CHAPTER I
Gabriel Archer hunched his shoulders in
his bomber jacket bringing the sheepskin collar up further on his bare neck. His gloveless hands were thrust deep in its
pockets. The cold air nipped at the tip
of his nose, while his boots crunched the snow and ice beneath them as he made
his way among the shoppers. This was his
third trip up and down the crowded sidewalks.
The people were thick on both sides pushing, shoving, and bumping into
each other without an "excuse me" or "sorry." Most grumbled
under their breath, some didn't care and said one of several expletives common
to the time. The masses seemed to have
no thoughts on their minds other than finding that perfect gift, even if it
meant maxing out their credit cards.
Yeah, they had the Christmas spirit
all right.
He'd been sent here to find and protect
one woman for the next thirty-three days.
He hadn't seen any sign of her yet, and day was quickly turning to night. To make matters worse, The Boss sent him here
without his powers. He was to do this
job as a human. Who said The Boss didn't
have a sense of humor? Many didn't think
The Boss did, when actually, He had a good one, and at times it could be
labeled as twisted. One word came to
mind about The Boss's humor, platypus. Gabriel
shook his head. He was still trying to
figure that one out and why The Boss snorted and guffawed when the word
platypus was uttered.
"Excuse me. Happy Holidays! "
The voice yanked him from his morose
thoughts.
"Merry Christmas."
The voice, clear in the crisp air,
rang out over the clash of bodies and traffic.
Gabriel focused on the sweet sound and zeroed in on her voice. A dark blur caught his peripheral vision
amidst the colorful shoppers snatching his attention away from her for a split
second.
A terrified scream yanked him back. His assignment was flying through the air ...
straight into the path of an oncoming car.
Gabriel vaulted a bench, hit the
ground running, and didn't think; he just dove.
He was a warrior and fierce as they come.
His six foot six frame wrapped around
her mere five foot seven one as he snatched her from the path of the car
sliding on the ice straight for her. The
throngs on the sidewalk had bumped her into its path.
Twisting his linebacker's bulk to take
the impact of the landing, he smacked the frozen ground, breaking their fall. They skittered across the slippery road,
causing other pedestrians to scatter out of the way. He slid with her atop him to finally land in
a heap against a pile of snow left by a plow.
Great puffs of white escaped from his
mouth as his inside warmth met the frigid outside air. He'd never seen his breath before. Holiday lights danced above his head from
strings on lampposts blinking their celebratory colors. Quarter-sized snowflakes drifted lazily down
on his dark chestnut hair like an afterthought to splat on his nose and cheeks.
All new experiences for him.
"Wow! That was some ride." She squirmed
against him. "Hmm, sir, you can let
go of me now." Gabriel lay on his back and dipped his chin to look at the
bundle he held tight to his chest. Pansies. Big. Spring. Purple pansies, was his first thought. He'd never seen eyes that shade on a person. Her skin, almost translucent, made the dots
of pink from the cold on her cheeks stand out like paint on a doll's face. A red and green knit cap adorned hair as
black and shiny as a crow's wing, hair that swooped forward to brush and tickle
his nose.
"Sir, are you okay?" said
the bundle that wiggled against him, stirring things down below that shouldn't
be stirring. After all, he was an angel,
and angels weren't supposed to have stirrings.
She was asking if he was okay, and he should be asking her that same
question. For some reason the power of
speech eluded him.
"Sir?" He sat up as she
scooted off him.
"Did you hit your head?"
Those eyes, huge with worry, searched his face.
Vanilla wafted to his nose and warm
sugar cookies came to mind. Wait a
minute, he'd never had a sugar cookie or any cookie for that matter, how did he...?
Her mittened hands framed his face,
stealing the rest of his thought as she locked her gaze on his.
Gabriel raised his hand to cover hers.
"You have the most beautiful
eyes," he gushed. Wait! When did he ever gush?
A smile with enough wattage to light
up the Eastern Seaboard flashed before him, followed with a laugh reminiscent
of silver bells.
"Come on let's get you on your
feet. I don't think you have a
concussion, and there doesn't appear to be any bleeding anywhere." She
stood and placed her small hands under his left arm near the elbow, urging him
up. Gabriel shook his head at the
audacity of such a slender woman assisting him, and scrambled up. The bundle began dusting off the snow from
his coat and pants, front and back.
Jaw clenched, eyes scrunched tightly
shut, he tried willing the stirring away.
It retreated, but to his mortification didn't completely dissipate. Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice.
"Well there, no worse for wear."
She raised her face with those eyes to meet his and stuck out her hand. "Thank you for saving my life. I'm Zipporah, Zipporah Campbell, but everyone
calls me Zippy."
"Moses's wife."
"Nope, not married." She
stuck her tongue out to catch a snowflake, and Gabriel's groin tightened. He concentrated on what she was saying. "Do I really look that old?"
Zipporah laughed as she smoothed a lock of hair from her face. "Don't answer that."
Gabriel stuffed his hands into his
coat pockets suddenly unsure what to do with them. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean – it's an old
name, one I haven't heard in a long time."
"No apology needed. I was being a smarty. Blame it on my mother, the wit and the name."
She chuckled. "She had a weird
sense of humor."
"Excuse me?"
"My family is, was, Wiccan, and
Mom thought it was funny to name me after a person from the Bible."
"You're Wiccan?"
"Nope, got back at Mom for the
name by switching sides," Zipporah giggled. "Don't worry, Mom liked irony, and she
was happy I found something to believe in."
"So you do believe?"
"Of course, especially,"
Zipporah raised her hands and face to turn slowly letting the snowflakes hit
her cheeks and tongue, "this time of year." Her eyes locked with his,
and for a moment, Gabriel thought he heard clear sweet music.
He realized they were standing in the
middle of the sidewalk. She shivered;
the temperature was dropping. He, on the
other hand, felt rather warm.
He spotted an old-fashioned railroad
car diner with the sign above reading 'Dave's' tucked between two buildings. It looked odd in the row of buildings because
the rest towered over it. Gabriel
grasped her arm, nearly pulling her off her feet in the wake of his lengthy
stride. Zipporah's mittened hand beat
against him.
"Hey, where do you think you're
taking me?"
One good swat missed his arm and hit
his nose. Gabriel stopped, nose
tingling, but didn't let go of her. Those
earlier gentle pools of purple now blazed and sparked. "Just because you save a person doesn't
mean you can treat them like..."
One brow rose. "Like?"
"Well, I don't know, but nothing
nice I'm sure." Zipporah stamped one foot and, slipped. He caught her. He put his arms around her in a flash pinning
her to him causing that stirring again.
"I just wanted to get you inside."
Two delicate brows rose.
"It's cold out; you're damp from
the snow, I thought." Gabriel let go of her, stepped back to run a hand
through his hair, then let the hand drop to his side. "You should be in where it's warm, have
a bit to eat, and a hot drink to chase away the chill." He thrust his
hands back in his pockets. "Maybe I
should take you to a hospital to be checked out."
Panic flashed in her face, but just as
fast, determination replaced it.
"Nope, no hospitals, I'm fine."
She tucked her arm in his. "By the
way, I'll let you in on a little secret.
A woman likes to be asked; the whole caveman thing of dragging a woman
off and all, is a real turn-off." With a tug, she started them toward the
diner. "I know you saved my life
and all, but I really hope you're the one buying. I'm broker than broke."
Gabriel adjusted his stride to match
her smaller one. "Yes, of course."
That million-watt smile flashed at him
again.
* * * *
Zipporah breathed deep, still trying
to catch her breath from the scare and marathon dash to the eatery. The hunk, who'd moments ago saved her life,
held the door open for her. Funny, he
hadn't given her his name yet. She
stepped into the warmth and wonderful aromas of the diner. Her mouth watered; despite everything, she
still had a healthy appetite most days. He
placed his hand to the small of her back, guiding her to an empty booth.
She caught her lower lip between her
teeth, halting the tiny gasp before it escaped her mouth. His hand seared through all the layers of
clothing and her winter coat. She felt
the heat and strength of his touch as if she'd been standing there naked.
He leaned in, his breath tickling the
delicate skin on her ear. "Are you
all right?"
Zipporah didn't trust her voice at the
moment and shook her head yes. A
waitress found them a quiet booth; as they sat she handed them each a menu.
"Choose whatever you want."
He tapped the plastic coated list with a finger.
"Thank you, Mr–?"
"Gabriel, Gabriel Archer."
"Gabriel, that's an angel's name,
and just like a guardian angel, you saved my life." Zipporah placed her
hand on his, which was resting on the table.
A current like electricity zapped them both. Jerking their hands back, they laughed. While hers appeared to have bubbled up from
nerves, his sounded forced, and she noted, didn't reach his eyes. Who was this man?
* * * *
Gabriel shifted in his seat. What the Hell was that? Where had it come from? Muscles in his arms, legs, and body tensed,
ready for battle. He reached for his
sword at his side and grabbed air. Jaw
clenched, eyes narrowed, he searched the diner looking for whatever had caused
the spark, while he remembered why he was sitting there defenseless. To protect the woman across from him, because
it had been deemed she be allowed one more Christmas.
Gabriel snorted. The Boss thought he could learn some, in His
words, "valuable insight into His creations" by doing the job as one
of them; his Boss might as well have tied both his hands and his feet.
* * * *
Zipporah's body sagged as the
excitement and adrenaline started leaking from her. She rubbed her shoulder to ease the ache
settling there. The sleepiness from the
cancer pulled at her making her wish for a hot bath and her bed. She slumped in her seat. A large hand slipped under her chin gently
lifting it. Caring eyes of chocolate
brown with tiny gold flecks searched her face.
Zipporah gave a weak smile.
"I'm okay, just a bit worn out. Thank you again for saving me."
"I haven't saved you."
Zipporah straighten in her seat. "Why did it sound like there was a „yet'
after that sentence?"
Gabriel's shoulders lifted in a
noncommittal shrug. "Let's get our
order to go before you fall asleep here."