Miracle in the Mist Read Online Free Page B

perimeter of the village, the messenger between Emanuel and the Guides who found the wounded souls and sent them to Renaissance to heal. Ever since Alvin had come to them after the tragic loss of his wife, Clara had never known Emanuel to charge Alvin with the care of an Assignment.
    "Alvin and our new Assignment have much in common. I believe in this instance that the Healer, as well as the Assignment, is in need of being ministered to." He patted Clara's hand. "I have put this off long enough, my dear. Alvin cannot go on forever shouldering this heavy burden, a burden that is not his to bear." He smiled wistfully. "Perhaps there will be three souls who find peace very soon."
    Clara should have known that it hadn't escaped Emanuel's notice that Alvin kept to himself. That he only accepted responsibility if it didn't directly entail another human being's welfare. Sometimes Alvin's self-imposed isolation just tore at her heart. He had so much to give, if he could only find peace within himself. She could easily see the wisdom of Emanuel's choice, but would Alvin? However, she had learned long ago that Emanuel's wisdom often found its roots in things of which she had no knowledge.
    A loud knock sounded on the door. Clara hurried to answer it. A very tall, very husky, middle-aged man, dressed in buckskin and smelling like crisp, fresh air, took up a good deal of the opening. His face, weathered by the elements through which he loved traipsing, was nearly hidden behind his unruly, dark brown hair and a beard that sprouted from his cheeks and jaw like an overgrown huckleberry bush.
    "Evenin', Clara."
    "Hello, Alvin."
    He nodded in the direction of the table. "Emanuel."
    "Good evening, Alvin." Emanuel motioned to the chair at his side. "Please, join me for a cup of Clara's outstanding coffee."
    Clara smiled to herself. If Emanuel had a weakness, it was his love of coffee, and true to his diplomatic nature, he often made the proclamation that the coffee in which he was indulging at the moment was the best he'd ever had. She'd once asked him about it, and he'd smiled and explained that whatever cup of coffee he was drinking at the time was, indeed, the best he'd had, since it was also, at that moment, the only one. She knew it was just one small facet of the abundance of love he showered equally on those around him.
    As Alvin started to take a step forward, Clara, though more than a foot shorter than him, stopped him with a firm hand to his broad, muscular chest. "Mind you wipe your feet," she admonished and kept a discerning eye trained on him until he did.
    Satisfied that her gleaming floor would not be tracked up with the mud from the woods where Alvin had undoubtedly spent his day, she stepped back and made way for him to move past her into the room.
    Between her weaving loom nestled in the corner near the blazing hearth and the imposing figures of both Alvin and Emanuel in her small kitchen, the keeping room seemed to shrink considerably. Clara hustled about, getting Alvin coffee. When she had it poured and placed in front of him, she joined the men at the table, eager to see Alvin's reaction to having his first Assignment.
    "I have a job for you," Emanuel said, favoring his friend with a smile.
    Clara saw no reaction from Alvin, but that didn't surprise her. Little that was said to him or happened around him stirred much of a response in Alvin, besides this was a request he'd often heard from the Elder in the past.
    "Where will you be sending me this time?" Alvin asked without preamble or a change of expression.
    "You won't be leaving the village this time, my boy." Emanuel pointed out the window at the gathering mist. "A new Assignment will soon enter the village, but there is also one due tomorrow evening. I'll be going to meet him in the woods above the Glen. Steve and Meghan will be bringing him to me."
    A warm glow surrounded Clara's heart at the mention of the two people who had found love inside the village despite almost