Forever Angels

  Forever Angels

  Trana Mae Simmons

  ***

  Copyright 1995, 2011 by Trana Mae Simmons

  Forever Angels originally published as

  A Leisure Love Spell by Dorchester Publishing

  in 1995

  Witch Angel Excerpt Copyright 2005, 2011, 2012

  by Trana Mae Simmons

  Witch Angel originally published

  Five Star Publishing in 2005

  Republishing January 2012

  By Belgrave House

  Cover Design and copyright

  by Angela Rogers

  Misadvmom @ yahoo.com

  Smashwords Edition

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, or by any means existing now or in the future, in whole or in part, without the express written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  ***

  Reviews for Forever Angels:

  Forever Angels is the launch title for An Angel's Touch Line. It garnered excellent reviews as a time travel/angel romance.

  Ms. Simmons creates a wonderfully engaging pair of lovers whose relationship develops with fire and sass. Add in a pair of mischievous angels who know just how to tickle your fancy, and you get heavenly reading indeed. 4 STARS, M. Helfer, Romantic Times Magazine

  This is one angel book not to miss…bring a hanky…you never know when an angel might sneeze. Cheryl Rovang, Cogswell Publishing

  ***

  Discover Other E-book Romances by

  Trana Mae Simmons:

  Chrissy's Wish

  Mountain Magic

  Tennessee Waltz

  Town Social

  Winter Dreams

  Bittersweet Promises

  Montana Surrender

  Available Soon as E-books:

  Witch Angel by Belgrave Books in January 2012

  Spellbound by Belgrave Books in February 2012

  Southern Charms by Belgrave Books in March 2012

  ***

  Paranormal Mystery E-Books:

  Writing as T. M. Simmons

  Dead Man Talking

  Dead Man Haunt

  Dead Man Hand (available soon)

  True Ghost Story E-books Writing as T. M. Simmons:

  Ghost Hunting Diary Volume I

  Ghost Hunting Diary, Volume II

  Ghost Hunting Diary Volume III (available soon)

  ***

  Dedication

  This e-book version of Forever Angels is dedicated

  to all of my fellow indie authors venturing into this

  new world of self-publishing,

  And

  All of the wonderful readers who follow us,

  as well as those who still enjoy the

  feel and smell of a paper book.

  I hope our expanding publishing world

  will make our work available to everyone.

  ***

  Chapter 1

  New York City

  9:00 p.m.

  July 30, 1993

  Michael stared around the expensively decorated New York City office in disgust. "I don't see how people can stand being cooped up inside four walls, reading books and papers all the time," he said around the cigar stub in his mouth. "Give me the open road any day."

  "Shhhh!" Angela whispered.

  Michael lifted a quizzical eyebrow at the blond-haired angel on the other end of the cloud. "You told me that she couldn't see or hear us, unless we wanted her to."

  Angela bristled slightly at the challenge in her pudgy, gray-haired companion's voice, tensing her wings to keep them from fluttering in agitation.

  "She can't. But you're supposed to be paying attention to your assignment, not complaining about where you have to perform it."

  "Dash nab it!" Michael griped when he took a step forward and caught his toe on the hem of his white robe. He fluttered his wings frantically, barely righting himself before he tumbled straight into Angela and knocked them both off the cloud.

  "I'm never gonna get the hang of this!" Michael growled, jerking on the skirt of his robe to raise it so he could stomp back from the edge of the cloud. "How did you women walk in those danged long dresses when you were alive?"

  "Please! Watch your language!"

  "Now what'd I say?"

  Angela sighed and shook her head. Probably she should look on it as a challenge, she guessed. After all, Michael had only arrived a week ago, while she had a hundred years' experience to pass on to him.

  What in heaven had ever made Michael decide he wanted to be a guardian angel, Angela asked herself as she slipped a sideways look at him. She would just have to do the best she could to teach him what he needed to know, since tutoring him was her own assignment. And she was a bit grumpy herself, although she tried her best to suppress it by remembering that she'd had other slow-to-learn pupils — both in life and afterwards.

  Of course, part of her irritation lingered from the scene she and Michael had witnessed earlier in the day, Angela admitted. She looked down at the teary-eyed figure standing in front of the window in the office where she and Michael floated invisibly on their cloud. The darkness beyond the window mirrored the reflection in the glass pane.

  Michael's first assignment wore a conservatively-styled navy business suit, entirely proper attire for her position as an up-and-coming member of one of New York's oldest law firms. But she managed a touch here and there to confirm her femininity — a small ruffle of lace on her pale blue blouse, and a fashionably short skirt that emphasized her long, slender legs.

  During business hours she wore that glorious mass of auburn hair tightly cinched with a plain barette, but she had pulled the barette out over an hour ago to run her fingers through her hair and massage her scalp. Springy curls fell around her face and past her shoulders. Even in the vague window reflection, Angela could see those lovely green eyes, misty now with unshed tears.

  The woman stood in front of the window now — not the sharp-minded attorney who had clawed her way up from a poverty stricken, male dominated background to a career on the verge culminating in a partnership in the firm. She would be the only woman partner in the firm if she successfully litigated the case contained in the file folders spread over her desk. The founder of the firm himself had hinted strongly of what the reward would be in the staff meeting where she had laid out her ideas for defense of their client.

  Angela had watched the long overdue strides of women on earth with interest during her tenure as a guardian angel. After all, she had been a woman once herself. She knew how much this career move meant to Tess Foster, the woman Michael was assigned to protect against harm.

  But one thing hadn't seemed to change over the years. At times women still tried to pick their men with their minds instead of their hearts. Just look at how a bright woman like Tess Foster had become involved with that lout who was now her former fiance.

  Whoops. Guardian angels weren't supposed to make judgments on the character of the people they obser
ved in their assignments.

  "Well, I can think of a word worse than lout to call that self-righteous fool," Michael responded when he read Angela's mind.

  "Michael!" Angela shook her head and pursed her lips in disapproval.

  "Uh oh," Michael said, motioning Angela to silence. "I think she's had about enough of feeling sorry for herself. Look."

  The angels crouched to peer over the edge of the cloud, their eyes wide with dismay as they watched Tess stride from the window and sweep the files from her desk. Papers flew around the room, but the heavy folders landed on the thick carpet without a sound. Tess clenched her jaws and aimed a kick at the nearest folder, smiling grimly when it skidded across the carpet and landed with a thump against the bookcase lining one wall of her office.

  "Boy, she's got a temper, doesn't she?" Michael whispered. "I'll bet she wishes that folder was her boyfriend's head."

  "I can't say as I blame her," Angela admitted. "Oh dear, there she goes. Come on."

  Grabbing Michael by the hand, Angela whisked them both through the door a second after Tess slammed it.

  ~~

  Adirondack Mountains

  New York State

  6:00 a.m.

  July 31, 1993

  She wasn't going to cry. Damn it, she was not going to cry again!

  After an all night drive, Tess steered her little station wagon into the Keene Valley parking lot just after daybreak, and pulled into a marked space. She shut off the engine and leaned her head back against the seat, breathing deeply of the clear mountain air flowing through her open window.

  After what had happened yesterday afternoon, she needed this trip desperately. The tall buildings in the city crowded in on her — the noxious exhaust fumes tainting the air she breathed, deepening her depression. Trying to force herself to concentrate on reviewing the files in prepartion for the imminent trial had proved useless. Only here, in the Adirondack wilderness area that reminded her so much of the West Virginia mountains, Granny and home, could the healing start.

  "Tess Foster. Haven't seen you up here in a while, Tess. Are you all right?"

  Tess took firm hold on her emotions and opened her eyes, reaching for the door handle. "I'm fine, Freddy," she told the red-haired ranger as she climbed out of the car. "I was just enjoying the cool air."

  "I hear it's hot as blazes in the city," Freddy said with a grin. "I feel sorry for you folks back there. Not sorry enough to come visit you, though. You ought to get out of that rat race more often."

  "I will...from now on." Tess opened the wagon back and lifted out her backpack, slinging it over one shoulder until she started up the hiking trail.

  "How are the trails?" she asked Freddy.

  "Where you headed?"

  "As far as I can go in a day."

  "Figured that, knowing you. Well, we've closed some of the higher trails to less experienced hikers. Had some slides after that rain last week. You'll probably be all right, though, as long as you're careful."

  "Then I guess I'll head up the Range Trail — plan on spending the night on Mt. Marcy."

  "Beautiful trail." Freddy nodded and made a notation on the clipboard in his hand. "Watch your step going down Saddleback. It can get rough there near some of the cliff faces."

  "I will."

  "See you tomorrow evening then. Have a good hike."

  ~~

  Several hours later, Tess brushed away yet another tear and blinked angrily as she trudged up Saddleback Mountain's eastern slope. Pausing for a second, she leaned against a tree and gazed out over the scenic vista on her left, hoping some of the pristine beauty would work its magic and soothe her shattered spirit.

  Far below a tiny road snaked through the valley, barely visible from this height. The bright sun had long ago burned off any lingering mists, yet the breeze counteracted the heat. The wind whispered through the treetops for the most part, a faint accompaniment to the bird and squirrel chatter.

  Maybe she should have stayed on the Johns Brook Trail, since she hadn't hiked in a while. She could already feel a slight strain in her calves from the climb. Johns Brook was definitely safer than the Range, but there she would have been rubbing elbows with dozens of other backpackers. At least she had a measure of solitude up here.

  And besides, the very safety of the Brook Trail negated any chance of a hiker having a view as beautiful as this, where huge pines and birch covered the slope below. Higher on the surrounding mountain peaks the trees thinned out, allowing hikers to gaze across scenery so beautiful it almost made their eyes ache.

  Tess frowned at the view, as though it were the view's fault that another tear trickled down her cheek.

  Hell, it wasn't really a total surprise. Things had begun to fall apart almost as soon as Robert slipped the diamond on her finger.

  Tess turned back up the trail and immediately stumbled on a jutting rock, wincing at the pain in her toe. This was stupid. She'd better watch out or she'd tumble down the mountainside. Freddy wouldn't let her back up here if he had to come rescue her.

  Tess readjusted her backpack, which had slipped sideways when she stumbled. When she lowered her hand, a sun streak shot into her eye and she glared at the engagement ring. Now it seemed rather ostentatious, but she had been so proud of it at first. Proud of Robert, too. And, yes, just a little bit proud of herself for making such a catch — a man who epitomized the dream of the perfect husband she had carried in her mind for so long.

  Robert, so tall and blond, with blue eyes that gazed at her as though she were the only woman worth noticing in a room full of stunning women. Trouble was, he made any woman he spoke to feel the same way.

  Robert, from old money and old blood lines, traced all the way back to a ship arriving just years after the Mayflower — and, oh, so very proud of that, too. No one mentioned that the first Styvesant might have been an indentured servant — or a convict sent to America as his punishment — since no trace of Robert's side of the family could be found in England. Instead, the family insisted that, at the very worst, Gerald Styvesant might have been a bastard son of a titled family.

  Robert, whose usually unlined brow creased in puzzlement when Tess adamantly refused to even consider signing the prenuptial agreement in his attorney's office yesterday. After all....

  Tess swiped at another stray tear trailing down her cheek. After all, Robert's somewhat high-pitched voice echoed in her head, she couldn't expect to have any claim to the money that had been in his family for so many generations if their marriage failed. And, though he loved Tess with every fiber of his being, who knew what the future would bring? Surely Tess didn't think that if for some silly reason he slipped and had a one-night stand, she would be able to make him pay by giving up half his trust fund. Not that it would ever happen, Robert assured Tess.

  "Why did I ever think it would work?" Tess muttered. "Hell, he's never been backpacking in his life, and I can't stand to go even a month without some time in the wilderness. I get seasick — he loves sailing. O.K. So we both love to ride. But I can't stand those damned English saddles, and I'll be double damned if I ever learn to post when my horse trots!"

  Tess paused for breath when she realized she was gasping her words, the exertion of her too fast climb as her feet pounded in time to the angry words in her mind making her short of breath. She'd never make the peak without a long rest if she didn't start pacing herself.

  Sweeping a lock of auburn hair from the side of her face, Tess glared at a chattering squirrel sitting on an overhanging limb on the trail.

  "That stupid agreement just brought all the doubts I'd been having about the entire engagement together," she told the squirrel. "He didn't even tell me ahead of time why he wanted me to meet him there! Funny thing is, I was tempted to sign it, just so I wouldn't have to face the fact that it was over. Try to prove to him that I wasn't interested in his damned money."

  The squirrel swished its tail at her and scurried away through the treetops, leaping from limb to limb. A brigh
t blue jay swooped from its perch, its loud squawks of "thief! thief!" signalling its displeasure at being disturbed by Tess and the squirrel.

  "Oh, shoot," Tess mumbled as she hung her head. Glancing down at her hand, she quirked her lips wryly and slowly reached for the diamond. With a deep sigh, she twisted the ring from her finger and stared at it for a moment, moving it back and forth in a sun ray. Shatters of sunlight reflected into her green eyes.

  Tess finally slipped the ring into a pocket in her tight denims and bent slightly forward to resume her walk up the mountain trail.

  ~~

  Oklahoma Territory

  July 31, 1893

  "If you're here for the reason I think you are, Tillie Peterson, you can turn that damned buggy right back around and head for town!"

  "You're well aware of why I'm here, Stone Chisum! You have to listen to reason. Those children will be better off with their own people."

  "Those children are my children. Legally adopted and mine to raise. Some misguided busybody's not going to interfere in my family!"

  Mrs. Peterson tightened her fat fingers around the reins and huffed out an indignant puff of breath. "How dare you!"

  "I'll dare whatever I have to in order to protect my kids," Stone said in a steely voice.

  "Oh!" Mrs. Peterson's washed-out blue eyes crinkled malevolently. "And I suppose if I try to argue with you any more, you'll strap that gun you used to wear back on and shoot me with it!"