Destined to Fall (An Angel Falls Book 5) Read online

  Steven stares at his feet and takes a hesitant step forward. He raises his gaze. “Are you…? But I thought…”

  He can’t finish the question as emotions swell. His gaze darts from me to her to his body.

  She smiles brighter and says, “I’ve waited for so long to speak to you, Steven. Will you join me now?” She holds a hand out to him, inviting him to take it.

  “She would like to know her son,” I say softly. “I think you’ve been separated long enough, Steven.”

  He takes one last look at me and walks into the rift. He wraps his hand around his mother’s and crosses without another thought of his finished life.

  I close the pathway and sink to my knees. In my body, I want to feel the ground dig into me. I want to smell the smoke and cry out to the sky. I want the agony of my loss to consume me completely so I will never want something so badly again. He’s gone and my chance to have a life with Juliana went with him.

  A wide jagged rock lies on the ground a few feet in front of me. I consider banging my head against it and knocking myself out like Steven did, but it won’t make any difference. I’m already dead. The dead don’t die again. The dead don’t rise again. It’s a fairytale with one reader. Me. Dreaming of the unattainable.

  ∞

  “What in the dickens do you think you’re doing?”

  I stare at the mangled chicken thigh and leg on the cutting board. I’ve cut them up so the bone sticks out and the meat hangs off the side. Not really caring, I scoop up the mess with the edge of my knife against my hand and drop it into the pot.

  “Cooking dinner.”

  “Nathaniel, it’s six o’clock in the morning,” Vivi says as she tightens her bathrobe and gives me a penetrating glare.

  Instead of replying to the obvious blunder I’ve made about which meal I should be making, I turn to the onion, celery, and carrots. “This is my last day on the ranch and I thought you should have a decent meal.”

  “What do you mean last day?” she asks with a scoff.

  Vivi works around me in the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee.

  Before entering the house, I chopped and stacked firewood while waiting for the sun to rise. The repetitive, mindless chore had to be done to help Vivi stay warm in her massive log home. I ran out of logs to split and didn’t want to start the chainsaw. Part of me must have known my employer was still asleep. Why that didn’t translate to cooking breakfast instead of dinner is as much a mystery to me as it is to her. As I worked on the firewood, I was also waiting for a new assignment. The pull on my spirit to be with my next suicidal client didn’t happen. And now I’m cooking.

  “Listen here, Nathaniel. You’re contracted to work here until I’m worm fodder and long after I become the next year’s flowers.”

  I chop vegetables on the cutting board as the coffee maker begins to gurgle.

  “I’ve never signed a thing, Vivi.”

  “Signatures are needed between friends now, eh?”

  I sense her hard green gaze on me, but it doesn’t change my mind. “This is pointless. I can’t keep pretending. I’m not a rancher. I have other responsibilities.”

  “Damn right, you do. To me, for starters. We made a deal and you’re not getting out of it because your ego has taken a beating.”

  “It’s not about my ego,” I defend.

  She moves to the cupboard and grabs her favorite coffee cup. I hear her wheeze and know a cough is coming. Vivi is dying or recovering from cancer. She rarely shares the details of her illness with me, preferring to bear the burden alone. But she opened her home to me and allows me to ease some of her discomfort by channeling healing energy for her. She also hired me as a caretaker and ranch hand. After what happened with Steven, I decided the job wasn’t meant for me. I scrape the last of the vegetables into the pot, rinse my hands, and move to her side. Even if she’s perturbed with my resignation, she’s still my friend, and I won’t let her hack until she’s blue in the face.

  After the spasms in her lungs settle, I retrieve the ingredients for the medicinal tea that helps ease her symptoms. She’ll drink it with her coffee if I put it in front of her.

  “I thought Juliana was a sweet girl. I’m surprised she broke it off with you so soon,” Vivi says to my back.

  The clinking of her spoon as she mixes sugar in her coffee is a familiar morning sound. It’s surprising how much I’ve grown used to Vivi’s habits, even though we haven’t known each other long.

  “She didn’t break up with me,” I say.

  “Well, what else would have you spewing such nonsense at the crack of dawn?”

  “I will continue to stop by and check on you, but I’ll never have my life back so there’s no need for a paying job. My afterlife involves babysitting the dead and dying and that’s it.”

  Vivi shuffles her slippered feet past me and sits at the dining table on the other side of the long counter.

  “Since this is your last day,” she says. Her tone of voice has switched from scorn to all business. “How about two eggs over easy and toast with jam? After which, I would like you to finish clearing out the guestrooms. Then I need you to move the piano in the living room. The dust under that thing would have the fairies sneezing for weeks.”

  “Is that all?” I ask dryly.

  “No. It’s not. I need help moving about two tons of topsoil into the greenhouse, and I want you to help me turn over one of the garden beds to prepare for the fall planting.”

  I sprinkle salt, pepper, and parsley into the pot of what should be chicken and dumplings but a key ingredient is missing. The cans of chicken broth stare at me from the counter and it takes way longer than it should for me to realize I haven’t poured them in yet. The mental distractions have my head so far up my backside that it’s making cooking a nearly impossible task. I open the cans and pour them into the pot then start brewing Vivi’s tea. We have an unspoken arrangement since we met and she became aware of my presence as her angel. When I’m around, I make her breakfast. Otherwise, she’ll drink coffee, often with a shot of Scotch in it. In my opinion, that isn’t a suitable meal for any elderly sick woman. I crack eggs over the frying pan and slip slices of bread into the toaster.

  “You might as well spill the rest of it, young man. You’re moping about is intolerable.”

  “I am intolerable. I don’t know why you or Juliana deal with me.” I scrub my fingers over my scalp. “I’m going to focus on the service I committed myself to. I never asked for it, but I guess this is where I’m supposed to be. I manage a never-ending turnstile of needy spirits crossing over.”

  “We’re having a pity party, are we?” she asks and takes a sip of coffee. “It’s not for me to judge, but you stink at this.”

  I place a plate of food in front of her and consider her list of chores. None of it is a problem and I could complete the list easily, except for the guestroom closets. That takes two of us because she wants to see what has been stored away and knowing Vivi, she’ll only work on it a couple of hours at a time before taking a break.

  “I’m intolerable and stinky. Go ahead and add miserable and grumpy, too.”

  “You had one failing and you’re already giving up. What kind of man are you?” she accuses.

  “You don’t understand, Vivian. He wanted to take my place as Angel of Death and I said no. I can’t walk away from this. I’m stuck.”

  “You are not,” she says. “Tell me why you didn’t choose him.”

  “Because he would have used the angelic powers inappropriately. He wanted to play games and manipulate people.”

  She takes a forkful of eggs and is quiet for a minute. I strain the tea, place the mug on the table, and begin cleaning up the hellacious mess I’ve made in the kitchen.

  “Well, now, I think I’ve figured it all out. Become my personal slave. Stay here where you’re protected in the boundary lines around the house and your pretty girlfriend can come over any time she wants.”

  “That will never work. The guilt
would eat me alive. Souls would be wandering around lost without me there to open the path to the other side.”

  “I’m not serious, you fool.”

  Her mockery is at first lost on me, but it sinks in to my core seconds later.

  “What is the problem, Nathaniel? You wouldn’t let another idiot loose on the world. Good for you. Now, go back out there and find the right person to take your place.”

  “I know it’s not going to happen.” I stop washing the dishes to give Vivi my full attention. “This decision is bigger than me. My wish to be with Juliana and have a normal life is nothing compared to the needs of the world. Life is vast and I am a tiny unimportant speck in this universe.”

  “A dream is the grandest thing of all. Don’t let the teeth of fear take you by the throat and rip out your hope.”

  “That’s my point. My hopes don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

  “Stranger relationships have succeeded long before yours and Juliana’s. The moon has never stopped chasing the sun. They have perfect harmony with each other. Find the balance between work, play, and including Juliana in your life.”

  I sigh and return to the dishes. “In other words, get off my pity throne and get on with my life because the sun keeps shining whether I want it to or not.”

  “You got it,” she says, and takes a bite of toast.

  Chapter Nineteen: Teasing

  Juliana

  Officer Suarez is itching to detain me for something. I sense his misplaced judgments and accusations needling me from ten yards away. Chris finishes relaying the details of what transpired over the last couple of days to Suarez and then I’m not sure what happens next. Will the officer take me to the police station and make my mother come pick me up? He has no legal reason to arrest me. It’s not my fault we ended up being tangled in the middle of a horse raiding ring. My main concern is Chris, his father, and the horses, not answering a mile-long list of questions.

  Dominic is a constant topic of conversation being replayed like bad Christmas music. All I know is, he’s gone. He rode away on the only horse we couldn’t save. I can honestly tell the authorities a young male named Steven, whom I don’t know, started the fire and fled the area.

  Paramedics examine Chris and Arrio. Chris’s bruises make me shudder, but he refuses to be taken to the hospital. The EMT is a friend of White Wolf’s and he tapes Chris’s ribs without much hesitancy.

  A truck towing a horse trailer arrives at our midnight emergency and the driver claims two of the horses and has the paperwork to prove it. He thanks White Wolf and Chris with a handshake and leaves.

  Nighttime continues at the normal speed of our revolving planet, but every minute feels like a passing year. An occasional breeze lifts my hair and blows it into my face, but all I think about is the wind feeding the distant flames. The heat of the wildfire lingers on my skin and the smell of smoke clings to my clothes.

  Star’s magic spell has worn off and I’m no longer protected. It doesn’t matter. All but one of the horses made it out safe. Using the entire vial of flower petals was worth it.

  My cell phone is still dead and I’m not sure if the battery needs a charge or it’s a goner. Jared’s concert has to be over by now. The bands are probably partying and winding down after the night on stage. If there’s any regret inside me about tonight, it would be for missing his show. If we could finish up with Mr. Suspicious Officer, I would be trying to get a hold of my brother right now.

  Chris shakes Officer Suarez’s hand and walks over. His usual mask of indifference and slightly-pissed-off-about-the-world look is only skewed because one eye is swollen shut. He reminds me of a brooding Cyclops.

  “No one-eyed remarks, please,” he says as he opens the driver’s side door of Vivi’s truck.

  “Can we finally leave?” I ask.

  “Yes. They have our promise that we will be available for more questions.”

  “I don’t see how they could need anything else. I told my entire life story tonight.”

  “They are being thorough, Juliana,” Chris says as if I should have more patience.

  He slams the door without saying anything else, so I climb in on the passenger side.

  “What is it?” he asks after I stare at him for a full two minutes.

  “Where are we going? What happens now? And for crying out loud, why did you involve me in all this? We were nearly killed. Did you know what was going to happen?” I’m rambling and asking too many questions, but it’s what happens to me when I have too much chi, or nerves, or estrogen, or something. I’m entitled to a little hysteria, aren’t I?

  “Did you know what was going to happen?” he asks as he stares out the windshield.

  Before I respond, White Wolf hops into the truck, eases onto the seat next to me and says, “We’re marking this night as the Moon of Bear’s Fire.”

  “Not now, Dad,” Chris says, and starts the engine.

  “Oh, yeah. It will be the story of our lifetime. Decades will pass before a horse raid of this caliber happens again.” Fetch barks once from the truck bed as if agreeing.

  “Humility, Wolf,” Chris says as a reminder.

  I look from the dog in the back to White Wolf at my side.

  He flashes a grin that transforms his knowing and deep shaman eyes into that of an impish kid and says, “Humility is overrated.”

  We pull away and I focus on the road. Sleepy hallucinations cloud my mind and I close my eyes. They’re not visions this time, only the remnants of yet another wildly unexpected night of this crazy summer.

  My head hits the rear window of the cab or the seat and I open my eyes. I’m disoriented as I peer into the dark. The stucco house at the end of the drive is vaguely familiar. What rings my bell with more clarity is the wood barn with the rustic planks and the large sliding door. The paddock fence alongside the driveway is also memorable. Vannah and Mika are home.

  Even before the big bay horse is out of the trailer, I can feel her relief. I volunteer to walk her over to the trough inside the paddock. She drinks as if she can’t get enough. The water level drops by measured feet as her and Mika quench their thirst. Vannah finally raises her dripping muzzle to stare at the barn. It amazes me how I know she’s anticipating hay and grain without her saying anything.

  “Are you all right, girl?” I ask as we walk over to the barn. Mika stumbles along behind us as we cross the packed earth of the paddock.

  White Wolf turns on the outdoor and indoor lights. He carries flakes of hay and fills the racks.

  Tired, but well. White Wolf was hard on us this time.

  “I hope he never asks you to do anything like this again. You could have been seriously injured,” I say.

  He is a good man. He loves us much. She snorts and shakes her head, one eye looking at me for an intense moment. Come and visit me again, she says before entering her stable and making a beeline for the hay.

  I let my hand slide over her flank. “I will.”

  Outside, I look around for Chris but only find the front door of the house standing ajar. Chris’s silhouetted figure appears in the lighted doorway. He opens the screen door and a jumble of dogs lope toward me. Three wet noses inspect every inch of my boots and jeans.

  Chris walks over and says, “Back off, varmints.”

  The dogs’ ears twitch and the pack runs off toward the barn.

  “My father invites you to sleep here. There’s plenty of room.”

  “I’d rather go home,” I say, and yawn. Driving again is the last thing I want to do, but sleeping in a stranger’s house in my smoke stained, sweaty horse clothes sounds even more uncomfortable.

  “Good. Me, too,” Chris says.

  White Wolf appears at our side and wraps an arm around Chris.

  “Arrrr...” he grunts and squeezes his son’s shoulders. “This brave warrior is someone you can count on, Julie. He’s a hard nut to crack, but worth the effort.”

  Chris grimaces. “We’re going home tonight.”
r />   “I knew you would,” White Wolf says. The older man palms the top of Chris’s head. He pulls his son forward and touches his forehead to Chris’s. He says something in their language, and I think I am beginning to recognize their word for Great Spirit.

  Chris says something very similar and then they separate. White Wolf turns to me and claps a hand on my shoulder. I try not to buckle under the weight of it.

  “Do me a favor and make my son go a little ape shit now and again. He needs to learn to lighten up.”

  “Okay,” I say, warily.

  “I’m serious,” White Wolf says as he reads my apprehension. “He teaches you the ways of spirit and you mess with his routine. It’s a beautiful thing.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I say.

  He gives me one of his grins and calls for the dogs. Tromping paws and jiggling dog collars follow the old man into the house as we walk back to the truck.

  “Do you mind driving?” I ask. The thought of driving the huge truck and trailer makes me want to fall asleep on the seat, or maybe hitchhike back to town.

  “I do not mind,” Chris says. “You need to tell me where my truck is.”

  “It’s at your house.”

  How long had it been since I parked his pickup at his house? Days? How many? Had he really been camping and roughing it this entire time. I look over at him as he settles behind the steering wheel. He definitely looks like he’s been living in the bush.

  “Don’t,” he says.

  “What?” I ask innocently.

  “Drive me ape shit.”

  “I seriously doubt I can help myself.”

  “True. We’re almost done with our lesson. You will not have much more time to accomplish my father’s request.”

  “Done? We have hardly started,” I say.

  “You have learned much in the last twenty-four hours, Ant.”