The Angels' Mirror Pack 2: Books Four through Seven Read online

  The Angels’ Mirror

  Pack 2: Books Four through Seven

  by Harmony L. Courtney

  The Angels’ Mirror Pack 2: Books Four through Seven

  1st Edition Kindle - Published 2015

  Copyright © Harmony L. Courtney

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Scripture taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE®, Copyright © 1960,1962,1963,1968,1971,1972,1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

  Scripture quotations taken from the Amplified® Bible, Copyright © 1954, 1958, 1962, 1964, 1965, 1987 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

  Scriptures quoted from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  Scripture taken from The Message. Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

  Scripture quotations taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version (Public Domain).

  Scripture quotations taken from the Holy Bible, American Standard Version (Public Domain).

  Cover Photo: © peter zelei – iStockphoto.com

  Interactive:

  This series contains interactive components, which can be found on my YouTube and Pinterest pages, respectively. So, for your listening enjoyment, feel free to come check out The Angels’ Mirror: Selected Tunes.

  Please also come join me on Facebook. Thank you!

  A Thread of Silence

  Book Four in The Angels’ Mirror Series

  by

  Harmony L. Courtney

  A Thread of Silence: Book Four in The Angels’ Mirror Series

  2nd Edition Kindle- Published 2014

  Copyright © Harmony L. Courtney

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Scriptures quoted from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  Scripture quotations taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version (Public Domain).

  Scripture quotations taken from the Holy Bible, American Standard Version (Public Domain).

  Acknowledgements:

  I’d like to thank those who have been my patient and encouraging early readers, and my family, without whose support this would not have been accomplished as easily.

  Many thanks to Kevin E Gates for your help with some of my research, and inspiring some of the ideas within – including but not limited to the creation of Kristof Sage. Your input has changed the course of this series for the better, and I sincerely appreciate it.

  Special thanks to Christina Tarabochia for the reminder regarding Sabbath rest, which reiterated many other conversations and ended up influencing this text, as well.

  Last, but not least, thank you, Cheryl Good and Gerald Darnall, for your help with editing. It is highly appreciated.

  Thank you all!

  Aye, this one is for you,

  Kevin E. Gates…

  My kind, appreciable thanks to you. This book wouldn’t have been the same without your encouragement, insights, and resourcefulness.

  Disclosure:

  As with any novel that brings in characters who were real people once upon a time, it is not this author’s intent to malign any person, historical or current. I have sought to create as true-to-life characterization as possible for all who you find on these pages, but at some point, real people must, of course, become fictionalized to tell the story.

  I have done as much research to assess the characters who once lived as those who are purely fictional and done my best to create scenes that are realistic regarding earlier times and settings as I possibly can. Any omissions or commissions that are incorrect are solely due to an error in my own research, and are not to reflect on the people or settings portrayed in the text.

  Several of the characters in the historical timelines – or those discussed by the historians within these pages - were real people. Other than a handful of specific buildings, places portrayed within the text are real.

  Any errors to foreign language portions within this text are the interpretational error of this author.

  With that, I leave you to enjoy A Thread of Silence. Thank you for your support of this book. Stay tuned for the rest of The Angels’ Mirror series to learn the rest of their story.

  Prologue de Trois

  Vancouver, Washington… October 20, 2019

  Edward drew close to the back window, setting himself down in one of the pair of new red and gold tartan armchairs they’d added, listening to the sound of the falling rain after the last of the cars from church pulled away for the afternoon.

  The day – and the week – had been long already.

  From the window, he could see and hear the chickens behind the house beginning to create a ruckus as he watched Paloma traipsing toward him, empty scrap jar in hand. Nearby, he could see the fresh mound of dirt where he and Paloma had been digging, and his heart skipped a beat in grief.

  Why Paloma insisted on being the one to go feed the chickens their second meal – even when it was raining or snowing – bewildered him. This was their third trio of hens, and it had been the same routine throughout each.

  At least, ever since his heart surgery.

  Paloma’s hair, plastered to her head in red-blonde ringlets, framed her face as she noticed him watching and she smiled.

  His heart skipped another beat.

  She was such a beautiful woman, and she didn’t even realize it half the time.

  The long turquoise dress she wore, with its belled skirt and mutton-puffed sleeves may not be the most fashionable thing for a runway, but for church, it set a wonderful tone. She had gotten a dozen compliments on it, possibly more, even though it was the first time she’d worn it.

  And now, it was getting soaked; Edward prayed it wasn’t dragging in the mud, to its own demise after all the hard work Paloma and Mariana had put into it.

  He sighed.

  How is it that some of the most beautiful women have no idea the effect they have on other people, he thought distractedly. How is it that so many people can’t see the beauty within another human being; their internal beauty, their values, their passions and skillsets, talents and spiritual giftings? It’s as if people nowadays look not to the heart, but to the body, and that, alone… and people like Paloma who are beautiful inside and out are frowned upon simply for having heart to go along with looks.

  It had been a long, difficult few weeks, and he was thankful for some quiet time, just the two of them; finally. It was time they rarely got anymore, but desperately needed.

  With a glance back at the fresh mound of dirt, he knew it was time; time for them to discuss and more fully process Petunia Grace’s death the week before. It was time, also, to decide if and when they were going to get an
other family pet, and today would be as good as any to start that discussion, even if the wound was still raw; the dirt fresh and turning to mud.

  Duncan, Chosen, and Cherish had gone to stay the afternoon at the Iglesias’ place, and wouldn’t be back until close to nine. Edward sincerely hoped that time with the Iglesias’ – and their multiple cats – would help create a pathway for peace about Petunia. Things had been so difficult the final weeks of her life, and now that she was gone, he wasn’t sure who had been most adversely affected by the sadness of it all.

  When’s the last time Paloma and I really had eight hours to ourselves, he thought, smiling as he opened the sliding glass for his wife and handing her a towel to dry off her hair as he grabbed the scrap jar from her and carried it toward the kitchen. So, even with rough topics ahead, at least we might get a little down time out of it, together, as well. Right?

  Justice and Midge had offered to bring their new dog, Mr. Courageous the St. Bernard, over sometime as a means of seeing how the kids did with a dog in the house, but he was huge. Huge and gentle and sweet… and slobbery.

  Edward shuddered at the thought of goo being flung across their furnishings and children, and chuckled to himself.

  “What’s so funny,” Paloma asked him, closer than he realized.

  She must have pulled her shoes off at the door and padded up on stocking feet, he mused. “I was trying to picture an eight month old St. Bernard running loose in our house. The slobbery goo would be everywhere in five minutes, probably less.”

  “Ew,” she said, shaking her head as she put the kettle on. “Yeah, I don’t think I want Mr. Courageous over, either, cute as he is. I’m just glad he stays in the back yard when we visit, now that he’s getting bigger. But…?”

  “I was thinking about Justice and Midge’s offer to bring him by. I don’t think we’re ready for a dog in this family, as much as the boys want one,” he said, washing his hands and opening the fridge. “And I don’t know that we’re quite ready for another cat yet, either. We’ll just have to wait and see. What do you think?”

  “Well, I… I think that we should. Not in the next couple of weeks, but… another cat would be nice. Something smaller, maybe… shorter than Petunia was; a bit less mischief, and quieter. Even if that means getting something that costs more or has to be shipped in. When I got Petunia, it was a fairly easy decision: cat or no cat, since it was just me. Long hair, or not? Talkative, or not? Purebred, half-bred, or mixed as a mutt,” she said, laughing a little. “But now that the children’s hearts – and yours – are involved… it makes it that much harder, and I just…” she stopped, tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes.

  Her lips quivered as she spoke, and Edward shut the fridge and held her a few moments. She trembled in his arms, and he pulled her closer to him still, kissing her wet thick curls and swaying back and forth in a gentle rocking motion.

  Food could wait…. So could pet decisions.

  Gently taking her by the hand, he led Paloma into the living room and sat her down on the couch. It was a deep green velvet one, and he thought for a moment back to when he’d first seen it, bedecked in pillows, in Paloma’s old plex.

  The years had begun to wear it down, what with children and everyday life, creating a few worn spots that only pillows or a comforter could cover, but it still did the job. And he was thankful that, in spite of the changes that had come to their home space, there were still a few reminders of how things had once been.

  The teakettle he’d forgotten about began to whistle as soon as they sat down, and he chuckled again.

  “I’ll get it,” he told her when he saw her beginning to get up. He flattened a hand against her shoulder and gently sat her back down as he stood. “What would you like to drink? Just… stay here. You do too much around here, as is. It’s the least I can do.”

  He gave her a quick kiss on the head and rushed to turn off the stove.

  “Peppermint’s fine,” she told him, even as her cell phone, on the table across from her, rang.

  Really, he thought, sensing irritation rising within him. The phone rings as soon as we’re starting to settle in and relax? Does the fettering chain of stress and time consumption ever end; are we on some rollercoaster without a turnoff switch?

  Edward groaned as he heard her answer it, pulled out the tea basket, and got their water poured as he half-listened to her conversation. Swift to prepare their tea, he brought it back into the living room just as he heard her saying, “We’ll be right there. I’m not sure what’s gotten into him, but I could take a guess…”

  Of all the days for there to be an emergency, just when they finally found some private time together … why did they have to overlap? Again.

  Edward took a deep breath as he set their tea down and sat next to her. She was just hanging up the phone.

  “So, what happened, and who did it this time?”

  With a sigh and a shrug, Paloma smiled at him. Tears were forming in her eyes again.

  “Duncan and Didier got into a fight,” she said. “That was Fifine Noel. They’re not hurt, but… it sounds like it was pretty bad. She thinks we should all get together and discuss it, considering it had to do with Rose.”

  Ah… Rose.

  Rose, who had seemed just fine until, all of a sudden, she wasn’t; Rose, who was now the Prodigal they prayed and waited for to return, as anxious for her to be alright as they were their own children.

  And, really, she was like a child to them; a child in their hearts. She’d been through so much… and yet, she’d been such a godsend to them in times of need, watching the kids when they’d been younger when nobody else was available.

  Edward shook his head as he reached for his tea; blew on it and took a tentative sip.

  “And so now, we’re doing what,” he asked Paloma, looking over at her; taking in the disarray of her damp clothes and headful of still-dripping curls.

  “We’re going to finish our tea on the way over there. I’m too cold not to drink it up, and it’s a ways. I’m going to go change really quick, much as I’d like a shower… otherwise I’m going to just freeze…. If you could transfer our tea into travel cups while I go do that, I’d really appreciate it. And I’ll grab you a sweater while I’m in there.”

  With a quick nod, Edward once again lifted the steaming cups and carried them in the other direction, trying not to let his irritation get the better of him. In the background, he could hear his wife move in the direction of their room. The rain was really pouring now, and he wished it would stop… at least long enough to get to the car without getting soaked.

  “Well, I’ll grab something for a to-go snack, while I’m at it,” he said, raising his voice loud enough for her to hear him over the pummel of the rain. “I don’t know about you, but with everything going on at Church today, I didn’t get much to eat.”

  “Please… come in,” Mama Fifine said as she opened the door for Edward and Paloma.

  Most of the kids were settled down, watching an old Monk rerun in the living room, and Duncan and Didier had finally been separated – each to a bedroom. The cats had scattered during their fight, and were now beginning to calm down.

  “Thank you,” Paloma said as they entered. Edward nodded, as well, smiling as he lifted the cup in his hand, taking a quick sip from it.

  “Hi, Mama,” she heard Cherish and Chosen call from behind her. “Hi, Papa!”

  Mama Fifine watched as her guests glanced around a moment, then waved to the children.

  “Why not come with me to the kitchen… then I go get the boys, yes,” she suggested. “And lunch is almost ready. You are very welcome to stay and join us… there is enough, I am sure,” she continued. “I always make extra We’re having locro and fugazzeta for lunch… that is, a navy bean, potato, and corn soup followed by something like… um, stuffed pizza,” she told them as they sat down.

  The table was already set, for which she was thankful. If they stayed, it would only mean two more place
s; the kids would eat in the other room, since there were so many, and so the adults would have time and space to talk.

  ”And if you’re here for dinner, too, we still have time for there to be enough around. Juanito just took the tira de asado – the ribs – outside to the back porch to grill them, and the chimichurri for it is almost... how you say… finished? I usually make enough for three meals at once to save time, with all these kids,” she said, smiling again. “Gracias Dios we have covering over porch during rain, si?”

  “Thank you,” Edward said as he set his travel cup down on the table next to him. “We appreciate your kind offer.”

  “Yes. Not a problem,” she replied, smiling at the couple.

  They were so charming, in their near-matching grey sweaters and dripping hair. She was used to seeing them at church; not soaked to the bone, sitting in her home.

  As she turned to go get the boys, she double-checked the chimichurri, and then paused to turn the heater up so it would kick on.

  She couldn’t go having her guests catch a cold on her account, no, Lord. That certainly wouldn’t do at all.

  “Didier, come here please. Duncan, your parents are here,” she called as she walked through the living room and past the hallway. A pair of doors opened, and the boys glared at each other a moment before heading toward her. “Go into the kitchen,” she told them. “Y tu, Didier, estar en buenas condiciones. No mas tonterias, ¿me oye?”

  Her son paused and looked at her, his eyes wide. “Mama, no era como yo estaba tratando de hacer... Yo no estaba... bueno, si, Mama.” He sighed and put his head down, then kept walking. His dark head bobbed at a nearly imperceptible pace as he continued toward the kitchen.