Daddy's Angel

by Annette Broadrick

  Because she was calm, they were calm. Their trust in her touched her like nothing ever had.

  She slipped outside and was waiting on the porch when the truck stopped a few feet away. The gray gloom of late afternoon had sunk into deep shadows. All she could make out was that Rex wasn’t alone in the bed of the pickup truck.

  Roy hopped out of the cab of the truck and hurried to the back. She followed. “Is he all right?”

  “Yeah, I think so. A little groggy, but he recognized us. Last thing he remembered was flying off that blamed horse. He must have hit his head on something. He’s got a he—a heck of a knot behind his ear.”

  Chris had been sitting in the back, allowing his dad to rest against him. Between Roy and Chris they managed to help Bret off the truck.

  She could no longer stay away from him. Moving closer, she ran her hands over his face and shoulders. “Bret?”

  “I’m okay,” he growled in disgust, then promptly made a liar of himself when his knees buckled. Roy and Chris each took an arm and helped him up the front steps.

  “Put him in my room. It’s closest,” she said, running ahead of them and holding the door open.

  Bret began to protest but Roy interrupted with, “Don’t be a fool, boss. There’s no reason for you to climb those steps right now.”

  As soon as she saw him in the kitchen light she knew that Bret was in pain. His skin was a pasty white and he kept shivering. She hurried into her room and pulled back the covers. She looked at Roy and said, “Help him get out of those cold clothes. I’ll make him something hot to drink.”

  Roy nodded. “Good idea.” He looked at Chris. “To be on the safe side, I want you to call Dr. Warner. Have him—”

  “No!” Bret said, then winced at the sound. Ruefully he rubbed his head as though apologizing for the noise. “I’ll be all right, once I get warm and have something hot inside me.”

  “I’m sure you will, but I want Warner to look at your head, maybe check your ribs, anyway. It’s either that, or I’m hauling you into town, myself. You decide.”

  Bret stared at Roy for a moment and realized that this was going to be one argument he was going to lose. He sighed. “Do what you want,” he replied.

  Chris left the room and Roy pulled off Bret’s heavy jacket, then eased him to the side of the bed. He methodically pulled off his boots and reached for his belt. “I’m not completely helpless, dammit,” Bret growled, pushing Roy’s hands away. He stood, swaying, unfastened his jeans and slid them over his hips.

  Bret pulled off his shirt and stretched out on the bed. Roy pulled the covers up, found another blanket and added it to the bed. Rex, who had followed them inside the house, lay his head on the side of the bed and looked at Bret in concern.

  Noelle returned carrying a large mug of hot liquid. Chris was immediately behind her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and held out the cup.

  “Dr. Warner said I was lucky to catch him,” Chris said, standing at the end of the bed. “He was on his way out the door. He said he would be right on out here…before he made any other stops.”

  “It’s a waste of his time,” Bret muttered, then sipped the reviving tea. He grudgingly admitted to himself that Roy might have a point. He felt very strange at the moment, not to mention humiliated. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been thrown off his horse!

  “Did someone bring in Hercules?” he asked, looking up at Roy.

  “I’ll make sure he gets put away properly. I tied the reins to the saddle. He’ll follow us in.”

  Bret closed his eyes. “Make sure he does.” He didn’t remember Noelle taking the cup from him.

  The next thing he knew Dr. Warner was poking and prodding him. “Ow, Doc,” he murmured, feeling probing fingers along his ribs.

  “Yeah, I thought so,” Dr. Warner replied. “We better tape up these ribs, just in case you may have cracked them.”

  Roy stood in the door. “Think we should take him to the hospital for X rays?”

  Before Bret could protest, Dr. Warner was shaking his head. “There’s no need to make him travel that far for tests. The hospital’s full. We’d have to send him back home again.” He looked up at Noelle. “Don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “No, sir. I’m Noelle St. Nichols.”

  The doctor grinned. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. Hope you don’t mind filling in for a couple of days looking after this character. He needs to stay in bed and let those ribs rest. He’s got a mild concussion, and from the looks of things he spent a little too much time lying around outdoors in this kind of weather.” He peered at her over the top of his glasses and she knew he wanted her to understand the seriousness of the situation.

  She nodded. “I’ll look after him.”

  “Good.” He stood and stepped away from the bed. “I’ll give you something to help with his aches and pains. I want you to monitor his temperature. If it starts to climb, call me right away. You got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He smiled. “He’s tough, you know. He’s gotten banged up a lot more than this since I’ve known him.”

  “You keep talking about me like I’m not even here,” Bret complained. Noelle looked down at him and smiled. He felt his heart contract at the sweetness of her look. “Are the kids all right?”

  She nodded. “Worried about you.”

  “Tell ’em I’m all right.”

  “I will.”

  He looked around the room. “Guess you’ll have to sleep upstairs for tonight.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  The doctor nodded. “I’ll give you a call in the morning.” Once again he looked at Noelle. “Call me if there are any changes.”

  “You can count on it.”

  Bret kept dozing off, so that the time seemed to be moving in jerky, freeze-frame motion. He was alone, then Noelle was there. He was alone, then all four children were there. He’d close his eyes for just a moment, and when he would open them he would be alone once again.

  Roy was there. Then he wasn’t. He heard voices in the kitchen. Then it was quiet. Chris came in to report that Hercules was safe, dry and fed. Roy mentioned he was going to the hospital to see Freda. He heard the shower going upstairs, footsteps on the stairs, Noelle’s voice talking to the children. With a deep sigh, he let go and allowed himself to drift away.

  The next time he opened his eyes the house was quiet and the room was dark, except for a tiny night-light glowing from the adjoining bathroom. For a moment, Bret couldn’t figure out where he was. Then he remembered.

  He’d gone looking for the cougar…Hercules got spooked…he’d been thrown off. He could feel the pain in his ribs as well as his head. If only his head—

  “Here. The doctor said this should help the pain.”

  Bret opened his eyes and looked up. Noelle stood beside the bed, holding a glass and a capsule. He blinked, then rubbed his eyes. It was Noelle, wasn’t it?

  Absently he took the capsule and swallowed it without taking his eyes off the woman who stood beside the bed. He couldn’t have taken his eyes off her if his life depended on it.

  She glowed. There was no other term for it. She wore a white robe and her hair was loose around her shoulders. Just above her head was a pulsating, circular light that looked remarkably like a halo. Just past her shoulders he could see the gauzy outline of wings, giant wings that looked capable of lifting her.

  “Noelle?” His voice didn’t work. He licked his lips and tried again.

  “I’m right here, Bret. Try to rest. Dr. Warner said you should be feeling much better by morning.”

  “Travis was right,” he managed to say. “You are an angel.” He could feel his pulse begin to race and his heart pound.

  She nodded.

  “I’m not dreaming this, am I?”

  “No.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking after you…and your family.”

  “I know. What I mean is…you aren’t real, are you?”
>
  She smiled. “Of course I’m real.”

  He reached out and brushed his fingers along her sleeve. She took his hand and held it between both of hers. He had difficulty swallowing. “All those things you said…about other commitments. You’re not able to stay here because you’re a—You’re a—an—”

  “That’s right. I’m so glad you understand. I didn’t like the idea of misleading you about me.”

  “Understand? How can I understand? This isn’t possible.” He closed his eyes, opened them, saw she was still there and closed them again. They remained closed. “I know what it is. I have a concussion. The doctor said so. I’m probably delirious. I’m dreaming this whole conversation.” He opened his eyes.

  Noelle stood beside him in her nightclothes, still holding the empty glass he’d drunk from earlier. The night-light cast a soft glow around her. There was no sign of either a halo or wings.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, placing her palm on his forehead.

  “Like I’m losing my mind,” he admitted, as though to himself. “I can’t tell when I’m awake or asleep.”

  “It’s probably the medication. Don’t fight it. Just allow it to work so that you can rest.”

  His eyes drifted shut. He needed his rest. He was obviously overtired or he would never have dreamed such an impossible scene. Travis’s stories about angels had finally gotten to him.

  Chapter Eight

  Bret opened his eyes and realized that from the light in the room he’d overslept. Again. In the days since his mishap he’d spent more time asleep than awake.

  After the first night, he’d been sleeping in his own room. After that memorable night, he hadn’t done any more hallucinating about Noelle.

  Thank God.

  He lay there for a moment, listening. The house was silent of voices, which was unusual in his household. He wondered where the children were. After all, today was Christmas Eve. They were bound to be excited and full of eager energy.

  Moving gingerly, he got up and went into the bathroom.

  Dr. Warner had come out yesterday and cut off the tape around his chest, but only after extracting a promise from Bret that he wouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting.

  Now Bret looked into the mirror at his bruised ribs. At least now he could stand under the shower to bathe instead of having to wash around his bandages. The water felt good and he stood there for countless minutes, enjoying the soothing massage.

  He also took his time shaving and dressing, refusing to admit to himself that he wasn’t looking forward to going downstairs to what he suspected was an empty house.

  Over the years he’d sometimes wondered how he would feel to be alone again…completely alone. Sometimes when the kids were fighting with each other, or one of them was sick, or a teacher called with a stern request for a conference, he’d wondered what his life would be like without a family.

  This morning he had an uneasy feeling, as though he’d awakened in a different space and time. As though he was now living another kind of life altogether, where he’d never married, or had children—a life where he had chosen to be alone.

  That blow on the head had really done a number on his thinking processes.

  Bret patted after-shave on his face, dried his hands and headed downstairs. He paused when he reached the bottom of the steps and looked into the living room.

  Lights twinkled on the tree. Everything in the room—from the floor to the furniture—had a shimmering glow about it. He walked over to the fireplace, where a fire danced with twists of flame.

  Someone had decided to move the kittens in closer to the warmth of the fire. Mischief was curled up asleep in the basket that had been made into her bed. Four tiny balls of fur were curled into a pile of multicolored fluff.

  He smiled to himself, remembering the argument he’d lost regarding the latest arrivals. Christmas kittens, he’d been told, were very special and needed to be treated with respect.

  After a moment he went across the hall and into the kitchen. Something was baking in the oven—bread, perhaps—giving the room a wonderful scent. He heard a slight noise from the bedroom off the kitchen.

  “Noelle?”

  She appeared in the doorway. “Oh! I didn’t hear you stirring. You must be hungry.” She started toward the refrigerator until he stopped her with a light touch on her shoulder.

  “I’m okay. Where is everybody?”

  “Roy invited the children to go with him to see Freda. She’s leaving the hospital today. He’s planning to drive her to Austin to be with her sister. He promised the children that they could come.”

  “When did they leave?”

  “Not quite an hour ago.”

  He glanced outside. The sun shone brightly. “Doesn’t look as though they’re going to have the snow they wanted.”

  “No.”

  He walked over to the window and peered out, his hands in his back pockets. Noelle looked at his back for a moment before turning away and finding the ingredients for his breakfast. Soon she had bacon frying, eggs on the griddle and bread in the toaster. She poured him a cup of coffee.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked in the continued silence.

  He turned away from the window and looked at her. “I suppose you’re leaving today, aren’t you?”

  Suddenly she was busy scooping up the eggs, draining the bacon and buttering the toast. “That’s right.”

  “Is there anything I can say or do to make you change your mind?”

  She shook her head without looking up.

  He sighed and sat down at the table. Methodically he ate the food in front of him, not really tasting it. When he was through, he said, “It’s hard to realize that you’ve been here two weeks. In some ways, I feel as though I’ve known you forever. In others, I can’t believe two weeks have gone by since you arrived.”

  She sat down across from him and clasped her hands. “I’ve enjoyed being here. You have a warm, loving family.”

  “They deserve so much more than I’ve given them.”

  “You’ve given them love. You’ve been there whenever they needed you.”

  “I’ve been selfish, wrapped up in my own pain.” His eyes met hers. “You’ve taught me that.”

  He pushed away from the table. “I want to check on the animals. Do you need a ride over to Ida’s?”

  She shook her head.

  “Have you already told the kids goodbye?”

  “Not yet, but they understand that I have to leave.”

  He pulled his jacket on and reached for his hat. “Guess there isn’t much more to say then…except to thank you for looking after all of us. I wish you the best of everything.”

  “Bret?”

  “What?”

  “I’ll be here until late tonight. At least we can enjoy what time there is together.”

  He stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  She smiled. “If you’re leaving you could give me a kiss goodbye.”

  Her request obviously startled him. She saw him tense, his face showing no expression. “Sure,” he muttered in an offhanded manner.

  She came to him, went up on her toes and kissed him sweetly. He stood there, willing himself not to grab her and beg. Her hands rested on his chest. He could feel their imprint burning a brand on him. When she pulled away, her eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

  “Please be happy,” she whispered.

  He fought for control of his emotions. He swallowed hard, then nodded. “You, too.” He jammed his hat on his head, opened the door and stepped outside.

  The sun had fooled him. The air was much colder than he’d expected. He took several deep breaths, willing away the emotion that had threatened to overcome him. He’d managed this far in his life without Noelle. There was no reason to believe he couldn’t continue.

  After he was finished outside, Bret decided to ride into town and have coffee with some of the other ranchers. He was glad he did because he got some good news. They’d managed to cat
ch the cougar that had been prowling around the countryside. One of the officials from an exotic ranch in the area had shown up and offered to trap the cat and release it in a less populated area.

  Bret enjoyed visiting with his friends and neighbors. He felt as though he was seeing them with new eyes. They were a friendly bunch who had made many overtures toward him these past few years to join in their social life. They’d never given up on him, even when he’d been his most surly.

  He wasn’t sure what had changed his perspective, but he knew that he was looking at his life and the people around him in a new way.

  “The family all ready for Christmas?” one of the ranchers asked.

  “More than ready,” Bret replied.

  “Your family sure has seen its share of problems this year, Bishop,” another said. “I understand Freda’s leaving the hospital today.”

  “Yes. Roy and the children went to help her get moved.”

  “I must say you’re looking good, considering your mishap.”

  “I wasn’t hurt badly, except for my pride,” he admitted.

  Everyone laughed.

  Nobody asked him about Noelle and he felt reluctant to bring her into the conversation. None of them knew her, anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

  He was getting into his truck when he spotted a familiar face leaving the post office. On an impulse, Bret decided to go say hello to Ida Schulz.

  She was getting into her car when he reached her side.

  “Hi, Ida. It’s good to see you.”

  She glanced around in surprise. “Well, hello, Bret. I haven’t seen you in a long while. How’s Freda?”

  “Doing well. She’s getting out of the hospital today. Roy and the kids are taking her over to her sister’s in Austin. I think they’re planning a little celebration for her over there.”

  “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” She got into the car and closed the door, rolling down the window.

  Bret leaned over and said, “I haven’t taken the time to thank you for sending your niece out to help when—”