Bells, Rings & Angels' Wings

by Linda Randall Wisdom

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Dear Reader

  Title Page

  Acknowledge

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  Tyler couldn’t take his eyes off Libby.

  She blushed. “I think the coffee has affected your brain.”

  He shook his head. “No, I thought you were beautiful the first time I saw you. I know this sounds weird, but I look at you and I feel as if I’ve known you all my life.”

  “Be careful, Tyler. I suspect you might have a romantic soul.”

  “I think I was supposed to meet up with you, Lib.”

  Libby got up and walked around to him. Tyler spun in his chair to face her as she stood in front of him. She combed her fingers through his hair, pushing the unruly waves from his forehead. He kept his eyes on her face as he lifted his hands to hers.

  “Maybe it’s magic in the air. Maybe it’s Christmas. Maybe it’s a virus,” she said.

  He grinned and stood. “I’ll go with the magic.” His eyes darkened with desire, and he lowered his lips to hers.

  Dear Reader,

  Christmas is one of those magical seasons when the world is made up of twinkling lights on houses, candy canes and waving Santas in the front yard and the scent of pine all through the house. What child can resist this time of year? In fact, what adult can resist it, too?

  Our neighborhood likes to decorate, and there even seems to be a friendly rivalry as to who gets more creative each year. One night during the season, we’re out there to greet Santa when he rides down the street on top of an antique fire engine. Even our dog, Bogie, gets into the season with his red-and-white sweater.

  Obviously I love Christmas, but what prompted me to write this particular Christmas story? Well, do you remember times as a child when you would be angry at your parents and you’d tell them that they’d be really unhappy if you weren’t around? Then you might have packed up a few of your things and prepared to leave home. I know I did it. I made it as far as the corner, then I went back home and asked my dad to drive me since it was getting dark. Do you remember if you ever tried this around the holiday season?

  Libby Barnes, for very personal reasons, has this problem where she doesn’t want to be around any of her family. Unfortunately, guardian angel Matthias (whom you may remember from some of my other books) takes that wish to the extreme!

  Family and friends are important all year-round, but there’s always something special about the Christmas holidays that makes them even more important. We all know that—and now Libby is about to learn it, too.

  So, enjoy a glass of eggnog and a piece of my special pumpkin cheesecake and please, have a wonderful holiday season!

  Bells, Rings & Angels’ Wings

  Linda Randall Wisdom

  Many thanks to my husband, Bob,

  for rescuing a smashed disk and somehow coaxing life

  out of it. And more thanks to Debra Matteucci, for

  having the patience of a saint.

  Prologue

  “Surely you can’t expect me to take on another job of that magnitude. Not after I was given the impression that the Brianne situation would be my last assignment.”

  “Nothing of the sort was stated at the time, Matthias. That is just wishful thinking on your part. It has been known for some time you have hoped for a seat on the Council of Elders.”

  Matthias was incapable of hate, but he could gather up feelings of disdain toward Lucius. The man could be so smug at times! He had turned even worse since he’d become a member of the council. He seemed to enjoy the fact he was on it and Matthias was not.

  “While your work with Allie Walker and Brianne Sinclair was successful, we felt your methods were unorthodox, to say the least,” Simon, the head of the council, gently chided Matthias. “Still, as you said, it was successful.”

  Pride was not permitted among their kind, but Matthias felt it nonetheless.

  “That is why we are asking you to take on this very special assignment.”

  A parchment filled with strange symbols appeared in the air and drifted toward Matthias. A quick scan told him all he needed to know about its content.

  “This has to be accomplished during the Christmas holidays.” He made it sound like a curse.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Does this mean I will have to deal with Santa Claus again?” He felt panic inside. “The last time we were forced together was not pleasant. I’d rather work with that blasted Easter Bunny!”

  “I’m sure that could be arranged,” Lucius said with a sly smile.

  Matthias tamped down his instinctive retort. It would not do to anger the elders when he so badly wanted to be one of them.

  He studied the parchment again.

  “She is very important to the future, Matthias,” Simon explained. “Her progeny will give the world a great scientist in the next century. It is our duty to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

  “She is a very unhappy woman,” Matthias said after he finished reading the report.

  “Yes, she is, but we are certain you will do whatever is necessary to bring her soul back to where it belongs.”

  Matthias left the council chambers with a heavy heart and more than a little pique in his spirit.

  “If that’s the way they feel, then I will just have to somehow turn this horrible disaster around,” he grumbled to himself as he made his way to the transportation chamber. “And here I thought I would not have to return to Earth again! As far as I am concerned, this will be the last time.”

  With a heavy sigh, he entered the chamber and set the coordinates for his destination.

  “Willow Hills, Indiana,” he muttered. “And to think I once called Babylon barbaric!”

  Chapter One

  “Can you believe it? I swear you barely finish celebrating Labor Day and the stores are already stocking Halloween costumes and candy. Then when that is barely over, a body has to start thinking about Thanksgiving. Next thing you know Christmas decorations will be on the shelves.” Maude Chester babbled on as she took each item out of the basket and ran it along the infrared scanner. The total showed up on the register screen. “Here we go, hon—forty-three eighty-six.” She leaned closer to study her customer. “You better not be on a diet, Libby Barnes, because I swear a breath of wind could blow you away now.”

  Libby stretched her lips in a smile that felt as false as she was sure it looked.

  “With all the layers I’m wearing today I’m surprised you can see more than my face,” she commented, using her ATM card to pay for the groceries.

  Maude nodded. “I can see enough of you to tell you’re not eating properly. That boy should be filling you up with good food. You’ll need some insulation for winter.”

  Libby smiled and shook her head.

  “You worry too much, Maude.” She pushed the cart out of the store and into the parking lot. Even though she was out of earshot, she could easily guess what Maude was saying to the next customer.

  Poor Libby, losing a child the way she did. The little girl was only a few months old
, too. Libby never did get over it. And if you look at that handsome husband of hers you can tell it’s been just as rough on him. Such a lovely couple. She really needs to think about having another baby instead of spending so much time at the cemetery the way she does. Watching over her dead baby won’t bring that little darling back…

  Libby chanced a quick look over her shoulder. Maude was talking fast and furiously to Mrs. Anders, and from the sad expressions on their faces she knew she was right. She was the focus of their conversation.

  “Gossipy old biddies.” She unlocked the trunk of her Honda and placed the grocery bags inside.

  “You’d think they’d have better things to do than plan other people’s lives.”

  Libby wrapped her jacket more tightly around her as she climbed into her car. For a moment, her eyes focused on the small portrait hanging from the rearview mirror. The clear plastic rectangle swung gently to and fro. A tiny face with rosebud lips looked back at her. The baby’s face was pink, with minuscule eyes scrunched up as if sleep was the most important part of her life. Doll-like fists bunched up by her chin.

  She never had a chance.

  Libby took a deep breath and started up the car. She smiled and waved at anyone who waved at her and made her way out of the parking lot as quickly as possible.

  She wasn’t comfortable in public now. Where once she’d enjoyed going out and being with her friends, she now went out only when it was absolutely necessary. She preferred the quiet of the house, where she could be alone with her thoughts. Where she could reflect on the events of the past year that had shaped her life. A life some said was no life at all.

  She’d taken a leave of absence from her job as a preschool teacher. Looking at faces of little girls would have been too painful for her when her own daughter would never have a chance to grow up. It was easier to stay home and think of how things might have been.

  She drove into the garage and climbed out. Carrying a bag in each arm, she stepped into the kitchen. The warmth of the room was welcome after the frigid air outside.

  “And what have you been up to while I was gone?” she asked as she set the bags on the counter. A fluffy black cat with brilliant green eyes looked up and purred his reply with haughty disdain, as if he hated being disturbed by a mere human.

  “No, Khan, I didn’t forget your food,” she told the cat as she emptied the bags and took off her coat, draping it over the back of a chair. “And as soon as I put the roast in the oven, I’ll feed you. I promise.”

  Her movements were sure and easy as she assembled the ingredients for dinner. Not one motion was wasted during her work. She could have been a well-tuned robot.

  HOW LONG HAD IT BEEN since he had come home to hear music and laughter ringing throughout the house? How many times had he driven home wondering what he’d walk in and find? Would it be classical music or rock and roll greeting him? Would Libby welcome him with a deep curtsy or entice him into a jitterbug? It never mattered, because he loved all the facets that made up Libby Bennett Barnes.

  Now Tyler could only pray as he walked inside their home. No music today. All he heard was the muted sounds of pots and pans clattering on the stove and Libby periodically saying something to the cat.

  The laughter and music were gone. When their daughter died, Tyler felt as if Libby had died with her.

  He took a deep breath as he hung his jacket in the closet and unlaced his work boots.

  “Hey, what are you doing in there? Burning old, moldy clothes?” he bellowed, in hopes of getting a rise out of her.

  “That’s not funny, Tyler.”

  His mouth turned downward. Close, but not close enough. He thought about the past, when the old Libby would have bantered back with a description of roasting his jeans, and how his socks would make a lovely piecrust.

  Their jokes had disappeared with the music and laughter. The woman with the sunny nature was gone, replaced by a wan creature who treated mirth like a sin. Happiness simply wasn’t allowed. That part of her had been gone since…

  Pain radiated through him like a hot knife as memories swamped him. Fast-moving images of Libby holding up the baby.

  Of many evenings they had been content to just stand by the crib and watch her sleep. Of the times they’d lie in bed with Sara bundled up between them and laughingly plan her future.

  She’ll find a new galaxy out there. Or she’ll be the first woman president. Then they’d say there was no reason why she couldn’t do both!

  Then came the morning when Libby went into the nursery to get her up and their little angel’s eyes didn’t open. And never would. Libby’s screams still lived in his mind.

  Tyler went into the bathroom to wash up for dinner.

  “I made a stew,” Libby said by way of greeting when he walked into the kitchen.

  “It smells good.” Tyler secretly hated himself for mouthing clichés instead of just coming out and saying what he wanted to say.

  He wanted to yell at Libby and shake her out of the cocoon she’d wrapped herself up in. He wanted his wife back, the woman he’d fallen in love with. He wanted her to remember that he hurt, too. At times he had hurt so much he didn’t think he could go on. But after a while, he’d told himself that they had to get on with the business of living. Their lives hadn’t stopped when little Sara’s heart stopped beating. The only trouble was, Tyler was having trouble convincing Libby of that. She seemed to remain in limbo.

  “How was your day?” he asked, reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of beer. He snapped off the cap and drank thirstily.

  “Nothing special.” She didn’t look at him as she replied.

  Tyler thought about times when she’d regaled him with stories about her students, or later on, with everything new Sara had done that day.

  “It looks like we’ll get the contract for the new high school,” he told her with forced enthusiasm as he pulled bowls and silverware out of cabinets and drawers.

  From the day they were first married, they’d shared housekeeping chores. He set the bowls, one a bright turquoise and the other a deep rosepink, on the table. He remembered how much he’d teased her when she’d talked him into buying the brightly colored Fiesta ware. She told him that the festive-looking dinnerware would make their meals seem like a party. And if there was something the old Libby could do it was make any meal of the day seem like a party.

  He missed those times.

  “They’re going to build it over on Waverly, where Ray’s hardware store used to be.”

  Libby nodded as she ladled stew into the two bowls and set a covered basket of warm French bread on the table.

  “I guess that must make Fred happy,” she murmured. Fred was Tyler’s boss, the owner of the construction firm Tyler worked for.

  “There’s work we can do before the snow comes,” he replied, digging into the stew. “I also want to finish insulating the attic before the weather gets too cold. Frank and Harvey said they’d come over and help.”

  Libby nodded and just continued to eat, taking tiny bites of her food.

  Tyler swallowed a sigh. They had bought the house more than a year ago, when Libby’s belly was softly rounded and they were looking at a future bright with promise. The house was more expensive than their budget had allowed for, and a fixer-upper to boot, but they hadn’t minded. Where some might have seen a two-story clunker complete with a leaky basement, Libby and Tyler visualized the large backyard filled with shiny, new playground equipment and children running all through the spacious house.

  Now, most of the rooms sported either new paint or wallpaper on the walls, but the only room that was completely finished was one with a door firmly closed and rarely opened. It didn’t matter. Tyler could envision its content perfectly.

  A lovely white crib with a Bugs Bunny mobile hanging overhead. A large, cream-colored teddy bear sat in a corner of the crib. Beneath him the mattress was covered with a bright yellow, pink, blue and green woven blanket. Nearby stood the changing
table, decorated with the same brightly colored border wallpaper as the walls. A teddy bear night-light that doubled as a music box lay on a small white table near the crib to keep all the bad dreams away.

  It was the first room they had furnished after they moved in. Libby had wanted the nursery ready for its occupant the moment she came home from the hospital. No matter if their own bedroom was a nightmare of purple wallpaper that belonged in a carnival fun house or the living room walls were painted a dark brown that Libby used to joke made them look like the inside of a mud hut. The nursery took priority.

  A lump the size of Alaska settled in Tyler’s throat. He set his spoon down and took a swallow of beer in hopes of drowning that lump.

  “I saw Marie today. She wants us to come over Saturday for dinner. She’s already planning Thanksgiving dinner,” he commented. “She also said you haven’t called her recently.”

  Libby didn’t look up from her food. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Too busy to talk to your mother? The woman you’ve always talked to on a daily basis? What are you too busy doing, Libby? Sitting in this house, refusing to talk to anyone, just sitting in the silence.”

  Her eyes glimmered with tears as she looked up at him. “Why should I leave the house? There’s nothing out there for me. Everything worthwhile I had is gone.”

  Tyler battled the pain gnawing his insides.

  “And what the hell am I?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

  Whatever tears had threatened to fall from her eyes were gone as she stared at him without a speck of emotion on her face. “Just a man who no longer cares that his daughter is dead.”