maybe I could have found a way to help people like my dad.”

Angela’s eyes filled. Her heart ached for Cathy. The denial, and the vehement protection of the parent were all too familiar to her, too. The same insidious emotions had ensnared her until her dreams were dead and her life destroyed. Well, it was too late for her, but it would not happen to Cathy! Not if she could help it. Who needed a vacation in Europe anyway?

Unable to restrain herself, Angela gave Cathy a fierce hug, then leaped to her feet. “Come on, Cathy!” She grabbed the astonished teenager by the hand and tugged her off the bench, pulling her along as she ran toward her car.

“What are you doing, Miss Warren? Where are we going?” Cathy’s head barely missed the edge of the car roof as Angela all but shoved her into the passenger seat.

“To get you registered for college!” Angela slammed the door behind Cathy, ran around to the driver’s side, hopped in, then made a quick U-turn.

Cathy grabbed for the dash and held on. Her tears dried up as they bore down on a dark-green sedan. “You don’t understand, Miss Warren. I don’t have the money, and—”

“Yes you do, Cathy. I’m going to give it to you.”

“What?” The girl’s mouth gaped open. She stared in wide-eyed astonishment at Angela. “Why?”

For hundreds of horrible, painful reasons. Angela’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as she fought back the dark memories. “Let’s just say I’m paying a debt to a lady who once helped me.

“Cathy, it will save time if you’ll let me take you home to get your things.” Angela frowned as the teenager shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Miss Warren. I know you’re trying to help me. And I’m not just being stubborn.” Tears swarmed into Cathy’s red, swollen eyes. “I know time is important. And I want to go to college more than anything! But I just can’t let you go to my house. My dad— Sometimes my dad gets…rough. And Pastor Stevens knows—” Her voice broke on a sob.

Angela put her arm around the girl’s tense shoulders. “Never mind, Cathy. You don’t have to explain. I understand.” She ignored a sudden twinge of nerves and forced a smile. “Why don’t you go splash some cold water on your eyes while I call the church? It will make them feel better.” She pointed to the door that led to the entrance hall. “Go through there and make a right—it’s the door on the right side.”

When Cathy had gone, Angela drew a deep breath, turned to the phone and tapped the memory button for the church. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to pray against her own wishes while the phone on the other end of the line rang. “Please let him be there for Cathy’s sake, Lord. Please let him—”

“Hello. Christian Crossroads—”

“Barbara, this is Angela. Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to Pastor Stevens right away. Is he there?”