By Heather Graham
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Extra info for An Angel for Christmas
This guy was out there hurt, Dad,” she said. ” Stacy, drying her hands on a dish towel, came hurrying into the parlor as well. “Oh, no! The poor man. Get him onto the sofa, Shayne. Oh, he’s bleeding! I’ll get a clean washcloth and warm water. I’ll—” Stacy began. ” Mike protested. “Bleeding, in the snow, in the middle of nowhere? How the hell did he get here? ” “That’s what I said, Dad,” Morwenna replied, setting a hand firmly on his chest. “But your son, the physician, refused to allow anyone to bleed to death.
That’s right. And Santa Claus can find any house,” he assured Genevieve. Connor rolled his eyes. ” Shayne poked his head in the doorway. “Hey, Bobby, thanks. ” “Sure. ” “Watching our—guest. The guy we picked up—Gabe—is freezing. The snow soaked through his clothing. ” “I can find him something—” Bobby said. “No, that’s cool, I still have you by an inch or so in the shoulder and chest region, and the guy looks like he’s about my size. I just don’t want to leave him standing there. ” “Yeah, sure, Dad,” Connor said.
Bobby had tried once to explain that he didn’t need to make a fortune; he wanted to get along fine. He’d made the argument that when the economy went down, even computer scientists were struggling for a living, and that nurses might be in high demand, but hospitals couldn’t pay them. His father always just stared at him blankly. Bobby looked at the little ornament he held. He hadn’t realized that he’d picked it up, or what it was—one of his mom’s cherished antiques. It was a little angel with a trumpet.