An Angel for Christmas

by Heather Graham

  “I scrounged together a few old pieces, too,” Stacy said. “They’ll be good.”

  “Well, I didn’t scrounge anything, but I have a Christmas-morning present for them, too,” Bobby told them. He grimaced. “I wrote them a song.”

  “Their own song. Cool, really cool,” Gabe said.

  Mike MacDougal studied his son. “That will be great, Bobby. We’ll all look forward to hearing it.”

  Bobby thought that his father sounded a little awkward; words of praise had always been hard for him. He smiled.

  Stacy stretched and yawned. “Well, I’m to bed,” she said. “It’s been a wonderful Christmas Eve. Thank you all. Thank you all for being here with us.”

  Stacy walked over and kissed Morwenna, then Shayne, and then came to Bobby. There was something glittering in his mother’s eyes.

  Happiness, he thought.

  He hugged her warmly in return. “Good night, Mom,” he told her. “Thank you. It was a great Christmas Eve dinner.”

  “Glad you liked it,” she told him. She turned, and paused, seeing Gabe. Stacy smiled warmly and gave him a hug as well. “Welcome to our home for Christmas. You’re all set, right?”

  “Your family has been great. I have more than I would have had anywhere,” he assured her.

  “Well, good night, kids,” Mike said. He repeated Stacy’s actions, giving each of his children a hug, and pausing in front of Gabe. He offered him a handshake. “Merry almost Christmas, Mr. Lange.”

  “And to you, sir,” Gabe said.

  Mike stared at him. “Aren’t you worried? Your, uh, your prisoner is still out there—at large nearby.”

  “I will be vigilant,” Gabe said. “I won’t let any harm come to your family.”

  Mike wagged a finger at Gabe. “Trust me. I won’t let any harm come to my family.”

  As his parents walked up the stairs, Bobby heard his father whispering to his mother. “What do we know? The guy could be a crook! We could wake up to find out that he’s robbed the entire place. Or worse, we could not get to wake up at all!”

  “Hush!” Stacy said.

  But Mike raised his voice, intending to be heard.

  “You know I always sleep with that shotgun by my bed. You never know when a starving bear is going to wake up.”

  “Bears hibernate, Mike, you know that,” Stacy said.

  Then they were upstairs and out of earshot. The three MacDougal children looked awkwardly at Gabe.

  “Dad’s been a prosecutor for a really long time,” Bobby said.

  Gabe laughed. “Hey, he’s a bright man, and he’s seen the worst. That’s okay. It’s not a bad thing to be prepared for—bad things.”

  “Yes, despite all the miracles in the world,” Morwenna said, “they do happen!”

  “So do good things,” Gabe countered. As he spoke, the old grandfather clock in the parlor chimed midnight.

  They all stood still, listening.

  “Merry Christmas, bros!” Morwenna said then, and kissed Shayne and Bobby. She studied her brothers’ expressions. “Merry Christmas,” she said again softly. “And I hope that your present is the future, and that it brings you all that you want—and deserve,” she said. She moved quickly away, and walked over to Gabe.

  She hesitated a minute, and then gave him a hug. “And you’d better not prove to be a lowlife thief or anything of the like,” she told him.

  She turned around to look at them all. “I’m going to grab those little gifts for the kids. And, then, I’m cuddling up with my niece to get some sleep. See you all in the morning.”

  She ran up the stairs. Shayne, Gabe and Bobby called after her, “Merry Christmas!”

  They looked at one another. “I’m going to go on up and cuddle with my son, myself,” Shayne said. “Guess I need to grab those chances when I get them,” he said.

  “’Night, Shayne,” Bobby said.

  Shayne paused in front of Gabe. “Merry Christmas. And thanks.”

  “Hey, I need to thank you all,” Gabe told him.

  Shayne nodded and headed on up.

  “Top bunk or bottom?” Bobby asked Gabe.

  “Whichever one you don’t sleep in,” Gabe said. “I could be dying of hypothermia right now. Or resting on a slab at the morgue. I’m delighted just to be indoors.”

  “Actually, we’re lucky we found you. It’s been a helluva good Christmas Eve with you around, stranger. Glad to have you,” Bobby told him.

  And it was true. What might have been tedious had been fun; what could have been arguments had turned to camaraderie and laughter.

  He found himself turning to the tree. One of the golden glowing lights was touching the face of the little angel ornament.

  An injured cop had turned out to be their Christmas angel, in his way.

  “Want some water or anything before I turn out the lights down here? It won’t be completely dark. We leave the tree lights on through the night. My mom used to say they were a beacon for Santa. And, of course, since we burned logs in the fire place, she convinced us that Santa had a key.”

  Gabe laughed. “Nope, I’m good. Thanks. I’ll head on up. Which did you prefer? The upper bunk, or the lower?”

  “Top—but I really don’t care.”

  “I’ll crawl into the lower,” Gabe said.

  Bobby started around the house to check the doors and turn off the lights. When he returned to the parlor, he saw that Morwenna had set her extra gifts under the tree for the kids.

  She was just walking back up the stairs.

  “’Night, sis!”

  “’Night!” she called back.

  As she reached the upper landing, Gabe was just coming out of Shayne’s room. Shayne must have supplied him with the flannel night trousers he was wearing.

  Gabe and Morwenna almost ran into each other. Gabe was still shirtless, carrying the pajama top in his hands.

  Morwenna seemed to have frozen there.

  As had Gabe.

  Bobby grinned.

  Two such beautiful people; Morwenna in a long white flannel gown, raven hair flowing down her back; Gabe, appearing to have such strength.

  “’Night!” Morwenna said, the sound almost desperate. She turned and fled into her own room.

  “Good night,” Gabe called after her.

  Bobby grinned as he walked up the stairs. He thought that Morwenna had a bit of a crush on their visitor—and that the feelings were returned.

  Gabe had already turned into the room. When Bobby entered, their visitor was in the lower bunk.

  “Merry Christmas,” Bobby said, crawling up.

  “Yes,” Gabe said thoughtfully. “Merry Christmas.”

  Bobby yawned. For a moment, he thought that if their visitor was a maniacal killer, he’d be the first to go.

  But the guy wasn’t a killer of any kind. He was certain. He didn’t know how he was certain.

  But, as the stranger seemed to be teaching them, sometimes, you just had to have faith.

  Chapter 5

  Morwenna woke up with a start. She could actually hear bells; church bells coming from the little village that was around the bend and down the mountain about a mile.

  She started to move and realized that something warm was next to her, and she raised her arms quickly, hoping that she hadn’t batted her niece in the head. She looked down at Genevieve, still sleeping soundly, little cheeks rosy and flushed.

  She looked like an angel.

  It had been nice sleeping with her; nice to wake up with a trusting little bundle of a child next to her. She rose carefully, trying not to awaken Genevieve, moved to gather fresh clothing as silently as she could and then headed into her bathroom to shower. As she turned on the water, she thought back to early yesterday morning, when she and Alex had stood in the shower together. They had teased and played, and it had been nice, and of course, he’d reminded her that she could still get on the plane with him—no matter what it cost, they could buy a ticket. She’d reminded him that he could forget
Cancún and come with her.

  But they’d parted anyway. He hadn’t let her drive him to the airport; they were all going on one plane out of Kennedy, he told her, and Kennedy would be in the opposite direction. He wished her a wonderful Christmas, and sounded sincere when he said that she should enjoy her family.

  She hoped she had sounded equally sincere when she had told him to enjoy Cancún.

  Just a little more than twenty-four hours ago now and yet it seemed like forever.

  As she stood under the warm spray of the shower, she wondered how her life in Manhattan could seem so far away. There had actually been moments when she hadn’t really thought about Alex in Cancún, or really worried half as much as she might have. Well, that was probably thanks to the stranger, too; he seemed to be keeping them all on their good behavior.

  And, apparently, he wasn’t a maniacal serial killer, since she was pretty sure they’d all wakened that morning in their beds.

  Dressed and ready for the day, she stepped back into her room. Genevieve was still sleeping.

  Morwenna hesitated, and then quietly opened her bag. There was a wrapped gift there in her luggage, one she had forgotten to give Alex. She’d planned it as part of his Christmas stocking if he’d come home with her, since at the MacDougal house, everyone got a stocking.

  It was a little box of her favorite men’s cologne. She studied the prettily wrapped little package. She honestly didn’t even know if Alex liked it or not. He’d said he did when they’d started dating. But then, at that time, if she liked something, he liked it.

  It was cologne, she could replace it easily. She found a new tag and put Gabe’s name on it, and the words From Santa.

  Morwenna left the room and hurried downstairs.

  There was no one in the parlor as she dropped the little gift under the tree, or in the dining room. Her mother, she knew, was up. But as she headed for the kitchen, she paused. She could hear her mother speaking to Gabe Lange.

  “It’s my favorite day. My favorite day of the year. It always has been. I like my birthday just fine, mind you. Thanksgiving is wonderful, and so is Easter. But Christmas…I don’t know. I always believe just a little in magic when it’s Christmas Day,” Stacy said.

  “It’s a lovely day,” Gabe replied.

  She started to move on in, but then hesitated; her mother spoke again, bringing up her name.

  “I wish I could give that magic to my children,” she said. “Morwenna…” Morwenna tensed.

  Eavesdropping was not at all nice! she reminded herself.

  But she felt frozen in place.

  “My daughter,” Stacy continued, “I love her so much. And I don’t know what happened. I think she forgot how to be happy. I think she even thinks she is happy most of the time, but…take a look at my husband. He’s a rather suspicious fellow. Well, his father wanted him to be an attorney. I don’t think he even liked the law at first—he went into the law because that’s what the sons in the family did. Then, along the way, he discovered that he did have a passion for seeing that victims received what was right, and that those who hurt others must be put away. He did what people thought he should, but somehow he made it work on his terms. He seems gruff and hard sometimes, but when he wins a case and comes home having put away the bad guy, he’s so happy! You’re in law enforcement—you must understand some of the feelings he has, and how he can be up and down and frustrated. And when he doesn’t win, I’m there to help him through the struggle. But with Morwenna…I fear sometimes that we hurt her. She’s like a little hamster on a wheel, running and running. I worry that she’s not going where she wants to be. Last night really brought it home to me. She’s forgotten—and I think that most of the world forgets—that it’s nice sometimes just to wake up and be happy for what we do have, and remember that happy isn’t a constant state for anyone”

  “Well, Mrs. MacDougal, I think you are wise beyond measure,” Gabe told her. “And, to be truthful, I think that your daughter is very smart, and a very good person, and that she will find her way.”

  “Wenna!”

  She turned, her cheeks reddening as she heard the whisper from the dining room doorway.

  Bobby was there. He had pure mischief in his eyes and he shook his finger in a “no-no” gesture. He tiptoed up to her. “Eavesdropping? On your mother?”

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “I wasn’t eavesdropping!” she protested. “I just got here.”

  “Yeah, and you always walk around with your ear glued to the wall,” Bobby said.

  She elbowed him again. “Hey! Lay off the ribs, will you? There could be a hot girl in my future somewhere,” he told her.

  “Your future here? In this house?” she asked skeptically.

  “No. But, my dear, just because the weather was so wretched we couldn’t get out of the house and our little area, things always change! If the weather holds, we’ll go down to the village. Gabe can get ahold of his headquarters and tell them that a con is running around somewhere, and we’ll have a wassail drink at the old tavern later on. I think Mom wants to go to the cemetery and do her prayer thing there, and, of course, there’s church tonight,” Bobby reminded her.

  “Ah, yes! Drive-in Mass.”

  “Gotta love Father Donaldson. He says that if he can get his parishioners into the church for twenty minutes and a quickie mass, it’s better than no mass at all.”

  “Which works for Dad,” Morwenna agreed. “I think Mom would like a service with more singing, and a sermon that’s longer than ‘Please, Lord, help team X win the Super Bowl!’”

  “I think that Mom is just glad Dad goes to church, and agrees to her little MacDougal prayer service at the cemetery,” Bobby said.

  “You’re probably right,” Morwenna said.

  Stacy came through the swinging door, smiling. “I thought I heard you two out here. Good morning. Good—beautiful—Christmas morning!”

  Gabe followed her out of the kitchen, smiling to see them. Morwenna caught his smile—Lord, but it was a good smile. But he wasn’t just a stranger, she reminded herself, there was something about him that made the odd little sensual twinges she was feeling seem just not right somehow.

  Didn’t matter! Soon she’d be back in Manhattan, running the rat race and spending time with Alex.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said.

  “And likewise!” she returned. “You slept well?”

  “Like a baby.”

  As Gabe replied, Morwenna’s father came into the dining room. “Merry Christmas, all. The little ones up yet?”

  “Genevieve was still sleeping when I got up,” Morwenna said.

  “Well,” Mike said, “I imagine they’ll be up soon enough. Is coffee on in the kitchen?”

  “Yes, dear, I’ll get you a cup,” Stacy said.

  But Mike MacDougal set his hands on his wife’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Stacy. I can get coffee. You spoil us all.”

  “I’ll take some, too, Dad,” Bobby said.

  “You can come in and fix your own coffee. I don’t know what you take with it these days,” Mike said.

  As Mike disappeared into the kitchen, they heard a loud screech of delight from the parlor.

  “Kids are up!” Stacy said happily, hurrying out.

  Morwenna followed her mother. She paused though, in the doorway, her smile deepening, something tugging at her heart.

  Connor and little Genevieve were in front of the tree, hand in hand, staring at the ornaments and the packages beneath. Connor had let out the whoop, having seen his new bicycle.

  “Santa came—I told you he would come,” Genevieve said.

  Shayne had followed his children down the stairs and stood behind them, silent. Connor turned around and hurried over to him, throwing his arms around his father. “Thanks, Dad,” he said huskily. “It was the only…like, thing that I wanted and kind of needed.”

  Morwenna felt her heart would break as she watched her brother put his hand gently on his so
n’s head. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to use it much for a while. I’m pretty sure the snow is piled high in Pittsburgh, too. And don’t worry—you don’t have to keep it at my apartment. You can keep it at your mom’s house. You go back and forth from school there most of the time.”

  Connor nodded. “Thanks,” he said again.

  “Daddy, can I open something, please?” Genevieve asked. “Connor can see his bike! My stuff is all wrapped,” she said.

  “Ask your grandmother. She’s our mistress of ceremonies,” Shayne said.

  Genevieve looked hopefully to her grandmother. “Go for it, Genevieve. In fact, why don’t you and Connor hand out the presents. Hand them all to everyone first, and then we’ll open in order of our ages, youngest to oldest.”

  Genevieve giggled. “That means me first!”

  “And Connor second.”

  “Anyone else for coffee or cocoa?” Morwenna asked. “I can make it while Genevieve is handing out the gifts.”

  “I’ll help you,” Gabe said. He shrugged. “I’m not a family member—I can give out coffee and keep the kitchen going, and I’ll enjoy watching all of you in between.”

  “You may be surprised,” she told him. “But sure, help me hand out coffee.”

  Genevieve and Connor were already out by the tree, looking for names on tags.

  Morwenna smiled as Gabe followed her into the kitchen. As she poured coffee into mugs, Gabe got the milk from the refrigerator and found a copper-bottomed pan hanging from the wooden overhead above the workstation in the center of the kitchen.

  “Why don’t I heat up the milk for the cocoa?” he said.

  Morwenna went for the sugar, and looked over at Gabe. “This fellow that you were chasing—what had he done?” she asked.

  “Luke DeFeo? He’s been sentenced before—petty larceny. This time he stole the funds for the homeless from a church just outside Richmond.”

  “A thief, but not a murderer?” Morwenna asked. “Well, that’s good to know, if this guy is running around the mountain somewhere.”

  “Not a murderer; but still a very dangerous man,” Gabe said. He hesitated, adding the chocolate squares Morwenna provided to the heating milk. “Sometime this evening, thanks to your brother’s kind medical care, I’ll be able to head out and try to track him again. I really need to find him before the day is done.”