A Forever Christmas

She didn’t know.

Would she ever know? Would she ever know anything about anything?

The uncertainty was driving her crazy.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders helplessly again. “But something feels that way,” she found herself admitting.

Gabe merely nodded. This time, he turned on the engine. It rumbled to life.

“It’ll come to you,” he promised. “All of it. When you least expect it.”

She slanted a glance at him. Was he talking down to her? Or was there experience on which to base his answer?

“How do you know?” she finally challenged, not wanting to come across like a simpleton, secretly hoping to be convinced.

“I just do,” Gabe said easily. He smiled at her. “It’s called faith.”

Did she have that? Did she have any faith? she wondered. She hoped so. She needed something to hang on to, she thought in desperation. So, for now, maybe it would be faith.

Faith in the man who was sitting beside her. A man who, though she really didn’t remember it, apparently had saved her life.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll have faith.”

Her answer surprised him, but he made a point of not showing her that.

“Good.”

He’d wanted to insert her name here, except that there was no name to use. She hadn’t had any sort of identification on her—no driver’s license, no social security card, no well-creased love letter addressed to her hidden in the pocket of her black dress.

And if there had been any form of ID in the vehicle, most likely it was now burned to a crisp—as she almost was.

“I need something to call you,” he told her. Even as he said it, he began going through possible names and rapidly discarding them for one reason or another. And then he had it. Just like that. “I know, how about Angel?”

“Angel?” she repeated, testing it out on her ear. Like everything else, it didn’t seem familiar, but she liked the sound of it. “Why Angel?”

“Because you look like one,” he answered simply. “At least, like one of the angels I used to picture when I was a kid,” he told her with an affable grin.

“Angel,” she said again, and then nodded. It had a nice ring to it. “All right. I guess you can call me that.”

“Just until you remember your real name,” he emphasized. Although he had a hunch it wasn’t going to be as good as “Angel.”

She looked at him, wishing she could believe what he’d just said. Why was it so easy for him and so hard for her?

“You really think I will?” she asked him.

There wasn’t so much as a second’s hesitation on his part. He saw no point in trying to hedge or qualify his words. This woman didn’t need hesitation. She needed someone to believe for her until she could believe for herself.

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