Chapter 1
Present day…
If there was one major perk to being an angel, then it was the ability to sample any country, any weather, any experience one desired. That was what she, Eugenie Winslow, novice guardian angel, was currently doing and thoroughly loving it. In fact, it was part of her training. New guardian angels were encouraged to visit different countries and societies so as to better understand the varying nuances of the world’s population. There was only one proviso…no interaction with humans.
That proviso wasn’t going to be an issue for her as there was no one around for miles. Today, she was exploring the Canadian countryside, marvelling at the vast, sweeping landscape and cold, wintery weather. She’d always adored snow despite dying during the aftermath of a blizzard back in the 1920s. Right now, she was bundled up in a somewhat cumbersome man’s overcoat and scarf, catching snowflakes on her tongue like a small child.
The overly large coat was a necessity because she hadn’t yet mastered the trick of retracting her wings completely. She was almost there, but the tips stubbornly refused to retreat beneath her wing flaps. As well as the necessity to hide her feathered accoutrements, she needed the extra-large garment to cover the many layers of clothing she was wearing. She was definitely not used to these kinds of temperatures. At least, not yet. Apparently, guardian angels did eventually become inured to all extremes of temperature, but as she’d only been one for a few months she was still susceptible to the cold.
On entering a field, she noticed the snow was undisturbed and couldn’t resist lying down to make a snow angel. As she moved her arms and legs in the requisite pattern, she quietly giggled to herself.
“A real angel making a snow angel, how silly is that?” Her voice broke the silence, echoing over the barren fields. “Almost as ridiculous as talking to myself!”
She grinned, unrepentant. In her former life, she’d never have dared to engage in such an activity but now there were no restraints on her or at least none with regards to proper behaviour in the snow!
After clambering to her feet, she brushed the wet crystals from her clothing and then assessed her snow angel. Not bad. Not bad at all. Finding a stick, she signed her name in the snow then tipped her head back to stare up at the sky. A kaleidoscope of delicate flakes drifted down in a mesmerizing swirl, catching on her lashes and tickling her cheeks before melting into cold droplets. Snow truly was amazing but very cold. She shivered as melting snow drifted inside her collar.
Just as she was thinking she’d enough experience of a Canadian winter for one day, she became aware of a change in the atmosphere. Her angelic radar on alert, she cocked her head trying to determine the source of her disquiet.
Someone was in trouble nearby, but where? She turned in a slow circle, pausing when she heard a dog barking. Was the animal trying to signal for help or was the barking a mere coincidence?
She’d had no interaction seminars yet, but she’d overheard other GAs talking about their angelic senses. Not having had the training, she wasn’t quite sure what they’d meant but perhaps it was like when a creature goes blind their other senses become stronger or, at least, more sensitized. Trusting her instinct, she closed her eyes and stood very still listening to her inner voice. It wasn’t a sound so much as a feeling that led her towards a river hidden beyond the field where there was a slight dip in the terrain.
A dog ran towards her, barking and then darting away before dashing back to her again. At first, she was startled, even a bit frightened, having had little experience with animals but then realized the creature was trying to get her to follow it.
"Is someone hurt?"
Glancing around, she saw nothing that would warrant the animal’s frenetic actions but she set off after the creature anyway.
Soon she saw it run over a rickety wooden bridge spanning the water. Even as she stepped on the structure, it creaked and she froze in place not sure it would support her weight. That was when she noticed evidence of footprints, partially covered with snow and several broken boards.
“Oh no!” Ignoring her misgivings about the bridge’s strength, she hurried across. The dog had disappeared from view but she could hear it barking somewhere beneath the structure. Slipping and sliding down the snowy bank, she made her way to the river’s edge and that was when she saw the body.
A man was lying on the rocky bank, face down, legs still submerged in the icy water. He wasn’t moving, the bit of his face that she could see appeared grey and snow was beginning to cover him. Was he alive?
Her heart pounded heavily as she knelt down and felt for a pulse on his neck. There was one, faint but definitely present. That fact sent a wave of relief washing over her.
“Out of the way, boy.” The dog was prancing about, whining and pawing at the man. She shouldered the creature to the side and rolled the man over, noting there was a bloody lump on his forehead. He must have been crossing the bridge when the boards broke and he’d fallen through, hitting his head in the process.
“Sir? Can you hear me?”
There was no response.
Running her hands over the man’s limbs, she detected no obvious signs of a break. It would seem the lump on his head was the main injury.
What to do?
She wasn’t a healing angel; most of them worked for the archangel Raphael but there were some among the GAs. At the moment, she wished she were part of that elite group. Working as an archivist for years before applying for guardian angel status hadn’t given her much experience in helping sick or injured people. All she knew was she had to get him out of the water and warm.
Gently, she tapped his cheek. “Sir? Sir? I need to move you. Can you hear me? Help a bit?”
He made not a sound, nor did his eyelids even flicker. There’d be no aid from that quarter.
“Okay, I guess this is up to me.” Planting her feet as firmly as she could in the muddy slush, she gripped him under the arms and tugged.
Her eyes widened. Goodness, he was heavy! He’d barely moved at all. Taking a deep breath, she tightened her grip and tried again. This time, she was more successful and she managed to transport him a few inches. It wasn’t far but at least it was encouraging.
Several more pulls and she was feeling hot and sweaty. Her arms and back were aching from the strain and her clothes were covered in mud as she scrambled to keep her footing on the slick bank. Still, she’d managed to move him enough that he was almost out of the water which was a good thing as her strength was waning. With success in sight, she adjusted her stance and gave one more mighty pull.
That one action caused several things to happen in rapid succession.
The man slid out of the water.
Her feet slipped on the bank causing a cry of surprise to escape her, and she fell backwards landing hard on her rear end, the man’s head ending up in her lap.
The dog, obviously ecstatic at her success in removing the man from the water, began to bestow slobbery wet kisses to her face.
“Ugh!”
Fending off the dog, she stared at the man in her lap. The jarring of her fall must have left her dazed because for a moment all she could do was admire him.
He was a gorgeous specimen of the male of the species with strong features and thick, brown hair. His lower lip was slightly fuller than the upper, his lashes fanned out along his cheeks and she wondered what colour his eyes might be. A quick glance along the length of him gave her the impression he was tall and well-muscled.
The yipping and nuzzling of the dog reminded her this was not the time to be assessing the man’s physical attributes.
“It’s okay, dog. He’ll be fine.” She ruffled the animal’s ears offering reassurance despite her own doubts about the man’s well-being. “We just need to warm him up.”
Beginning to remove her coat with the plan of wrapping it around him, she paused. Her clothing beneath had slits for her wing tips and she knew they’d be visible without the coat. Did she dare risk being discovered?
A quick look around showed her there was no one nearby. Closing her eyes, she listened carefully.
The silence was total.
Positive there wasn’t another living soul for miles, she continued to undo the buttons with trembling fingers, then took off her coat and draped it over the man. It was some help but unlikely to be enough to counteract the chilling effect of wet clothing. What else? Start a fire? No. Any wood she might find would be wet.
She bit her lip, an idea occurring to her, but it increased the risk she’d be discovered. However, she couldn’t sit here and do nothing. With a decisive nod of her head, she spread her wings out to cover herself and the injured man, creating a protective dome over them both.
There was an unexpected intimacy to the position, her sitting with his head resting on her thigh. She reached out to brush the damp hair from his face and her fingers lingered on his skin, trailing over his cheek bone to his jaw, noting the roughness of stubble. An unusual sensation shot up her arm and she pulled away, curling her fingers into her palm.
How odd! It was almost like an electric charge had been exchanged between them. Vague memories of a similar sensation came to mind and she pressed her lips together as a hazy image of the painter, Jonathan, came to mind. What had ever become of him? She really had no idea. As an angel, she had no access to knowledge of a human’s fate unless it was on a need to know basis. And right now, all she needed to know was the condition of the man she was attempting to rescue.
One thing was certain. He'd been drinking spirits. Now that they were in such close quarters, the scent of stale alcohol wafted off him causing her to wrinkle her nose and draw away with a frown. Drinking in excess was not something she admired. Mind you, he lacked the dissipated appearance one might associate with a habitual drunkard. Perhaps he'd only been having a celebratory glass or two. She gave her head a shake, realizing she was being judgemental. It didn't matter why he'd been imbibing. Her only concern should be his present well-being.
The area inside the shelter of her wings had begun to warm. Her lower limbs, pressed to the frozen ground, weren’t quite so lucky and she wiggled her toes trying to ward off the iciness that was invading her feet and legs. Perhaps sensing her discomfort, the dog wiggled under the edge of her feathers and laid down near her, pressing against her side and sharing its body heat.
“Good dog.” She absentmindedly patted its head while watching her charge.
Time passed. The man’s colouring slowly improved, his skin feeling warmer to the touch.
“Sir? Can you hear me? It’s time to wake up now.” She shook his shoulder but her prompting had no more effect now than it did earlier. He was still unconscious.
She considered her options. If she left him in the snow he would, once again, be in danger from the cold. The area was isolated and she doubted he would be found before he became dangerously ill. Was there a house nearby? The man had to have come from somewhere.
Gingerly, she folded her wings back a bit so she could look around. The dog stood up and shook its fur, then nuzzled the man with its nose. Its tail gave a wag. Perhaps the animal sensed the man was improving.
“Is this man your master, dog? Were you out for a walk together? Where’s home?”
Of course, the creature couldn’t answer but it did cock its head and give a woof.
“Home? Is that a word you know? Where is home?”
The dog looked over its shoulder and she followed the direction of its gaze. Sure enough, in the distance she could make out a small building, its presence partly obscured by the falling snow. Well, whether it was actually the man’s home or not, it would provide shelter from the weather. She just needed to get him there.
This situation was testing her ingenuity to the extreme. To all intents and purposes, she was a fledgling guardian angel, rather like a baby bird only now learning to fly. In the few weeks since Michael had accepted her into the squadron, she’d had minimal training; most of her time being spent on memorizing the rule book. When she returned to Heaven, she’d definitely have to ask for some extra instruction. But, as to the matter at hand, well, she couldn’t carry the man nor fly him to shelter.
Protecting them with her wings once again, she sat and worried at her bottom lip while trying to think of a way to move him what seemed like an unsurmountable distance. She knew she was stronger than she had been as a human, but even with that extra strength she didn’t think she could drag him by the feet or arms for the distance needed. Just look at how difficult it had been getting him out of the water!
If only she had a sled. There were the broken boards from the bridge but no way to hook them together. Plus, the wood was rotted and would likely disintegrate before she moved the man any distance. She tucked the edges of the huge winter coat more closely around her charge as she considered other possibilities. All she had was a dilapidated bridge, snow, a dog and... She fingered the cloth. It was a heavy woollen weave. Perhaps...
Before she started to second guess her decision, she folded her wings, pulled the coat off the man and spread it out on the snow then rolled him onto it so he was lying on his back. Quickly, she tied the arms around his chest and then grabbed the collar of the coat and began to pull it in the direction of the building she’d seen.
“I pulled him out of the water, so I should be able to do this, right dog?”
The dog watched for a minute and then, having determined the rules of this new game, grabbed the edge of the coat and began to help pull.
“Thanks, boy.” She panted the words. As she’d expected, walking backwards and dragging a heavy burden was no easy feat. Her arms and legs trembling from the effort, she sat down heavily in the snow.
“At this rate, it will be dark before we get him to shelter,” she told the dog. It, too, was panting, as tired as she was, and leaning against her leg. Idly, she stroked his silky head.
They were still alone, not a sound penetrating the snowy landscape besides their laboured breathing. What if she used her wings? Lift helped her fly, would it help her rescue this man? Lighten the load? It was worth a try. With a tired sigh, she pushed to her feet.
She loved her wings and, as she unfurled them, she noticed they were almost as white as the snow around her. Taking hold of the makeshift sled, she gave an experimental flap and rose an inch or two off the ground and moved towards the distant building.
The dog gave a bark of surprise then backed away whining in confusion, its feet prancing in the snow.
“It’s okay, dog. It’s still me.” She eyed the animal nervously. Hopefully, it didn’t think she was some new, large bird to chase!
After an experimental sniff, the dog settled and she began to attend to her task.
Keeping herself just off the snowy surface proved difficult but not impossible. It took only a minute or two to get the hang of it and soon she was comfortably dragging her burden, quickly arriving at the building she’d seen earlier.
From the river, she’d thought the building was a barn, but when she set the man down and opened the huge doors, it turned out there was a workshop inside. It looked like someone used the space to make furniture which was a good thing as there was a lounging chair on which she was able to set the man. He mumbled something, his eyelids flickering and she exhaled in relief. He was finally coming around.
Outside, the dog was barking and, through the window, she could see it racing towards a house on the other side of a row of trees. Uh-oh. What if someone was home and came out to investigate? She couldn’t chance being discovered.
In a swirl of activity, she grabbed her coat and raced towards the door, exclaiming softly as her wing tips caught on a piece of wood. Giving an irritated tug, she freed herself, exited the building and slipped around the corner of the barn so she was hidden from the view of the house.
With a concentrated thought, she was back in Heaven, breathing a sigh of relief. She wasn’t allowed to interact with humans on a conscious level yet and she hoped Michael, an archangel and her boss, never
found out what had happened.
Ben groaned and lifted his hand to his throbbing head. His fingers encountered a bump and he winced as he explored the knot. What had happened? The last thing he recalled was going for a walk after downing enough whisky to dull the pain caused by his recent losses. He'd set out with the dog and then... Hadn’t a board on the bridge given way? He vaguely recalled cursing just before landing in the icy water.
Looking around, he realized he was in his workshop. The door was open and snow was blowing inside. He must have dragged himself home though he had no memory of doing so.
Slowly, he stood up, weaving on unsteady legs. His clothing was soaking wet and he needed to get dried off. About to make his way to the house, something white fluttering in the wind, caught his eye.
Feathers? How did they get in here?
He plucked them free and, rubbing them between his fingers, noted their silky-smooth feel. They didn’t look like anything from any bird he’d ever seen. Something niggled at the edges of his memory. Images of an angel leaning over him, stroking his face while snow drifted down around him.
Nah. It couldn’t be.
He shook his head and then swore as the action caused him to wince in pain. Aspirin. That’s what he needed. And a hot shower, dry clothes and then some more whisky.
Chapter 2
One year later…
“Hi, Eugenie!”
Eugenie looked up from the file she’d been studying and smiled at the angel who was passing by.
“Hello, Charlotte. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but then, isn’t it always?” Charlotte gave a light laugh and stopped to caress the petals of a velvety rose.