Wings of an Angel

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Wings of an Angel Page 12

by Shanna Hatfield


  She sighed dreamily before she grinned. “I decided to take a little walk and my feet carried me into town. I was on my way to see you when I ran into Holly coming out of Mrs. Pith’s store. She said Seth was picking up supplies so we decided to come to the café to warm up for a bit.”

  “And here we all are,” Joy said, waving a hand around the table as Drew took a drink from her mug of chocolate and snatched a cookie.

  “I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll catch you all later,” Drew said, giving Joy a sweet kiss before he grabbed a second cookie and hurried outside.

  “We better get going, too, Holly. Pops will be wondering what kept us this long as it is.” Seth took Holly’s hand as she stood and tipped his hat to the other women at the table. “We’ll see everyone at the school concert, won’t we?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Angela said, giving the rancher a smile. “It was great to see you, Holly. Give Ivy and Rudy some love from me.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that,” Holly said, waving as Seth guided her outside and over to his pickup.

  “Come on, gorgeous,” Rhett said, pulling Cedar to her feet and holding her coat while she slipped it on. “You can help me at the garage for a minute then I’ll drive you home.”

  Angela thought they made such a striking couple. Both of them were tall. Cedar’s light blond hair and sapphire blue eyes contrasted nicely to Rhett’s dark curls and striking green eyes. They would certainly make beautiful babies.

  Surprised by the direction of her thoughts, Angela grinned and waved as Rhett and Cedar departed.

  Drake sat down in Holly’s vacated seat and helped himself to a cookie. “Are you doing okay, Joy?”

  “Getting better every day. The doctor has me doing therapy. I’ll just be glad when I can put weight on my leg again. If I never have to see another pair of crutches after this, it will be way too soon. On the upside, though, if it wasn’t for my fall, Drew might never have come to my rescue, and we wouldn’t be ridiculously in love.”

  Angela smiled, wishing she and Drake were ridiculously in love. The odd look he gave her made her shift uncomfortably on her chair. Her phone chimed and she pulled it from her pocket. Jenny would be back with the boys in about fifteen minutes.

  She sent a text letting Jenny know she’d pick Nick up at her house since she was in town anyway.

  “Nick’s on his way back. I better take you home, Joy. It’s really been fun to visit with you today.” Angela stood and handed Joy her crutches then dug in her wallet and left money on the table to join the bills those who’d already departed left to pay for the cookies and hot chocolate.

  “I was about to go stir crazy, Angela. I’m so grateful you stopped by. Feel free to come anytime,” Joy said as Drake held the café door open and she took careful steps outside on her crutches.

  Angela inadvertently brushed against Drake as she made her way outside. The decadent masculine smell of him made her take a deep breath, until she realized what she was doing.

  Annoyed with herself, with the feelings she had for him that she had no hope of controlling, she hurried to open the door to her pickup. Drake helped Joy inside then set her crutches in the back seat.

  When Joy closed her door, Drake pulled Angela around to the driver’s side where his brother’s fiancé couldn’t easily see them. Slowly, he slid one hand into Angela’s hair and wrapped the other around her waist while his hot gaze tangled with hers.

  Even if she’d wanted to protest, which she did not, Angela couldn’t have gathered enough wits to do it as she looked into Drake’s face. Fiery sparks danced in the blue depths of his eyes and a slight grin tipped the corners of his mouth up as his head lowered to hers.

  She didn’t know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t the tender, sweet blending of their lips. That brief connection left her aching so badly for him that her whole body felt like a quivering mass. Never had she experienced such a kiss, one full of love and hope and passion.

  Without a word, Drake released her then shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn’t even glance back at her as he turned and strolled down the street.

  Angela took several calming breaths before she could uproot her feet to carry her inside the pickup to take Joy home.

  Who did Drake Miller think he was, giving her the best kiss she’d ever had then strolling off like nothing had happened?

  Chapter Eleven

  A loud thump outside drew Angela and Nick’s gaze from their plates as they ate their dinner.

  “What’s that, Mom?” Nick asked as he slid out of his chair.

  “I’m not sure, baby. Stay here.” Angela made her way to the front of the house and flicked on the porch light. She glanced out the window and could see a green branch. “What in the world?” she muttered as she jerked open the door to find a six-foot tall fir tree standing there with a big red tag tied to the front that read, “For Nick.”

  Quickly maneuvering around the tree she stepped outside, but no one was there. In fact, she hadn’t heard a vehicle and no taillights were visible on the lane between her house and the road. Surely someone hadn’t parked at the clinic and carried the tree all the way over.

  She could think of one person who would go to that much effort.

  Drake.

  The man was infuriating, exasperating, and completely… marvelous. Since that mind-numbing kiss he’d sprung on her, she couldn’t think of anything else but how much she wanted another. How dare he kiss her like that and then walk away?

  “What is it, Mom?” Nick asked as he slowly tiptoed forward.

  Angela sighed and grasped the trunk of the tree, shoving it inside the house. Whoever brought it had already trimmed the bottom and fastened it in a stand. A grunt escaped her as she wrangled the tree toward the front window.

  “A tree, Mommy! It’s a tree!” Nick yelled, jumping up and down in excitement. “A real, live tree!”

  “It sure is, baby.” Angela turned the tree around so Nick could see the big tag. “It’s your tree.”

  “Wow!” he said, sliding the tag off the branch then looking up at Angela. “Do you think Santa brought it?”

  “Santa? No, he’s very busy getting ready for Christmas Eve, but I bet one of his very helpful elves did.” Angela went to the kitchen and returned with a pitcher of water, pouring it into the stand of the tree. The fragrance of the fir filled the house with a wonderful, nostalgic scent she loved.

  “Smell that, Nick?” she said, taking a deep breath. Her son followed her example. “That smells like Christmas!”

  “Christmas!” Nick echoed and gave her a big hug.

  She patted his back and led him to the kitchen. “Hurry and finish your dinner then we’ll decorate the tree.”

  Nick cleaned his plate in record time and could hardly stand still as Angela quickly did the dishes and put away the leftovers.

  “Come on, Mom! Hurry!” Nick took her hand and pulled her into the living room.

  Angela laughed and picked up the box containing their tree lights. After she checked to make sure they worked, Nick helped her string the lights on the tree.

  “It already looks great, Mom,” Nick said, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stared at the tree. “What’s next?”

  “The ribbon,” Angela said, taking three large spools of red and white gingham ribbon and draping it like garland around the tree branches.

  “Now can we do ornaments?” Nick asked, barely about to contain his wiggles as he stood by the plastic tote holding the ornaments.

  “Go for it, baby, but be careful. Some of them are breakable,” Angela said, holding back a laugh as Nick took off the lid and tossed it aside then gently pulled out a glass ball that said “baby’s first Christmas.”

  Angela sat on the couch and lifted the tattered old cardboard box that held her grandmother’s Christmas treasures.

  Resolved to plowing through her pain for the sake of her son, she opened the lid and closed her eyes as the scent of bayberry and sweet memories engulfed her.


  Angela lifted out a shoebox full of ornaments Granny had made from old metal cookie cutters and sheet music. Granny had always been crafty that way and could make something wonderful out of seemingly nothing.

  She could almost hear her granny saying, “Make do or do without, sweetheart.”

  For some reason, Angela thought of Drake. Since she couldn’t figure out how to make do with the broken pieces of her heart, she’d learned to do without.

  She took out a set of blown glass bells Papa had bought Granny for their tenth Christmas together. The glass shimmered and shined in the light from the tree and the flames of the gas fireplace she’d flicked on earlier. Gently setting them on the couch beside her, she dug back in the box and lifted out a bright pink envelope, Granny’s favorite color. Angela’s name was written across the front in Granny’s distinctive feathery script.

  Angela opened the card and gaped at the picture of an angel. Not just any angel, but one that looked exactly like her. From the dark blond hair flowing in waves around her, to the chocolate brown of the eyes, the angel bore a striking resemblance to her. A soft light seemed to glow from the angel’s heart, right through the beautiful white gown she wore. Behind her, wings tipped with glitter poked out from either side of each shoulder and reflected the light.

  “Oh, Granny,” Angela whispered, lightly touching the front of the card before she opened it. When she did, Granny’s lilac perfume floated up to her and made her eyes blur with tears. She took a moment to gather her composure. Last year, when she and Nick had gone back to Tennessee to spend Christmas with Granny, she’d known something was wrong, but Granny wouldn’t tell her what. The woman seemed a little tired, a little pale, but otherwise fine. When Angela threatened to call her doctor and find out if all was well, Granny threw such a fit, Angela let it go.

  Then two weeks into January, she got a call from one of Granny’s neighbors, letting her know Granny was gone. Her beloved grandmother had walked out to the mailbox and died of heart failure. Granny had known for months her heart was worn out, but she didn’t want Angela to worry, so she didn’t say a word about it until it was too late for last goodbyes, last hugs, a last thank you for loving her when no one else did.

  The anger she felt then pricked at her now, but she pushed it away. Granny had done what she thought was best, even if she deprived Angela of the privilege of caring for her during her last days. But Granny wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Angela knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  With another cleansing breath, she focused on the words her grandmother had written in the card.

  My darling Angela,

  If you are reading this then know that I’m no longer in pain and your Papa and I are smiling down on you with love and pride.

  You’re probably still pitching a fit that I didn’t tell you I was about to die when you were here for Christmas. I should have told you, honey, but I didn’t want our last Christmas together to be full of tears and sadness. We both needed to make more happy memories, which is what we did (except when you got all stubborn about calling the doctor. You should know you won’t win an argument with me!). I don’t regret it and I’m glad we had those final days at Christmas just to laugh and enjoy one another.

  Please let go of your grief and move on. If I know you, you probably even hated the thought of celebrating Christmas this year. In fact, if you are reading this note before Christmas Eve, I’ll be ten kinds of surprised.

  Angela smiled. “I’m days ahead of schedule, Granny.”

  From the day you were born, you’ve been a special little light from heaven that I was honored to hold not only in my arms, but also in my heart. If your mother would have allowed it, I would have raised you as my own.

  So many times I wished I’d just run off with you when you came to stay for Christmas or the summer. We could have changed our names and gone far away where no one would find us. Had I done that, you would have been spared the tragedy of marrying Allen. Not a single doubt in my mind exists that your mother pushed you into that ill-fated union. I think in some ways, she thought in her convoluted mind that by convincing you to marry him, she somehow got a second chance at life and love.

  Your father, my only living child, is a drunken idiot. How he could be such a distant, foolish man is beyond my ability to understand, but he is all the same.

  I’m sorry, dear one, for the misery you’ve suffered first from your parents then that horrid man you married. The one good thing to come from it all is Nick. That boy… oh, how he makes me smile.

  Don’t fret another second about him turning out like his father. He won’t. Nick is just like you, full of light and love, so much love. He’ll grow up to be a great man. A man who is kind and sweet, and caring.

  I have no doubt Nick will turn out just fine.

  You’re the one I’m worried about clear down to my bones, though, honey. Between Allen and your parents, they tore you down until there was hardly anything left. You’ve gained some of it back over the years, but you need to learn to trust yourself, to trust your instincts, and trust your heart.

  Yes, your heart.

  Don’t try and tell yourself you loved that wretch, Allen. I knew when I came to your wedding you didn’t love him. I also knew something was wrong with him, even if I couldn’t pinpoint what. I know we talked about you calling off the wedding that morning, but you were so afraid of what your mother and Allen would do, you went ahead with it. I’m sorry, honey, that I didn’t drag you out of there before you committed your life to that monster.

  But I digress. Here’s what I know: you’re smart, intelligent, independent, capable, funny, amazing, and beautiful. Any man would be fortunate to love you, and blessed to be loved by you.

  Don’t let the fear of the past keep you from a happy future, honey. Unless I miss my guess, you’re in love with Drake Miller. Your face positively glows when you talk about him. From what you’ve shared, I think he loves you, too, even if you are too stubborn to admit it and too afraid to believe in it.

  Let go of the doubts and worries and fears. You’ve always been my sweet angel, but it’s time for you to open your heart to true love and spread your wings.

  I love you, Angela, with all my heart and then some.

  Take good care of Nick and spend your life loving and being loved by a good, honest man. Maybe once in a while think of your old Granny.

  Have a wonderful Christmas, sweetness, and a happy rest of your life.

  Angel kisses!

  Granny

  P.S. I had my friend Louella paint this card a while back. Even if you don’t see it, others see that special light shining in you.

  Angela couldn’t contain her tears. They rolled down her cheeks in great salty drops she tried to wipe away with her sleeve.

  “Mommy? What’s wrong?” Nick asked, coming over and placing his little hands on her knees.

  “Oh, baby, I just miss Granny so much.” Angela set aside the box and card then pulled her son into her arms. She didn’t want him to see her cry, didn’t want him to witness her falling apart, but she couldn’t stem the tide now that the dam had burst free.

  “I miss her, too, Mommy, but Granny’s happy and she loves us.” Nick patted her cheeks and gave her a sweet smile. “It’s okay, Mommy. I know Granny’s just fine.”

  Angela drew in a shaky breath. “How do you know that?”

  “Jasper and Shep told me.” Nick brushed at her tears with the cuff of his sweatshirt. “Everything will be fine, Mommy. I promise. Jasper and Shep wouldn’t fib.”

  Concerned by her son’s imaginary conversations with a bird and ram, she didn’t have the strength to deal with it at the moment. It was taking all her fortitude not to curl into a ball and sob until she didn’t have a single tear left. How could Granny have known how she felt about Drake? How had the woman figured out Angela would back away from love, afraid she’d make another grievous mistake. If she did, it wouldn’t just affect her, but Nick, too.

  Gr
anny was right, though. She’d never loved Allen. Not like a woman should love her husband. He’d been charming and flattering, but even before they wed, he’d shifted much of that attention from her to her mother. Allen had been a master manipulator and was accustomed to getting what he wanted by any means possible.

  Angela was a fool for not seeing things clearly before she let her mother push her into marriage. She should have listened to Granny when she told her to walk away and not look back. Then again, if she had, she’d never have known the joy of having Nick. Her son was worth anything she had to go through to get him. Anything.

  “So what’s Drake worth?” Granny’s voice echoed in her head.

  “Everything, Granny. He’s worth everything.” Angela whispered, giving Nick a hug. She rose to her feet, filled with new purpose and determination. “Come on, baby, we’ve got a tree to decorate and plans to make.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Drake counted to ten, hoping to gather a sense of calm in the maelstrom buzzing around him. Students raced around backstage, searching for missing costumes, giggling, and, in the case of the high school students, shamelessly flirting.

  The night of the annual school Christmas program was one he generally enjoyed. Tonight, though, he felt as full of jumbled nerves as many of the students.

  His first graders would perform right after the kindergarten class sang two songs. The school had one music teacher all the grades shared, so some of the teachers, like Drake, helped where they could. He’d worked with his students for weeks to learn their songs and the accompanying motions.

  Right after the program, Santa Claus would make an appearance, giving all the kids bags of treats. This year, the program signaled the last school activity until classes reconvened after the New Year.

  Drake was ready for the break. His head and heart were in such a muddled mess, he needed time to sort things out.

 

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