Mr. Miracle

by Debbie Macomber

  He was so enraptured by her he forgot himself and responded in French. Being well versed in languages was a requirement for placement on Earth. Instantly, she brightened, her eyes nearly melting with appreciation.

  The room felt warmer than it had been only moments earlier, substantially warmer. French was a beautiful language, and it flowed back from her lips like melted butter being gently poured over a culinary delight.

  Caught in the magic of her spell, Harry found that he was incapable of responding further in either language. All he could manage was a weak grin.

  Michelle sighed, as though he’d managed to completely charm her. “Your French is excellent.”

  “Ah … really? Thanks.” He stuttered out a response. The tinkling bells he’d heard earlier had taken on the sound of an urgent fire alarm that insisted he evacuate the building as quickly as possible. To that effect, he reached for his briefcase and stuffed papers inside. He didn’t have a clue what the papers were.

  “Oh, are you getting ready to leave?” she asked.

  He nodded. That was when he caught a whiff of her perfume. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the scent of roses and mist and something else so potent it sent his senses reeling.

  “I won’t keep you,” she was saying.

  Harry forced his eyes open.

  “I just thought I’d stop by and introduce myself,” she continued, stepping closer to Harry’s desk.

  My goodness, she smelled heavenly. Heaven, he repeated. Think of heaven. It didn’t help. Heaven seemed a very long way away. Unable to stop himself, Harry leaned toward her and sniffed her neck.

  Clearly, he’d surprised her, because Michelle released a soft gasp.

  Instantly chagrined, Harry tried to explain. “I don’t know what perfume you’re wearing, but it’s very nice.”

  She gifted him with one of her smiles. “It’s called Divine.”

  “That explains it,” he muttered, and reached for his coat.

  Michelle sat on the corner of his desk, letting one leg dangle over the edge. “Harry … before you go.”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes went wide and round. “Is there a Mrs. Mills?”

  Harry paused, his hand clenching his briefcase handle in a death grip.

  “Are you asking if I’m married?”

  “Yes.”

  Harry didn’t answer right away because he noticed that her eyelashes were especially long. When she blinked they seemed to brush against her cheekbones. “No … I’m unmarried.” A wife, it was decided, would overly complicate his earthly visit. Other angels sometimes came as a couple, man and wife. Harry had been assigned to go solo.

  “Surely you’ve been married?” she quizzed, blinking with the question, fluttering those exceptionally long lashes. It was akin to watching a butterfly take flight, and for a couple of uncomfortable seconds Harry was completely mesmerized and dumbstruck.

  “Never.” He was anxious to leave and get to Celeste. He needed to discuss the incident involving the security guard. And then … then there was this French teacher.

  “You’ve really never been married?” Michelle followed him out of the classroom, sticking close to his side as their footsteps echoed in the hallway toward the exit. “I find that hard to believe.”

  Harry hadn’t expected his words to be challenged. He’d assumed no one would question him about such matters. “I assure you it’s the truth.”

  Her returning laugh was light and breezy, as if she’d been teasing him all along. “Oh Harry, I believe you. It’s just that I find it hard to imagine that some lucky woman hasn’t snatched you up long before now.”

  That was when it hit him, bull’s-eye, square in the middle of his forehead. This woman was flirting with him. He’d heard of this when he was up in heaven.

  The attraction he felt for her had been instantaneous. And now he realized it was mutual. The fire alarm became a tornado warning. Right away Harry remembered the first and most important rule. Angels don’t get romantically involved with humans. That was strictly taboo.

  Once he was outside, the cool evening air hit his face and seemed to free him from the spell he’d fallen under. What Harry hadn’t expected when he’d arrived on Earth was that he’d be tempted. He shook himself in order to clear his head. It didn’t matter how he felt about this highly attractive woman. Michelle Heath was dangerous to his mission. He couldn’t allow her magnetism to distract him from what was most important.

  “You heard about the Christmas concert, didn’t you?” she asked, in that same soft voice that fell so sweetly from her lush lips.

  “Concert?” Harry’s mouth had gone dry. He’d read the notice but hadn’t given it much thought.

  “The college choral group is putting on a holiday performance. It’s the highlight of the year. They have been practicing for weeks.”

  Harry hesitated, afraid of where this was leading. “I … I don’t know.”

  “All teachers are required to attend,” she reminded him. “Dr. Conceito is adamant about that.”

  Harry could feel a noose tightening around his neck. She was going to ask him to accompany her.

  “We could meet in Massey Hall,” she suggested ever so innocently.

  Harry cleared his throat. “I’ll have to check my schedule,” he murmured.

  “Oh please do.” The entreaty in her voice couldn’t be ignored.

  Harry blinked, and could feel himself weakening. “Massey Hall?”

  “The performance center, Thursday afternoon at four-thirty.”

  “Of course.” His mind frantically searched for a way of extricating himself, and when he spoke, the words shot from his mouth in such a rush it was amazing anyone could understand him. “I’m teaching a class right before the concert. I doubt I could make it to the performance center on time. In fact, I’m sure I’m going to be late. I’d hate the thought of you missing part of the performance because of me.”

  “No worries,” she assured him. “I’ll save a seat for you, right next to me.”

  This was exactly what Harry didn’t want to hear. “That’d be … wonderful,” he said. They parted, and Harry rushed to seek Celeste’s advice.

  “Okay, where were we?” Celeste asked, joining him once again. “Oh yes, you were getting ready to tell me about your meeting with Michelle Heath.”

  “Before I do, tell me what you know about her,” he said.

  Celeste studied him closely. “She’s been divorced for a long time, with two grown children. Be careful, Harry. Michelle’s lonely and on the prowl.”

  Harry nodded hard enough to dislocate his neck. “I thought as much. She stopped by my classroom to introduce herself.”

  “You’re attracted to her.” Celeste’s tone implied he might as well transfer straight back to the pearly gates after less than a week on Earth.

  “It’s more a case of her coming on to me,” he assured his mentor. “She asked me to accompany her to the Christmas concert … I made an excuse, said I’d be late, but she insisted on saving a place for me. What do I do?” he pleaded, feeling almost desperate. His heart was pounding and his breathing had gone shallow. It was absolutely necessary that he find an excuse to get out of this concert.

  “Well, Harry,” Celeste said, slowly shaking her head. “It seems to me you’ve got yourself into a pickle.”

  That was the last thing he wanted to hear.

  Chapter Five

  Although she had twenty-four hours to think it over, Addie knew this situation with Erich was going to be a difficult one. They needed to talk, and frankly, Addie wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. Her steps dragged, her feet heavy, as she crossed the matted winter lawn from her family home to the house in which Erich had been raised.

  Julie Simmons opened the wreath-adorned front door even before Addie had the opportunity to ring the doorbell. Her eyes, the same shade of blue as her son’s, expressed deep relief and gratitude.

  “Erich’s awake,” she whispered. “He’s home fr
om the hospital, but he didn’t have a good night. Because it’s difficult for him to get up and down, he’ll need to sleep in a chair for the next couple of days … maybe longer.”

  In other words, Erich wasn’t in the best of moods. For that matter, neither was Addie. She hadn’t slept well, either, tossing and turning in a futile pursuit of sleep. She glanced at him and saw that both his hands from midway up his fingers to his elbows were in casts, making any kind of movement difficult. Basically, he was helpless.

  The instant she’d made the offer to take care of Erich, her mother and Julie had been filled with grateful relief. They’d gushed with appreciation, thanking her over and over again.

  Addie had assumed she’d feel good about being able to do this for her mother. Quite the contrary. Already she was filled with dread, and her mother and neighbor hadn’t even left for the airport. If Addie hadn’t been able to get along with Erich for the first eighteen years of her life, it seemed crazy to think she would now. Being his caregiver would surely prove to be her worst nightmare.

  And his, too.

  “Come in, come in,” Julie insisted, reaching out and grabbing Addie by the elbow and practically dragging her inside the house. The door slammed in her wake.

  Her reluctance couldn’t have been any more evident. Automatically, her gaze flew to Erich, who sat in the living room in a recliner, his feet raised. A hand-knit afghan covered his legs. Both wrists in their casts rested in his lap. He looked miserable and in pain. One side of his face was bruised, and his lips were swollen.

  “I’ll leave you two to chat,” Julie said, and quickly left the room.

  Addie moved into the living room and stood with her fingers tucked into the back pockets of her jeans.

  “You can sit down if you want,” Erich said. One eye had swollen completely shut, she noticed.

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” Addie preferred to stand. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather stand.”

  “Have it your way.”

  “Your mother must have mentioned my offer.”

  “Yeah, she told me. Am I supposed to be happy about that?”

  His mother was right—Erich was in a rare mood. She swallowed back a retort, doing her best to remember he was in pain and not to take it personally. She bit her tongue and managed to restrain herself from snapping back.

  “I’d rather it be anyone but you,” he said.

  Oh, he liked adding salt to a wound.

  “Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

  He muttered, “I figured as much.”

  “Isn’t there anyone else who could step in?” she asked. At first she was embarrassed to have been so blunt. Then she figured, what was the point of hiding her eagerness to escape this situation?

  “Like who?”

  “Don’t you have someone who cares?” Because, clearly, she didn’t, and she wanted to be sure he knew it.

  He rotated his head and looked away from her. “Not currently.”

  So much for that. “What about a friend?” She was beginning to sound desperate.

  “Listen, Addie, you’re not obligated to do this.”

  She was well aware of that.

  Julie, who must have been listening in on their conversation, stepped around the corner from the kitchen. “The insurance company is providing a nurse to stop by once a day. She’ll see to bathing him and so on. I asked about increasing the time she spent with Erich, you know, like a private nurse,” she added, “but the cost was astronomical, far and away more than we could afford.”

  “My friends work during the day,” Erich explained. “Even if they didn’t, I wouldn’t ask them to be my caregivers. Not this time of year … or any other time,” he qualified.

  All the solutions they’d tried were the ones Addie had hoped to suggest. She felt her heart sinking.

  “Then I guess it’s up to me.” Her attitude was fatalistic at this point.

  “Don’t bother,” Erich insisted, glaring at her. “I’ll be just fine without you or anyone else.”

  “Sure you will,” Addie murmured sarcastically. He couldn’t do anything on his own. She’d literally have to spoon-feed him.

  His mother dropped her voice as though that would prevent him from hearing. “He hasn’t been feeling well this morning, and that makes him a little cranky. I think it might be one of the side effects from the pain medication. I know you two had your differences when you were teenagers, but you’re adults now, right?”

  “Right,” Addie admitted reluctantly.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Her look was strained, but hopeful. “He won’t always be this … unpleasant, I’m sure.”

  “Actually, I think his bad mood is related to the fact that he’s about to be stuck with me,” Addie returned, mustering a smile.

  Erich smiled, too, for the first time since she’d arrived, letting her know she was spot-on.

  “I’ll leave you two alone to sort all this out,” Julie said, rubbing her palms together as though to generate heat in a room that had gone decidedly cool. “I’m going to finish packing my carry-on.”

  Addie moved across the living room to stand in front of the fireplace. His mother had tacked up two Christmas stockings that looked crocheted. She focused her gaze on them.

  “My grandmother made those for us when I was just a kid,” Erich explained. “Mom still puts them up every year, but as far as I’m concerned, they’re going down as soon as she walks out the door. I can’t stand Christmas.”

  “Fine, if that’s the way you feel. I’m not going to force you into a Santa suit.” Nor was she interested in discussing how he felt about Christmas decorations. She had more important matters on her mind. Gathering her resolve, she faced him and asked the most important question, the one that had been on her mind most of the night. “Can we do this?” she asked.

  From the intensity of his returning look, she knew she didn’t need to explain the question. It went without saying that they didn’t like each other. But were they capable of putting aside their differences long enough to survive the next two weeks? It wouldn’t be easy on either of them. It would be more difficult for Erich than for her, being that he was the injured party and the one in need of help. He must hate the thought of being in her debt.

  “Do we have a choice?” he returned, with a question of his own.

  “I don’t think we do,” Addie murmured. She’d spent a good portion of the night seeking alternative solutions, all of which they had already considered and eliminated before she could even propose them.

  “I don’t like this any better than you do,” Erich said, as if it was important that she understand his point of view.

  “I know, and I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t like it, either. The question is whether we can set aside our dislike of each other long enough to see this through.” Two weeks would feel like an eternity, and the worst part was that it fell over Christmas.

  Once more, Erich centered his gaze away from her, focusing on the opposite wall. “I can manage, if you can.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  He nodded and then released what sounded like a pent-up sigh. “That’s about all either of us can expect.”

  Addie sat down on the ottoman across from him and leaned slightly forward. “I have classes three days a week. It’s important that I go to those.” She was going to need to focus on her studies if she planned to make a go of schooling.

  “No problem.”

  “I’ll make sure you get food and have plenty of straws, but as for anything else …”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  The picture of Erich stuck with her was a humorous one. Addie did her best to disguise her amusement.

  “This isn’t funny, Addie. I’m miserable and cranky, and I doubt I’ll be a good patient. The fact is, other than when it’s absolutely necessary, it might be best if you stayed away.”

  “Do you honestly think I’d want to spend more time with you than I need to?” Addie felt the heat fill her f
ace. It seemed Erich thought she would go out of her way to be with him because she still had a thing for him. The man was living in a dream world.

  “Don’t go all Mother Teresa on me, got it?”

  If he wasn’t so serious, this would be downright comical. “Trust me, you don’t have any worries there.”

  “Good,” he said, and sighed as if their conversation had physically drained him. His eyes drifted closed and then flew open as if he’d caught himself in the nick of time.

  “Did you hear our mothers decided to leave tonight?” she asked. Their flight was scheduled to leave early the following morning, and with the threat of snow, they’d decided to spend the night in an economy hotel next to the airport rather than risk missing the flight.

  Erich’s frown darkened his face. “Yeah, I know.”

  “We can do this, Erich,” she said, hoping to sound positive and upbeat.

  “We can try,” Erich said, sounding none too confident.

  Addie stood, eager to be on her way. “I’ll stop by sometime this evening.”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll add my contact info to your phone—if you need anything before then, call me.”

  Again, he acknowledged the comment with a flippant nod. His phone was on the table next to the recliner. She reached for it and noticed several text messages.

  “You have a text message here from someone named Ashley.”

  “I don’t want to see anybody, especially Ashley.”

  “Do you want me to answer it for you?”

  He looked up at her as if she’d suggested something weird. “No, delete them all.”

  “But—”

  “Fine, don’t. I’ll do it myself later.”

  “Don’t get snarky with me,” she snapped. “I’m not your personal assistant. If you want those texts deleted, then fine. I was only trying to help.”

  “Just hand me my phone.”

  “Give me a minute,” she mumbled, concentrating on adding her contact information to his device. When she’d finished and stored the number, she handed him his phone. It immediately fell out of his hand and onto the carpet. Addie reached down to get it and gave it to him a second time. He left it in his lap, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.