Kristoff started toward the door unsure how to approach Martha. Her nightmares left her shaken and unsure. He knew she needed space along with time to work her way through the layers of illusions and visions that grappled for her psychic connection to the next world. The one that many call the layer between the here and now and the afterlife. Three months passed without a call or instance of someone knocking at her door begging for her assistance. Even the local newspaper and TV station left her alone. He’d do whatever he could to help her. Even if it meant posing as her husband like the last case they worked. Maybe this time, things wouldn’t go left unsaid or misunderstood.
Kristoff grabbed his boots, pulling them on as he hesitated near his backdoor. The sun’s first beams trickled across the peak of Martha’s roof. He could feel the pull of the light calling him forth as if he were part of it. He blinked knowing that his job as a guardian wasn’t over until the cosmos decided his job assignment was done. He didn’t mind when he got selected for jobs like this one. Country living with a job he liked as a cover. And decent folks to live amongst. Still, Martha’s allure pulled at him in ways he hadn’t expected. Guardian with an angelic past that got a bit tarnished in the last battle for heaven vs. hell. He was allowed physical pleasures when he took human form. This time maybe, just maybe he’d find the mate the powers-that-be hinted at.
Pulling his jacket on, he looked upward as he started out the open door. The sun as if on cue rose higher in the sky, caressing him with her warmth and flashing over him. He stumbled catching the banister lest he keep on stumbling down the stairs. The vision that enveloped him and passed held more information than he could discern without writing down what he saw and heard. It would have to wait. Martha needed him.
Martha kept petting Callie and Azul crooning as she did. Cool and brisk were the two words she repeated over and over. The day would grant her a window of reprieve. The solace she needed to keep her wits about her. Her job, the one the higher powers called a gift, could wait. Her love and joy had an appointment with her. The local school age children would be at the library at nine sharp demanding help find the books she talked about during story hour. Yes, children bless their hearts and souls nourished the small fragile piece of hope she cherished and hid deep within her heart.