The Trouble with Angels (Angels Everywhere #2)(14)

Shirley watched in dismay as Goodness lured a cart away from a long line of them near the front of the store. She set it rolling across the large parking lot until it stopped directly behind Maureen’s car.

A little boy who was walking into the store with his mother watched the cart take off on its own and then come to an abrupt halt. He must have been about five, Shirley gauged.

The boy tugged on the strap of his mother’s purse, which was draped over her arm.

"Mom. Mom!”

"Stevie, how many times have I asked you not to pull on my purse?…Answer me, son. How many times?”

"But, Mom—”

"How would you like it if I yanked on you?”

"But, Mom, I just saw a cart move and stop all on its own,” he told her.

"Then don’t pull on my arm, and I won’t pull on yours,” she said, completely ignoring what the youngster had told her. With that, she reached for his hand and led him inside the store.

Shirley swore she was about to melt into the asphalt. "What are you trying to do?” she asked Goodness between gritted teeth. "See how fast you can get the three of us sent back in disgrace? We promised no monkey business, remember?”

"What’s so unnatural about gravity pulling a cart a certain distance?” Goodness inquired with a look as innocent as freshly fallen snow. "All we—”

"We?”

"I.” At least she had the good grace to correct herself, Shirley noted.

"All I did,” Goodness continued as if burdened with the incompetence of the other two, "was make the brochure accessible to a certain person we know and love.”

"Look at that!” Maureen said as she trudged toward her parked car, loaded down with two heavy bags of groceries. "Don’t you just hate it when thoughtless people leave their carts out? I’ll need to put it away before I can leave.”

"Here,” her mother said, "let me move it out of your way.”

"You have your own load—I’ll get it,” Maureen insisted. She set the bags inside the cart and opened the car trunk. After placing her mother’s bags inside the car, she retrieved her own. "I’ll take the cart back,” she said, unlocking the passenger door for her mother.

She raced back toward the store and left the cart in the appropriate slot. A colorful piece of paper flew out and slapped her across the chest. Impatiently Maureen tossed it aside and half trotted back to her vehicle.

A gust of wind came up, carrying dirt and bits of grit with it. Maureen raced toward her car and climbed inside, thankful to escape the unexpected blast.

Just then the wind flattened the brochure against her windshield. She couldn’t see a blasted thing, let alone attempt to drive.

"Maureen, do you see that?”

"Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll get it in just a moment.”

"No, I mean do you see what the brochure is for?”

"No, Mother, I haven’t read it.”

"It’s about a riding stable.”

"How nice.” Maureen didn’t mean to be short-tempered, but she had other errands to run, and she wanted to get home before the frozen foods began to thaw.

She opened her car door, climbed out, snatched the brochure from her windshield, and tossed it onto the backseat.

"Nichols’s Riding Stables,” her mother said. "It just might be something that would interest Karen.”

"I’m sure it would,” Maureen said, twisting around to make sure no cars were coming before she backed out of the space. "I’ll read it later, Mom.”

She had five other errands to run, and it took another hour and a half before she was able to drop her mother off. Karen was playing with a girl in the neighborhood, so Maureen left her at her parents’ place. Actually she didn’t mind an afternoon alone.

The phone rang as she was carrying the last bag of groceries in from the car.

"Hello,” she said, stretching the long cord to the refrigerator and setting two half gallons of milk inside.

"Hello. This is Thom Nichols. Is this Maureen Woods?”

Nichols. Nichols. The name sounded vaguely familiar. "Yes, it is.”

"You left a message on my answering machine. I understand you’re interested in riding lessons for your daughter?”

Paul Morris wasn’t looking forward to his visit with Madge Bartelli and her husband. He feared the couple were looking for him to supply something he simply didn’t have.

Hope.

Courage.

Reassurances.

God’s love.

Paul felt as if he’d lost all four in his first go-around with cancer when Barbara had been so ill. There was nothing left over to offer Madge. Nothing with which to comfort her husband.

He paused outside the front door, and his hand tightened around the soft leather-bound book he’d brought with him. It seemed an eternity passed before he found the strength to raise his hand and ring the doorbell.

Bernard opened the door, and the older man’s sad, tired eyes brightened when he saw Paul.

"God bless you, Reverend, for stopping by.” He held open the screen door for him. "Just knowing you were coming lifted Madge’s spirits. She’s sitting up in the living room, waiting for you. It’s the first time she’s been out of bed in almost a week.”