Читать книгу Daddy's Angel - Annette Broadrick, Annette Broadrick - Страница 7
Prologue
ОглавлениеNoelle waited patiently.
Noelle St. Nichols had all the patience in the world. Of course, technically speaking, she wasn’t part of the world.
Not exactly.
For several seasons now, she’d been a Christmas angel, the kind who presides at the very top of the Christmas tree each season.
Before accepting her present occupation, she’d enjoyed a multitude of varied assignments…all part of the training for novice angels. Not that people on earth understand the extensive training each and every angel willingly pursues. Many people have absolutely no conception that angels exist.
Of course most people have heard about them, particularly at Christmastime. Whenever the Christmas story is told, the listener hears about the time when the angels appeared to the shepherds, announcing the birth of the baby Jesus.
Because of the special sense of love and understanding that seems to fill the air around Christmastime, some people—if asked—might admit that quite possibly there really was a time when there were angels who actually talked to shepherds. If pressed, they might admit to believing that even in this day and age there are angels who protect small children.
Few people, however, want to admit that they could have a guardian angel, although they might joke about the possibility.
Noelle had never been able to understand how people could speak about guardian angels as though they were a joke. How could such an honorable profession be considered amusing?
At one point in her training, her highest aspiration had been to become a guardian angel. She had diligently studied for her proposed calling and had been given several assignments that had resulted in less than spectacular results. She’d discovered that attempting to guide and protect a person who was determined to ignore that quiet voice within could be difficult—not to mention downright frustrating!
Noelle sighed and thought back over her long and varied career, which had been filled with unexpected twists and turns.
One of her less admirable traits was her impulsiveness.
She wouldn’t be where she was today if she hadn’t impulsively offered to fill in for a friend on this particular assignment.
How could she have known at the time the far-reaching effects her present occupation would have on her own goals and aspirations? Even if she could have foreseen the consequences, she wasn’t certain she could have resisted the opportunity to be with children.
Children were her very special love. What better way for her to be around them than to become part of their annual celebration of Christmas?
Small children still had memories of the time when they lived with the angels. They recognized her immediately. Consequently she had no difficulty communicating with them.
She’d been filled with excitement by the thought that she might be placed in a child’s home and be given the opportunity to offer one or more children a refresher course on love and all its many aspects—such as compassion…and caring…understanding…and sharing…empathy…and acceptance.
As far as she was concerned, one of her most sacred duties was to remind children of the larger significance of Christmas, that it was a magical time when love could produce miracles.
Children came into the world filled with a wondrous knowledge of all things. Unfortunately many of them forgot about the wonder and the magic of Christmas as they grew older, which was why Noelle St. Nichols chose to come to earth as a reminder. So she became a Christmas tree angel.
And fell head over heels in love.
She sighed, thinking of the series of events that had taken place for her since she had become a Christmas tree angel. So much had happened, both joyous and sad.
Bret Bishop had had an extraordinary effect on her. He had stolen her heart as surely as a train robber successfully empties a safe.
She winced at her unfortunate choice of metaphor. The train robber had been one of her earlier assignments as a guardian angel. He hadn’t been one of her successes.
Her record carried as many failures as it did triumphs, although her supervisor continued to remind her that there was no such thing as a failure in their dimension…only lessons to be learned.
Falling in love certainly hadn’t been part of her particular curriculum, but it had happened, even though Bret Bishop was unaware of her existence.
While she waited for her annual liberation from the attic, Noelle reminisced, reliving that time in her history when she had believed she would be filling in as a Christmas tree angel for only a few weeks.
She wore a shimmery white gown with a long full skirt that stood stiffly in a full circle around her. Her white-blond hair fell in waves to her waist and framed her face. A twinkling halo of brilliants encircled her head and in her left hand she carried a tiny, star-tipped wand.
For several days she’d entertained herself by sending waves of loving energy to the children who walked through the aisles of the department store where she was displayed. Rarely did she notice the adults until the day she heard someone say, “Bret, would you look at this?”
A young woman with short black curls framing her face paused in front of the tree ornament section where Noelle was prominently displayed. The man beside her obligingly glanced at Noelle.
Noelle looked back…and was a goner.
The first thing she noticed about Bret Bishop was his happiness. He glowed with it, especially whenever he looked at the woman beside him.
He was young, Noelle noted. A very fine specimen of manhood—his body perfectly proportioned, his face filled with integrity.
Noelle was certain she knew him…or had known him from some other dimension in space and time. Her reaction was much too strong not to have been forged in an earlier reality.
“She’s something, isn’t she, Patti?” he responded. His deep voice caused shivers along Noelle’s spine.
“Wouldn’t she be beautiful on top of our tree?”
Bret smiled, his teasing filled with love. “Honey, I don’t know quite how to tell you this,” he drawled, “but that angel, small as she is, would dwarf our puny li’l ol’ tree.”
“Then let’s get a bigger tree,” Patti promptly suggested.
“You’re the one who said a miniature fir tree was all the two of us needed this year.”
Patti looked up at him with an impish grin. “I know. I was thinking about this being our first Christmas.” She touched his arm, her gaze imploring. “Darling, someday we’ll have a family. Can’t you just picture that little angel sitting on top of a tree, with all our children gathered around?”
He slipped his arm around her waist and tugged her closer to his side, placing a light kiss on her nose.
“A-a-l-ll our children?” he repeated, chuckling. “Sounds like you’re planning to have dozens.”
She tucked her fingers into the side belt loops of his snug-fitting jeans and peered up at him through her thick lashes. “I have a hunch that we have so much love to share we’re going to want a houseful of babies, honey.”
Bret’s response to her throaty, deliberately provocative comment was laughter—rich, exuberant and filled with joy.
How could Noelle have resisted falling in love?
All right, so this couple didn’t have children. So what? They were young, probably newlyweds and they understood what love and life and Christmas were truly about. Noelle hoped they would buy her, regardless of the size of their present tree. She wanted to be a part of their lives, to oversee a family that would grow and become an integral part of her present existence.
She also hoped to find a niche in the life of Bret Bishop. She would be content to see him each year, content to be a tiny part of his world.
Noelle got her wish. Bret and Patti took her home that very day, to a two-room apartment near the campus where he was attending his last year of college.
During that first Christmas season with Bret and Patti, Noelle learned of their hopes and dreams as they sat in front of the lighted tree each night and discussed plans for their future.
She discovered that Bret had been born on a ranch in central Texas. Patti had grown up nearby. They had been friends all their lives. Neither one had ever considered living anywhere other than in the familiar hills of central Texas.
When Bret’s grandfather died when Bret was eighteen, he left his ranching property to his grandson. However, Bret’s father had insisted that Bret get his education—learn the latest about agriculture and livestock breeding—before taking over the actual running of the place. Bret had married Patti the summer before his senior year knowing that as soon as he graduated, they would move to the ranch and live there full-time.
Patti had finished a two-year course of her own and had found a job in the college town until her husband finished with his schooling. Their apartment was like a dollhouse. Life for them their first year seemed almost like playing and not at all like being married. The small apartment often rang with their laughter.
Noelle blessed their first Christmas together and patiently waited throughout the next year, and all the years that followed, to spend those few very special weeks with her newly expanding family.
First came Chris, a stocky little boy with his mother’s gray eyes and his father’s flashing smile.
Two years later Brenda appeared, full of bounce and seemingly unlimited energy. She had her father’s light brown hair and golden eyes.
Eventually Sally arrived—tiny, but with a strong will and healthy lungs.
Noelle introduced herself to each one of the children and explained to them who she was and why she was a part of their household. As the years passed, each child came to her to share secret wishes and cherished dreams. She watched as each one grew older until first Chris, then eventually Brenda and Sally forgot how to speak with her…and how to listen for her voice.
Noelle would never forget the year when Bret and Patti were decorating the newest Christmas tree and Patti told Bret that, once again, she was pregnant.…
Bret stared at Patti in dismay. “Pregnant? But you can’t be! Didn’t the doctor say—”
Patti went up on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around his neck. “What do you mean, I can’t be?” she whispered with a smile. “Is your memory already slipping, cowboy? Do I have to go into detail exactly when and how this happened?” She kissed him in her very special way.
She managed to distract him, as usual, but only for a few moments. When he pulled away from her, he was frowning. “How can you joke about it, honey? How could you forget about the rough time you had when you carried Sally? The doctor told us then that—”
She covered his mouth with her hand. “I know what the doctor said, Bret. But lots of things have changed. Sally is almost five, so my body’s had plenty of time to rest and recuperate. Besides, there’s been all kinds of medical advances since my last pregnancy. I’m not worried and I don’t want you to be, either.” She danced away from him, threw her arms wide and turned in a circle. “I’m so excited. Just think! We’re going to have another Bishop to love. Sally will start preschool in the spring. By fall she’ll be ready for the first grade. The house will be so empty.”
She paused and looked around the room with all its boxes of decorations. “Just think, Bret. This time next year we’ll have a baby in our home once again, one who’ll be dazzled by all the lights and color.” She returned to Bret’s side and brushed her fingers against his cheek. “Please be happy, honey. I know it’s a bit of a shock, but I didn’t want to say anything to you until I found out for sure. I wanted my news to be a special Christmas surprise for everybody.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and tears filled her eyes. “I can’t think of anything I want more than to have another one of your children to love.”
He took her hand and gently placed a kiss in her palm. “Honey, if this is what you want, then I’m happy, too.” He gathered her in his arms as though she were made of the most fragile porcelain. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”
“How could I not be happy? I have everything I could possibly want in my life—you and the children. I feel truly blessed.”
He shook his head, humbled by her courage and her determination. “I love you, Patti Bishop,” he murmured, holding her close.
“I love you, too, Bret. More than I can possibly say.”
Unfortunately their love for each other wasn’t enough to keep Patti alive.
She was careful.
She followed the doctor’s instructions.
She did everything she was supposed to do.
But her heart gave out without warning during the delivery of her second son. The skilled medical staff was unable to resuscitate her.
Noelle knew the events of that year despite the fact that she was packed carefully away with all the other decorations.
She felt Bret’s pain at the loss of his beloved wife.
She felt his bewilderment when faced with the prospect of trying to raise four children on his own.
She felt his anger that God could have allowed such a thing to happen.
The newborn was a healthy little boy with his mother’s black curls and gray eyes. Bret gave him the name Patti had picked for a boy—Travis.
Travis was four months old his first Christmas. If the older children hadn’t insisted, Bret wouldn’t have put up a tree that year. He found the season too painful a reminder of other years when Patti had been by his side.
The children missed their mother with a heartbroken intensity. Having the new baby to care for kept them going. Travis became their focal point. Taking care of him helped to heal their pain and ease their loss.
Three more years had passed and it was Christmastime once again, the fourth Christmas the Bishop family had spent without Patti. Noelle wanted to weep at the harsh changes that had taken place in Bret.
The laughing young man she’d first caught sight of all those years ago was gone, never to be seen again. In his place was a grim-faced rancher with overwhelming duties and responsibilities.
Bret had adjusted to his new way of life in some ways. He’d grown accustomed to being on his own with the children. He made certain he was there whenever they needed him. He planned his work schedule around their school schedules. He watched over them and supervised them.
What saddened Noelle the most was that over the years Bret had lost more than his mate.…
Bret had lost his belief in the goodness of life.
Bret had abandoned all his hopes and dreams.
Noelle knew that yet another upheaval was soon to cause additional problems for the Bishop family. Unfortunately, as a mere Christmas tree angel she didn’t have the jurisdiction to change certain events that had already been set into motion. She understood that every seemingly random event had a positive reason and result behind it. However, she knew that Bret wouldn’t see the event in that light. He would see another burden placed on his shoulders.
She was afraid for him…afraid he would falter under his grim load of responsibilities because he’d lost sight of the very things that could lighten the burdens for him.
Somehow, someway, she wanted to be able to help him—to ease his load, to help him regain some of his beliefs about life, to help him to understand how things have a way of working out if we only give them a chance.
If we only believe.
Noelle contacted her supervisor to discuss the present situation in the Bishop household. She had a request to make—a very special request—one that was most unusual but because of the upcoming emergency, most necessary.
She knew the risks. As an angel she had never taken human form, never experienced human emotions, never been plagued by earthly considerations. She knew there would be limitations placed on her. She knew that, if she was given permission to take a more active role in the Bishop family, she would have to return to her original form no later than midnight on Christmas Eve.
She didn’t know if that would give her enough time to help Bret. She only knew that she had to make the effort before he gave up on life completely.
She had to try.