Season of Angels (9781101612170)

by Kinkade, Thomas; Spencer, Katherine

  “Are you leaving today?” Claire asked, turning from the stove a moment to look over at him.

  “Yes, I’m all packed. I wonder if you could do me a favor, Claire. I’ve been trying to return something to the Hegmans, a packet of letters they loaned me to study. I went by the Bramble on Sunday morning, before the snowstorm, and there wasn’t anyone there. A note said they won’t be back until the New Year.”

  “Grace and her father sometimes spend the holidays in Vermont, with her sisters. I guess they headed out early this year, trying to beat the bad weather. Even though the forecasters weren’t calling for a storm, Digger has a knack for predicting on his own,” Claire added. “I think he must have convinced Grace heavy weather was coming.”

  Jonathan just nodded. Digger would have such a talent. Everyone around here seemed strangely charmed—in a subtle, almost inexplicable way. His logical mind was boggled by so many things around here. He just had to accept it . . . and go on.

  “Well, I guess that’s what happened then,” he said finally. “I wondered if you could give the letters to the Hegmans when you get a chance. There’s also a little package for Tess Wyler,” he added. “I’m going to send her a note and tell her to pick it up here. If she wants it.”

  Claire glanced at him. “I can bring the letters to the Bramble, don’t worry. And I think Tess is coming here this afternoon, to help us clean up after the Morgans leave. She can get your package then.”

  His heart jumped up to his throat. He could see her again if he waited around. But he guessed she would treat him in that cold, distant way she had the last time they’d seen each other. He didn’t think he could bear it.

  “Great. If you could pass all that on, I’d appreciate it.”

  “No trouble at all . . . This French toast is ready. Can I fix you a dish?”

  “It looks great, but I think I’ll hold off for now. I want to take a last walk on the beach before I go. Maybe when I get back.”

  “It will be here. You go out and have a good walk. It’s a nice clear day, though a little windy. You ought to wear a scarf,” she added.

  “I will,” he promised, not minding the way she mothered him.

  Jonathan found his jacket, scarf, and boots and headed out the front door of the inn. It was a clear day. The sunshine was nearly blinding, reflecting off the piles of snow. Though coastal areas like Cape Light and the island typically did not get as much accumulation as inland areas, the snow on the island was still plenty high, and Jonathan walked carefully down the road across from the inn.

  The wooden steps were covered with snow and were not a viable route down to the shore. He walked on farther, but the snow between the road and beach still seemed too high to traverse. Not without snowshoes, he thought wryly, though Liza probably had a pair or two of those in her big barn, along with everything else.

  It was windy, too. Sudden gusts blew off the water and drove high, puffy white clouds across the sky. Jonathan stuck his hands in his pockets and plodded on, feeling himself battered by the chilly breezes.

  The sea looked different every day, he reflected, and he never tired of looking at it. He had only been here a few weeks, but he would miss this place. He would have to return sometime. In the summer. He could only imagine how amazing it must be here then, though even the thought of that visit made him sad, his heart heavy with regret about Tess.

  He had never gotten to tell her about Mary Hegman’s letter, what she had written about the strange visitors. He had never gotten to tell Tess so many things.

  After considerable thought about Mary Hegman’s letter and what it might mean, he had decided to put this project aside. While he still didn’t accept that supernatural beings had tended to the sick during the quarantine, he had to admit something mysterious had happened here. Something . . . elusive, uncanny . . . something that was probably impossible to verify or ever completely explain.

  In other words, he had to admit he was stumped. Certainly stalled in an attempt to write a scholarly study that would stand up to peer review.

  He would leave it to some other historian to figure out. Or perhaps he would return to this puzzle someday when he was older and wiser and had more time. He couldn’t help but picture himself alongside Tess, working together, investigating the past, and making amazing discoveries . . .

  But that was not to be.

  The landscape along the shoreline had changed, and he found himself on a cliff overlooking the sea. It was a high, sheer drop, much like the cliff on the other side of the island, which was shaped like an angel’s wings. Only this one had no special contour that he could see.

  He walked to the edge and looked out at the ocean and sky. He couldn’t help but recall his moments with Tess at the very peak of the angel cliffs, how they had held each other and kissed. And it seemed like just the beginning of something . . . amazing.

  He closed his eyes a moment, remembering.

  “Jonathan!”

  He heard someone call out his name, the voice carried on the wind. It sounded like Tess . . . but it couldn’t be. He had to be imagining it. He spun around, looking for her—and saw her a short distance down the road. Standing by her car. Waving to him.

  Dumbfounded, he waved back and quickly turned on the icy snowpack. In that instant he was hit full force with a hard gust of wind. His boots slipped out from under him and he landed on his back, stunned. Like a turtle on his shell, he was immobilized . . . then he suddenly slid down to the edge of the cliff as if he were on a water ride in a theme park.

  He screamed and grasped for anything to hang on to, anything to stop his fall. In the distance, he heard Tess screaming. But all he could grab was more snow, then . . . nothing.

  The ground disappeared from under him, and he felt himself falling through the air. The blue sky and blinding sunlight filled his vision and he said a prayer. “Dear God in heaven, help me. I really don’t want to die . . .”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Jonathan! Can you hear me?” Tess ran toward the cliff and down to the edge, not caring if she fell off, too. She was crying and gasping for air, afraid of what she would see when she looked over. She paused at the very edge, bracing herself.

  Please, God, just let him be alive . . . I’d give anything . . .

  “Tess? Are you up there?”

  She heard his raspy voice and her heart skipped a beat. “Yes! I’m right here.” She took a few steps more and peered over the edge.

  Jonathan stared up at her. He had landed in a clump of pine branches jutting out from the rocks. The tree boughs had cushioned his fall and now cupped him like a hammock. Or a large, soft green hand, she thought.

  “I can’t believe it. I didn’t fall to the bottom!” he shouted up to her.

  “Are you hurt? Maybe we should wait to get you up. I can call the fire department or something.”

  “I think I’m all right, honest. There’s a small ledge under the branches that I can stand on. And some rocks to hold on to climb up. If I go very slowly, I think I can get back up there.”

  Tess wished that he would wait for her to call for help, but she could hardly argue or blame him for wanting to get onto solid ground again.

  “Okay. I’ll help you.” She watched from the top of the cliff as he slowly maneuvered off the branches and stood, balancing himself on the slim ledge. It was just wide enough for his boots and miraculously clear of snow. He took off his gloves to get a better hold, and she imagined that his fingers would soon be freezing.

  She barely took a breath as she watched him slowly climb the cliff face, a yard or so at a time, until his head appeared at the top.

  “Get back, Tess. Please. The ledge is so slippery and it slopes down. That’s how I fell off.”

  “But I want to help you,” she insisted. She braced one boot behind a big rock, then leaned over an
d reached out to him.

  Jonathan met her glance and then grasped her hand. She pulled hard, and he managed to lift himself up on the cliff. Then he landed in a heap at her feet, practically facedown in the snow.

  Tess dropped down beside him. “Jonathan . . . Thank God, you’re all right.” She touched his face with her hand. “It was so awful to stand there and see you fall . . . I thought you were gone. Forever.”

  “So did I. I was standing there thinking about you. About us. I felt so bad, Tess—”

  “I’m so sorry. I really am. I should have answered your calls. I acted like a brat . . . can you please forgive me?”

  He let out a long sigh, then put his arms around her and answered with a kiss. A deep, long kiss that filled him with the sheer gratitude and joy of being alive.

  “Why were you even down here?” he asked as they parted. “Claire said that you weren’t coming until this afternoon.”

  “Liza called me this morning and asked if I could come earlier. I guess she didn’t tell Claire. When I got there, Claire said you went out for a walk so . . . I followed you. I wanted to see you one more time before you left. To say I was sorry.”

  “Thank goodness you did.” He dropped a small kiss on her forehead. They sat close, holding each other for a few moments more.

  “We’d better get up. The snow is starting to feel cold.” She rose and stretched out her hand. Jonathan still felt a bit shaky after his fall and rose unsteadily.

  “I can’t believe the way I was—I was saved,” he said as they walked to her car. “It was just amazing. A one in ten billion chance that I didn’t just fall straight down to the bottom.”

  He turned and glanced back at the cliff. They could both see the branches that had caught him, a soft pine cushion.

  “Those branches almost look like a hand,” Tess said quietly.

  She turned to him. “Or do you think I’m getting too . . . illogical now?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Tess. I found something in Mary Hegman’s letters that I wanted to show you. She talks about visitors in fine clothes who came and cured some of the quarantined patients.” He paused, looking very serious. “I guess that was a game changer for me. I can’t go on researching this event. I’m going to put it aside for now.”

  “Why? You’ve come so far.”

  “I know but . . . I’ve changed my mind. I approached this study expecting to discover and explain what happened on the island during the quarantine. But now . . . I don’t think I can ever discover what really happened. And even if I did, I don’t think I could explain it. So I’m just going to put it aside for now and start on something new.” He sighed and took her hand, then held it to his lips. “Besides, I’ve discovered something more wonderful and amazing than I ever expected coming here. I found you. And that’s worth everything to me. I’m sorry for anything I did that ever hurt your feelings. Can we try again to make this work? I know that we could,” he added sincerely.

  Tess nodded and pressed her head to his shoulder. “I’m sorry, too. I acted like an idiot. I was just . . . scared that I wasn’t in your league or something. So I ended it before you could find me out.”

  “Don’t ever say that. We’re a perfect team. Don’t you think it would be fun to work together?”

  “It would be wonderful . . . and so are you.” She smiled and hugged him close, so relieved he had not been hurt and was right here with her. And everything between them was good again.

  Finally, she leaned back and looked into his eyes. “Are you really sure you want to put this study aside? You’re not afraid some other scholar will come along and scoop you on it?”

  Jonathan hesitated, then shook his head. “No, I’m not worried about that. But if anyone publishes a study that debunks the legend . . . well, let’s just say I’m prepared to write a very strong letter to the editor, recounting my own research and experiences here.”

  Tess grinned. “Maybe that’s why the angels saved you.”

  “Maybe so. I’m not discounting anything right now. Not after what I read in Digger’s letters and after falling off a cliff and living to tell about it.”

  Tess just laughed at him. “Okay, if you say so. But I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  And it would be a long, happy, productive life, Jonathan thought. With Tess by his side, how could it be otherwise?

  * * *

  Adele was upstairs, finishing her packing, when Claire knocked on her door. “There’s someone here to see you. Reverend Ben. He wants to say good-bye.”

  Adele was surprised and pleased. She left her open suitcase and followed Claire downstairs. Reverend Ben rose from his seat in the sitting room and took her hand.

  “You didn’t have to come out all this way to see me, Reverend. I was going to call you.”

  “That’s all right, Adele. I came out to visit a church member who’s ill and had to miss the Christmas service. How was your Christmas Day? Did you enjoy the visit with your son Kevin and his family?”

  “Oh, Reverend . . . it was much better than that. They all came. My children and grandchildren. Everybody. And it was all Joe’s idea,” she told him, pleased at the surprised look on Reverend Ben’s face. “Somehow, some way, he had a change of heart. He and Kevin talked everything out, and they’ve forgiven each other. And me,” she added with a smile.

  “That’s amazing. It’s just what you came here for—what you hoped to bring about.”

  “Yes, it is. My prayers were answered. I did get discouraged for a while and even believed I’d failed horribly and had made everything worse. But the good Lord worked in His own time, and His will for us prevailed. It all came about even better than I could have ever imagined.” She reached out and took the reverend’s hand. “Thank you for your prayers. I’m sure they helped.”

  “No thanks necessary. I’m not surprised,” he said with a kind smile. “It wasn’t just my prayers, but your faith and love. And perseverance. There are few things stronger than a mother on a mission to help her children.”

  Adele had to smile. “Maybe angels on a mission?” she asked.

  “Possibly,” Reverend Ben agreed. “Mothers and angels are certainly in the same category. In my book, anyway.”

  * * *

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