The Troublesome Angel

Stacy picked up her mug of hot cocoa, wrapped both hands around it to enjoy the warmth and took a sip. “No. I’m all done. The last of my tracking demonstrations were over by late yesterday. That’s one of the reasons I was free to respond when we got your call. Everybody else is still committed to wrapping up their classes.”

“I’ll bet that was no accident. I was sure praying you’d be the one they sent.”

“I’m glad, too. I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t taken time for my friends. I’ve really missed you guys.”

“We understand how it is. I’m just sorry it turned out to be the Paynes who needed your help.”

Thoughtful, Stacy nodded and sighed. “Yeah. Me, too. For more reasons than one.” Ever since she’d stepped off the plane and encountered Graydon she’d been feeling an uncomfortable pricking at the edges of her conscience. “I’m afraid the Lord may be trying to nudge me about something.”

“Like what?” Leaning closer, Judy added, “Forgiveness?”

That insight took Stacy by surprise. Her eyes widened. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

“I didn’t. But I know you. It’s not like you to hold a grudge or be unfriendly toward anybody. I think it’s possible the Lord threw Graydon Payne in your path to get you to face the old hostility you’ve hung on to for so long.”

The idea did not sit well with Stacy. Caught up in the pathos and excitement of Missy’s rescue, she’d managed to temporarily set aside her intense, long-standing dislike for Graydon and his stuffy family. Now it was back.

She knew it was wrong to harbor resentment. She also knew she wasn’t ready to lower her guard and give up the protection those hostile feelings provided. They were necessary for her emotional well-being.

Purposely changing the subject, Stacy said, “I was hoping you or Angela could spare an hour or so to drive me home in the morning.”

“Sure.” Judy relaxed, leaned back. “Anything for a hero.”

“Cut that out. I’m not—”

The dogs perked up and stared at the door. A loud knock sounded. Lewis growled. Clark jumped up, tail wagging.

“If that’s more reporters, please don’t let them in.” Stacy yawned. “I’m too tired to make good sense.”

“Right.” Judy’s outlandish bunny slippers made a swishing sound as she padded to the door, followed closely by the younger dog. “Who is it?”

A man’s voice said, “Special delivery for Ms. Lucas.”

“Try again,” Judy countered. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of nowhere. The post office has enough trouble delivering our regular mail. No way is there a special delivery at this time of night.”

In spite of her weariness, Stacy joined her, and pressed her ear to the door. “Who is it?”

“Santa Claus?” the voice ventured. He waited, then tried again. “How about Howard Hughes?”

“It’s Graydon Payne,” Stacy deduced, scowling. “It has to be. Look how Clark’s tail is wagging.” Louder, she called, “What do you want?”

“To give you something.”

“There’s nothing you have that I want.”

“Then take it as a gift for the rescue program.”

Judy nudged her. “He’s got a point there. No use turning down a donation.”

“Slip it under the door.”

Casting her friend a disparaging glance, Judy opened the door instead. “Come on in. Only one of us bites, and it’s not the dogs.”

Graydon paused to lean down and greet Clark with, “Hi, buddy. Did you miss me?” He ruffled the dog’s silky ears as he entered the cozy cabin. “You did, didn’t you? I knew we were pals.”

“Hah!” Stacy wasn’t impressed, even if her idiotic dog had chosen that particular moment to roll over on his back at the man’s feet and beg to have his tummy scratched. That act of submission meant Clark trusted Graydon implicitly.

“Don’t pay any attention to her,” Judy said, gesturing at Stacy. “She’s always like this when she’s dead tired.”

“Grouchy?” He straightened, smiling.

“Catatonic. I’ve seen her practically fall asleep leaning against a tree…standing up.”

“That must make quite a picture.”

His wry smile and knowing gaze amused Stacy in spite of herself. “Watch for film at eleven,” she quipped. “The news crews just left.”

“I thought you were avoiding them.”

“I don’t like catching a cold, either, but some things are inevitable.”

“True.”

They were standing just inside the door, facing each other. Stacy’s weary brain was devoid of small talk. She looked up at him, intending to close their conversation, and was astonished to note an appealing sparkle in his eyes. They were dark-brown with a golden cast, not blue, like Mark’s. And his chin was more square, more masculine. Right now it was shadowed with a day’s growth of beard, giving him a rugged look. It was a definite improvement.

Noting her awareness, he raised an eyebrow and raked his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “Is something wrong?”

If Stacy hadn’t been so tired she might have censored her reply more carefully. Instead, she said, “Nope. I was just noticing how human you look when you’re not so perfectly groomed.”

“Oh, I see.” He began to chuckle. “You look different, too. Either that outfit stretched or you shrank. It makes you look like a teenager. Kind of cute.”

Blushing, Stacy refused to look away and give him the last word. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Too bad. Guess I’ll have to come up with another approach the next time I want to impress you.”

“There won’t be any next time,” she countered. “After tonight I doubt we’ll ever meet again.”

He sobered. “I suppose you’re right. Which is why I stopped by.” Reaching into the pocket of his jacket he took out a check. “We want you to have this. Call it a reward, if you like.”

She hesitated several long seconds before giving in. “All right. I’ll take it. But only because the rescue program needs the financial support.”

“Of course.”

“I mean it. None of this is for me.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” he said quietly. “I believe you.”

Looking up at him, she scrutinized his expression as she asked, “Why?”