Sanctuary Among Strangers Read online

  Sanctuary Among Strangers

  Josie Finch

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright © 2019 Josie Finch

  Cover design by Teresa Conner teresaconner.com / wolfsparrowcovers.com

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, or angelic, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers,

  for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.

  Hebrews 13:1-2 NIV

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Chapter One

  January, 1887 Sacramento Valley, California

  The clock on the wall began to chime nine o’clock in the evening. But before the bell could fully count the time, Warren Harting stilled the workings and pulled the clock from its place.

  In the past when Warren had moved out from a studio or storefront, he had left the clocks for the new owners. But life was getting rougher and he needed to sell as much as he could before he moved on. He placed the clock next to a stack of heavy frames and some photography equipment. When he had decided for sure what all he was going to keep and what he could afford to part with, he would take out an ad in the paper declaring what he had to sell.

  Warren had been making his living as a photographer for over ten years. When he reflected on all the life he had witnessed through his camera lens, Warren still felt awe and reverence. Warren had photographed Westward camps and good time girls. He had done portraits of couples on their wedding day, multiple generations gathered together in front of a parlor Victrola, and he had even memorialized people in death. Warren knew his photographs would be given to lovers, passed down to grandchildren, and outlive the subjects in the pictures. Warren was aware how much his work was a part of history. But he was more concerned with how his work would impact those sharing his lifetime.

  Unfortunately, just because his work was meaningful didn’t mean it could always pay the rent.

  Even in the West where the cup of life overflowed with dreams and hopes in every town, the local business for photography would eventually dwindle away. Warren would have to pack up and move to another place where the novelty of a photographer was a fresh distraction from the daily toil of life. The gold dust of the Westward rushes had settled, but there would always be another town on the horizon eager to capture the memories of today as time marched on. That is, until the money ran out, and Warren would move on.

  But this time was different. This time, Warren was going to have to decide if moving on would mean heading to another town, or if it would mean leaving earth altogether.

  Being an angel, Warren had that option.

  Of course, no one around him knew their local photographer was an angel. For the most part, humans were unaware that angels lived among them as fellow citizens—from farmers to doctors, merchants to schoolteachers.

  Warren had always lived on earth and he had much more in common with humans than he did with fellow angels. Warren’s parents had left the war-torn home in another dimension to seek refuge and a quiet life on earth. There had long been a war between the Fallen angels who had given humans their place in heaven, and Righteous angels who believed they were the only rightful citizens of heaven. Many innocent angels were caught between as violence spread throughout many angelic worlds. Earth was one of the only refuges available to Fallen angels, like Warren’s family.

  Warren’s parents found the quiet life on earth they had sought. Settling on the outskirts of a small town on the Kansas prairie, George and Minnie Harting raised their three children and farmed a humble acreage. Warren was the middle child. His younger sister was named Lettie, his older sister was Clara.

  Though Warren’s family had escaped a world of warring angels for a mundane existence in Kansas, they still nurtured the divine gifts that came with angelic heritage.

  As his sisters grew, their angelic abilities became stronger while Warren showed no special abilities at all. Lettie could travel into other dimensions in the blink of an eye. She loved when she could manage to pop in and out without their parents noticing. She made a game of sitting at the dinner table, popping out for a while and popping right back in faster than someone could pass her the salt.

  Clara found out very early that she could talk to the dead. At least, the ones that were around for her to talk to. Souls that hadn’t passed over would linger on earth. Usually those souls were pretty angry, but Clara said that there were some who were friendly.

  For the longest time, Warren lied and said he had no idea what sort of angelic abilities he had. His parents tried everything—attempted to get him to grow plants, heal the sick, talk to animals. In the end all that happened was Warren had a bunch of dead daisies in his bedroom window, he caught chicken pox from the neighbor, and took care of a cantankerous cat no one else liked for a few years. Hardly divine.

  The truth was Warren knew his abilities had to do with emotions. He could sense emotions of those around him, especially humans. But as he entered his teen years he came less aware of other emotions and could only sense one: fear. As he grew older he found he could absorb fear, take on the fears of others, and relieve the edge of the emotion in those around him. He learned quickly there was a lot of fear in the world.

  That wouldn’t be so bad if Warren had some control, but he found he couldn’t turn it off. Thus he pursued a trade that brought with it as little drama as possible. Most people were excited to get their picture taken and Warren found he liked tinkering with the equipment and artistry of getting portraits to turn out the way he envisioned. And he could hole himself up in the back of a studio and not go out much. Warren liked that.

  But nothing lasts forever. The happy, albeit eclectic, existence the Harting family made for themselves in a small town in Kansas did come to an end.

  No angel is immortal. Even in other worlds, angels die.

  Warren’s mother fell ill and died when he was twenty. Laden with heartache and the pain of a fading body, Warren’s father passed away the following year.

  Lettie, Warren, and Clara were closer than ever, but they all knew they were going to take different paths with their lives. Lettie, the fighter, left for war-torn parts of the Universe and became a soldier. Clara left for less volatile territory—traveling to neutral worlds to friend and attend to those who were staying on the fringes of the war and didn’t want to come to earth. As for Warren, he bought his own photography equipment, faced his own fears, and left Kansas as a traveling photographer.

  Most of the time Warren was more than happy to forget he was an angel. Though life on earth in the year of 1887 wasn’t always easy, Warren thought it was better than the persecution that awaited Fallen Angels in other worlds. Warren did run into other angels from time to time. There were several angelic communities sprinkled on the Westward trail. Many Fallen Angels had decided, like Warren, to have no part in the war and live out their lives on earth. And though Warren passed through these communities, it never felt right to stay. He never found companionship or love with any other angel or human along his travels. It was just him, his camera, and the next town.

  Warren’s
photography took him from the plains of Kansas to the West coast of California. Now in his early thirties, Warren sometimes entertained the idea of returning home to Kansas, though he wasn’t sure why he still felt Kansas was home. The only things left for him in the little town of White Spring were the headstones marking his parent’s graves.

  Warren leaned the stilled clock into the pile of things he planned to sell. Even if he wasn’t going to head back East, he’d have to go somewhere. The money was running out and, as always, he had never ventured away from his studio long enough to make any friends. No one in this town would miss him when he left.

  Warren leaned against his desk. Come to think of it, no one on earth would miss him if he left. Maybe he finally had to admit that he would never fit in this world. Maybe it was time to leave. He didn’t have to help fight in the war. He could help Clara in a dimension that was less dangerous.

  Warren sighed. Leaving earth was a big decision and he desperately wanted to talk the matter over with one of his sisters. They could always help him make the right decisions.

  Of course, if he wanted real advice he should ask Clara. Clara was grounded and possessed a wisdom that transcended her years. But Warren found himself thinking about Lettie instead. She taught Warren to take chances and enjoy life when he tended to worry or overthink things. Sometimes her perspective was just what he needed to solve a problem. But more often than not, Lettie’s impulsiveness got her into troubles she would never have been in if she had taken her time.

  Warren frowned, staring absently over his cluttered studio. He had not seen Lettie in a few months and he was worried about her. But he couldn’t exactly send a telegraph to a different dimension. Unless one of them stopped on earth to check on him, Warren never knew where either of his sisters were in the Universe.

  Warren crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He could see Lettie clearly in his mind. She was a fierce bundle in a five-foot nothing package. She had hazel eyes and dark blonde hair—the darkest of the three siblings. Warren’s hair was a sandy blonde and Clara’s was snow white. Lettie had an enchanting smile, but her eyes could never conceal her true emotions. She could never look anyone in the eye and tell a lie.

  Warren felt a jolt behind his eyes and for a moment he felt as though his sister were there in the room with him. It wasn’t just Lettie’s memory—his intuition was telling him she was near. Ever since they were children the siblings could sense each other. And Warren sensed Lettie was popping in for a visit. Maybe that’s the reason she had come to mind in the first place. Warren opened his eyes and stood up from his desk. He had taken three steps toward the door when he heard the knock.

  The moment Warren threw open the door he was met with Lettie’s smirk and those hazel eyes glistening with a look of mischief he knew well.

  “Oh, good,” she said. “You’re awake.”

  “Lettie…” Warren’s worry for his sister dissipated and transformed into worry for himself. Whatever she had gotten herself into, he had a feeling he was going to have to get her out of. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just got off the train and thought I’d stop by.” She moved around him and entered the studio without further detail.

  Warren looked at the landing and saw she had not brought any luggage with her. He sighed and closed the door.

  The nearest train station was several miles away and Warren knew Lettie never traveled on any earthly mode of transportation, anyway. She had just popped in at his door step straight from another dimension.

  “Are you alone?” Warren asked.

  “Alone as I can be at the moment.”

  Warren gave her a suspicious glance. “What does that mean?”

  Lettie pulled off her riding cape and threw it over a chair. When she turned back to face him Warren could see his sister whom he hadn’t seen in around three months was obviously nine months pregnant. Even for an angel, that math didn’t add up. She did not look comfortable and she was wearing an ill-fitting dress that was ugly on her because it was not her typical style.

  Warren groaned, running his hands into his hair, stopping himself before he started pulling it out.

  “Oh… Lettie. Why? How? What now?”

  “Oh,” she twisted a lock of her hair around her index finger, a tell-tale sign she was going to stall. “We’ll get to that.” She pointed to the pile of things Warren had stacked up in the corner. “Are you moving again?”

  “No, I like to do my spring cleaning in the middle of January.”

  “Have you sold the place yet?”

  “Not yet. Why?”

  “Just making sure you have the option to stay.”

  “Do you need a place to stay with the baby?” Warren said quickly.

  Lettie laughed out loud, and Warren thought it would sound obnoxious if he didn’t love her so much.

  “No.” she said. “Not that, but… I do need help.”

  Warren sighed. “Help as in, I need to borrow fifty dollars or help as in I need you to save the Universe?”

  “You say save the Universe like it’s a bad thing,” Lettie responded, rolling her eyes.

  Warren let out a long breath. Now was not the time to bring up the fact he had been considering leaving earth. He decided to stick to his usual story.

  “Look, Lettie. I’m proud of you and Clara doing what you can to help with the war, off in other dimensions. But my place is here, on earth. I would be useless anywhere else.” He reached out and gently held her shoulders. “I want to live my life, do my work, and just stay out of it.”

  Instead of deterring Lettie with his speech, her eyes lit up and she stood on tiptoe for a moment.

  “Ah. See.” She pointed to her stomach. “The person I have in here didn’t want to be involved either. And that’s what I need your help with.”

  Warren took a step back. Against his better judgement he said, “I’m listening.”

  “I don’t usually do this sort of thing.” She gestured at the protuberance beneath her ugly dress with both hands. “I can usually get souls out and take them somewhere safe. But this place was bad. I mean bad. And we were being watched, very closely. I had to hide the soul inside me. You know, we can do that if we have to.”

  Warren ran a hand over his face. “I am aware.” It was a common enough practice. Fallen angels could hide a soul inside of themselves, harboring that soul to earth without the Righteous knowing. Problem was, the soul then had to be reborn on earth. Thus the ugly maternity dress.

  “So you smuggled someone out, and now you have to have the baby here,” Warren summarized dully.

  “That’s the problem. I am not having a baby.”

  Warren grinned at his younger sister. “Looks to me like you don’t have a choice.”

  “But I do, if someone would help me out.”

  Warren’s grin faded. “That someone being me, huh?”

  Lettie laced her fingers together to keep from fidgeting. “Here’s the deal. I was behind enemy lines when I took this soul. The Righteous know what I look like and I’ve got a pretty hot target on my back. Usually, I could go deep enough to separate the soul from mine and bring us both back in separate bodies. But with the Righteous looking for me, I can only go deep enough to make a transfer.”

  “Transfer,” Warren repeated. “As in. Transfer the baby. From you. To me.”

  Lettie looked at the ceiling. “…Yeah.”

  “What will you do if I say no?”

  Lettie looked straight at him. “I don't have to be a mind reader to know you're not going to say no.”

  Warren ran the back of his hand over his forehead. He was trying not to get upset but he knew Lettie was using the element of surprise to her advantage.

  “Then what? You don’t want to deliver the baby here on earth… but I physically can’t.”

  “Yeah… about that. We have a few days to play with. I’ll find another angel to take you deep enough to separate your soul from hers and bring you both back. The Righteous won’t be loo
king for that so you’ll be safe. I promise I'll find you someone who can help.”

  “Just that easy, huh?”

  She didn’t look at him when she answered, “Couldn’t be more simple.”

  Lettie sighed and sat on the corner of Warren’s desk. “Look, you don't even have to keep the baby. Just take care of her long enough for me to find a place. Lots of angels are raising families on earth. We will find someone who will take her in. I’ll find someone before I leave again.”

  “Lettie… It sounds so cold and impersonal when you say it like that.”

  She crossed her arms defiantly over the bump. “There’s a war on, Warren. And I'm doing my part to get the souls of the Fallen seeking sanctuary safely to earth.” She threw up her hands. “I can get her here, but none of her memories will come back until she’s grown. I’m not raising a child. I can't wait around two decades to get back in the action.”

  “All right,” Warren said. “I understand, I really do. But, Lettie… why me? If you already have to go out of your way to find other angels to help us, why not transfer the baby to one of them?”

  Lettie bit her lip. “In order to make a successful transfer, I need someone close to me, someone who shares a lot of memories and emotions with me. There aren’t many people I have that connection with.”

  Warren couldn’t help but glare. “Did you talk to Clara?”

  “I did think about it. But she travels a lot. She’s practically never on earth. You’ve been on earth your whole life. The more time you spend here, the less visible you are to the Righteous. If anything were to go wrong, you’d be the safest.”

  “Lettie. I've only ever been out of my body once before… and that was an accident. I almost didn’t survive.” Warren did his best to keep his voice even. “If Clara hadn’t ignored Mother and Father telling her she was too young and it was too dangerous for her to go after me, I would have died when I was twelve.”

  Lettie snorted. “I was only ten and even I told her she was stupid.” She shrugged. “But I’m glad she didn’t listen.”