An Angel for Christmas

  “Why? What difference will it make when you catch him?” Morwenna asked.

  Gabe looked at the milk and chocolate he was stirring. “Because he’s especially dangerous on a day like today, that’s why.” He looked at her.

  There was something about his words that seemed strange.

  “Yes, I guess, what with all the presents. But I’m not sure you should head back out into the snow today,” she said. “You seem to be absolutely fine, but you did take a nasty beating yesterday.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he assured her.

  She realized that she didn’t want their uninvited guest to leave.

  “Gabe, we are the citizens you’re supposed to be protecting, no matter the actual jurisdiction. If you’re looking for someone who might be interested in stealing, you should hang with us most of the day.”

  “I will protect you from him,” Gabe said, his tone almost fierce.

  “I believe you will,” Morwenna said. She felt awkward for a moment. “Mom likes to do a little service at the cemetery, and then we’re heading down to the village tavern for a drink. And hey, we need some outside company, to divert us from ripping on each other,” she said. “Kind of sad, isn’t it? Most of us really love our families so much, and yet, we’re cruel to one another in a way we wouldn’t be with others. I guess that’s because others would just walk away.”

  “That’s one way to look at it,” he told her. “Maybe, sometimes, we’re mean to our families because they’re the people who see what we don’t want to admit to ourselves, and will love us no matter what.”

  “I think I’m just going to call you Mr. Sunshine from now on,” Morwenna told him.

  He laughed, stirring the hot chocolate mixture a last time. “Doesn’t that have to do with the fact that you can see the glass as half-empty—or half-full?”

  “Come along, Mr. Sunshine. The gifts are surely divided by now,” Morwenna said.

  They made two trips with the cups of hot chocolate and coffee, and then took seats on the sofa where their presents had been left. Morwenna quickly saw that she wasn’t the only one who had found something for Gabe; he had a stack of four gifts.

  He looked around the room. “You didn’t need to do this! You gave me everything—by taking me in,” he said.

  Genevieve came to him and with her little hands pushed him down into his chair. “Santa knew you were here, Gabe. But I get to go first!”

  Morwenna noted that her mother had done a good job whipping up stockings for the children at the last minute. Genevieve received Fruit Roll-ups, quarters for the games at the tavern and a pretty little set of silver earrings—probably something her mom had bought for herself, since she was always losing one earring. She was delighted. Her present from her father was a real working kids’ stove and an electronic game. Stacy had wrapped up one of her collectible Cabbage Patch dolls, and the little girl was in awe of it, playing with it as Connor opened the rest of his gifts.

  Then Bobby told them that his gift was a song, and he pulled out his guitar and sang to them:

  Christmas morning, what a thrill, for Gen and Connor are here,

  Pretty girl, handsome lad,

  Giving us the best Christmas ever had!

  Christmas Day, what a thrill, for Gen and Connor here!

  Clever girl, brilliant lad,

  When they’re around, nothing can be bad,

  Oh, it’s a Gen and Connor Christmas,

  How we love it, ever so dear,

  Connor and Genevieve,

  Ring the bells!

  Light the lights!

  When Gen smiles, all the world is bright!

  Ring the bells!

  Light the lights!

  When Connor is with us,

  The world is all right!

  Oh, it’s a Gen and Connor Christmas,

  A Gen and Connor Christmas,

  And Christmas Day

  Burns so bright!

  The kids, giggling all the while, pounced on Bobby, hugging him.

  “Hey,” Bobby cried. “Munchkins! Watch the guitar.”

  “Come on, Uncle Bobby. You’re up next!” Genevieve told him.

  “Okay, okay. Pummel the flesh, but not the guitar, eh?” Bobby teased. “Gen, you help me with that one. I don’t wrap well, and I open even worse.”

  “You can’t open a present badly,” Genevieve told him, but she began tearing at the wrapping paper for him.

  Bobby was also delighted with his gifts. His stocking had been filled with Pez animals, beef jerky, turkey jerky and more. His parents had gotten him a new, down-lined coat. Shayne had gotten him an electronic reader with a special music application, and Morwenna had gone out of her way wrapping up a gift certificate to a nationalchain music store, nestled in a bed of guitar picks, strings and a tuner.

  “Now you, Auntie Wenna!” Genevieve said. “Are you really bad at unwrapping, too?”

  “Well, of course I am,” Morwenna said, sitting her niece on her lap. “Go for it, girl.”

  First, the stocking. Morwenna’s had sugar substitute, lip gloss guaranteed to prevent chapping in cold weather, nail polish and emery boards. Genevieve happily tore apart Morwenna’s gifts for her. Morwenna oohed and aahed over her presents—a computer bag with just the right number of pockets, a beautiful black cocktail dress, a snow hat with matching gloves and a tiny little box.

  “What’s this?” Genevieve asked.

  “I don’t know. Open it.”

  Genevieve opened the little box. It held a delicate gold chain that held an angel or cherub, almost like the one on her mother’s tree. It was a beautiful piece.

  Morwenna looked around the room; there was no signature on the box.

  “Mom, where did you find this?” Morwenna asked.

  “I didn’t. Mike?” Stacy asked.

  “No, I didn’t buy it, I’m sorry to say,” Mike said.

  “Not me—I’m the hat and gloves,” Bobby said.

  “I’m the computer bag,” Shayne said.

  “Santa Claus!” Genevieve announced.

  “How curious,” Morwenna said. She took out the chain and little medallion, and Bobby offered to fasten it around her neck. She felt it as it lay against her flesh, and touched it gently. “I’ll figure out my secret Santa, guys. But thank you one and all.”

  “So who is next—Shayne or Gabe?” Connor asked.

  “Gabe—I believe I’m older,” Shayne said.

  Gabe seemed humbled and appreciative as he opened his gifts. When he got to Morwenna’s present, he smiled at her. “Uncanny! It’s my favorite. But—”

  “Hey!” Stacy said. “You’re our guest. Please enjoy what little we have to offer. And, now, Shayne, it’s to you!”

  Shayne feigned excitement over his gifts and Morwenna wanted to make it all better for her older brother.

  It was his first Christmas as a divorced man.

  The kids went on to help Mike and Stacy open their presents, and then Stacy announced that it was time for a quick breakfast.

  “But not too many people in the kitchen, please, or I can’t get anything done,” Stacy said. “Morwenna, you and Gabe can come with me. Bobby, you and Dad set the table. Shayne, gather up all the wrappings and get them into the garbage—all right, everyone?”

  It was agreed. Stacy had her crowd well in hand; she turned on a Christmas CD, and everyone went about their tasks.

  On egg duty with Gabe in the kitchen, Morwenna realized that he had put on a spray of the men’s cologne she had given him.

  She smiled. “Nice,” she told him. She hesitated, staring at him. “Was the angel from you?”

  “Angels are from above,” he teased in return.

  “But, seriously, was it? Was it meant for someone else in your life?” she asked.

  “Was the cologne?”

  “Cologne is easy—it’s in every department store,” she said.

  He laughed. “Maybe angels are easy, too, if you just look.”

  She turned away, hu
mming to the song on the CD, “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”

  “You don’t sound at all like a sick hyena,” Gabe told her.

  “Anyone can hum,” she assured him.

  “Watch the eggs!” Stacy commanded.

  They both laughed. Once Stacy pulled the toast out and Morwenna’s father and brothers wound up in the kitchen and they all bumped into each other as they brought the food out to the table.

  In a few minutes breakfast was all set up, and they gathered around the table, and there were several minutes of “Pass the toast, please,” or “Can you hand me that plate of hash browns?” until all their plates were filled. Coffee and drinks were poured and passed, and everyone praised Stacy for a delicious breakfast, and then Bobby told the kids to go up and get their snowsuits on, threatening them with a snowball fight.

  When the kids had gone with Shayne to get dressed for the snow, Stacy sat back with her coffee and said, “Bobby, play us something. Something Christmasy and magical.”

  When Bobby returned with his guitar, he perched on a kitchen stool and strummed a few notes.

  “‘O Holy Night,’” Gabe suggested.

  Bobby nodded and played and sang. When he finished, Stacy stood and came over and kissed him on the cheek, tears brimming in her eyes. “That was really beautiful,” she said.

  “I’ve applied to Juilliard,” Bobby said, wincing slightly as he looked at his father. “I may well not make it. I don’t know how many incredibly talented people apply every year. But I know how you feel, Dad, and you won’t be responsible for helping me. I’ve found a way to work through school.”

  “Juilliard!” Stacy said.

  “Juilliard,” Mike repeated, frowning slightly, clearly taken off guard.

  “Juilliard is one of the most prestigious schools in the country, Bobby. I hope you make it!” Morwenna said, surprising herself with her readiness to step in for her brother.

  “I’ll know in the next few days,” Bobby said, sounding amazed by her enthusiasm. “I missed the usual auditions, and had to get a special audience with the music school, but somehow, believe it or not, they were chock-full of pianists and violinists, and a little light on those auditioning for guitar this year. So…I’ll know right after New Year’s.”

  “Juilliard,” Mike said again. He blinked. “Bobby, do you know how hard it is to make a living with a guitar? Every kid out there has one. Every kid dreams of being a rock star.”

  “Might as well dream big,” Bobby said. He glanced at his sister, silently thanking her for the support she had offered him.

  “It’s not just a ‘rock star’ thing, Dad,” Morwenna said. “You just heard him play a Christmas carol that was so beautiful, it made tears spring to the eyes.”

  “It’s a hard, hard living, son,” Mike said.

  “I don’t mind working hard,” Bobby said.

  Morwenna glanced at Gabe; of course, he wasn’t a member of their family, and he hadn’t said a word. As she looked at him, though, she realized that he had known. Bobby had told him.

  Mike stood. “We can talk about this later,” he said.

  Bobby stood as well. “We can talk all you want, Dad, but my mind is made up. I know you want the best for me, and I respect that. But if I don’t make it into Juilliard, I’ll find another music academy or institute. I’m going for what I want. I’m not going to be Morwenna, brilliant—and languishing in business meetings!”

  “What?” Morwenna gasped. “Bobby, I have a great job—”

  “Yes, you have a great job, and it should have given you a wonderful outlet for your work. But it didn’t. It turned you into corporate America, which would be just fine, if what you really wanted was corporate America. You’re not that old, Morwenna. Actually, that wouldn’t even matter. You can start over at any time in life—you can start over and start drawing again. Anyway, sorry. I didn’t want to ruin Christmas for anyone. I’m going to head out and have a snowball fight with the kids like I promised.”

  Indignant, Morwenna watched him go. She blinked hard; she had a great job. She might know herself that corporate America hadn’t been her dream, but to the outside world, she had an enviable job. She had a great guy, Alex. This—this being home for the holidays—this was out of context.

  She looked at her parents. They still seemed to be in shock.

  Gabe stood up. “I think I’ll join in the snowball fight,” he said. He looked down at Morwenna and offered her a hand. “Are you coming?”

  “Yes, I’m going to whack the sh—the stuffing out of Bobby,” she said. She headed out quickly, and Gabe followed her. At the door she slipped into her heavy parka and gloves, and burst outside, gathering up a handful of snow before she reached the yard. Connor and Genevieve had been using one of the high-growing pines as shelter against Bobby’s attacks. Morwenna headed straight for her brother with a big, wet, sloppy snowball.

  She creamed him.

  The kids, laughing delightedly, came from around the pines. Bobby was down in the snow, howling in protest and laughter, when Shayne came running out and pelted Morwenna. She stood, aimed back at him and hit Gabe in the chest.

  In a few minutes, they were rolling in the snow, all soaked and still tossing snow and laughing.

  Morwenna was vaguely aware of the crunch of footsteps on the snow; she was still startled when a deep, loud angry voice called out.

  “Hey!”

  They all paused, rolled and looked down the slope. A tall man in a Virginia State Police uniform and parka was heading up toward them.

  “Hey!” he shouted again. “Stop right there, all of you. Don’t move. You’re harboring a murderer!”

  Chapter 6

  Stunned, half-frozen in the snow, Morwenna stared at the newcomer.

  He was a tall, well-muscled man of about thirty, or thirty-five, dark-haired, with fierce dark eyes and a rugged-looking face.

  He could have been a cop…

  He was in uniform…

  “Get up, Gabe!” he said, striding over to stand above Gabe, Morwenna and the kids where they were tangled together in their snow brawl.

  Gabe stood, staring at the newcomer. “He isn’t a cop,” he said evenly. “He has the clothes because he stole them off me. He isn’t a cop, and I’m not a murderer, and he isn’t even a murderer.”

  Morwenna was vaguely aware that the door to their house had opened and closed.

  Genevieve was clinging to her pants. Connor was just staring wide-eyed.

  Shayne walked the few feet to the men. “All right, let’s sort this out here,” he said. “May I see your credentials? Are you armed?”

  The man’s eyes flickered for a minute, and then seemed to gleam with an angry fire. “My sidearm was lost when I grappled with this escaped convict. Trust me, he’s dangerous. I need to take custody of him now.”

  “He’s lying,” Gabe said. “He’s the convict. The thief.”

  The door to the house burst open and Mike, followed by Bobby, came bursting out of the house.

  Mike had his shotgun, and it was aimed at the two strangers in their midst.

  “All right, what the hell is going on here?” Mike demanded.

  “I’m Officer Luke DeFeo of the Virginia State Police,” the newcomer said, his voice filled with authority. “You’ve been deceived by a criminal, a convicted killer.”

  “That’s a lie. He’s the con. You found me half dead in the snow because we wrestled when I was trying to bring him back to justice. He stole my clothing, and gave me his,” Gabe said. “You have to believe me. This man isn’t a murderer, but he could prove to be the most dangerous man who ever walked into your lives.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! Put that gun down. You can see that I’m the cop!” Luke DeFeo said. He started walking toward Mike angrily.

  But Assistant District Attorney Michael MacDougal was no man’s fool. Morwenna was proud when her father cocked the shotgun and said, “I have damn good aim. You stay right where you are. Now, can either of you prove what
you’re saying? Let’s see some ID.”

  “Look at what I’m wearing!” DeFeo snapped.

  “I can see what you’re wearing,” Mike said. “And you may well be a cop, but this fellow has been with us for a lot of hours now, and we’re all alive and well, and it seems that things are appearing in our house rather than disappearing.”

  Morwenna felt the little angel against her neck. It wasn’t studded with gems, but it was still a nice piece. He had given it to her.

  Suspicion crept into her mind. Had he taken it off someone else? Maybe someone now lying dead in the snow.

  “You leave him alone!” Genevieve said, leaping up with the agility of a child and running to DeFeo. She gave him a hard kick in the shin.

  DeFeo let out an angry yell, and almost reached for Genevieve.

  “My sister!” Connor cried.

  “You touch my daughter, and I’ll kill you, cop or no!” Shayne announced. “Genevieve, get over here.”

  Genevieve obeyed without a murmur.

  “Connor, you, too,” Shayne said.

  Gabe and Morwenna stood, dusting snow from their bodies, staring, and watching and waiting.

  “You’re going to find yourself under arrest for aiding and abetting a criminal,” DeFeo said.

  “Let’s see your credentials,” Mike said firmly.

  “Hey, you can see I have a badge.”

  “And I’ll see some ID, too,” Mike said firmly.

  DeFeo scowled. “I don’t have my wallet—I lost it in the tussle with the con you’re protecting!”

  “If you have no real ID, I have no real proof. No one is going to intimidate me,” Mike announced. “If I know one thing, I know the law. And I know that we don’t have any way of knowing which of you is telling the truth. So—you. Yeah, you, Virginia State policeman. Raise your arms. Bobby, see if he has cuffs. And if he does, put them on him.”

  “Yes, sir! Yes, sir, Dad!” Bobby said, and sprang into action.

  Morwenna had never seen her brother Bobby as the tough-guy type, and then again, she’d never seen lifesaving Shayne threaten someone’s life. But then, his children had been threatened, and now Bobby was ready to spring to the fore.