CHAPTER 21

Monica rolled over and felt the cool breeze blow the hair back from her face. She blinked a few times, suddenly wondering what had woken her. A second later and she knew. She heard a car, and it was getting closer. Her heart grew heavy once again. It was probably someone from the sheriff’s office… probably someone to take the little bones away. She wearily got out of bed and looked out her window.

The little angel felt every part of her body stiffen and her hands began to shake. It wasn’t someone from the sheriff’s office. It was Greg. For a moment she let the fear overtake her, but then it was as if some hidden spring of strength and purpose was suddenly unleashed. She flew out of her room and down the stairs, running into the living room so fast that Faith and Tess both looked up from their book.

"What is it baby?" Tess asked when she saw the look on Monica’s face. She knew it wasn’t anything good.

"Tess, please take Faith in to the kitchen and stay there," Monica answered as she heard a car door open and close.

"Monica, what is going on?" Tess stood up, her hand still firmly gripping Faith’s. She followed the direction of Monica’s gaze and looked over her shoulder. Gregory Tate was making his way up the dirt path to the front door. "Monica, I don’t know what you’re planning, but whatever it is…"

"Please, Tess, take Faith into the kitchen and wait there."

Monica’s voice was surprisingly stern, and Tess’s eyes widened. She couldn’t ever remember being ordered to do anything by the little angel. One look at Monica’s face and she quickly shelved all the arguments she was about to make.

"Come on, Faith… I bet we still have some ice cream left," she said, as she led the worried looking little girl away.

Monica could only spare them a quick glance to make sure they were in the kitchen before she ran to the front door and flung it open. She wasn’t going to let him in the house. She was going to go to him. She slowed her pace as she reached the middle of the porch, and stared down at Greg who was still making his way to the stairs.

"What are you doing here?" her tone was sharp and hid none of her feelings.

"Well, you’d be surprised what a useful thing a police scanner is," Greg said, cloaking himself in false innocence. "I hear you have half the county out looking for me. Seems you dug up something out in the woods. I’m just praying that it isn’t my poor daughter," he was playing up the grieving father role for all it was worth, despite the fact that the little angel had seen another side of him just the day before.

"You know exactly what I found, Gregory Tate," Monica’s voice was suddenly strong, much stronger than she felt. "I know what happened… I know everything."

Greg’s face changed and his eyes hardened as he finally dropped his act. "Lady, you got here three weeks ago. You don’t know anything. You don’t know me, you don’t know this town," he sneered.

She walked forward until she was standing at the edge of the stairs. "That’s where you’re wrong. You see, I’m not a lady, Greg, I’m an angel, and I know the secrets you never told a living soul. I know how you beat your wife to death. I know how you terrorized your own daughter. You should have been her loving father here on earth but instead you taught her to fear you, to fear any man… even to fear God Himself, but your power over her is gone." Her voice was filled with emotion and her eyes shone with both tears and righteousness.

"What? What are you babbling about?" He moved closer, and was about to reach up and pull her down the stairs when suddenly the light of God shone out from the Irish angel and he stumbled backwards.

Where most people who saw that light were comforted and put at peace, he felt nothing but fear, the greatest fear he had ever experienced. He put his hand up to his face to shield his eyes from the sight, but he couldn’t seem to completely look away.

"Are you afraid now, Greg? Do you know now how Faith felt each and every time you hurt her when all she wanted was for you to love and protect her?" Monica asked, feeling love and strength flow through her body even as she knew that the man in front of her saw only the awesome and overwhelming power of God.

He stared at her, stricken, his eyes still unable to comprehend what they were being shone. "Wh—what are you going to do to me? Don’t hurt me! Don’t!"

Monica felt her heart clench within her breast. "I imagine that Faith begged you for the same thing. Did you listen to her?"

"I—I didn’t know what I was doing… I didn’t know…"

"Yes you did. You knew exactly what you were doing. You were wielding power over a defenseless woman and child who loved you. You showed them no mercy, but you ask for mercy from God?"

"Oh.. God, yes, please… I’m sorry!"

Monica shook her head and her eyes narrowed. "You aren’t sorry. You are only sorry that now you fear you may be subjected to the same fate as your wife and daughter. But God doesn’t work that way. He is merciful even to those who aren’t. But you will get no forgiveness from Him now, and you never will, until you can be sorry for someone other than yourself!"

Greg stood up straighter, gaining confidence that his life was not about to be taken. "Why do I need his forgiveness?" he countered, suddenly disgusted with himself for showing such weakness.

The Irish angel felt anger enter her heart, and for a split second she realized exactly what Andrew had been dealing with for the past year. "Someday, Gregory Tate, you will wish you hadn’t asked that question. Someday you will be begging for forgiveness, and I just wonder whether it will be too late."

"Too late for what, Angel?" he shot back, and her eyes flashed when she heard that gentle endearment come from his lips.

"Too late to save yourself," she answered, and as the words left her mouth she felt God’s power subsiding, and an instant later she heard shouting from the woods.

"Monica!" Andrew. Of course it was Andrew. He must have sensed what was going on.

The angel of death suddenly appeared at the edge of the woods, with Sheriff Benson close at his heel. As soon as Andrew saw that Monica wasn’t alone he seemed to find an extra burst of speed, and Jake was breathing heavily by the time he caught up. Greg made no move to leave, just looked at everyone coldly, as if trying to decide what card to play next.

Jake made that decision for him when he slipped the handcuffs off his belt and took two long strides to his side. "You have the right to remain silent," he said as he roughly turned him around and snapped the cold steel around his wrists.

Monica wasn’t even able to comprehend what was being said. The adrenaline subsided and all she could do was sag against Andrew as he wrapped his arm around her waist. She looked up at him and was surprised at what she saw there. His eyes were filled with such an incredible pride and love that it momentarily snatched her breath.

"You heard me?" she whispered.

"I told you once that you’re stronger than you think you are," he said as he pulled her closer, "and you just proved it."

But in response she shook her head and lowered her eyes, only now seeing and hearing what it was Jake was saying.

"I’ll be in touch and the coroner’s office will be out to take care of the little girl’s…" His voice trailed off momentarily as he looked away, "Well, you know."

"Thank you, Sheriff," Andrew replied, watching as Monica pulled away and wordlessly went up the steps to the cottage.

*****

The evening in the cottage was a quiet one at least where the little angel was concerned. Andrew and Tess kept Faith amused, though the child was more than aware of Monica’s more silent disposition. She continually brought the angel each picture she had drawn and though Monica always made a fuss about how wonderfully colored it was, Faith still knew things just weren’t right.

Tess shook her head when her young charge headed upstairs after Faith to put her to bed and stay with her until she fell asleep, and the older angel found herself wondering if Monica would even venture back down tonight. "Today has been a hard day for one little angel," she remarked, a trace of sadness in her voice.

"Yes, it has," Andrew agreed as he let out a sigh. He had watched her protectively when the Coroner’s vehicle had arrived and the men had ventured into the woods under Jake’s supervision. She had watched it all, but had never uttered a sound.

"I would have thought she would have felt at least a little better after being able to reveal herself to Gregory Tate, but if anything, it seems to have made things worse. Yet she is refusing to talk about any of it."

"She will, Tess," He sounded completely convinced and Tess looked at him skeptically, "She always does, no matter which way things go. She will either reconcile it all in her heart and then explain it to us, or she will be unable to reconcile it and then she knows she has to start talking. One thing she has never been, Tess, is a closed book."

She chuckled softly, "I suppose you are right about that. Monica is never quiet for long and though at times I seem annoyed by that fact, I know it is really a blessing. It was far too quiet around here tonight, but I decided not to say anything about it, though I have never been very good at just waiting."

He elected not to remark on that being the statement of the year, if not the decade, "Right now, that is all we can do." He replied instead, though in his heart, he hoped the wait this time would not be terribly long.

*****

Monica tossed and turned in her bed, feeling grateful that Faith always slept so fitfully. Glancing at the clock once more, she sighed before throwing back the covers and slipping soundlessly out of bed. Her bare feet made scarcely a sound on the hardwood floor as she left the room and walked down the hall to the room next to her own.

Giving a soft knock, she waited a moment before easing the door open and her dark eyes met Andrew’s through the soft light that the moon streaming in through the window provided. She wasn’t surprised to find him awake. She had expected it.

Her expression nearly undid him as he moved over slightly and a moment later she was in his arms, head nestled up against his chest. There were no tears, only a sadness he could feel with his entire being.

"Talk to me, angel," He urged softly after giving her several minutes and not hearing a sound from her.

"I was angry, Andrew. I’m still angry," She whispered, never once moving from the safety of his embrace, "When I went out to talk to Faith’s father, I didn’t go to try and convince him of God’s love for him. That was never an option. I felt glad that he was afraid of me. I wanted him to be afraid, just like Faith had been afraid and you told me once that making people afraid of me was not the answer-."

"Whoa, Monica," He interrupted firmly with a shake of his head, "At that time you were mentioning the whole human race being afraid of you and there is a difference. Greg needed to understand that Someone else has more power than he does and the Father gave you the words to be able to do that. God was with you, sweetie, you were not out there alone just speaking your own emotions, even if it felt that way. I’d venture to say that God isn’t all that happy with him at the moment either."

He felt a little of the tension leave her small body as she listened to his words, but as she spoke up once more, he knew that there was more on her heart, "I’ve never spoken the truth like that before, not with that kind of anger. The words…they felt like my own..."

"Even if they were, angel, when you lit up," He grinned softly as he coined Paul’s phrase, "that was God standing behind you. Even He knows that sometimes ‘God loves you’ isn’t what some people need to hear. Greg didn’t care that his wife and child loved him, so what did it matter if he knew that God did as he isn’t ready to accept that and maybe never will be."

"He wasn’t even sorry," She uttered tearfully and she felt him hold her more tightly.

"I know, but once he is convicted, he’ll have plenty of time to become sorry and maybe then God will be able to do some work in his heart." He felt her nod her head and he knew she was beginning to accept things as they were, regardless of how hard it was to do so.

"He can never hurt her again," Monica whispered after a moment and though there was sadness behind the words, he could also hear the very beginnings of joy at what she knew Faith would eventually experience, "Does Adam still want to be the one to take her Home?"

"I think he would like to, but he hasn’t been told yet if that is the plan. She has to accept it first."

"I hope he can. I need to apologize to him."

"He understood, angel," He reassured her and she closed her eyes, hearing his term of endearment for her being used as it should be, and not in the venomous way Greg had spat it at her.

Feeling herself beginning to drift off to sleep at long last, she offered one more thing, "Thank you, for always being here when I need you."

Andrew smiled as he kissed the top of her head, "It’s always a pleasure, Angel Girl. Always."