Angels Undercover

by Diane Noble

  The table was set for eight people. Kate gave it a curious glance, then turned her attention to the transformation of Clementine’s yard.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Kate said in awe.

  Clementine laughed as she looked around, seeming to take in everything from her husband’s potting shed to the back door she wouldn’t venture outside of just months before. “It’s glorious, absolutely glorious!”

  Kate knew the older woman wasn’t just talking about the yard. Her own transformation was nothing short of a miracle. “Please, sit down, dear Kate,” she said softly, indicating the chair opposite where she stood.

  Kate nodded and settled into the chair, and Clementine did the same. Kate glanced at the empty places, but the older woman didn’t seem to notice. She reached for the teapot and poured the dark, fragrant liquid into Kate’s dainty bone china cup.

  “A lot has changed since the angel of Copper Mill went to work last fall,” Clementine said.

  Kate smiled. “Actually, our angel is still at work, performing acts of kindness. It’s slowed down somewhat recently, which is a good thing, since I was having a hard time keeping up with my angel-votive ‘orders.’”

  She still received a new list from time to time and always looked forward to seeing who was on it. It had also become a prayer list for both her and Paul.

  “You once quoted something that your husband read in church...I think it was from the writings of Teresa of Avila.” Clementine frowned. “It went something like this: ‘From this time forward, Christ has no body on earth but yours; no hands but yours; no feet but yours...’” She paused. “I forget the rest.”

  Kate nodded and continued softly. “Yours are the eyes through which his compassion will look upon the world; yours are the feet with which he will go about doing good; yours are the hands with which he will bless others.”

  “I think about that a lot,” Clementine said.

  Just then a motorcycle roared up the driveway, and a moment later, Caleb King crossed the yard to the table. He grinned as he plopped into the chair beside her. “Hi, Mrs. Hanlon.”

  “Well, my goodness,” Kate said. “I didn’t know you’d be here. It’s good to see you.” Flame had been leading worship services for the youth group at Faith Briar, and the teens sometimes performed special music during the main church service. They were so busy that Kate and Paul rarely got to talk with them. She made a mental note to invite all three to stop by the parsonage soon.

  Kate heard another vehicle pull into the driveway, and a few minutes after the sounds of slamming doors, the Green Acres Gang—Earl, Hyacinth, Pansy, Daisy, and Caroline—slowly made their way across the backyard. They stopped briefly to admire the carpet of tulips and daffodils, then, smiling broadly, took their places at the table.

  Clementine poured tea in each cup, smiled at the group, then looked back to Kate. “The thing about angels,” she said, “is that you never know when they may appear.”

  Kate nodded. “It seems they—at least the ones I know of—appear when they’re needed most.” She glanced at the Green Acres Gang. “Always.”

  “Sometimes they need new recruits,” Earl said, looking across the table at Caleb. “Sometimes a motorcycle rider fits the bill better than an old station wagon full of seniors.”

  Kate’s mouth dropped open, but Caleb didn’t seem surprised. “That’s true,” he said.

  “You’ve been helping them?” Kate asked incredulously.

  Earl laughed. “He was one of us from the beginning.”

  Kate sat back in astonishment. “You were?”

  Caleb grinned. “Who do you think figured out that knitting needles could open locks?”

  “Oh dear,” Caroline said. “You weren’t supposed to give that away.”

  The three sisters giggled, and Daisy said, “And who do you think told us we should always leave the lights on when we’re through?” She gave the young man an affectionate smile.

  “Caleb?” Kate said. “You?”

  He nodded, grinning.

  “And who do you think asked Willy about that scholarship?” Earl sat back with a satisfied smile. “I’ve been known to dip a salmon egg in the river from time to time, and it’s amazing what you can find out if you hang around Willy’s Bait and Tackle long enough.”

  Kate looked at Caleb. “Did you know about the music? I mean, did you know ahead of time your house would be broken into?”

  He chuckled. “No, they came up with that on their own. I had no idea.”

  “We like to surprise even those angels among us,” Earl said.

  Clementine reached for the sandwiches and passed them around. Kate took a cucumber-mint, a cream-cheese-and-olive, and a deviled-egg-on-rye. She watched with delight as Caleb, whom she was sure would rather be downing a cheeseburger and fries and a soda, lifted three little party sandwiches onto his plate and then took a sip of tea.

  “You’re probably wondering how I got involved in all of this,” Clementine said to Kate.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve been one of them from the beginning too,” Kate admonished.

  She laughed. “Oh no. I wasn’t recruited until after the motorcycle ride.” Her eyes misted. “You may remember the picture on my mantel—the one with my hubby and me on the Indian Chief? Well, when Caleb rode up on his, I knew somehow he was involved in the break-ins. I simply told him that day I wanted in.”

  “And I passed the word along,” Caleb said around a mouthful of a cheddar-cheese-and-black-olive sandwich.

  “I have two questions,” Kate said, smiling at them all.

  “Only two?” Hyacinth grinned.

  “Why did you put Caroline on the list? She was one of you.”

  Pansy reached for Caroline’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. “I thought for sure you’d figured that one out,” she said. “It was because of Major General Beauregard’s turncoat activities.”

  “We were trying to do everything we could to help her get through those darkest of days,” Daisy said.

  Caroline lifted her teacup to her lips and took a sip. Then she smiled. “I didn’t see the final list before Caleb typed it up. You could have knocked me over with a feather when you gave me that votive.”

  “Caleb typed the list?”

  “Pretty good, eh?” he said, grinning. “I thought all those misspelled words were genius.”

  Kate sat back. “Okay. My second question. How did you—do you—discover who needs an angel visit?”

  The tableful of angels exchanged glances. “I taught school here for years,” Hyacinth said. “I know just about every family—their kids and grandkids—in Copper Mill.”

  “And I was a newspaper reporter before I owned the Chronicle,” Earl said. “I make it my business to find out details no one else pays much attention to.”

  “And Daisy and I,” Pansy said, “belong to the same prayer-shawl ministry as Caleb’s mom, Carmella. It’s our ministry to pray for those in need as we knit or crochet shawls for them. Each stitch represents a prayer for that person.” She paused. “It’s easy to want to do more to help.”

  Caroline reached for another cucumber sandwich. “As for me?” She grinned. “I’m just nosy.” She laughed and took a bite. “It runs in the family.”

  Kate turned to Caleb. There was one more mystery to clear up. How did he get involved with this group of sneaky seniors? There were decades between them in age.

  “You’re wondering about me?” he asked quietly.

  Kate nodded.

  “A few years ago, when I thought I’d ruined my life forever, this guy appeared, seemingly out of the blue.” He looked across the table at Earl. “I’d gotten myself into a lot of trouble. Then one day I was in a car with a guy who decides to rob a convenience store. I didn’t know what he planned, but I was with him, which made me guilty. Got picked up and was about to be thrown in jail...”

  “Then this guy from the Chronicle shows up,” Earl added with a smile. “Anybody with any sense could’ve seen—and do
ne—what I did. The boy was innocent, only ten or eleven or so, and just needed a fresh start.”

  Caleb swallowed hard and looked away.

  Down at the end of the table, Clementine beamed at them all. “You see,” she said. “There are angels all around us. We just don’t know when they’ll show up next.”

  “You may not know,” Hyacinth said, pulling out a ruled pad, pen, and a gavel, which she rapped on the table, “but I’ve got some great new ideas. The social part of this meeting is over. It’s time to get down to business.”

  The others pulled out similar pads of paper and pens.

  Kate said her good-byes and slipped out of the garden, determined to keep their work a mystery, even to herself. Behind her rose the voices of the Copper Mill angels.

  “We’ll be in touch,” Hyacinth called after her.

  Kate chuckled as she got in the Honda and started the engine. Angels undercover.

  About the Author

  DIANE NOBLE is the award-winning author of The Butterfly Farm and nearly two dozen other published works—mysteries, romantic suspense, historical fiction and nonfiction books for women, including three devotionals and an empty nest survival guide. Diane is a three-time recipient of the Silver Angel Award for Media Excellence and a double finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award for Best Inspirational Fiction. Diane makes her home in Southern California with husband Tom and their two cats. You can stop by Diane’s Web site at www.dianenoble.com to catch up on the latest about her books, favorite recipes, crochet patterns and much more.

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