Miracle in the Mist Read Free

fragrance of cinnamon mixed with fresh-cut pine accosted her. In one corner stood a large Christmas tree decked out in paper chains and candy canes. On the wall behind the tree, red construction-paper stockings hung, each bearing the name of its owner in gold glitter. Pots of poinsettias sat on each of the highly-polished tables scattered about the room.
    Gathered around one of the tables on the far side of the room were two women, a man, and a little girl. The child was sleeping peacefully in the older woman's arms.
    She stepped gingerly inside and closed the door. The sound of the heavy, wrought-iron latch falling into place made all three people turn to her.
    "I—" she began. "Can you help me?"
    "Oh my word!" For a moment, Assistant Librarian Irma Peese studied the terrified girl shivering uncontrollably in the middle of the library floor. Her face was as pale as the snow coating her entire body. The girl was covered with spatters of blood, and a large cut, probably the source of the blood, marred her temple. The look of stark fear on her face brought Irma to her feet.
    Irma glanced at Steve. "Get me some wet paper towels." Then she turned to Meghan. "Take Faith." Gently, she transferred her sleeping granddaughter to her daughter's arms, then rushed to the girl's side, took her arm, and led her to a chair.
    Moments later, her son-in-law rushed back to her side with a wet paper towel and handed it to her. "Here, Irma," he said. "Wipe away the blood so we can see how bad it is."
    Irma took the paper towel and began carefully wiping away the blood on the woman's forehead. "My, but you've got a nasty cut here, dear." She glanced at Steve. "Stitches?"
    He studied the cut, gently probed the edges, and then shook his head. "It looks worse than it is. It's really shallow. Just a good-sized bandage should do."
    Irma turned to her daughter. Faith was now awake and standing beside her mother, staring at the young woman with large, inquisitive eyes. "Meghan, go into the librarian's office and bring me the first-aid kit." When Meghan rushed off to do her bidding, Irma looked down at the young woman's pale face. "What on earth happened to you?"
    "I… I don't know," the girl said, her voice low and almost apologetic.
    "Well, no need to worry about that right now. Let's see to that cut and get you cleaned up first." Irma proceeded to gently wipe the blood from the girl's cheeks and chin with a clean paper towel. She looked at Steve and then nodded toward her granddaughter, who was still staring wide-eyed at the injured woman. Faith didn't need to see this. "Steve, why don't you take Faith home, and we'll meet you there in a bit."
    "Are you sure you won't need me?"
    Irma shook her head. "As long as she doesn't need any stitches, I'm sure Meghan and I can handle it, dear."
    "Irma," Steve said, lowering his voice. "Is she the one?"
    Irma nodded almost imperceptibly. "I think so. Now, you get Faith home. It's past her bedtime." She leaned down and placed a warm kiss on the child's rosy cheek and then brushed the tangle of ash-blond curls from her face. "See you in the morning, love."
    "Nite, Ahmee."
    "Tell Meghan I'll see her at home." He took Faith's hand and led her toward the door. "Come on, sweetie. We'll go to the cabin and make hot chocolate for when Mommy and Grandma come home."
    "Can the lady have some, too?"
    Irma looked at Steve. They exchanged silent glances. Irma nodded. Her heart had told Irma almost the instant she'd looked up and seen the woman standing there that this was the girl Emanuel had sent word about, and she'd be getting more than a cup of hot chocolate at the cabin. She'd find a beginning to a new life.
    "Of course, she can, sweetie, if she wants to," Steve said. He winked at Irma and then ushered his daughter out the door and into the snowy night.
    "Drive carefully," Irma called after them, and then went back to her chore. When she was satisfied that she'd gotten most of the blood off the young woman's forehead,