A Season of Angels Page 0,3

or how commonplace it seemed, the miracle of birth hadn't lost its impact.

"What about you?" she asked.

"Same old grind as always," Andrew mumbled, preoccupied with their dinner preparations.

"We should have ordered out."

"I don't mind," he told her, and she could hear the warmth in his voice. "I talked to the decorator about a tree," he said, and turned to face Leah. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in deeply. "I thought we'd have the tree done in angels this year."

"Angels," Leah repeated softly. "That sounds nice."

"Mom phoned earlier," he continued. "She invited us over for Christmas Eve."

Leah nodded. Christmas was meant for children. Instead of stringing popcorn and cranberries on the tree with her toddlers, she was working with a decorator who would shape their Christmas tree into a work of art. She would have much preferred a work of love.

When, Leah asked herself, when, oh, when, would the raw edges of her pain go away? She'd be a good mother. Andrew would be a doting, loving father. That God in his almighty wisdom had not seen fit to give her a child was the cruelest of fates. Tears filled her eyes and she looked away, not wanting Andrew to see. He knew her so well it was difficult to hide anything from him.

"Leah?"

She snuggled closer in his arms, needing the warm security of his love.

"It's worse at Christmastime, isn't it?" he asked gently.

They'd had this same conversation a hundred times over the years. With nothing new to add, with nothing new to share, it was best shelved.

"When will dinner be ready?" she asked, easing herself from the comfort of Andrew's embrace. She managed a watery smile. "I'm starved."

"Have you seen enough?" Gabriel asked, standing directly behind Mercy.

She'd seen more than she wanted. Slowly, thoughtfully, Mercy dragged her gaze away from the scene below. Compassion swelled and throbbed within her. "Leah's hurting so terribly."

"She hasn't stopped and won't until . . ."

"Until when?" Mercy prompted.

"Until she's found her peace."

"Peace," Mercy cried, folding back her wings. "The poor dear's at war with herself."

Gabriel looked surprised by her insight. "Leah must fully accept her inability to bear a child before the invisible threads that bind her fall away," Gabriel explained. "Then and only then will she be ready."

"This is my mission, to show Leah the way to peace?" The tentacles of dread gripped Mercy's tender heart. Gabriel was seeking the impossible. She longed to help this woman of the earth, longed to ease the pain of her loneliness and the desolation of her soul. Slowly Mercy shook her head, wondering how she, an inexperienced prayer ambassador, would break through the barrier of Leah's misery and lead her to the warm, sandy shores of serenity.

"You may choose to refuse," Gabriel announced formally.

"I would never do that," Mercy said, surprising herself with the strength of her fervor. She didn't know how she'd manage but somehow, some way, she'd find a means of accomplishing her mission. One thing she'd learned since her appointment as a prayer ambassador. With God's help she could forge a path where there hadn't been one before. With God's help she would make a way where there was none.

"I can't spare you any longer than three weeks, earth time," Gabriel reminded her. "Not with the New Year coming on. You know what it's like around here when people start making resolutions. By the middle of January, earthlings decide to take one last-ditch effort and try prayer."

"Only three weeks," Mercy repeated slowly. Even now she was having a difficult time pulling her gaze away from the scene between Leah and her husband.

"You'll contact me with any problems?" Gabriel asked.

Mercy bristled. The archangel's offer insinuated that she'd encounter more than her share, which was an unfair assumption. It was true she'd had trouble with the last assignment, had gotten sidetracked a time or two, but she successfully managed to complete her mission.

"There's no physical reason why Leah can't become pregnant?" Mercy asked, wanting to be certain she had her facts straight. The last thing she wanted was to walk into the middle of a prayer request without adequate information.

"None whatsoever," Gabriel stated matter of factly. "Leah and Andrew have been to see every fertility specialist on the West Coast."

"What about adoption?"

"They applied five years ago, but the waiting list is several years long. They were chosen by a birth mother and then bitterly disappointed when she changed her mind at the last minute. They withdrew their name shortly afterwards."

"How very