“Let’s head home,” I said.
She nodded, and we headed next door to say goodbye to Kevin and Lacey. Ellen congratulated him on saving us, and she showered affection on Lacey.
“Do you want a ride to Boulder?” I asked. “The Jeep is toast.”
He shook his head. “I’ll stay here and arrange to get it to my insurance company’s office. One of my buddies in Boulder will give me a ride later.”
Soon, Ellen and I were on the road. While she drove, I said, “Let me tell you about this crazy dream I had last night. Some wild English dude wants me to herd sheep and heal critters with the laying on of hands. He reminded me of great-grandpa Townsend.”
She listened without saying much, and I was surprised at how clearly I could remember the dream. They usually vanished within minutes of when I woke up.
-o-o-o-
ELLEN DROVE HER old sedan by Kevin’s townhouse so I could grab my small, four-wheel-drive pickup I’d left there. Then I followed her home to the ranch in the foothills northwest of Golden.
Once there, she and I finished the daily chores and watched the TV coverage of the fire. By dinnertime, I still wasn’t hungry, but I grilled a steak for her to thank her for picking me up. I ate a few bites and drank a beer. Neither seemed to affect me at all.
After dinner, the two of us headed back to the living room to catch up on the latest fire news. Scarlet talked about the growing terrible losses from the blaze. I had to give her credit. She covered the disaster well and showed plenty of compassion for the victims.
Tears covered her cheeks when she interviewed poor little Trixie’s parents, and my heart went out to them in seeing their long, strained faces. A heaviness settled in me, knowing how long it would be before they could smile again. It had taken me years after Mom died to stop thinking about how cancer had eaten her away.
Then Scarlet showed photos of Kevin’s Rubicon. The cargo area was still filled with blackened branches, and the entire inside was covered with ash.
As she interviewed my buddy, I had to smile. He was getting his fifteen minutes of fame. He gave her the straight story, not exaggerating at all.
Ellen wept. “I didn’t realize it was that scary a drive. You’re lucky to have survived.”
“God, it was sickening,” I whispered and tried to block the worst of it out of my mind. I seemed to hear the roar of the fire as it had surrounded us.
Then the phone rang. I checked the Caller ID, and it was the governor’s office. Pierce was a loudmouthed rich guy who had a series of ethical problems, so I ignored the call. The answering machine picked up, and a young woman’s voice said, “Hi, Mr. Townsend. I’m Calie, a staffer in Governor Pierce’s office. He’d love the chance to meet you and see how you’re doing. Could you please call me back so we can set up a mutually convenient time?” She rattled off her number.
“Never would be most convenient for me,” I said.
My sister laughed and turned the TV off. “Let’s check on the dogs and livestock, then head for bed.”
Good, things are returning to normal.
-o-o-o-
WE WALKED OUT into the warm evening. I used to love summer nights, but spring had been too hot and dry.
Ellen raised exotic goats and sheep for their wool, and they mostly took care of themselves. We did have to make sure they got plenty of water and nutritional supplements.
Then we fed the dogs. Ellen’s favorite was Lightning, a large brindle-coated Anatolian shepherd who protected all the other animals from marauding coyotes, mountain lions, and bears. He wasn’t as heavy as some dogs, but Lightning had a taste for the jugular no Saint Bernard could match.
As he approached that evening, I gave him a big hug. These fierce dogs were usually terrible pets—too aggressive—but Lightning was well-behaved. He was affectionate to us, but God help any burglar who tried to sneak onto the ranch at night.
In addition to her Anatolian, Ellen owned three border collies she used to herd the livestock. They were mostly quiet, smart dogs with endless energy. Ellen also owned a Manchester terrier named Ruckus. His main job was to catch rodents in the barn, but he got his name from how noisy he was. Whenever anyone drove up to the ranch’s gate, he made sure everybody within a mile knew about it.
As soon as Ellen and I finished with the livestock, her dogs dashed up to greet us. Ruckus barked and pranced like a puppy, but Lightning held back from that foolishness. Then we all made our way toward the part of the barn where they ate.
Back in Idaho, Mom had taught us young how to care for animals. Some of my best memories were our early morning trips to that old barn. We’d chat quietly about the day ahead, just the three of us. I rubbed the ache in my chest that always came when I remembered her.
“You okay?” Ellen asked. “I can do this alone. You’ve had a helluva time lately.”
I shook my head. “Just missing Mom again. The feeling will pass.”
Ellen and I hugged each other one-armed as we walked into her classic red barn. The pastures behind it were all wet and green, thanks to a well, but the surrounding foothills were bone-dry. The edge of the forest was a half-mile away.
If a wildfire got started in this area, the sprinklers in the pasture would keep grass from burning, and the barn’s metal roof should save the structure. But what if stray embers blew against the wooden walls of the barn or house and dropped to the ground close enough to ignite the wood? We kept the grass away from the walls and hoped that would be enough.
Some of the goats and sheep shifted and murmured as they crowed close to the barn. We milked a few dozen of the nannies and ewes to make cheese. I took care of the goats, and Ellen milked the sheep.
Then I wandered into a pasture that included young billy goats. Jose had bitten Luis again. It was time for both of them to lose their nuts. Neither animal was sexually mature, but they fought anyway.
This time, Luis had a five inch cut on his right flank, and blood flowed down his leg. I petted his neck to soothe him, but as I stroked the animal, the gash changed.
At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. The cut blurred then vanished, and the blood disappeared, too. The goat’s hide looked perfectly normal. But strangest of all, I saw in my mind a picture of Jose attacking Luis.
I almost said, What the hell? But I caught myself. Ellen would worry if I told her about what I thought I’d seen. I might have to talk to a shrink again.
Ellen walked up and looked at me. “Everything okay?”
“Yep.” But I was getting more confused by the minute.
Luis ate grass, and his body looked perfectly healthy. I couldn’t even find a different scar from a nasty bite Jose had given him a couple of weeks ago.
Ellen leaned against the barn. “I’m ready for this stressful day to end.”
I smiled at her, and as I did, I realized that a tiny scar on her neck below her left ear was also missing. It’d been there for years. I almost reached forward with my finger to touch the spot where it’d been. Something weird was definitely happening to those around me, but I felt the same as ever. I so want this crazy day to end.
She and I walked to the house talking about mowing the alfalfa soon. On a ranch, there were always more jobs than time.
I planned to sort out my crazy mind with a good night’s sleep.
Shortly after dark, I went to bed and tried to sleep. Instead, I watched the alarm clock tick off minutes. The room was dimly lit by a night light, and I stared at a blank wall. Sleep wouldn’t come, no matter what tricks I tried.
-o-o-o-
TO MY SURPRISE, Milton appeared again. I wasn’t tired, and he was more vivid than a dream. “What’s happening to me?”
He smiled. “No need to worry, good sir. Calm yourself. You are not losing your faculties, nor am I a figment of your imagination.”
Despite the reassuring words, I knew he’d just excluded the only two rational responses to him. Even weirder, a mourning dove appeared from thin air and sat on my dresse
r. It bobbed its head as though agreeing with Milton.
“Are you ready to begin our important work?” the old angel asked.
I shook my head to clear it, but the guy didn’t vanish. “Look, I’m beat, trying to sleep. Tomorrow we can talk.”
Milton glanced at the alarm clock. “It happens to be tomorrow, and immortals have no need for repose. Your mind is reeling from the considerable changes in your circumstances, but you will not sleep. Arise. Make good use of the night.”
I didn’t budge. “What have you done to me? I want my old self back.”
With a chuckle, Milton said, “I sincerely doubt that. You see, the human you knew as Gabriel Townsend died in a raging forest fire last evening. If you’ve no taste for the shepherd’s path I outlined for you in our last conversation, you can simply reincarnate as you would’ve after your far-too-early demise.”
I swallowed hard, and my stomach churned. I’d died? No, no, NO! This isn’t happening to me. I’m every bit as real as ever. “You’re nuttier than I am.”
“Neither of us is demented,” the old man said. As if to prove the opposite, he changed into an angel wearing a white gown with brilliant white wings outstretched at least six feet on each side. “Are you more comfortable seeing me in this form?”
Growing up as a preacher’s son, I’d seen more than my fair share of angels in pictures and stories. “You’re really an angel?”
Milton shrugged. “I cannot explain what we are in your tongue or in any other human language. I once tried and utterly failed to convey the true nature of immortal beings. In my epic verse, I used that word, angel, but all of my literary works have been woefully misinterpreted. Now, they’ve sunken into obscurity.”
I’d always found poetry tough going, so I wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t gotten his point across.
I sat up on the side of the bed and pondered my next step. My tongue tingled from fear as I hoped he wasn’t a figment of my whacked-out mind.
Even though I hadn’t said a word, Milton stepped forward and pinched my cheek.
It really stung, and excitement rushed through me. What if this is real?
“Did that feel imaginary?”
It certainly didn’t. “Are you one of the good guys or just playing tricks?”
He recited the Lord’s Prayer. “Do you seriously believe the damned could do that without suffering mightily?”
The old angel—assuming I was still of my right mind—made a good point. Mom had often spoken a phrase that I repeated. “Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.”
Milton smiled. “Exactly. Let us nurture precious fruit so that we may become shining examples for others. You are a remarkable detective, and because you have an unobtrusive nature, you will be able to pass unperceived among the damned. We need you to ferret out their infernal plans. Your first assignment will be to find the demon who started the fire that killed you.”
“I’m all for that, but you should know I only worked as a detective for a few years. I don’t want you to be disappointed later to find that out.”
“You need not worry. I know everything about you. Your apprenticeship will commence immediately.”
Wow! This guy is serious. He was still too surreal, but I had somehow fixed the goat earlier. Something Milton had done gave me healing powers. But he was asking me to accept a huge amount on faith. “What if I’d like a week or two to think about your offer?”
“Unfortunately, time is of the essence. If you’ve no interest in the opportunity I presented to you, you can respectfully decline. In such a case, I will trigger a massive cerebral hemorrhage. It will be pain-free, I assure you. Your lovely sister will find your corpse in the morning, and she can begin mourning you one day later than she otherwise would have.”
The thought of losing my relationship with Ellen was more painful than I could stand. “She’s pregnant, and her husband died in battle. My sister needs help. No! Don’t kill me. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Now I was bargaining for my life, and he held all the high cards.
“A wise choice. She will bear a daughter in three months, and the child will be precocious. She will require considerable attention throughout her infancy. You can serve them and God.”
He spoke so weirdly, I couldn’t understand what he expected from me. “What is it you want from me?”
Milton motioned to the bird on my dresser. “We are disciples of the Light. We confront the forces of darkness and smite them back into the foul depths from whence they rise.”
The dove took wing and transformed into another angel. She was a tall and muscular woman, with long, wavy black hair that fell down her front. Her face was deeply tanned, and she wore the same white gown as Milton. A pair of gray and white wings were folded on her back. They were the same color as the dove’s.
She stepped forward and hugged me. “Gabriel, I’m Cleopatra, of course. It’s wonderful to see you again. I hope you will join us.” I remembered her voice from the top of Longs Peak and in the cabin.
The evidence was mounting that these people were legit, and if so, what an incredible opportunity. He claimed I could stay with Ellen and help the angels deal with the worst of the worst. With that hope rising inside me, my stomach fluttered. “To be honest, my mind is reeling. I’m worried about making such an important decision without thinking it over.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “We both reserve the right to terminate our relationship if it should prove to be unsatisfactory to either party. Let us begin and see where your path leads.”
I was almost naked, wearing only undershorts, but in an instant, I found myself fully clothed in what I’d been wearing before I headed to bed.
But another problem came to mind. “Wait! Obviously, my sister will need my help for years to come. You even said her daughter would be a handful.”
Milton nodded. “We expect sentient beings who accept our calling to also honor their worldly commitments. I daresay you will be surprised at how quickly human lives end, but until your sister and her child reincarnate, you are expected to keep them foremost in your heart.”
He sounded like an understanding man, or rather immortal. I felt a stronger thrill of excitement surge through me. Could this be real? I’d be able to live with Ellen and her daughter, and my night job would involve acting as a detective? “That sounds wonderful. I only hope I can meet your expectations. What do you want me to do first?”
Milton stroked his chin. “When it became apparent you were about to reincarnate, we were forced to accelerate our plans. You are not scheduled for training for several more days, so in the interim, we will make the best use of you that we can.”
He made sense, but he hadn’t answered my question. I glanced at Cleopatra, and she beamed back at me.
“Milton, pretend I don’t know anything about being an angel,” I said. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do.”
Milton nodded. “You will visit a facility where many feral dogs were held captive. The demon who captured them for resale has been annihilated. You have certain innate healing powers that have revealed themselves. They will prove useful in your future work, so we will help you to improve them. For now, you can heal some afflicted animals, and Cleopatra will find homes for them.”
Chapter 4
MY BEDROOM VANISHED, and I was surrounded by darkness. All my physical sensations vanished. I’d probably been turned into a pure spirit.
It was impossible to say whether the darkness lasted for a second or an hour, but I found myself, Milton, and Cleopatra standing inside a dog pound. It could’ve been anywhere, even Atlanta for all I knew. All I knew for sure was the words printed on the signs near us were written in English.
I stood at one end of a long corridor with a stained linoleum floor that led to dozens of wire cages. Most held a dog. The air stunk from stale urine, feces, and death.
“Heal as many as you can,” Milton said, “then bring my name to mind again. As soon as my other duties permit, I w
ill return you home—certainly before your sister notices your absence. Do not tell her anything about the legion or your new responsibilities.”
Yeah, like that’s going to stay secret for long. “She’s very perceptive and sure to notice changes in me.”
Milton sighed. “I will make sure she does not.”
While he seemed hopelessly naive about smart modern women, I kept my mouth shut. “I’ll help these mutts.”
“Excellent.” Milton vanished.
Cleopatra stayed, and I asked her, “How am I supposed to heal?”
“Simply touching the animals will work, at least at a basic level. Some are already beyond saving, but you should be able to help most. I envy you for that power.”
So, not all angels could heal. My excitement continued to grow as I thought of the potential to save people and animals with terminal illnesses, like Mom.
“I have a million questions,” I said, “but I can see these mutts are really hurting. Can I ask you later?”
“Of course. All new apprentices are confused. While you’re doing your work, I will seek new homes for these animals.” She walked away, leaving me in the noisy corridor alone.
Before I could do any good, I had to take a moment to calm down. The dogs deserved my best effort. I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep breath, but it didn’t help. Air flowed in and out of my body, but a deep breath didn’t soothe me like before.
For a minute, I tried to calm my spinning head. I could figure this out later, but the dogs were whining for help. Some of them looked all right physically, but I didn’t doubt that they’d all suffered mentally. Just living in this disgusting dungeon had to terrify them.
I stepped toward the closest cage. A male black lab cowered in the back. His fur was matted in places, and his brown eyes were bloodshot. The fur around his muzzle and on his paws was white, so he was an older dog.
“Hey, buddy, I’m a baby angel, here to help.”
The dog inched forward but then stopped. I kept talking calmly, and the dog advanced with a limp. I sang a nursery rhyme and stuck my fingers through the wire mesh to touch the soft skin along the side of his scarred muzzle. The dog wagged its tail in a circular motion, like Labs did when they were particularly happy.
Forged by Fire (Angels at the Edge Book 1) Page 3