Charlotte was correct. Every day was lovely, the temperature never too hot or too cool, the sun always shining, the flowers always blooming at the peak of their beauty. Topiary trees dotted the landscape surrounded by lush gardens and sweeping lawns that were immaculately groomed. Raked gravel pathways wound between flowerbeds that never needed weeding while water fountains tinkled soothingly. Even the bench Eugenie sat on was neither too hard nor too soft.
“Yes.” She smiled while thinking that, just a year ago, the perfection had been a source of irritation. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been grateful. She’d known she was lucky to be in Heaven rather than the other place. It was just that everything had been too beautiful and too perfect and too calm and… too boring. Just like her life had been back on earth.
Upon arriving in Heaven after striking her head on the curb, she’d struggled to find her place. She’d been assured nothing was expected of her but after experimenting with flying, materializing and dematerializing, and trying on various halos and styles of robes, she’d found herself longing for something to do.
There was a bulletin board with lists of jobs and she’d tried several of them from helping to prepare parties to rainbow management, but none had seemed right. In fact, most had felt trivial in the extreme. Surely, being an angel should mean more than that? Even working in the archives—the job she was most suited for due to her work with her father—hadn’t appeased the restlessness within her.
In near desperation, she’d applied to join the league of guardian angels. It was practically unheard of for a fledgling angel to become a GA—most were born to the position—but she’d taken the chance anyway. Her interview with Michael, the archangel in charge of the GAs, had been a complete disaster…
Michael’s office was impressive. A glass and chrome desk, dark leather furniture, a bold abstract painting on the wall; it was more like that of a CEO for a huge business empire than what one would expect of an angel. There were no puffy clouds or marble columns, no scrolls or quills for writing. As she took her seat in front of him, she decided whoever made up those illustrations of Heaven for picture books was way off base.
The man himself was equally impressive. Dark, knowing eyes, a firm, no-nonsense mouth and broad shoulders. When he looked at her, she found herself sinking down in her chair as she’d used to do when her parents had reprimanded her for being too talkative during dinner or not chewing her food enough.
“I was surprised to get your application, Miss Winslow.” He flicked a glance over her, his tone causing her to swallow hard.
When he shifted his gaze back to her application form, she took a deep breath and forced herself to sit up straighter. Cowering in her chair wasn’t going to help her cause. If she wanted to be a guardian angel, she needed to look the part.
“I see you’ve been in Heaven for some time now.” Michael flipped a page over slowly.
“Since I died in 1923.”
“And in the time since you’ve tried several positions. Not one to sit around, are you?”
“No, sir.” She’d clasped her hands. “I…I took some time to get acclimated when I arrived but after a while I felt the need to do something.”
He nodded. “Not unusual for the young ones. It’s those who lived their full lifespan who are happy to relax.”
She breathed a little easier at the news. She wasn’t a complete oddity.
“You’ve tried being on the birthday party team.”
“Yes, but I’m not very good at baking cakes and blowing up the balloons made me light-headed.”
“I see.” He turned another page. “Your stint in rainbow management wasn’t successful either?”
“Not really. Apparently, I over-used them and it caused some confusion on the human plane.”
“Upsetting what the human scientists believe can cause issues.”
“So I was told.” She winced at the memory.
“Your work in archives was quite commendable. It says here they are sorry to see you go.” Michael arched a brow at her. “Why did you leave that position?”
“It was too similar to what I had done when I was alive. I…I want to do something where I can make a real difference, where I can help people. Something with a bit more potential for…adventure.”
“Adventure? You’re the daring kind?”
“I’d like to be. I mean, I think I was meant to be, but,” she frowned. “My earthly life didn’t provide much opportunity for it. You see, I take after my grandmother, Suzette. She and I had some wonderful times together when I was a child but my parents never approved of her, saying she was too unconventional and they didn’t want me to turn out like her. They ensured I knew the importance of following rules and…” Her voice trailed off as she realized she was rambling.
“I understand.” Michael’s smile was almost kindly for a moment before he began to study the final page of her application. “As you know, most GAs are extremely brave. Regular angels who apply for the position are required to cite examples from their human life that support their claim of suitability. Not many pass scrutiny. I see here you say you rescued a…teddy bear?” His brows shot upward. “Is that a typo?”
Any hope she might have had vanished at his expression. She’d never done anything even remotely brave in her entire life and all she’d been able to think of was her final act, trying to save the child’s toy. In her desperation to get the job, she’d included the deed on her application. Too late, she realized how lame it was.
Her face grew warm under Michael’s steady stare and she bit her lip, feeling tears beginning to prick. “I…I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have—” She began to stand, assuming the interview had screeched to an end.
“Miss Winslow, stop.” Michael interrupted her, setting down her application on his desk and resting his hands atop it. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it and seemed to consider his words before beginning again. “Miss Winslow…er…Eugenie, a guardian angel needs to be brave, daring. They need to think on their feet and react instantaneously to situations.”
“I know.” She hung her head and pressed her lips tightly together struggling to maintain her composure. For some reason, she’d pinned her hopes on this job, feeling drawn to it in a way she’d never experienced before.
Michael paused, then slowly exhaled. “Perhaps if you explained the circumstances surrounding your act of bravery…?”
“I…” A glance at him let her know this was her only chance—an exceedingly slim chance—to convince him to accept her on to his team. “Well, it all started when my parents left on a lecturing tour…” She related the events of her last two days of life and ended her tale with a comment about the child. “He looked so sad. All he wanted was his bear but his mother was in a hurry. I didn’t stop to think, I just wanted to help him.”
“Hmm…” Michael steepled his fingers and studied her through half-closed eyes, his lips slightly pursed. “As I said, a GA has to be daring and brave but more importantly, they need compassion. A warm and giving spirit.”
Something in his tone encouraged her. Her heart began to beat faster and she held herself as still as possible, barely daring to move as she listened for his decision.
“You aren’t exactly a textbook candidate but I sense potential in you and am willing to take you under my wing, if you’ll pardon the pun.”
“Really?” She surged to her feet. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much! I’ll do whatever you ask. I’ll work hard, I promise. You won’t regret this.”
“Eugenie,” he’d leaned back and shook his head. “Lesson number one. No rambling. Please.”
That had been last year. Since then she’d been studying, learning the ins and outs of being a guardian angel. She’d even had a few cases; aiding someone in finding their keys, assisting a child on their first day at a new school. And then that one heart-breaking case… She shook her head at the memory.
Of course, her cases were short and straight forward, only a few hours at most, never anythin
g extended and complex like the senior GAs but she’d found some satisfaction in each assignment and her skills had slowly improved. Michael often commended her on following all three thousand eight hundred and twenty-two rules in the guardian angel handbook. She inwardly chuckled whenever he said that; if there was one thing her earthly life had prepared her for, it was dealing with rules!
Yes, she liked her new job better than anything she’d tried yet however, there was still a feeling of unrest within her. Was it more adventure she needed? More responsibility? Helping the man she’d found in the snow had left her feeling…excited? Fulfilled? Whatever the word, soon after the escapade, she’d hinted to Michael she’d like to try a bigger case. He’d responded with a considering look and the merest hint of a smile, then sent her off to continue to study the rule book. Having only been a GA for a short time, his response had been understandable, even if disappointing.
Now, barely a year later, she’d been surprised when a file had arrived for her early that morning along with a message to read the contents and appear before Michael at ten o’clock. The envelope itself had been unremarkable but when she’d viewed the file inside, her breathing had hitched.
It wasn’t the ordinary green file she was used to or even yellow like she’d received for that one more urgent case. No, this one was red and the sight of it had caused her heart to begin hammering.
Some instinct, whether angelic senses or woman’s intuition, was telling her it must mean something big, something different, maybe even a ‘real’ case!
She felt she was ready, having passed all the written tests that appeared at the end of each chapter of the rule book. Michael wouldn’t have had her spend most of the last year learning the rules if they weren’t important, right?
She’d carefully gone over the file Michael had sent. It contained details about a small town in Canada and she’d mentally patted herself on the back for having already explored that part of world. Yes, if this was going to be her big break, she was prepared and ready…she hoped.
A wave of doubt washed over her. She’d only been a GA for a little over a year. Was she really ready? After all, what did she really know beyond what was outlined in the rule book? Yet, surely the rule book must contain the most important bits of information, otherwise why did Michael put so much stock in it?
Ugh! What had she gotten herself into?
A glance at her watch had her jumping to her feet. It was almost time to meet with Michael and it wouldn’t do to be late! She tucked the folder under her arm and hurried on her way.
Michael watched as his youngest GA entered his office and slid into the visitor’s chair. She was breathing quickly, evidence she’d rushed to make sure she was on time. Eugenie was definitely a rule follower. It was one of the things he liked about her but, at the same time, it was one of the things that caused him to worry. She’d been raised in the early 1900s, a time when women had few rights and more often than not spent their lives as homemakers, bowing to the will of the male head of the household, following arbitrary rules. Such a life could easily stifle the spirit. At least hers hadn’t been completely crushed; her snowy escapade last year had proven that. Of course, she didn’t realize he was aware of everything his GAs did—that was a secret he kept tight to his chest—but it had certainly given him an indication of what she was capable of and where her future might lie.
She was settled in her chair now, her hands folded neatly in her lap just like always. The simple action made him smile.
“Good morning, Eugenie. How are you today?”
“I’m fine, sir.” She furrowed her brow. “Well, to be honest, I’m actually a bit nervous. I was surprised to get a summons from you today and even though I’ve read over the file you sent, I’m not sure exactly why you wanted to see me.” She stopped abruptly and pressed her lips together obviously realizing she was in danger of rambling.
He gave an approving nod at her attempt to curb the habit. “I asked you here today because I feel you’re ready for a more challenging role as a GA. Your test scores have been excellent and the few assignments I’ve given you have been completed satisfactorily.”
She bobbed her head. “Thank you, sir.”
“No need for thanks. I give praise when praise is due.” It was refreshing to have a respectful GA seated across from him. Some of the others were…well…. He mentally shook his head. Headstrong, rule-bending GAs were a subject for another time. Back to the matter at hand. “I have a case that needs a sensitive and delicate touch, something I believe you are able to deliver.”
Eugenie’s eyes widened and a smile appeared on her pretty face.
He’d known his announcement would please her. Would it continue to meet with her approval once she learned the details?
She clenched her hands and nodded. “Thank you, Michael. What do you need me to do?”
He leaned forward and nudged a manilla folder across the desk towards her.
She stared at it, eyes wide, making no move to reach for it.
Interesting. She claimed she wanted a greater challenge yet when one was presented, she hesitated. He hoped he wasn’t pushing her too hard with this case.
“Look at the picture while I give you a rough outline.” Relaxing back into his leather executive chair, he gave her a half-smile. “Your client’s name is Benjamin Davis. Thirty-five. Divorced. No children.”
She took the file and glanced at the photograph on the outside, looked back up at him and then her gaze suddenly snapped back to the photo, her eyes widening and her face paling. Michael noted her reaction but made no comment, continuing to share the details of the case.
“He recently lost his father after a lengthy illness. Dealing with his father’s medical problems and then death, along with trying to keep his business solvent, has caused him to lose track of what was going on elsewhere in his life. The end result is that he has lost his faith. Faith in himself, in humankind, in the power of love and hope for the future.”
“And it’s my assignment to bring him back onto the path and into the light?”
Michael tapped a finger against his lips as he regarded the young angel in front of him. “Of a sort. There are many paths in life. Which path he ultimately takes is his choice. As to faith, there are many types of faith, not all of them religious in nature.”
“But, how can I influence him? I’ve not had any experience interacting with clients yet. I’ve always been outside their cognizance.”
“You are not to influence him, Eugenie. He is human and therefore has free will.”
“But...?” She frowned, obviously confused.
“This case is a promotion of sort. You will be interacting with your client this time. He will be aware of your presence.” He watched as her face paled and then grew rosy. Was she up to this? Her parents had kept her tethered to their ideals, a way of life that should have died with the Great War. She needed experience…experience of the world and of relationships. Something she never managed to achieve while alive but something this case could give her.
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand. I’m not allowed to influence him but I am encouraged to interact with him? Won’t that, in itself, influence him?”
“Use your judgement, Eugenie. I trust you to do what is right.”
Eugenie bit her lip trying to hide her shock as she once again stared at the photograph on the folder. It was him. Her unconscious man in the snow. With difficulty, she tried to stay composed while talking to her boss about the assignment. Fingering the edge of the file she wondered if she dared ask more questions. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to hold her tongue lest he think her incapable of handling the case.
“Thank you, Michael. I won’t fail you or your trust in me.” She stood up and, staring at the picture taped to the front of the folder in her hands, blindly left her superior’s office.
Chapter 3
Ben Davis checked the measurement for the piece of wood he was about to cut. Measure twice, cut once; ho
w often had his dad said those words to him? A hint of a smile curved his mouth as he remembered the man who had taught him the carpentry trade. The smile didn’t last, of course. There wasn’t much to smile about anymore. His dad was gone, buried almost twelve months.
The muscles in his jaw tightened at the memory. He’d done his best to make his father’s last days comfortable, spending every minute he could spare with the man who had raised him single-handedly since the age of ten. But no amount of love or time had been able to stop the ravages of disease.
Ben flicked the switch on the saw, the roar of the power-tool an expression of his inner anger even if the sound did make him wince; the hangover he sported was rendering his head rather sensitive to the loud noise. Drinking himself into a stupor each night was stupid. He knew it, but it was the only way he could cope with the pile of fucked-up shit that was now his life.
While he’d been caring for his dying parent, his wife had been having an affair with his business partner. By the time his father was buried, he was divorced, his construction company was bankrupt and his so-called friend had doctored the books in such a way that there was no proof the bastard had been skimming money from the firm.
Angrily, he shoved the board along the guide, watching as the saw sliced through the wood. When the board was cut, he flicked off the switch and the whine of the spinning blade faded away. After hefting the board to his shoulder, he crossed the room and set it on the pair of sawhorses that supported a similar piece of wood. Together, the pieces would form a rustic table, part of the collection of furniture he was building in the hopes of turning a small profit.
It was nothing like the big business dreams he’d had years ago. At the time, he couldn’t wait to leave this small farm with its rundown buildings. Now he was thankful to even have a roof over his head. Though how long even that would last, he wasn’t sure.
A cold nose nudged his hand and he bent to ruffle the fur of his companion, a mongrel of a dog named Chip.
Untried Heart Page 3