“Is Laurel home?” he asked breathlessly.

  “Not yet,” Helen said, looking at him quizzically. “My goodness, Zach, where’s the fire?”

  “I’ll explain in a minute.” He dashed into the nursery and tucked the clothes and cigars into the bottom drawer of the dresser. Confident that his secret was secure, he quickly closed the drawer and exited.

  With both items safely out of sight, he gave a huge sigh of relief and joined the ladies in the living room. He prayed he had pulled this off without Laurel ever knowing.

  Mrs. Miracle, he noticed, paid avid attention to her knitting, wearing a rather amused smile, while Nana studied Zach, her eyes wide with curiosity.

  “What was that all about?” Helen asked, setting her knitting aside.

  “Long story,” Zach replied, unwilling to explain.

  Helen’s face softened. “You got a special Christmas gift for Laurel, and you wanted to hide it before she got home. You’re so thoughtful, Zach. I’m glad she has you in her life.”

  Zach pretended to ignore Helen’s compliment, which, with his guilt, didn’t feel like one.

  “How did the white-elephant exchange go this afternoon?” Mrs. Miracle asked.

  Zach snapped his head around toward the older woman. He didn’t recall mentioning anything about the gift exchange to her or to Helen.

  Mrs. Miracle continued to nonchalantly tug away on her skein of yarn, awaiting his reply.

  “It went fine,” he said, being as vague as possible.

  “Oh yes, the gift exchange,” Helen said. “Laurel mentioned you were taking that funny-looking polka-dot sweater you got last Christmas.”

  “I did.”

  “What crazy gift did you get this time around?”

  The direct question was difficult to avoid, so he mustered up a generic reply. “It was something goofy, as usual.”

  “But a useful one,” Mrs. Miracle added, seeming to have some sort of insider information. “Something you might well need, and soon.”

  “Perhaps,” Zach said with a confused look on his face. She made it sound like she knew what he’d unwrapped at the office gift exchange that afternoon.

  Mrs. Miracle laid aside her knitting. A serious look came over her face. “Zach, you do realize that God hears our prayers, don’t you?”

  He stared at her, surprised by her question. Was she implying that she knew all about his prayer at his desk that afternoon? Maybe he and Laurel had taken this stranger at face value, never questioning her sudden appearance at their front door. Granted, Mrs. Miracle was doing a great job with Laurel’s grandmother, but that wasn’t the problem. This woman seemed to know far more than she should. Something wasn’t right. Zach silently determined that it was time to check into her background and find out who exactly this woman was.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  When Laurel awoke, Zach was already down in the kitchen getting their morning coffee ready, earlier than normal. Slipping out of bed, she quickly showered and dressed, then headed down to the kitchen.

  “I’m surprised you’re ready this early,” Zach said as he fixed the collar on his shirt and threw a pull-on sweater over his head while she poured a cup of coffee.

  “I need to get to the school early,” she reminded him. With the holiday program just days away there were several loose ends she needed to take care of, and mornings were her best time. By the end of the school day, she was rattle-brained, and she worried that she might overlook something. She wanted to kick herself for volunteering to oversee the entire program. What had she been thinking?

  “How’s the production shaping up?”

  Laurel took that first restorative sip. “About as good as can be expected.”

  “I meant to tell you the other day—I got the time off, so I’ll be there.”

  “You did?” For him to ask for time off at this time of year was big, and she hadn’t asked him to go, not wanting to put any extra pressure on him. Although he rarely spoke about his own commitments when it came to work, she knew he was heading up a large project with pending deadlines.

  “I’m so glad.”

  His bagel popped up from the toaster, and he offered Laurel a shy smile. He added cream cheese and took his first bite.

  “I hate to put anything more on your plate, Laurel, but I need you to do something for me.” His forehead creased with a thick frown. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t feel strongly about it.”

  “What do you need?”

  Zach set his bagel aside and looked down at it like the poppy seeds on top were ready to offer him insight and wisdom. “That first agency you called, asking about hiring a home companion for your grandmother…”

  “Yes, the Caring Angels. What about it?”

  “Would you contact them again and ask about Mrs. Miracle’s references? Something doesn’t feel right about her.”

  “You don’t like Mrs. Miracle?”

  “Helen told me her real name is Merkel. Be sure and give that name to the agency.”

  “I will. But why? What aren’t you telling me?” As far as Laurel was concerned, the woman has been nothing but wonderful. “Did something happen last night that I don’t know about?” Maybe this was why Zach had been acting so strange.

  “Well, for one thing, she claims she’s an angel.”

  “But did she make that claim?” Laurel returned, confused by his need to dig into their home companion’s work history. “It’s Nana who insisted on that. Not Mrs. Miracle or Merkel—whatever name she goes by.” Laurel didn’t mean to sound defensive, but the woman had been an answer to their prayers. The changes in Nana since Mrs. Miracle’s arrival were night and day. Hiring the companion had made all the difference in the world. Laurel could leave for school each day with all the worry lifted from her shoulders.

  “Please, just call. I swear there’s something fishy about her. I think we need to find out what we can, just to make sure your grandmother is in good hands when we leave. We never checked her story or asked about her previous work history, not to mention all this hullabaloo about her being an angel.”

  “But you were the one who told me that if Nana wanted to believe her caregiver was an angel, then we should let her.”

  “Of course, I remember.”

  “I still don’t understand why all this concern. What aren’t you telling me?”

  He didn’t answer, and Laurel could tell he was struggling to put his thoughts into words.

  “Zach,” she said, doing her best to remain calm and reasonable. “You have to agree that Mrs. Miracle has been exactly what Nana needed.”

  Zach’s shoulders lifted with a sigh and he turned away from her. Something strange was going on. Laurel couldn’t put her finger on it. He was hiding something from her; she was certain of it. Her suspicions had been aroused in the last few weeks, but she’d convinced herself it was her imagination. There’d been nothing overt, just this distance she’d been feeling. An emotional distance. He’d been on edge—jumpy—like he was keeping a secret. She trusted him completely, or so she thought. A brief thought of an affair had crossed her mind, but she refused to believe it. She almost laughed at the thought of it, knowing that neither of them could afford an affair, let alone desire another person. Still, she felt something was off with her husband. Way off. She knew she needed to get to the bottom of whatever it was. She’d confront him this evening.

  He turned to face her. “I understood you like Mrs. Miracle. I do, too. If you must know, she seems to know things that she shouldn’t.”

  “Such as?”

  “Please, Laurel, just call them. If you can’t, I’ll make a point to do it myself, but you were the one who filled out the application and talked to the agency in the first place. I’d rather you did this.”

  “All right, I’ll make the call.”

  “Thank you.” With a quick kiss on her cheek, Zach headed out the door.

  Laurel reached for the half-bagel he’d left behind. As she chewed, she reconsidered Zach’s request. What he said was true. Laurel had felt it herself. The caregiver did seem to know far more about their circumstances than what Nana might have shared with her.

  The home companion wasn’t anything like what Laurel had expected. All the extra hours Mrs. Miracle had put in were remarkable, especially when she insisted that she wouldn’t need to be paid overtime. Then there were the homemade meals every night when they came home from work. The extra effort to make Nana’s daily life more enjoyable, with the addition of outings that Nana truly seemed to enjoy.

  Now that she thought about it, Laurel saw other oddities. The unexpectedness of her arrival that first evening, without an advance call from the agency. The Christmas tree, extravagantly decorated. And the lost ornaments from years gone by, especially the crumbled, precious homemade bell that had miraculously reappeared out of nowhere. It couldn’t possibly be the same ornament. And yet there it was, hanging on the tree again.

  Details started adding up in her head. Questions that defied answers. Unusual events that seemed impossible.

  Zach was right. There was good reason for Laurel to contact the agency and find out what she could about her grandmother’s caregiver.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Helen lingered in bed that morning. It was warm and cozy under the blankets, and she didn’t feel much incentive to get up and get dressed for some reason.

  “Helen?” Mrs. Miracle called from the living room. “It’s almost ten.”

  Helen glanced at the clock, surprised to see how quickly the morning had evaporated. She realized she had been drifting in and out of sleep.

  “How did you sleep, dear?” her companion asked upon entering Helen’s room. Mrs. Miracle sat on the edge of Helen’s bed with a concerned look on her face.

  “Lazy,” Helen admitted, stretching her arms above her head and yawning.

  “Then rest. I’ve led you on a merry chase the last few days. We might have overdone our walk to the senior center yesterday.”

  “The fresh air did me good,” Helen replied, “and I enjoyed reconnecting with old friends.” It’d been wonderful to see so many of her friends. Helen hadn’t realized how isolated she’d become. She’d been afraid to venture out on her own even though the senior center was within easy walking distance.

  In the short time she’d been with Helen, Mrs. Miracle had expanded her world. The senior center was full of activities and events. Before Mrs. Miracle had arrived, Helen had hibernated in the house alone, growing wary and depressed without realizing what was happening or why. No wonder her brain cells were dying off. They hadn’t been fed anything more than daytime television. Just yesterday, while playing bingo, she’d run into her dear friend, Mary Lou, who’d once lived in the neighborhood. It’d been delightful to reconnect.

  “Oh goodness,” Helen exclaimed when she suddenly realized what day it was. “Is this Laurel’s big day at the school? I need to get up and get ready.” Helen knew how important this holiday program Laurel was overseeing was to her granddaughter.

  “That’s not until tomorrow, love.”

  “Oh good. No way am I missing it. Laurel would never forgive me, and I wouldn’t forgive myself!” Helen tossed aside the covers and climbed out of the bed with some help from Mrs. Miracle. Laurel had talked of little else but this massive production involving the entire elementary school. Each class contributed in some way, with either a skit or a singing performance. The school band, as young as the children were, would be playing as well. Her granddaughter had worked hard, spending countless hours of her own time to ensure that the performance would be entertaining not only for the students but for the myriad family and friends who would be attending.

  Helen finished dressing. She felt energized and excited for Laurel, and for Christmas. She’d done more this year to prepare for Christmas than she had in recent memory—baking cookies, preparing the Christmas cards, decorating the tree, socializing with old friends and new—and it was all due to her angel friend. The Christmas tree, however, stood out above all else.

  Funny thing, that tree. Helen had wanted to work right alongside Mrs. Miracle with the decorating. She’d tired quickly, however, and decided to rest in her chair. She’d only briefly closed her eyes—or so she thought. When she looked up again, the entire tree was finished and marvelously decorated.

  In mere minutes. It would be impossible for that to have happened in such a short time, yet Helen had witnessed it herself. She decided that it had to be a trick—some sort of angel trick. She would have doubted such a thing were possible if it hadn’t happened right in front of her.

  Once in the kitchen, Helen took a seat at the kitchen table. Ever helpful, Mrs. Miracle placed a cup of tea in front of Helen, along with a single slice of toast, smothered with her favorite raspberry jam.

  “You’d better eat something if we’re going to be gallivanting off to new adventures.”

  “That is a perfect description of what we’ve been doing ever since you arrived, isn’t it? Gallivanting,” Helen said, smiling over the top of her teacup. The warm liquid soothed her throat. Oh, how she enjoyed her morning tea. Orange pekoe. She must mention it to Mary Lou, who she knew loved tea as much as she did.

  Mrs. Miracle sat across from Helen. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Wonderful. I’ve made plans with Mary Lou to stop by after the holidays, and we’ve made a date to play Scrabble. She’s a knitter, and from what she says, she has quite the stash of yarn.” But then, in her opinion, one could never have too much yarn.

  Mrs. Miracle wore a silly grin, holding back some amusement, then covered her mouth and giggled before shaking her head at Helen.

  Helen stared at her quizzically and raised one delicate brow.

  Setting the teacup aside, her companion saw the look. “You need to forgive me. I was thinking about something rather entertaining. Laurel will be calling the agency today to check on my references and employment history.”

  “She’s doing what?” It was far from humorous to Helen. She was upset that her friend’s credentials would be in question. “Whatever for?”

  “Zach and Laurel have concerns about me.”

  Helen noticed that Mrs. Miracle showed no signs of distress. “Concerns about what?” She wished Laurel had asked for her opinion. Helen had no complaints at all. In fact, she was eternally grateful for Mrs. Miracle, and now considered her a close friend. It distressed her that those two had gone behind her back about this.

  As though reading her thoughts, Mrs. Miracle held up her hand. “No worries, love. I’m afraid I might have brought this on myself.”

  “You? What could you have possibly done to warrant this?”

  Leaning back in her chair, the other woman sobered. “I mentioned something to Zach that I should have kept to myself. That young man is a quick study. Don’t worry, Helen, there’s no need for concern. It’s being handled. All is well.”

  That left Helen with even more questions. “Did you slip and tell him about the baby?”

  “No, not directly. It was something I implied. Some mention of the future, but Zach picked up on it right away. I’m afraid there are times when my tongue gets ahead of my brain.”

  “But…”

  “Yes, yes, I know. I’m an angel, but when I hang with humans for long, I seem to pick up a few of your less favorable human traits. Saying more than I should is one of them.”

  “Really? What did you let slip?”

  “Well, for one,” she said thoughtfully, tapping her index finger against her lower lip, “I should never have told you about Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy. At times, and this is embarrassing to admit, I forget I’m an angel. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I fear it’s true. And at other times, I overstep my boundaries. That’s what happened with Zach.”

  “Overstep? How so?”

  “I knew you were going to ask me that,” Mrs. Miracle said, looking chagrined. She smoothed out the napkin on her lap, avoiding eye contact. “It’s all due to what happened earlier in the week. I’m afraid I laid it on rather thick.”

  Clearly more had been going on than Helen knew.

  “I arranged for Zach to buy baby clothes, with Mercy’s help. Then I heard from Mercy that he’d prayed for a sign from God that he was doing the right thing, so the two of us conspired to answer his prayer. That’s how he ended up with a box of cigars individually wrapped with pink IT’S A GIRL labels at the gift exchange. It was a bit over the top, now that I look back on it.” She paused and giggled. “I just couldn’t help myself, and Mercy was all in. I thought it was the perfect answer to his doubts.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I think the box of cigars was a nice touch,” Helen said.

  “Perhaps, but later when he came home, I implied to him what he’d received that afternoon in the exchange was something he’d be able to put to good use in the future. The way Zach saw it, I shouldn’t have had any way of knowing what that gift was. See now? I was getting ahead of myself, yet again. That aroused his suspicions, which is why he asked Laurel to contact the agency.”

  While her friend didn’t appear overly distressed, Helen worried about the possible consequences of such a call. After all, Helen was no longer convinced that Mrs. Miracle had arrived by conventional hiring practices.

  “Will Laurel discover something you’d rather she not?” Helen asked, rubbing her hands together in nervous agitation.

  “Well…possibly. The agency that sent me isn’t exactly the one your granddaughter first contacted.”

  “I didn’t think it would be. Is there any way to divert the call to the…the ‘proper’ channels?”

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, especially if you’re an angel. My friend Shirley—Shirley of the ‘Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy’ stories I’ve mentioned—took care of the matter. She’s stepping in as a receptionist and will answer Laurel’s questions. I am confident Laurel will be reassured, although I’m upset with myself.”