Angel For Christmas

by Caroline Clemmons

  Angel For Christmas

  By

  Caroline Clemmons

  Copyright 2016 Caroline Clemmons

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  About Caroline Clemmons

  A peek at another Christmas story, Stone Mountain Christmas in print and e-book:

  A peek at my Christmas story Mistletoe Mistake, originally included in the box set, Wild Western Women – Mistletoe, Montana

  Synopsis

  When a dot com billionaire crashes his sports car into a tree, he wakes up in Heaven facing angels Gabriel and Michael. He’s given a chance to redeem his carefree ways by helping an orphanage avoid foreclosure and regain a sound financial picture by midnight on Christmas Eve—or else. To do so, he is sent back to Earth as orphanage janitor, Jacob Porter.

  After her father died four months ago, child psychologist Suzi Stephens was shocked to learn Serenity Springs Children’s Home and Elementary School faced foreclosure unless she met a balloon note due January 1. She can’t understand why her late father broke the trust her grandfather had carefully constructed to protect the home. She is afraid the annual gala won’t raise enough money to pay the note much less a year’s operating funds. Trying to do her job plus step into her late father’s shoes has stretched her to her limits.

  She’s suspicious of the handsome new janitor, who appears more like he’d be at home as a CEO. Could he be a spy for the developer who covets the children’s home property? Suzi overcomes her distrust enough to allow Jacob’s help raising funds. Working together, their attraction escalates but Jacob has nothing to offer the beautiful redhead. He is scheduled for earthly removal at midnight on December 24.

  Chapter One

  Suzi Stephens stared at the computer monitor. “What can I do next, Valerie? I’m desperate.”

  The middle-aged woman standing at her elbow gave Suzi’s back a couple of pats. “You’re bound to come up with something. The holiday gala sounds promising.”

  Suzi gestured to the few R.S.V.P. cards she’d received. “Not unless more people say they’re attending. If we don’t have a better response soon, we’ll be lucky to break even on the catering. Oh, what possessed Dad to dabble in investing?”

  “Your father was a good man, he… well, he wasn’t the best at business decisions. His heart was in the right place, though. He loved you and he loved the children’s home.”

  Suzi didn’t correct the other woman, but her father had not loved the children’s home. To him it was an albatross around his neck. Had anyone but her realized that fact?

  She believed he did love her, at least as much as he was capable. The same had been true of her mother. Her parents weren’t especially practical people but more the head in the clouds types. At least she had her practical housekeeper, Orla Patrick, who genuinely loved her.

  And, she valued Valerie Barlow’s loyalty and efficiency. The woman had worked for thirty years as secretary for her grandfather then her father and now worked for Suzi. But, who knew if there’d be a children’s home after New Year’s?

  When her grandfather had founded the Serenity Springs Children’s Home, he’d left what he believed would keep the home funded forever. If only Dad hadn’t broken the trust to invest those monies, Granddad would have been right. Dad’s poor investments coupled with rising operating costs had soon depleted the cash.

  Worse, her father had negotiated a mortgage at high interest rates and she didn’t have the money for the January balloon payment.

  “Valerie, unless this holiday gala raises an enormous amount, the orphanage is history. What will become of the children if I fail?”

  ***

  His adrenaline surged high at the exhilarating speed. Jacob’s new sports car was the finest he’d ever driven. As the vehicle hugged the curves, he deemed the machine worth every penny of the exorbitant price he’d paid.

  His phone rang and he glanced at the name of the caller. In those few seconds, a deer ran across the road and he swerved to avoid the animal. Screeching tires set off alarms in his mind.

  As the car slid toward a huge tree, he screamed, “Lord, help me!”

  Jacob roused to consciousness surrounded by bright light. He stood, yet there were no floors. What supported him on the fluffy white stuff stretching as far as he could see? His steps were like walking on a mattress.

  What was that smell? He inhaled again. Not perfume, but the fragrance of a spring flower garden drifted on the air as he slowly turned to peer around him.

  An imposing angel garbed in a long, white robe stood behind a gleaming, elaborate counter. A register book was by one arm and a trumpet near the other.

  “Welcome, Jacob. I’m Gabriel.”

  THE Gabriel? An angel named Gabriel actually guarded Heaven’s gates?

  Jacob touched his chest, his legs. “What’s going on? Am I dead?”

  A second figure strode toward him from out of a cloud, a fierce-looking angel carrying a mighty sword and shield. He leaned the shield against the counter. “Yes, and this is where we decide your fate.”

  “Decide my….” Jacob stared from one angel to the other in alarm. “Hey, I’ve been a good person. I’ve donated tons of money to charity, even set up a foundation to administer those funds.”

  Gabriel nodded. “Michael and I are aware of everything you did in life. You wrote checks to assist countless numbers.” He referred to his ledger. “We’ve noted that you never personally involved yourself helping anyone. You lack true compassion.”

  No, no, no, they couldn’t continue on this tack. “I disagree… um, respectfully. The time I spent working created the money I donated. My time was too valuable to waste.”

  Michael shook his head, a sad expression in his eyes. “Waste? You believe helping your fellow man would have been a waste?”

  Jacob held out his hands palm up. This interview wasn’t going well. “You’ve misunderstood. That’s not what I meant. Spending my time working allowed me to help more people.”

  Gabriel nodded. “And to take lavish vacations and buy luxurious homes and cars.” The archangel pointed his finger. “Don’t bother to deny that, Jacob. Your shortcomings saddened us, but we’re going to give you another chance.”

  He exhaled. Whew, he’d been worried. “Thank you. What do I have to do?”

  “Stop an orphanage foreclosure. You have until midnight Christmas Eve to help the home recover and acquire enough money to meet the mortgage with enough left to operate next year.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, that’ll be easy. I’ll give them the money from my foundation.”

&
nbsp; Gabriel sent Michael a glance before he faced Jacob. “You won’t, because you won’t be going back as the man you were. Your previous life is lost to you. You’ll be going back as Jacob Porter.”

  “But… but what can I do to help them if I’m not me?”

  Michael came around the desk. “You’ll be the same man inside with all your former intelligence, but none of your former friends will recognize you and you can’t tell them who you are. We’ve made certain you have the means to accomplish the task we’ve assigned you.”

  Maybe he was dreaming and these crazy men were a nightmare. “Start with nothing—and save an orphanage?”

  “You founded a successful business with only intelligence and hard work. You’ll need to use those same skills to manage this assignment.”

  Panic struck again. “Christmas Eve is only a month away. How can I raise the money by then if I won’t be myself?”

  “We’re willing to give you the opportunity. You’ll report to the orphanage office as their new employee.” Gabriel pointed his finger at Jacob’s chest. “We’ve stuck our necks out for you pleading your case. Don’t disappoint us, Jacob.”

  The next instant, Jacob was on Earth and standing in front of a large brick building. Carved into the granite lintel were the words Serenity Springs Children’s Home. He was dressed in tan twill slacks, a heavy brown coat, a blue chambray shirt, and boots a mechanic or janitor might wear. Not his usual suit and tie and Italian shoes.

  Okay, if this was how they wanted him, he had to go with their rules. He didn’t even have the chance to ask what happened if he failed. Perhaps he didn’t want the answer. He checked his watch. Almost eight o’clock. He was probably late on his first day.

  Jacob strode into the building and entered the first office he found. “Hi, I’m Jacob Porter, the new employee. Can you help me?” He hoped so because he hadn’t a clue what to do next.

  A middle-aged woman at the desk smiled as she rose from her chair. “I’m glad you’ve arrived, Mr. Porter, but you’re not due until nine since you have to remain after school hours. My name is Mrs. Barlow.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a pager and a set of keys. “Come with me and I’ll show you where to start.”

  He followed her to a large storage room. Jacob surveyed the space. He got it now—Porter. Not just his name, but also his job. Those angels knew how to bring a man down and make a point. But, custodial service was honest work.

  “This is where I work?”

  “Mercy no, this is where your supplies are stored.”

  The room included a small table, two chairs, a wall of shelves, a large sink, and far more equipment than he wanted to become familiar with. The odor of cleaning products filled the room. Recognizing a floor polisher, a vacuum cleaner, and a mop bucket, he wondered if he’d know how to use the other paraphernalia in the space.

  She tapped one of two pages in plastic sleeves taped to the wall over the light switch. “Here’s a map of the building and next to it is a schedule of what to do where and when. You won’t have any trouble figuring out the instructions.”

  Mrs. Barlow gestured to what was obviously a furnace. “Our heating system, The Beast, is troublesome and we’re praying he lasts the winter. We hope by then we’ll have funds to replace the thing.”

  He stared at the mechanism she’d called “The Beast”. How was he supposed to keep the furnace functioning? He was a computer guru, but he didn’t do mechanics.

  She gave him the pager. “This is so staff can call you. Children have a lot of accidents, Mr. Porter, which is why your predecessor left. He was quite unkind to any child who caused him extra work, but that goes with the job.”

  “Okay, thanks.” He removed his jacket and hung it on a hook then clipped the pager onto his belt.

  She handed over the set of keys. “These open each of the doors on campus. Please leave them open or closed as you found them.”

  “Do I get an hour for lunch? Breaks?”

  She nodded toward the wall. “Those are covered on the schedule I showed you. You probably noticed on your way here that there are no restaurants or fast food places nearby. You can bring your lunch or eat in the cafeteria. The food is well-prepared, but somewhat plain fare.”

  “Guess I’ll eat in the cafeteria today.” Did he have any cash?

  “If you have any questions, ask me or Dr. Stephens.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Barlow. I appreciate your assistance.” He only wished she could help with more answers. Like, did he have a car and where did he live?

  When she’d gone, he took a wallet from his hip pocket. Inside he found forty dollars in cash. There was a driver’s license that gave an address and his own birth date. Clever guys, clever.

  When he stuck his hands in his front pants’ pockets, he found keys, coins, and a clean handkerchief. At least he had a way to get to the address on his driver’s license and open the front door. That is, if he could figure out which car he was supposed to use to get there.

  Emptying wastebaskets should be an easy way to scout out the place. Exhaling his displeasure and puzzlement at his current situation, he pushed the big trash cart out of the room. From fabulous homes and a penthouse office with hundreds of employees to bottom of the totem-pole janitor was a hard demotion to swallow.

  But he was alive—at least temporarily. Those two angels were testing him. He didn’t intend to fail no matter how hard the job. But, what could he do in one month to save this place?

  Mrs. Barlow was away from her desk, but he emptied her wastebasket and pushed into the next office.

  A young woman bent over a stack of papers raised her head as he entered. A desktop nameplate identified her as Susan Stephens, Ph.D. “Hello, you must be Jacob Porter. Welcome to the Serenity Springs family.”

  “Nice to meet you, Dr. Stephens.” Meeting a gorgeous redhead while working as a janitor put him at an awkward disadvantage. What could he say to her?

  Focus. Remember the assignment. He was here to help the orphanage, not put a move on the director.

  But, before he could help, he had to learn more—more than he’d learned last year when his foundation received an application for funds.

  “Do you mind telling me about the children’s home?”

  Wearing a broad smile, she rose from her chair. “I’m always eager to talk about our home, the school, and the children.”

  She indicated a large portrait hanging behind her. “This was my grandfather, Matthew Stephens. He was an orphan who managed to become a successful businessman. With a portion of his income, he set up the home.”

  Jacob assessed the picture. The artist who painted the man had captured an aura of happiness surrounding him. His eyes sparkled with mischief or secrets. What mystery did they hold? He compared those eyes to hers and noted the same sparkling blue eyes meeting his gaze.

  She gestured at another portrait. “This was my father, Jefferson Stephens, who passed away four months ago from a heart attack.”

  The second portrait was not as impressive. The man was nice- looking but either the artist failed to capture his personality or Jefferson Stephens lacked the dynamic appearance of his father. His eyes were not as blue, his face hardly smiling.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Trite, but what else could he say?

  A shadow crossed her expression. “Thank you. I was the guidance counselor but I’ve had to take on the director’s duties as well. I’m afraid I’m still finding my way in the business portion.”

  Ah, well, back to his task. “How many children live here?”

  “Presently, we have a hundred and ten from infants to age eighteen. You may have noticed the ten cottages spread around three sides of this building. Each cottage has a set of parents who function as real parents should. The number of children varies, of course, as biological parents drop off or reclaim their children.”

  “Drop off or reclaim? Doesn’t the court decide?”

  “Yes, in a way. Those who live here are not eligible to be adopte
d because they still have at least one parent who won’t release custody.”

  “Can’t the courts insist?”

  “Then the child would be in the foster care system. That’s an iffy situation because some foster homes are wonderful and others are nightmares. Our children are safe and loved. They can’t be adopted, yet for various reasons their parents are not able to care for them.”

  What a nutty set up. “Would you give me an example?”

  “Brothers Jimmy and Teddy Terry are here because their mother is dead and their father works six twelve-hour days a week. Even with those hours he doesn’t make enough to pay a full-time housekeeper or babysitter. Rather than leave them on their own, Mr. Terry placed the boys with us and he visits them as often as possible.”

  “Tough for him and the boys, but at least they’re sure he cares what happens to them and he has peace of mind knowing they’re safe.”

  She smiled and her blue eyes sparkled. “Exactly. Parents have visitation two Sundays a month.”

  Two days a month didn’t sound like much to him. “Mrs. Barlow mentioned a cafeteria for lunch, so this must be a school.”

  “The children attend classes here until they enter junior high after the sixth grade. At that time they ride the bus to the Serenity Springs public school.”

  “Whoa, that must be a difficult transition for the kids. Isn’t the local junior high pretty large?”

  With a heavy sigh, she grimaced. “Huge. We prepare them and urge them not to respond to bullies’ taunts about them being orphans. That’s a traumatic age in general but especially if you’re different in any way.”

  Recalling his own childhood, he picked up her trash can and emptied it into the bin. “All ages are hard for kids. Anyone who thinks differently hasn’t been paying attention.”

  “Mr. Porter, I hope you won’t be offended when I say emptying trash is best done after classes except for the restrooms and offices. Otherwise, you’d have to enter classrooms during instruction time. I believe there’s a schedule in the storage room.”

  “Right. Today I’m acquiring knowledge and getting a handle on the place and the job.”