Beloved Protector (Heartsong Presents) (15 page)

“Yes, you can,
mea amo,
” he whispered harshly.

Tapat dropped her head back, the pleading in her eyes not reaching her lips. He cupped her chin with his hand. “Yes, you can,” he repeated much softer. “You had the strength to keep him. Now you need to have the strength to let him go.”

Hazaq’s crying grew louder. Tapat slid from Andronicus’s lap and stood. Her face had gone from strong and sure of purpose to hopeless and haggard with grief. She stared forlornly down at the child before raining kisses across his face and, in an action that took Andronicus by surprise, handed Hazaq to him.

“I can’t do it!” she cried and ran from the room, leaving Hazaq with him. He realized just what she was saying by her action. It was up to him to be strong for both of them. He swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat.

Jason and the others returned to the room, their questioning looks going from Andronicus to Tapat as she fled down the hallway.

Andronicus got up and went to Bernice. Her eyes were focused hungrily on Hazaq, and there was more life in them than when she had first entered the room. He had to believe that this was for the best.

Jason met his look with understanding. The older man nodded slightly, giving him the courage to do what must be done.

He kissed Hazaq, and without saying anything, he handed the child to Bernice, leaving it to Jason to explain further. He quickly followed Tapat’s fleeing figure.

Chapter 15

A
ndronicus found Tapat sitting next to her favorite place—the waterfall that tumbled over the mountain to the Jordan River flowing in the distance. She was staring out over the lush green hills, the mist from the waterfall creating a beautiful rainbow in the chasm below.

He had followed her here the night they had arrived and she had fled from Jason’s house after relinquishing possession of Hazaq. He knew at the time that she was blinded by her tears and wouldn’t pay attention to where she was going; she just needed to escape.

Following a safe distance behind her, he had imprinted landmarks in his memory while instinctively knowing that she needed the space as she struggled with her fragmented emotions.

The rushing water had at last impeded her progress and she had stopped and fallen to the ground, her sobs tearing him apart inside. Although she had tried to push him away, he had lifted her from the ground and wrapped his arms about her, snugging her head beneath his chin.

He had held her for several long hours, until her copious weeping had been reduced to intermittent sniffles, and then he continued to hold her beyond what was probably advisable. That night, he had been the friend she needed. Now the sound of the rushing water couldn’t even begin to compare to the blood roaring through him as he saw her sitting there. Friendship was the farthest thing from his mind.

It was time to return to Jerusalem, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so until he was certain that Tapat was well.

At his approach, she turned, looked up at him and gave him a tired smile. Despite the dark circles under her eyes, he marveled at her serene features and realized that he had interrupted her communing with her God. It always unnerved him when he saw her like this. At these times, he felt a great gulf between them and, though he longed to span it, he didn’t know how.

But then, that wasn’t exactly true. All he had to do was give himself up to this God of hers. At times he longed to do so; at others he felt a fear greater than any he had ever known. He had learned long ago that when surrendering to anyone, you then became a slave. It was that thought more than anything that kept him from taking such a drastic step.

He seated himself next to her and studied her face. She looked weary, and he wondered if sleep had eluded her as it had him. At his continued perusal, her cheeks bloomed rosily, giving at least some semblance of color to her wan face.

It had been a week since Tapat had handed over Hazaq. She had come to terms with the fact that she had done what was best for the babe long before he had. He had questioned himself over and over about whether he had done right by talking Tapat into giving the child up, but in just a week, Hazaq had put on weight and his coloring was much improved.

He picked up a stick lying on the ground close by and threw it into the water, watching as it bobbed and swirled and then tumbled to the gorge below.

“You have not been to see Hazaq,” he stated.

She watched the stick moving in the water below them. Shaking her head she told him, “No. I thought it best to allow him to bond with his new mother without my interference.”

He didn’t know why he was surprised. If she had the courage to give the child up in the first place, then surely she was strong enough to do whatever was best to see him happy. It took a great depth of love to be able to do such a thing. An unselfish love. Something he had learned long ago that she had in abundance.

He narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose as he stared up at the hot Palestinian sun. They were shaded by the green overgrowth, the grass on the hillside cooling the temperatures around them. In a way, this place reminded him of Rome, except without the stench of the polluted Tiber River. He could see why the Christians had decided to settle here. It was a beautiful area.

“I haven’t seen you for a few days.”

He recognized the statement for the question it was. Had she missed him?

“The magistrate asked for our help. They have been having problems with the zealots invading the Decapolis and wreaking havoc on the outlying settlements. I’m assuming they are allied with the same ones that attacked us.”

She didn’t ask further, and he was glad. He didn’t want to have to tell her about their excursions, nor the lives they had taken.

He glanced at her. “I understand you have purchased a house.”

She turned to him in surprise.

“Jason told me when I came to see you. Because you weren’t at the house he indicated, he thought you might be here.”

She looked around at the hills and rushing water, her face alight with her feelings. The spark that had died when she had given up Hazaq seemed to have been reignited.

“I feel closer to the Lord here than anywhere.” She sighed softly.

He followed her look, nodding. “I remember you once telling me that God spoke to us through the beauty of His creation. At times like this, I can almost believe it.”

The expectant look on her face brought him up short. He didn’t want to give her a false hope that he believed in this God of hers. It wasn’t her God that he had come to talk about, nor the beauty of the hills and trees. What he needed to say his lips were reluctant to utter.

“I have to return to Jerusalem,” he finally said.

She turned to him, unable to conceal the emotions shining out from her dark eyes. He had thought for a time that she had become enamored of Crassus, but that look told him otherwise. He had experience enough with women to recognize love when he saw it. His heart began thundering in response and he forgot what he had been about to say.

He struggled with whether to accept the unintentional invitation in her eyes. It would be so easy to take advantage of her innocence, but the complete trust on her face made his baser instincts die a quick death.

“Must you?”

He noted the rapid rise and fall of her chest, which spoke of her own checked emotions. He looked away, fighting the urge to take her in his arms and show her just how much he loved her. But what good would it do? More than likely he was going to die in the coming battle and she would marry one of her Christians and live a long and happy life with a passel of children running around.

That bitter thought made him turn back to her. All of his good intentions floated away like the stick he had thrown into the river. He couldn’t die without knowing what it would be like to just once be held in her arms, not as a consoling friend but as a man, to kiss those rosy lips until they both forgot that they were mortal enemies.

He moved closer, cupping her cheeks with his palms. Her startled eyes met his. She placed her palms against his chest, but she didn’t move away. Needing no further encouragement, he brought his lips down on hers.

Her inexperienced response forced him to rein in the passion that had been longing to escape for some time. Drawing on willpower he didn’t know he possessed, he gentled his kisses.

* * *

Tapat had given in to the desire to be treated like a woman who loved and was loved in return. She had seen in Andronicus’s eyes a desire that matched her own and, against her better judgment, had allowed his kiss.

She felt herself sinking in a maelstrom of emotion. It would be so easy to give in to the pleasure of the moment, especially knowing that it might never come again.

Oh, how she wanted to believe that he loved her as she loved him, but she had known him far too long. Too many women had come and gone in his life for her to take him seriously. He couldn’t possibly understand the depth of love between a man and a woman when they came together with the Lord’s blessing.

That thought was like a drenching in the cold waters of the river. She struggled against Andronicus’s hold until he finally realized that she was serious and he pulled back slightly, staring in confusion into her stormy eyes.

She saw him mentally shake himself and he slowly released her. Only now did she realize that her body was trembling. He noticed, too. Turning away from her, he drew his knees up against his chest and pushed his hair back with hands that trembled much like her own. He blew out a strong gust of breath.

“I’m sorry,” he told her huskily. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Pain rippled through her in wave upon wave. Hadn’t she already known that his feelings didn’t match her own? She was just a debt to be repaid.

“Why?”

He turned to her in surprise. “What?”

“Why are you sorry?”

He opened and closed his mouth several times, reminding her of a fish out of water. Frowning, he told her, “I have no right to give you hope that there could be some kind of relationship between us.”

Tapat flinched. He was only saying what she already knew; he had only done what he felt was his duty because she had once saved his life, but he was also a man with a man’s desires. She turned her head so that he couldn’t see how much he had hurt her. Pulling a blade of grass, she began chewing on it as she looked out over the Jordan Valley.

“It was only a kiss,” she told him, surprised that her voice was steady.

Gripping her chin between his thumb and finger, he turned her to face him again. Anger darkened his cinnamon-brown eyes.

“I don’t believe that! Not for someone like you.”

She jerked away from him, climbing quickly to her feet. The peace she had felt earlier had long since disappeared. Another sure sign that she needed to get away from him.

“You know nothing about me!” she spat angrily. “Not really.”

They glared at each other for several seconds, neither knowing what to say. All she knew was that he was leaving and she would probably never see him again. She absolutely would not break down in front of him again. “I need to go home,” she told him, turning and walking away.

She heard him get to his feet and quickened her pace.

He caught up with her and pulled her around to face him, and for the first time in a long time, she felt real fear at his intimidating presence. He was every inch the affronted male.

* * *

Andronicus gripped her upper arms tightly, but seeing her flinch, he loosened his hold slightly and checked his quick temper.

“I know a lot about you,” he disagreed testily. “I know you are kind and loving, generous and giving. You are beautiful inside and out.” He could easily have added to the list. She was loyal to a fault. If she knew that he loved her, she would wait for him; she would wait an eternity if she had to, giving up any hope of a normal life of family and children. He couldn’t do that to her. “Any man would be pleased to have you,” he finished quietly.

“But I’m not for someone like you,” she said softly, and he didn’t bother to deny it.

“I’ve been a long time without a woman,” he told her, rubbing salt in the wound. “Yes, I find you desirable, but you were right when you said we were too different.”

He could see her fighting the tears. “Please let me go,” she begged, her tear-laden voice twisting his insides.

“Tapat...”

She pushed his hands away angrily. “You’ve done your
duty,
now just leave me alone!”

Turning, she ran, and this time, clenching his fists against the desire to go after her, he let her go.

* * *

Tapat ran, her tears blinding her. She stumbled, picked herself up and moved on.

She had known all along that this would happen. Isn’t that exactly why the Lord had warned about being yoked with an unbeliever? And although she and Andronicus weren’t married, they might as well have been because, in her heart, she knew she would never love another. They were as bound in her mind as if they had spoken the vows. She had allowed herself to love him when she had known better.

It was so easy to empathize with Andronicus’s servant, Nasab. He wanted to go home to his own country, but he felt compelled by honor and duty to stay with Andronicus. She wouldn’t wish that for anyone. Especially not Andronicus.

Honor and duty. What cold words when applied to a person’s reason for staying with you. Andronicus had felt honor bound to bring her safely to Pella, but now that he had fulfilled his obligation, he had another duty, one that she didn’t envy him at all. One that would in all probability cost him his life.

She stopped, horror washing over her. If Andronicus died, he would be lost for all eternity, sentenced to go where the lost angels who had given up their place in heaven were sent. The Lord had said that there would be no light, and there would be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Utter darkness. Incredible anguish. Gehenna was the absolute opposite of heaven, two places she had yet to discuss with Andronicus. Had Lucius? Had Anna? Did he have any idea what turning his back on Elohim would cost him?

He might not, but she did. The picture it invoked made her tremble all over. She could almost see Andronicus writhing in pain, crying out in anguish, tormented by the thought that it was for eternity and he had rejected the Savior that could have spared him. Like the rich man and Lazarus that the Lord had spoken about, she could see herself on one side of the divide and Andronicus on the other, begging for just a drop of water to quench his thirst.

Groaning at the picture in her mind, the tears that had lessened now returned in full force. Guilt forced her to stop. How many days had they traveled together, yet she hadn’t spoken of Christ and salvation to anyone except Crassus, and that was only because he’d asked.

She turned, intent on retracing her steps and remedying this oversight, but another thought stopped her. They had exchanged harsh words and she still felt defenseless against the feelings he could inspire in her just by looking at her. She wasn’t certain she could cope with such emotions just now. She had come so close to losing herself in his kisses. So close. Wisdom dictated that it would be best if she kept a safe distance. Especially now.

Perhaps Crassus could reason with him where she had failed. Soldier to soldier. He would be at the gathering of believers tonight. She would talk to him about it then.