Debbie Macomber (18 page)

“I've discovered the same thing,” Shirley said, joining them. “That wasn't all, though. Stepping in front of Peter when he arrived at Beth's so she saw your face instead of his was brilliant.”

“Tricky, too.” Mercy's voice was admiring. Goodness had to reveal herself to Beth, yet remain hidden from Peter. Not an easy task and if Gabriel ever found out, she'd never hear the end of it.

“Gabriel will be pleased when he learns Beth and Peter are together again.”

“I think he will, too,” Goodness said.

Her mission had been completed.

The candle Joyce Fischer had lit in the church flickered one last time and then went out.

T
hat night, knowing Rusty would have to go back to the animal shelter, Carter settled the dog on his bed. Placing both arms around him, Carter spoke softly in his ear.

“You're the best dog any kid could have,” he whispered.

As if he understood the words, Rusty licked Carter's face. He seemed to be saying that Carter was the best friend he'd ever have, too.

“I'd do anything to keep you. Well…almost anything.” After his father had come home from work and explained that they'd be taking Rusty back to the shelter in the morning, Carter had seriously considered running away.

If his mom and dad weren't going to let him have Rusty, then Carter decided he no longer wanted to be part of this family. He'd find another family, one that could afford a dog and kept promises.

He had over thirty dollars saved from his allowance, which should be enough to get him to his grandparents' house in Wenatchee. He was sure that if they knew about Rusty, Grandma and Grandpa Parker would pay whatever it cost to keep him.

But in the end, Carter couldn't do it. He couldn't run away. He loved his mother and father and even his little sister, although she was a pest most of the time.

“I'll go back to the shelter with you,” Carter assured his friend. In the morning he'd ride down with his father. He was determined to speak to the lady who'd taken Rusty before.

Carter wanted to make
sure
his dog went to a good home. Not just a regular home, either. The very best.

Carter had prayed for a dog and he'd prayed hard. Although he loved Rusty, maybe—despite everything—this wasn't the dog God meant for him.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he tried to hold back a sniffle. He didn't want his sister to hear him crying, so he buried his face in the dog's fur.

“I want to keep Rusty, too,” Bailey whispered from the other side of the room.

Carter pretended not to hear.

“I love Rusty just as much as you do,” she said, only louder this time.

“I know.”

She sniffled once and then Carter did, too. “Go to sleep,” he said.

Bailey didn't answer, and Carter suspected she felt as sad as he did. Even if Rusty belonged to him, he was willing to share his dog with Bailey. Not every day; just some of the time—once a week or so.

Except that Rusty wouldn't be his to share. His friend would be with him for only a few more hours. The realization was crushing.

“Go to sleep,” he repeated and hugged Rusty closer.

 

“This is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into,” Mercy muttered, glaring at Shirley. They were both inside the children's bedroom. Shirley sat on the foot of the bed, where Rusty lay tightly curled up next to Carter's feet.

“Me?” Shirley wore a look of innocence as she continued to pet the dog.

“Yes, you.” Mercy pointed an accusing finger at her fellow Prayer Ambassador. Then she crossed her arms as she surveyed the sleeping children, lost in their dreams.

“How could you have let this happen?” Mercy asked.

Shirley straightened defensively.

Mercy wasn't fooled. “
You're
the one who stopped by the animal shelter and conveniently opened the cage and set Rusty free.”

“Ah…”

“That wasn't the only door you opened, either.” Mercy was on to her friend's antics and she wasn't going to let Shirley squirm out of this one.

“Well…” Shirley shifted uncomfortably. As though aware of their presence, Rusty lifted his head and looked around.

“It's all right, boy,” Shirley whispered, reassuring the dog.

Rusty put his head down on his paws and closed his eyes once more.

“Don't bother to deny that you're the one who set him free,” Mercy said in a stern voice.

“All right,” Shirley confessed. “That was me—”

“I thought so.”

“I couldn't help it! Carter loves that dog, and Rusty loves him. The two of them are
meant
to be together.”

“Not according to what you first said.” Although she made it sound like a complaint, Mercy was actually delighted with her friend. In the past, Shirley had been a real stickler for protocol during their earthly visitations. The former guardian angel always took on the role of supervisor, policing Goodness and Mercy as if that was her right. She found it gratifying that, for once, Shirley had broken the rules herself.

“Just look at Carter and Rusty,” Shirley urged. “How can anyone take that dog away from that little boy?”

Mercy gazed down at the sleeping figures. Rusty slept peacefully close to Carter and Mercy was moved almost to tears by their mutual devotion.

“What's going to happen now?” Mercy asked.

“I don't know.” Shirley shook her head. “I pleaded Carter's case to Gabriel. That's all I can do.”

“You did?” Many a time Mercy had done the same, but to no avail. She didn't think Shirley had gone to the archangel even once to request assistance. Until now.

“What did he say?”

Shirley cleared her throat. “He said I'd already interfered where I shouldn't have. That God has everything under control.”

“So he knew what you'd done.” This shouldn't surprise Mercy. Gabriel always seemed to be aware of their every move.

“I'm to butt out.” She sounded a little affronted, and Mercy couldn't blame her.

“Gabriel told you that?”

“In exactly those words, too. He warned me that I'm not to involve myself in any way from this point forward. He did ask me to stick around, though.”

“I should hope so.”

Shirley glanced down at the floor. “Gabriel wasn't happy with me.”

Mercy shrugged, as if to imply that should be expected. “Don't worry about it. Gabriel knew what he was doing when he sent us back to earth.”

Shirley nodded morosely.

Seeing that her friend felt bad, Mercy decided to inject a bit of entertainment into their visit to Leavenworth. “Want to have some fun?”

As little as a week ago, Shirley would have sharply chastised Mercy for even suggesting such a thing. This time she simply gazed at her. “What do you have in mind?”

“Have you noticed the ornaments hanging from the streetlamps?” Actually, they were pretty hard to miss. The town council had hung large wreaths, candy canes and candles, interspersed with a few unrealistic-looking angels.

“I was thinking,” Mercy went on, “of rearranging the ornaments, mixing things up a bit.”

“We could make all the ornaments that aren't angels disappear,” Shirley said tentatively, entering into the spirit of the enterprise.

“I like it,” Mercy said excitedly.

“Let's contact Goodness and get started.”

Tonight was December twenty-third, and they had one last day on earth. Christmas Eve, they'd have to return to heaven for the celebration. Only one day left, and Mercy intended to make the most of it.

 

Carter was tucked warmly in his bed when Rusty began to bark. The barking became louder and more frantic and it didn't stop. At first Carter ignored it, trying to sleep. But when he finally forced open his eyes, he couldn't see. The entire bedroom was filled with fog. There was a horrible smell. Like something burning.

The fog was so thick he couldn't even see his sister's bed. He choked. Taking a breath was painful.

Completely disoriented, he sat up.

“Bailey?”

His sister didn't answer.

“Bailey!” He tried again.

All at once, the bedroom door burst open and was shut with a bang. Out of the fog, his father emerged with his hand cupped over his nose and mouth.

“Dad? What's happening?”

“Fire,” his father said tersely. It wasn't fog then, but smoke. Carter's dad swooped him off the bed and into his arms. He stumbled across the room, carrying Carter, then set him down and reached for Bailey. Jerking open the bedroom window, he gently dropped her, bare feet and all, into the snow.

“Get away from the house as fast as you can,” he said. “Your mother's out front waiting for you.”

Carter watched his sister race through the snow.

The smoke that was now pouring out of the bedroom window made Carter's eyes smart. He was next. His father lowered him carefully into the snow, then looked over his shoulder and leaped out himself.

Father and son ran hand in hand around the side of the house.

In the distance, Carter heard the wail of a fire engine, the alarm piercing the night.

His house was on fire.

His mother cried out with relief when she saw Carter and his father. Sobbing, she held out her arms. She swept Carter into her embrace and started kissing him. He hugged her tight and felt the tears on her cheeks.

The fire truck arrived and suddenly there were all kinds of people in front of the house. The paramedic put Carter and his family inside the aid car and checked their vital signs. His father had to breathe into an oxygen mask for a few minutes.

When Carter looked out the back of the aid car, he saw flames shooting up through the roof. The firefighters had the hoses going, and there seemed to be a dozen men and women at work.

“What woke you up?” The question came from the man who'd given his father the mask.

Carter answered. “Rusty.” All of a sudden he realized he didn't know where his dog was. Bolting to his feet, Carter screamed, “Where's Rusty?” even though it hurt his throat to do that.

His father removed the mask. “My son's dog was barking,” he said hoarsely. “If it hadn't been for Rusty, I would never have been able to get my family out of that house.”

“Where's Rusty? Where's Rusty?” Carter cried, looking frantically in all directions. The thought of his dog still inside terrified him.

Then the sound of Rusty's bark cut through the night.

“Rusty!” Carter jumped out of the aid car as the dog raced across the neighbor's yard toward him. Getting down on one knee in the snow, Carter wrapped his arms around the dog's neck and hugged him. “You saved us. You saved us,” he whispered again and again.

His father joined Carter and knelt down next to him and the dog.

“Well, boy,” David said and his voice was shaking. “We still can't afford a dog, but you've earned your way into our home for the rest of your life.”

“Do you mean it, Dad?”

“Every word.”

“Rusty,” Carter choked out. Rusty
was
his dog, just the way he'd always hoped, just the way he wanted. Tears fell from his eyes and Rusty repeatedly licked his face.

“All I can say,” the man inside the aid car told them, “is that you're mighty lucky you had that dog.”

“It wasn't luck,” Carter insisted. “Rusty's the dog God sent me.”

The medic nodded. “You've got all the proof you need of that.”

L
orraine and her husband, Kenny, had arrived early on Christmas Eve. Now it was two o'clock, and Rosalie was busy in the kitchen with her daughters, getting everything ready for dinner that evening. Richard and Ken sat with Harry in the family room, watching a football game on television. Two of the grandchildren would come later that afternoon.

This was all the Christmas Harry needed. With his children and two of his four grandchildren close, he was at peace.

Rising from his chair was difficult, and embarrassed by his need for it, Harry groped for the walker.

“You need any help with that, Dad?” Richard asked.

“No, I'm fine. A little slow, but fine.” A bit wobbly on his feet, he glanced over at the two men who'd married his daughters. He loved them as much as he did Lorraine and Donna. They were the sons he'd never had. It was through their children that Harry and Rosalie would live on.

“Where are you going, Dad?” Lorraine asked, stepping out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Harry didn't know what they were cooking in there, but it sure smelled good.

“I thought I'd rest for a while before dinner.”

She put her arm around his waist and walked him down the hallway to the master bedroom.

Inside the room, Harry sat on the edge of his bed and Lorraine placed the walker where he could reach it once he awoke.

“I'm grateful to have this moment alone with you,” he said to his oldest daughter.

“What is it, Dad?” She sat on the bed beside him.

“After I'm gone, I'll need you to look after your mother. You and Donna.”

“You know we will.” Tears filled her eyes.

Harry took her hand and squeezed it. “I don't want there to be tears when I pass, understand?”

“Oh, Dad, of course there'll be tears. You have no idea how much you're loved. You're the very heart of our family.”

Harry sighed, knowing their sadness couldn't be avoided. Death for him, though, would be freeing. “Donna will be here to help your mother with the move.”

“Kenny and I plan to come, as well.”

“Thank you.” Harry wasn't sure he'd still be around by then. But everything had been set in motion, and that brought him a sense of peace. “I think I'd better rest for a while.”

“Good idea.” When he lay down on the quilt, she kissed him on the cheek, then rearranged his pillows.

He'd just closed his eyes when Rosalie came into the room. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she asked.

“I'm tired, that's all.”

She picked up the afghan at the foot of the bed and covered him gently. “Rest now, and I'll wake you in time for dinner.”

Harry nodded, and then, as his wife of sixty-six years was about to leave the room, he reached for her hand.

Rosalie turned back expectantly.

“I've always loved you, my Rose.”

She smiled softly. “I know, Harry. And you're the love of my life.”

“This life and the next.”

Rosalie bent down to kiss his cheek, and Harry closed his eyes.

 

“Harry,” Mercy whispered.

Harry Alderwood's eyes flickered open and he stared at her in astonishment. “Am I dead? In heaven?”

Mercy nodded. “Look,” she said, with a gesture that swept from his head to his feet. “You're not old anymore. You're young again.”

“Rosalie?”

“You'll see her soon,” Mercy promised him. “And when she gets here, she'll be the young woman you met all those years ago.”

“I saw you before,” Harry said, pointing at Mercy. “That night I forgot my walker.”

Mercy smiled. “That was me.”

“You helped me, and I'm most appreciative.”

Shirley, Goodness and Mercy surrounded Harry. “Come with us,” Mercy said. “Your parents and your brother are waiting for you.”

“Mom and Dad?” he asked excitedly. “And Ted, too?”

Mercy smiled again. “Everyone. All of heaven has been waiting for your arrival. We're celebrating Christmas and you'll see—it's nothing like it is on earth.”

Gabriel appeared before them. “Harry Alderwood?”

Harry, young and handsome, nodded.

“Welcome to Paradise,” Gabriel said. “I'll take over from here.” The archangel looked at the three Prayer Ambassadors, dismissing them. “I'll be joining you shortly.”

 

Shirley, Goodness and Mercy stood in the choir loft at Leavenworth First Christian Church for the seven o'clock Christmas Eve service. Once they were finished here, they'd join Beth and her family at Midnight Mass in Seattle.

As the organ music swelled with the opening strains of “O Holy Night,” Goodness leaned over to her friends. “Just wait until these humans hear the music in heaven. Boy, are they in for a surprise.”

“Like Harry,” Mercy said. She'd served God as a Prayer Ambassador but she'd never assisted in the crossing before now. Watching as the frail body of Harry Alderwood was transformed into that of a young man had been a moving experience. His spirit had been set free from his weak and failing heart, free from his pain and free from the restraints of the world.

“Like Harry,” Gabriel agreed, suddenly standing beside them. He focused his attention on Mercy. “You did well.”

“Thank you,” she said humbly. “I'm glad I was there to escort him to heaven.”

“How's his family doing?” Mercy asked, concerned for Rosalie and Harry's daughters. She couldn't imagine what it must've been like for Rosalie to come into the bedroom and find that her husband had died in his sleep.

“It's never easy for those on earth to lose a loved one,” Gabriel told them.

“They don't understand, do they?”

“Not yet,” Gabriel said. “For now, they're looking through a dim glass. Soon, each one will know, each one will have his or her own experience and understand that death is not just an end but a beginning. A true beginning.”

“How's Rosalie?”

“At the moment, she's overwhelmed by grief. Her daughters are with her, though, and their love will sustain her. One or both of them will stay here until she's settled in Liberty Orchard.”

That reassured Mercy.

The music came to a halt and the minister, Pastor Williams, stepped over to the podium in the front of the church.

“I have two announcements to make before we proceed with the Christmas program,” he said. “I've received word that Harry Alderwood passed away this afternoon. I ask that we keep Rosalie and her family in our prayers.”

Hushed murmurs rippled through the congregation.

“Also, as many of you know, the Jacksons lost their home in a fire last night. Fortunately, they have insurance. However, all their belongings have been destroyed. They're staying with relatives in Wenatchee right now, but if the people of our community could open their hearts to this young family, I know you will be blessed.”

“That's Carter's family,” Shirley said, glancing at her friends.

“Ah yes, Carter,” Gabriel muttered, turning a suspicious look on Shirley.

“I promise you I didn't have anything to do with the house fire,” she said, holding up her hands.

“I know—because the three of you were out rearranging the street displays.”

“Ah…” Mercy stared down at her feet. It was just a little thing, something they'd done for enjoyment. Surely Gabriel wouldn't mind. The residents didn't seem to.

“You knew about the fire?” Shirley asked the archangel.

“I did.”

“What happened?” Clearly, curiosity was getting the better of her. “How did it start?”

Gabriel leaned against the railing in the choir loft. “You remember that Christmas tree David Jackson found by the Dumpster?” he asked.

“Yes…”

“There was a reason it'd been thrown away.”

“It shorted out?”

Gabriel nodded. “Carter's mother didn't turn off the lights when they went to bed because she was afraid that once she did, they wouldn't come back on.” He sighed. “Foolishly they hadn't checked the batteries in their smoke alarm.”

“Oh, dear.”

“The fire, while devastating, will work out well for the family. The insurance will take care of replacing their earthly possessions. David, Carter's father, will soon be offered a new job at higher pay.”

“And his mother?”

“She'll get that job with the school district and the family will be able to afford Rusty without a problem.”

“That's wonderful news,” Goodness said.

“What about Rusty?” Shirley asked.

“He'll live a good life and a long one. Rusty will be Carter's constant companion. They'll remain close until Rusty dies when he's sixteen human years old.”

“Oh-h-h,” all three of them breathed.

“Carter will remember his dog for the rest of his life.” Gabriel touched Shirley's arm. “Well done.”

Shirley beamed at his praise.

“Tell us about Beth Fischer,” Goodness said.

“Ah, yes, Beth and Peter. They're going to step into church right now.” In the blink of an eye, it was almost midnight. The three Prayer Ambassadors and Gabriel made the transition from Leavenworth First Christian to St. Alphonsus Catholic Church in Seattle.

The loft was crowded with members of the choir, resplendent in their long red robes. The music had just begun when Goodness saw Beth walking into the church with Peter at her side. A smile came over her as Beth and Peter entered the pew where the Fischer family was sitting.

Even from this distance, Goodness could see the surprise on Joyce Fischer's face as Beth gestured toward Peter. Soon Joyce and Peter were hugging.

“What'll happen with them?” Goodness asked. “Do they remarry?”

Gabriel grinned. “Yes, they'll wed just a few weeks from now. They've both learned from their mistakes.”

“They'll have children, won't they?”

“Three,” Gabriel said. “Two boys and a girl.”

“Please tell me they won't name their children after their characters from World of Warcraft.” Goodness grimaced and shook her head.

Gabriel laughed. “Don't worry. The oldest boy will be John, the daughter Mary and the youngest boy's going to be named Tim.”

“For Timixie?”

“You'll have to ask them.”

“I can?” Goodness squealed excitedly.

“Not for many years but in time, yes, you'll have that opportunity.”

Goodness couldn't possibly have looked more pleased.

“I believe we're late,” Gabriel said, ushering the three toward heaven.

“Silent Night” played softly at the church as Gabriel, along with Shirley, Goodness and Mercy, returned to heaven, where the joyous celebration of the Savior's birth was about to take place.

“Peace on earth,” Gabriel murmured as they ascended.

“And goodwill to all mankind,” Shirley added. “Dogs, too.”

Goodness and Mercy laughed as the gates of heaven opened to bring them home.