Angels in the Snow by Rexanne Becnel Read Free Book Online Page B

doors closed against the bitter cold. It was a lot worse out there than he’d realized. And the wind! It was ferocious.
    â€œThank you,” the man mumbled past his frost-encrusted mustache. “Thank you.” He shuffled stiffly forward, out of the crowded entry alcove into the foyer. He still held the child tight, but one of his hands moved in a jerky fashion up the little one’s back. The woman and the two older children seemed to be holding one another up; they were too frozen to do more than hobble forward.
    For a moment there was complete silence. The newcomers huddled together, still coated with snow and edged with a hoary frost on their eyebrows and around their mufflers.
    â€œWe were in an accident . . . Our van . . .” The man trailed off, as if even talking took too much energy.
    Charles was torn between natural feelings of caution, and irritation that a bunch of strangers had suddenly been forced upon them. What were they supposed to do with them?
    Judith rose to the occasion. She closed the inner door. “Alex, get blankets and sweaters—any dry clothes, socks. Anything. Jenn, make hot chocolate. Lots of it. Go!” she ordered when they hesitated.
    â€œYou want us to bring our clothes down here for them to wear? Our clothes?” Jennifer asked. On her face was an expression of incredulity.
    Charles couldn’t help but silently agree with her.
    â€œYes, Jennifer.” Judith gave her a stern look. “You have enough for three people up there.”
    â€œDon’t worry, Jenn. I’ll be real careful in what I select.” Alex smiled sarcastically.
    â€œDon’t you dare touch any of my clothes,” Jennifer snapped. She shot her mother a pained look. “ I’ll do it.”
    â€œPlease. You don’t have to put yourselves out for us,” the man interjected through teeth chattering from the cold. “I know we’re disturbing you. We . . . we just need to get warm and . . . and call someone.”
    â€œYou need to get out of those wet clothes,” Judith contradicted. “We can dry your own clothes quick enough and give them back to you. Now get going,” she ordered her two children. There was nothing to do but take these people in, Charles knew. They couldn’t leave them outside in this weather with no other houses around for miles. But he didn’t have to like it.
    Under Judith’s direction the family laid down their knapsacks and other clutched bundles. The man was fortyish, as was his wife. The three children—a boy around thirteen or fourteen, a girl a little younger than Jennifer, and another little girl, five or so—all appeared to be in a state of shock. They just stood there as Judith rushed around trying to make them more comfortable.
    â€œCharles, come help me,” she ordered.
    He did as she instructed, though he didn’t really want to. They helped remove wet shoes and socks from the children’s frozen feet. They replaced their icy pants with warm thermal underwear and layered on sweatshirts, sweaters, and blankets. The three children didn’t say a word. They only did as directed: stuck out an arm or leg as necessary.
    Jennifer and Alex stood to the side watching everything. For once they were both at a loss for words. But Jennifer frowned when the middle girl was folded into her pink-striped robe.
    The man and the woman helped each other as best they could, but their movements were awkward and interrupted by violent shivers.
    â€œWe hit an ice patch,” the man said when he had caught his breath enough to speak. “About a mile up the road. I veered to avoid a rabbit. The van spun . . . We would have gone over the edge, but a big old oak caught us—”
    â€œYou’re okay now,” Judith murmured as she pressed a mug of hot chocolate into his hands. “Can you hold this?”
    â€œYeah. Yeah, I think so.