The Trouble With Angels Page 0,14

dear Gabriel a moment's worry."

Shirley was just beginning to think she might have misjudged her friend's intentions when Goodness giggled. "Yes, you would," she said. "We all would, and good old Gabe knows it, too."

"Do you mind if we discuss Karen?" Shirley suggested. These two younger prayer ambassadors flustered her. They were far more daring than she was. Frankly, Shirley believed Gabriel had teamed her up with Goodness and Mercy just so she could keep an eye on these two upstarts.

"Oh, yes. Karen."

"Of course. Karen."

Now that she had their attention, Shirley felt it was time to mention what she'd discovered, although she wasn't exactly sure what to do with the information. "Of course, there's always Thom Nichols."

"Thom Nichols?" Mercy pressed.

"He owns a riding stable in the valley, and it's - "

"But that's perfect." Goodness vaulted upright in her enthusiasm.

"For Karen, perhaps, but it doesn't do anything about Maureen's troubles. I did tell Gabriel that I was certain there was a horse in this somewhere," Shirley said, feeling downright proud of herself, "but it isn't as if I can swoop down and tell Maureen about the stables."

A slow, gradual smile spread over Goodness's face. "Why can't you?"

"You've got that gleam in your eye again." Shirley was beginning to get worried. She'd seen that look before, and it usually spelled trouble. "How could you even think such things, Goodness? We've just arrived. We don't dare jeopardize everything so soon."

"Don't get all bent out of shape," Goodness said with a total lack of concern. "I'm not going to do anything I shouldn't. Now, tell me what you know about Nichols's Riding Stables."

Shirley removed the brochure from inside her wide sleeve and spread it open for the others to read. "It says they have afternoon riding lessons with gentle, well-behaved horses and lots of riding trails. It's ideal for someone like Karen."

"Allow me," Goodness said, whooshing the brightly colored brochure out of Shirley's hand. Before the other prayer ambassador could protest further, Goodness disappeared over the outer edge of the building. Given no option, Shirley followed just in time to find her fellow angel dodging her way between metal grocery carts, headed straight toward Maureen Woods's car.

Shirley watched in dismay as Goodness lured a cart away from a long line of them near the front of the store. She set it rolling across the large parking lot until it stopped directly behind Maureen's car.

A little boy who was walking into the store with his mother watched the cart take off on its own and then come to an abrupt halt. He must have been about five, Shirley gauged.

The boy tugged on the strap of his mother's purse, which was draped over her arm.

"Mom. Mom!"

"Stevie, how many times have I asked you not to pull on my purse?...Answer me, son. How many times?"

"But, Mom - "

"How would you like it if I yanked on you?"

"But, Mom, I just saw a cart move and stop all on its own," he told her.

"Then don't pull on my arm, and I won't pull on yours," she said, completely ignoring what the youngster had told her. With that, she reached for his hand and led him inside the store.

Shirley swore she was about to melt into the asphalt. "What are you trying to do?" she asked Goodness between gritted teeth. "See how fast you can get the three of us sent back in disgrace? We promised no monkey business, remember?"

"What's so unnatural about gravity pulling a cart a certain distance?" Goodness inquired with a look as innocent as freshly fallen snow. "All we - "

"We?"

"I." At least she had the good grace to correct herself, Shirley noted.

"All I did," Goodness continued as if burdened with the incompetence of the other two, "was make the brochure accessible to a certain person we know and love."

"Look at that!" Maureen said as she trudged toward her parked car, loaded down with two heavy bags of groceries. "Don't you just hate it when thoughtless people leave their carts out? I'll need to put it away before I can leave."

"Here," her mother said, "let me move it out of your way."

"You have your own load - I'll get it," Maureen insisted. She set the bags inside the cart and opened the car trunk. After placing her mother's bags inside the car, she retrieved her own. "I'll take the cart back," she said, unlocking the passenger door for her mother.

She raced back toward the store and left the cart in the appropriate slot. A colorful