One Chance To Love (Christian Romance)

Daniel’s mind went blank when the
woman stepped away from the window and collided with his chest. Sure, he’d had
people running into him almost every day on the streets of New York City, but
none of them were drop-dead gorgeous like this woman.

For a second, the natural
irritation of being interrupted had swept through him. Then he’d seen her face,
and his brain—his entire world—was suddenly suspended, as if time had stopped
for several moments.

She’d looked up at him, and he was
unable to speak. Sandy brown hair barely touched her shoulders and framed a
perfectly oval face that must have been lovingly sculpted by a team of angels.
Lips that seemed to beg for his kiss. But it was her eyes that stole the words
from him. They were the color of rain clouds on a stormy day, and held a deep
sorrow that cut him to the core of his soul.

He barely heard her mumbled
apology, though all he could manage was a small shake of his head to indicate
that he wasn’t offended by her stepping into his path. Somehow, his mouth
formed a smile and he hoped it looked sincere and delighted, rather than simply
polite.

Then her face changed. She appeared
to be caught by amazement for a moment and he knew that his grin had the effect
he’d hoped it would.

A thought struck him.

What was such a beautiful woman
doing here, gazing in the front window of Tiffany’s? He’d never known a woman
who
didn’t
go into a store, even if she had no intention of purchasing
anything.

As though she’d read his
mind, she turned her head toward the store window, and he followed her gaze. A
crystal angel stood on the other side in the midst of what he guessed were
cotton balls arranged to look like clouds, although their size seemed more
suitable for playing soccer. Was that what she’d been staring at? He couldn’t
blame her—the figurine was exquisite.

He returned his attention
to her, but her interest remained on the angel a moment longer before she
looked up at him again.

“Apology accepted, though
not necessary.” Removing his bare hand from his coat pocket, he held it out to
her. “Daniel Trotter. And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting today?”

The rosy color already
blooming on her cheeks intensified noticeably.

“Allison Benton.” Her voice
sounded almost musical to his ears.

She grasped his hand, and a
shock of electricity went straight to his heart. Why did he feel as if he’d
been hit with a fully charged, industrial strength taser? The expression on her
face told him that she’d had a similar—and maybe the same—reaction.

“Simply gorgeous.” He
hadn’t intended to speak aloud.

The pink in her cheeks
deepened further. “No. I’m not—”

“I meant the angel in the
window,” he said, thinking quickly. “Though the description fits you, as well.”

She diverted her attention
to the buttons on his coat. “Thank you, but I don’t think I deserve such a high
compliment.”

“I’d enjoy nothing more
than to continue talking with you. However, I’m late for an appointment.” The
desire to see her again was too powerful for him to ignore.

She simply smiled in
return.

Not knowing why, he pulled
a card from his pocket and handed it to her.

“If you’d like to talk more—and
maybe give your life some meaning—I’ll be at this address at one o’clock
tomorrow afternoon.” He wasn’t sure where those words came from or why he said
it that way, but it seemed like the right thing at the moment.

She accepted the card and bent her
head to peer at it.

As much as he didn’t want this
encounter to end, he knew it was time to go. If he was any later in getting to
the meeting, it would need to be rescheduled. He couldn’t afford to let that
happen.

While she was distracted, he strode
away. Moving at a rapid pace, he uttered a quick prayer, asking God to bring
Allison to see him the next day.

For the few moments he’d spoken
with her, his heart had felt at peace. He knew there was a reason they met, and
that she was meant to be in his life—hopefully for the remainder of it.

Prologue

Allison couldn’t believe her ears.
The boss had called a mandatory meeting of all employees, and here she was,
sitting in the conference room being told that Elite Editing Services would no
longer exist after today.

Why was this happening to her now?
How could he just close up shop and let everyone go with no notice? Besides,
she’d been one of the most sought-after editors in the entire firm, but now the
place was closing down forever.

As if that wasn’t bad enough,
Christmas was next week. Not that she celebrated such holidays, but it just
didn’t seem right for this to be happening now.

What was she gonna do about the
rent for next month? Or the month after that? She really didn’t want to be
hunting for work in the middle of winter. Not in New York City, of all places.

“I want you all to know,” Mr.
Flanders was saying, “that I did everything I could to keep this from
happening—especially with the upcoming holidays. All options have been
exhausted, and the simple fact is that I have no choices left.” His voice
betrayed his emotions. “I don’t want this anymore than you do, but there’s
nothing I can do now.”

Oh great! Henry Flanders was going
to cry any second. Well, tears weren’t what she wanted at the moment. She
wanted—
needed
—a steady job, and now that was being taken away from her.

What else was on her immediate horizon?
Better yet, why was she being punished? What had she ever done to infuriate the
Deity that her mother insisted on worshipping?

“If anyone wants to leave early,”
the boss droned on, “you’ll still be paid for working a full day. I chose today
to go out of business so that I could give you each the bonus you deserve.
Otherwise, if I’d kept us open until the end of the month, there wouldn’t be
anything left. I know how difficult this is for each one of you, and I
sincerely hope you know how hard it is for me, too.”

He went on for a few more minutes,
but Allison had ceased listening. She had other concerns to be worried about.
By the time Flanders finished speaking, it was time for lunch. Without another
word to the others, Allison packed her personal items from her desk, signed out
for the last time, and left the office she’d come to love over the last few
years.

Chapter ONE

Why did she keep coming here to
torture herself over something she couldn’t have? Allison had first seen the
crystal angel in the Tiffany’s window two weeks ago. It had summoned her as she
walked by with her mind on the most recent bad news. A bright twinkle of light
was all it took to catch her eye and turn her head. The longing to own the
angel with upward-reaching wings began that day.

That was the day her boss told her
he had to let her go. Three years as a copy editor flushed into the sewer
because the firm was closing its doors for lack of incoming work. Seems all
their clients found it cheaper to hire freelancers from the internet than to
keep a respected editing house running.

Oh well, that was just normal for
her life, wasn’t it? As soon as she’d begin to think she’d finally get her head
up above the curb and could climb up onto the sidewalk, something would happen
to knock her back into the gutter.

The angel, though, beckoned her to
gaze at it, to desire it with all her heart, to stand there at rapt attention
paying no heed to anything around her. She willingly complied, and every chance
that came along, she’d stand there gawking at it.

“What is this hold you have on me?”
She hadn’t intended to say it aloud, but was glad she’d only whispered. “Why do
I want you so desperately?”

She knew the answers to those
questions, but refused to acknowledge them. It hurt too much to go there, so
she kept that file drawer closed and locked. No. She wasn’t going to say
another prayer to a God who took her father away. Period. End of story.

Her life was a mess, too, thanks to
Him. Oh sure, her boss had given her enough of a bonus to keep her apartment in
Greenwich Village for another month, but she’d have to be out by the end of
January. Then what was she going to do? Go back to that little podunk town in
Pennsylvania?

“Sure. Like I’m gonna let that
happen.” She whispered again, eyes still fixed on the angel. “There’s nothing
left for me back there.”

That thought sent a river of ice
down her spine, but with little hope of finding employment, there wasn’t much
else she could do. No way did she want to go back to the place she was born—and
where all her troubles began. Something would come along, and until it did she
planned to take each day as it came. She just hoped whatever it was would
arrive soon.

Something about the twelve-inch
tall crystal figure—with its frosted-looking face, hands, and wings all pointed
upward—called out once more, touching a part of her she’d sworn would never see
the light of day again. It seemed to have the uncanny ability to pierce even
the stoniest of hearts. She knew it was crazy to think that way, but couldn’t
help it.

Talk to me
.

The voice flew across her mind. She
knew it wasn’t a conscious thought of her own, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t
happened.

“What?” She was also sure she
didn’t have a hearing problem.

Talk to me
.

She tore her gaze from the angel
and glanced around to see who was nearby. Certainly someone was playing a trick
on her. No one was within a hundred feet of her.

I can help, but only if you let
me
.

So sweet and delicate, that voice.
Yet there was an insistent ring to it.

“I don’t know who you are.”

Yes, you do
.

Could it be…? No. Crystal figurines
can’t do that. It must be her imagination playing with her. Yep, that was it.
She’d been so deep in thought about her problems that her mind was using this
to bring her back to reality.

That’s not true
.

Of course it was. It had to be. If
it wasn’t, then the only other possibility was that she was losing her mind.
Wouldn’t that be just perfect? To have her brain go whacko on New Year’s Eve,
of all days.

You’re not going whacko
.

“Yeah? Prove it to me.” Her
voice was still a whisper, thankfully. People were beginning to walk by on the
sidewalk behind her now.

~~*~~

Glancing around, Allison waited
until no one was close enough to hear her one-sided conversation with a crystal
figurine on the other side of the wall of glass.

A giggle that sounded more like
tiny glass bells tinkling swept through her mind.

Keeping her voice at a whisper, she
returned her attention to the angel. “I guess that means you have no proof for
me.”

Not at all. It simply means that
you will soon know
.

“What am I gonna know?”

That I only want to help you.
And you aren’t going crazy. You’ll never suffer that way
.

That answer struck deep down,
turning the marrow in her bones to ice. She’d often had an unbridled fear of
becoming insane. She’d asked her father when she was a little girl why Aunt
Cindy had to go to an institution. She hadn’t been sure what that was at the
time, but she’d soon learned. He’d replied that the women on his side of the
family had a tendency to “go off their rockers,” as he’d put it. How could this
small statue have any knowledge of that?

I’m not the figurine, and you
know it
.

Oh? Then it must be a trick of some
sort. Maybe even a malevolent spirit. Was that it?

Again, the tinkling.
No. Not at
all. Far from it, I assure you
.

Wait! She hadn’t responded out
loud. Was this thing reading her mind now?

I’ve already told you I’m not
the figurine or any form of malicious spirit
.

“Then I was right,” she whispered,
glancing around to confirm that she was alone. She was. “My mind is playing
tricks on me. Aunt Cindy, here I come.”

Your aunt is no longer in the
institution
.

Her mind went blank from
the shock for a moment. How did this thing know where her aunt was? Or that the
woman had passed away almost a year ago? For that matter, how did it know
anything about her at all?

Why do you insist that I’m a
chunk of crystallized glass?

“Because you are.” She must be
caught in some weird alternate reality or something—as if she’d been whisked
away to the Twilight Zone. Maybe that old TV show had some validity after all.
It was the only thing left that made any sense at all, however questionable
that kind of thinking was.

Nope. That’s not it, either. You
know the truth
.

“No, I don’t. Not really.” It was a
lie, but she couldn’t afford to have some voice in her head win the argument.
If she faced the truth of the situation, it would get her in a death-grip and
try to take over her life. She wouldn’t allow that for any kind of
compensation.

I don’t want to take over your
life
.

“Oh? How can I be sure of that?”

Because that’s not how I do
things
.

Okay, then. So far, so good. But
this could still be her own mind trying to make sense of everything.

Nope. We’ve ruled that out,
haven’t we?

“You did, but I’m still not
convinced.” Another quick, cautious glance to be sure she was alone and not
being tricked by anyone standing near. No one was close enough to hear anything
she whispered.

Because once you realize it’s
not you, or a malicious spirit, only one thing remains
.

“Exactly! And I’m not going there.”
She knew what the voice was trying to get her to say, but it wasn’t going to
happen. Nope. Not since her father had been taken from her. She wasn’t even
going to acknowledge anything to do with that.

Your father wasn’t stolen from
you. His time had come. That’s all there was to it
.

“That’s what everyone kept telling
me, but I never believed it.” Yes, she was still angry about it, even though it
had been more than ten years.

The driver who caused the
accident is still in prison. He won’t be released until he no longer takes
another breath
.

What? How could the voice know
that? She didn’t even know the man was still there. To be honest, she didn’t
even care.

I know all things
.

“That’s impossible!”

Nothing is impossible
.

Trembling now, Allison didn’t want
to ask the next question, but she realized she needed an answer to the most
burning question in her mind.

“Who are you?”

You already know who I
Am, even though you don’t want to admit it
.

~~*~~

No. No. And no!

There was no way she was even going
to consider what the voice was suggesting. This must be someone’s sick idea of
a joke. But if that was the case, how were they getting inside her head?
Nothing had been spoken aloud, except by her. And she’d been careful to only
whisper whenever there were no other people around.

No. She was being tricked by a
cruel spirit and she was having no further part of this.

I assure you again that I’m not
evil, nor am I cruel
.

“But if I think for even one second
what I don’t want to think—then what?”

Then I can help you. In fact,
help is already on the way
.

“Oh, sure! And the moon is capable
of sustaining human life.” She knew it was sarcastic, but she couldn’t help
herself.

I could make it that way, if I
so desired
.

What? “That’s absurd! Not to
mention impossible.”

That tinkling giggle came yet
again.

What was so funny? She was being
serious, but that blasted voice wanted to play games.

I don’t play games
.

“Yeah? So what is it, then? Do you
just enjoy torturing me, or something?”

I’m not doing anything like
that, and you know it
.

“Then what do you want with me?
Come on. Spill it.” She was getting weary of this nonsense.

I told you. I want to help you
.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. And help is on
the way, right?”

Indeed it is. Closer than you
realize
.

Okay. She’d had well more than
enough of this. “Who are you? Tell me right now.”

You know who I Am.
A quick
pause.
Ah! Help has arrived!

“What?” She spun around as the
radio from a slowly passing car blared out Auld Lang Syne. No one was close by.
An unbidden thought crossed her mind. Maybe she really did need help, after
all. She turned back to gaze at the angel again.

I’m waiting
.

That was the only prompt she
needed. Before her brain could react, her heart spat out a prayer for
assistance and guidance—for her life to have some meaning. For a split second
afterward, she was glad that wall had come crashing down. A second later,
though, she busied herself with rebuilding it.

Too late. You let me in. Now I’m
here, and I’m going to help you
.

“Yeah. And your help has arrived,
hasn’t it?” There was that sarcastic tone again.

Yes
.

A simple, one-word answer. How
interesting. She waited for a response, but none came.

“What? Are you tired of your fun
and games?”

Still no reply.

Humph! That was fun. Not.

She’d been there long enough. Too
long, really. Time to go. Night was beginning to fall and she had a long ride
home. She paused for a few more seconds, eyes still fixed on the angel
figurine.

Turning to go, she stepped away
from the window—and bumped headlong into a wall she didn’t recall being there
before.

She took a moment to blink the
confusion from her eyes. When the ability to see clearly had come back to her,
she noticed that the wall was wearing an expensive looking suit and tie
underneath one of the softest coats she’d ever felt. Was that cashmere? That’s
when the light scent of a rain-washed forest hit her nostrils. Her brain
recognized it as a man’s cologne.

She stepped back, daring to look
up. The man was tall—probably six-feet-four-inches—though not what she’d call
handsome. But there was something about him that demanded her attention. Was it
the dark brown eyes that seemed to regard her with curious attention? Was it
the way he styled his short black hair, or the squared, clean-shaven jaw line?
Maybe it was all of these.

“I’m sorry, sir. Please excuse me.”
Her voice was only marginally louder than it had been mere moments earlier.

He barely shook his head, and
smiled down at her. She detected an amused gleam in his eyes.

Unaware that her jaw seemed to fall
off its hinges, she decided her first impression of him was not only wrong, it
was the complete opposite. This man was exactly what she’d always thought of as
stunning.