His Christmas Angel

ANGEL

“Miracles? Christmas angels?” Angel angled herself in the seat to see and hear Nash’s response better. “What are you talking about?”

He rubbed his chin. “All right, well, last year was Frank and Christina’s turn. When she got pregnant, there were complications, and they were told the baby wouldn’t live.

“Not only did the kid survive, but there was another the scans hadn’t picked up. Both the twins were small but healthy.

“The year before, Margie’s husband was assumed dead. He was completing a tour in Iraq. Lo and behold, he showed up alive and well on Christmas Day.

“There have been countless other stories over the years. Too many to mention.”

Angel sat back in her seat and let out a slow breath. “Wow, that’s…something.”

“Sure is.”

“Well, they do say Christmas is a time when miracles happen.” Angel looked at Nash out of the corner of her eye, and a smile spread across her face.

He nodded his head at the building in front of them. “This is the place.”

Nash pulled the truck into the parking spot in front of a shop with two large panes of glass and a glass door.

Underneath the Christmas lights and paper chains of snowflakes and Christmas trees, Angel spied tray after tray of gingerbread people, red and green cookies, and cinnamon rolls.

“They live in a bakery?”

Nash chuckled. “They own and run the bakery but they live upstairs. I grew up here and even helped out in the store.”

“Really? I assumed you’d run the ranch your whole life.”

He shook his head while stepping out of the car. “I worked on different ranches and saved every penny I earned for years until I could afford to buy my own place.

“So, are you ready to meet my folks? I should warn you, they are gonna get you to try some of their cakes.”

As soon as they entered the shop, the aroma of freshly baked goods filled her nostrils, making her stomach growl.

Amid all the Christmas decorations were two small tables on one side and a long counter was at the front of the store.

A woman with short, brown, curly hair was standing behind the register, and Angel guessed she was around fifty.

“Nash!” the lady called out.

“Mom.” He hugged her back when she put her arms around him. “Mom, I want you to meet Angel, the woman I told you about.”

Nash’s mother embraced Angel so suddenly that she almost knocked her over.

“Welcome, sweetheart. I’m so happy to meet you. Hey, I bet you would love my famous hot cocoa and a cinnamon roll.”

“Told ya so,” Nash mumbled.

“Thank you, Mrs. Harris, I would love some.”

“Please, call me Mildred. Come, sit. Nash, pull out a chair for the young lady.”

After mouthing thank you to Nash and sitting down, Angel saw a man coming out from the back room.

“I hope my son is treating you with the utmost respect. If not, I’ll tan his ass,” Mr. Harris said, giving her a smile.

Mildred returned from behind the counter with a cup of hot cocoa and a warm roll.

“Oh, he is, sir.”

“Call me Wade. We’re very informal around these parts. And you’re going by Angel, yes?”

Angel nodded between bites of her roll, which melted in her mouth. “At least until I remember who I really am.”

Mildred frowned and rubbed Angel’s forearm. “Don’t you worry, dear. I’m sure you’ll be fine. And in the meantime, we’re here if you need anything.”

“Anything at all,” Wade said.

After spending an hour with his parents and having to sample a few of their desserts, Nash got to his feet.

“Sorry, but we’d best get back. Moe will need to do his business, and I’ve got to see to the horses.”

Angel moved to stand, but Mildred gripped her fingers, keeping her from walking away too quickly.

“This Friday, some of us are getting together to bake Christmas cookies for the annual decorating of the tree in the park. The men make their famous chili too. Perhaps you would like to help us?”

Angel glanced at Nash and then back at Mildred. “I’d love to try. I guess Nash will be helping with the chili?”

“That he will, dear. He makes the best chili around. He even won a contest once.”

Mildred and Wade hugged them both goodbye before handing Angel a box and sending them out to the truck.

“I like your parents, they’re so nice.” Angel delighted at the warmth coming off the box of baked goods and onto her thighs.

“They like you, too, it seems. Let’s make tracks before Moe has an accident.” He turned the key, and the engine roared to life.

“Nash, can you…?”

“What is it, Angel?”

“Can you show me where you found me?”

He nodded. “It’s on the way. You won’t be able to see anything.”

“I know, I just want to look. Maybe it will spark something.”

It didn’t take long for the buildings to disappear, replaced with open fields, then woods, and then the lake came into view. Nash pulled over to the side and parked, and they both got out.

She got close to the edge of the steep bank and looked down. So much snow had fallen that she could barely make out where the ice was thinner and fresher than the rest.

“My car is down there?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. There’s no way to get it out right now.” Nash took hold of her hand.

“If you hadn’t come along when you did, I’d be down there, too, under the frozen water. I’d be dead.” She gazed into his eyes. “You saved my life, Nash. There is no way I can ever repay you.”

“There’s no need to repay me. Anyone would have done the same thing.”

Angel shook her head. “You risked your life to save me. Not many would do that.” She stood on her toes, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

There was electricity in her body, and she wondered if he felt it too as she stared at his mouth, wondering what it would be like to taste his lips.

“Come on,” he said at last, quietly, taking her hand, “let’s go.”

“You know,” Angel said, letting him help her into the truck, “I think I’m starting to see why this town believes in a Christmas angel.”

***

Before they could even get through the front door, Moe came bounding out and jumped all over them.

After jumping up and licking Angel’s face, he ran underneath Nash, knocking his legs out from under him.

“Are you okay?” Angel did her best to stifle her laughter.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” As Nash rose to his feet—He turned his back to open the door when a snowball hit him in the back. “You didn’t just do that?!”

“Oh, but I did.” Angel lobbed another ball at him, hitting him square in the chest.

“Now you’ve done it!” Letting the front door close again, he picked up some snow off the rail, made a snowball, and threw it, striking her leg.

They both laughed as they continued throwing snow at each other, ducking behind the house or under the porch stairs.

Moe got in on the action, too, jumping up and trying to catch the snowballs in his mouth as they flew this way and that.

At one point, Angel lost sight of Nash, and as she poked her head around the corner to find him, he came sneaking up behind her and grabbed her, threatening to rub snow in her face.

She screamed and struggled, and they both laughed before they fell to the ground. She twisted to get away, but he held her firmly, so rolled the other way, ending up on top of him.

He looked into her eyes, and she gazed into his, loving how they sparkled. Their breathing was heavy, and as their laughs faded, Angel’s gaze moved from Nash’s eyes to his lips.

Ever so slowly, he lifted his head toward her, and she lowered her mouth toward his.

Moe started barking, his haunches raised and his tail stiff.

Nash laughed. “It’s all right, buddy, I’m not hurting her.”

When Moe kept growling, looking toward the mountains, Nash jumped to his feet, pulling her up. His expression was serious and focused.

“Nash, what’s wrong?”

“Go inside and take Moe with you.” His eyes didn’t move from the horizon.

Angel didn’t understand. The white Montana landscape and glowing orange sunlight looked as beautiful as ever.

“Why?” The hair on her arms and neck stood on end.

Nash took her arm, grabbed Moe’s collar, and walked them over to the front door. After leading them inside, he opened the closet and took out his rifle. “Stay here. Do not come outside.”

A moment later, he was gone, heading in the direction of the barn or the fields beyond.

Angel’s heart was in her mouth, and the more Moe growled and scratched at the door, the more the lump in her throat seemed to grow.

Bang!

Bang!

Two gunshots echoed through the house, making her jump, and her body trembled with fear.