The Legend of McBride

This story is set in the class Tess was teaching the day after the events of "Beautiful Dreamer". Any Mark Schultz fans should recognise the twist.

"Miss Tess. Miss Tess!"

The hand shot up from the back of the class.

"Yes Angela?" Tess replied.

"Do you know anymore stories about the Angel that Mr Lincoln and Mr Booth met?" The young girl asked with a glint in her eye.

Tess smiled to herself. Yesterday she had told her class the story of the night Abraham Lincoln died. They had sat in stunned silence as she described to them how John Wilkes Booth had planned to assassinate the president despite Andrew's attempted intervention.

"Why do you want to hear another story Angela?"

"Cause I liked the way you told it, and I…." She paused and looked around the room sheepishly.

"Go on baby, and what?" Tess encouraged.

"And cause he sounds real nice, the Angel I mean, and I like to imagine him while you are talking."

All but one other student in the class laughed. Calvin sat at the back his face set with a scowl.

"Alright children!" Tess called over the din. "It is perfectly alright for Angela to imagine what he looks like. Out of interest Angela, what does he look like to you?"

The young girl sat for a moment and looked out the window.

"He looks about my Daddy's age, and he is tall and good looking." She said with certainty, bringing another round of giggles from the class. "He looks like he is a fun person, like my Uncle Bobby, who's always taking us on fun trips. Sometimes he looks like the school gardener or the man who pumps the gas at the fuel stop"

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. If I close my eyes I can imagine how he smells."

This statement brought a roar of laughter from the rest of the class.

"I SAID ENOUGH!" Tess bellowed in her best teachers voice. The room fell completely silent. "It is OK that Angela imagines these things. It is OK that she imagines how an Angel would smell. Who here KNOWS how an Angel smells?" When twenty-two heads shook Tess sealed her statement with a nod. "So if no one knows how an Angel smells, why is it funny that someone should imagine how they smelt?"

It was amazing how many children in the class suddenly found the walls, windows, desks or even carpet intensely interesting. Tess scowled at them for a moment and the turned back to the now blushing Angela.

"Now Angela what does your Angel 'smell' like?"

"He smells like… grass that has just been cut. Like the snow when it falls on my tongue. Like candyfloss on a stick. Like…"

"My mums cookies just out of the oven." Calvin piped in.

"Like my puppy after a bath" another voice called.

"Like Nannies garden…" "Like Granddads jacket…" "Like the candy store…".

Children called out from all over the room. Each smell, each memory was one of beauty and love.

Tess held up her hands, she wouldn't get anywhere with the story if they didn't start soon. Instantly the room fell silent like an orchestra responding to the conductor. Tess moved across and sat down at her desk.

"Andrew's next assignment was going to take him across to the other side of the country. It involved a man called John McBride. He lived in Texas. Now if you are real quiet and close your eyes you might be able to hear the wind as it blows across the plains. Blowing through the little town of Iverson."

Twenty-two pairs of eyes closed as Tess began her story.

Iverson TX 1865

The hot summer wind blew relentlessly down the main street of Iverson. Ladies in cotton summer dresses and peaked bonnets tilted their frames into the wind as they made their way up the boardwalks. Horse tied to rails skittered nervously in the incessant wind. One figure stood alone from the folk of Iverson. The young man looked in his thirties, he was dressed like any other man in Iverson, buckskin trousers with a white linen shirt under a tan vest, his boots had a high polish despite the dusty conditions. The broad brimmed hat he wore hid his sun blonde hair. People passed him without notice. This was not surprising, he hadn't been told to make himself noticed to anyone in town yet.

He leant against a bracing pole on the corner of the local undertakers. It was the best vantage point to see the entire town. The irony of his locale didn't go un-noticed by the young man. Andrew took his pocket watch out and glanced at the time. Ten thirty am. He had been here for nearly an hour. And still no indication of what his assignment was. Andrew was still new to this. He had been an Angel of God since the beginning, but he had only been an Angel of Death for a little over twenty-four hours human time. His first assignment was to bring Abraham Lincoln home to the arms of the Father. News of the Presidents death had yet to reach Iverson.

Iverson, like so many frontier towns was a little spot about 120 miles south east of Abilene. The wide-open spaces of the Texas Plains drove spirited men and women to forge new lives for themselves in a new land. It was a hard life, but rewarding if you could make it work. The residents, made up mainly of farmers, ranchers and their families worked hard to make Iverson their home. It had a church, a schoolhouse, a better than average hotel, all kinds of general merchandise stores, a sheriff and an undertaker. The roads were wide, clean and quiet, and generally everyone was proud of their little town.

Sheriff Travis Denham had been elected to the office the day the original settlers had claimed the land, some fifteen years earlier. He was now in his fifties and, apart from the odd drunken squabble had never seen much action during his tenure. This was due to two factors in his favour. One, the folk of Iverson were generally law-abiding people. And two, the Ranger of the area was a living legend - John McBride.

McBride had the double-edged honour of being called the Peaceful Peacemaker. He had carved a name for himself from Abilene down through Galveston. He was a man who preferred to use his head rather than his hand. If he could resolve a situation without resorting to violence then he would make every attempt to do so, and even when it came to violence he would never seem to touch a gun. This of course did not mean he wouldn't, but he discouraged it as much as possible. People all around crowded him wherever he went. It was said that he had originally been a man of the cloth who had become disheartened by what he could do as a preacher and decided to try to work the Lords words from a different view. Some said gunmen had murdered his wife and children and so he swore never to touch weapons of violence again. It seemed for every town he visited there was a story. But the truth was, no body knew for certain exactly why John McBride was like he was. They only knew he was.

Having this living legend in your area made life a little simpler for Denham. It didn't mean that he always saw eye to eye with McBride, a man who didn't use a gun was a little too odd to be a Lawman in Denham's eyes. But he had to admire the mans sass not to use one in the line of work he had chosen. McBride couldn't go anywhere in the state without making a scene. And news of his impending arrival had run ahead of him like a barking dog. "McBride's comin' to town. McBride's comin' to town!" they shouted. And he was. Iverson might never be the same.

The time marched on in its continual dance. Minutes flowed smoothly into hours awaiting his arrival. The people of Iverson bustled about their lives as they had every other day. The cattlemen herded their stock through the wide streets at a leisurely pace on the way up towards Abilene. The stage rattled through town every three or four days bringing news of the outside world and interesting tid-bits for people to oooh and aaaw over. Travel weary faces alighted the coaches. Some, with kinfolk already in town were welcomed with exuberant arms. Others like Rachael Maguire and her four-year-old son Jake, weren't so lucky.

Rachael's journey had started with her husband Frank back in Boston. An adventurer to his toenails Frank had longed to see the new areas of the west that were opening up. And so, as soon as little Jake was old enough to travel comfortably with, Frank had packed up his family and belongings and said goodbye to the life they had known and headed west. Rachael had gone along with her husband, not out of a sense of duty, but because she had as much the pioneer spirit in her as he did. While her friends had tsked and tutted at the mere idea of a woman going into such a rugged and unknown area Rachael had looked at the trip with a keen eye and a cool head. There was no room for her to carve her own life back in Boston. She would have become another Bankers daughter. And the silly conventions of society would have strangled her. She wanted to know what it was like to see the world. Not just read about it. And so she and Frank had set out with their young son for the west.

All had gone well until one fateful day. They had stopped by a lovely little creek for the evening. Frank and gone out to collect enough wood to last them through to the morning. Rachael was singing a soft lullaby to Jake in rhythm to the sound of his Papa cutting wood. Part of her mind lingered with the soft 'thudding' of Franks axe against the tree when suddenly the calm serenity was shattered by the shrieking crack of splintering wood. Rachael thought nothing of this until she heard her husband's anguished cry. As fast as her feet would carry her Rachael rushed to the spot where Frank had been cutting the wood. There lying just to one side of the massive dead tree was her husband. He was unconscious, his leg pinned beneath one of the branches of the fallen log. Desperately, frantically Rachael clawed at the earth with her hands, trying to released Franks leg from the trees grip. Finally after many minutes of digging and watching her husband slip in and out of consciousness Rachael managed to pull him free. The leg was badly mangled and would need a doctor's attention soon. She knew that the nearest town was two days ride back the way they had came. And so, Rachael piled everything back into the wagon and made the agonizing journey back to Archers Gap praying silently to God that he would find a way to get her through this. Unfortunately, the Father had other plans for Frank Maguire and he slipped peacefully away in the arms of his wife three days later.

Rachael was now left with a decision. Did she return to her family in Boston, or plough on into the unknown, a widow with a young son in tow? After three month of grieving Rachael decided the die had been cast and so packed up her personal belongings, sold what ever was left and headed towards their original destination, Iverson. Now she and Jake were lodging at Mrs Jameson's hotel. The hotel was well kept, clean and neat as a pin. Marla Jameson was a friendly lady and a good host. Who, like Rachael, had lost her husband. The two women had a lot in common and had developed a close friendship in the short time they had known each other. Rachael assisted Marla with the upkeep of the premises and in return Marla let Rachael and Jake board free.

Andrew looked at his watch once more two-thirty. He had been there for more than four hours still without any word what his assignment was. This was highly unusual, he normally had some sort of idea what was going on by now. Maybe it was different as an Angel of Death. The young Angel sighed and watched as people still buzzed past him. Movement to his right caught his attention. Rachael was making her way down the street, calling greeting to those who knew her. Her basket was full, judging from the way the cover bulged out of the top.

"She's a good woman." A new voice said.

Startled Andrew spun around to see a man standing behind him. The stranger was slightly taller than Andrew. He had a strong jaw and gentle, sparkling eyes. He was dressed similarly to Andrew, but where as Andrews clothes were plain and functional, the newcomers was – well – more! His vest was more ornate his jacket and shirt more expensive. He looked a bit like the professional card players from Alabama.

The stranger smiled at Andrew's befuddlement. Andrew looked around to make sure the man was addressing him.

"I'm sorry are you talking to me?" Andrew asked finally.

"Yes I am." The stranger replied as he offered his hand. "My name is Adam. I am a friend of Tess and Sam's."

Recognition flared in Andrew's eyes as he recognised his brother for what he was.

"Oh I am sorry." He blurted. "I… umm… I've been here a while." Andrew said as way of an apology.

"That's ok. I know what it's like. You are Andrew right?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"This is only your second assignment as an Angel of Death?"

"Umm yes. And to be perfectly honest I'm not sure what I am doing!"

Adam laughed.

"Don't worry, it takes a little time. But you will know what to do when the time comes."

There was a rustle of skirts and the two men turned as Rachael passed between the two Angels.

"What was it you said about her?"

"Who Rachael? I just said she is a good woman. I had to bring her husband Frank home – oh about four months ago now." He nodded lost in the memory.

"Adam do you know why I am here?" Andrew asked scrunching up his face. "Are you here to help me?"

"Well not help exactly. I am here to watch you, I'm not going to be your supervisor, but it was thought best that you had someone experienced there if you need them."

"I appreciate this! I feel a bit out of place at the moment."

Andrew was about to ask Adam more about his assignment when a town dog started barking and ran towards the western end of the street. The sun was nowhere near set enough to completely obscure the silhouette of a rider on the outskirts of town, but it did create enough of a glare to be able to make out any distinguishing features of the man. People at that end of the town stopped dead in their tracks, as if the passing of the rider had stalled time for an instant. As his horse passed under the shadow of the buildings Andrew could make out the man's features. He was about forty years old. He was lean and yet well muscled. He rode with a confidence that only years in the saddle could buy. One gloved hand rested lazily on the horn of his saddle the other was raised to the brim of his hat. With feline like grace he tipped his hat to everyone who stopped to look at him. His overcoat moved slightly revealing the star of a Texas Ranger.

"That's John McBride." Adam said simply as the rider came towards them.

They stood in silence as McBride passed by. He looked directly at Andrew and tipped his hat to the young Angel. Andrews reply nod was automatic. Not willing to take his eyes of him for a moment Andrew heard Adam breath out heavily.

"Well, well, well. That's very interesting.

Still looking after McBride Andrew addressed Adam over his shoulder

"Adam, what's going on? I haven't revealed myself to anyone in this town, an yet he just looked right at me?"

"Yes and that is what makes this job so interesting!" Adam said lightly, placing his hand on Andrews shoulder. "I don't think you've come a moment too soon."

Somewhere deep inside himself, Andrew agreed wholeheartedly.

"He makes quite an impression doesn't he?" Adam said to Andrew as they walked up the street behind McBride.

"Well he has quite a reputation to live up to."

"Yes and it would be so much easier if…." Adam stopped mid sentence, looking north as if straining to see and hear something in the distance. He glanced briefly at Andrew. "I hate to do this to you Andrew, but I have been called to another assignment. There is a robbery that isn't going as planned, and I am needed." Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Adam. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. You wouldn't have been given this assignment if He wasn't sure you were the right person for it." Adam clapped Andrew on the back before disappearing as suddenly as he had arrived. Andrew drew in a deep breath and kept following John McBride down the street.

Every door McBride went past, people stuck their heads out to see this living legend. Children walked in slow mute reverence along side his bay mare. The hustle and bustle of the town street fell into the eerie silence of one lone horses hoof beats on the dirt. But silence was not a lengthy visitor. Andrew's attention was drawn to another event further up the street. From the back of the hotel a steady column of smoke was rising into the afternoon air. As his mind assimilated what his eyes were seeing, Andrew saw flames start licking the sky. The fire had reached the roof. The rest of the town, mesmerised by McBride's arrival, seemed not to have noticed the disaster. Only one other person had. And even as Andrew raised his human voice in alarm, John McBride spurred his mare into a gallop.

"Fire!" Andrew shouted. "Fire at the Hotel!"

The reaction was instantaneous. Men bellowed at each other to form a water chain. Mothers grabbed their children and hurried them away from danger. People ran screaming from the danger zone, while others ran screaming towards it. It only took Andrew a few moments to reach the door of the old hotel. Patrons were streaming out as fast as the open front door would let them. Andrew looked up and saw that the floor above the foyer ablaze. It wouldn't be long until the weakened timber would give way completely and the roof would cave in. Andrew stood there in silence waiting for what would come next. Around him men were frantically forming the water chain to start dousing the fire with. Once again the town folk of Iverson seemed to ignore the young Angels presence. There was nothing he could do, but wait. He knew that inside the hotel one scared young life was in the balance. Andrew slowly moved towards the hotel, waiting on the final call… when suddenly a blur of movement caught his eye. Andrew's heart leapt into his throat as he watched John McBride leap through the fire-blocked doorway into the heart of the hotel.

"McBride!" Denham bellowed uselessly after him. "NO!"

But it was too late McBride had disappeared from view.

Andrews's heart sank as he realised that he would now possibly have two assignments. Suddenly despite the din another voice, a female voice, cried out in anguish.

"JAKE! Oh God No please not Jake!"

Andrew turned to see Rachael Maguire running towards the burning building. Andrew stepped out in front of her and restrained her before she could get to the hotel.

"Let me go, lemmego, lemmego!" she wailed as she fought against Andrews firm grip. "My baby's in there!"

When she realised that struggling was getting her nowhere fast Rachael gave into her tears and wept in the arms of the Angel.

Rachael suddenly became a dead weight in Andrew's arms as she slowly sank to the ground in front of him. Raising her eyes skyward, Andrew stood silent witness to her prayer.

"Lord! Please don't do this. Please don't take my boy from me. He's only four. I love him so very much. He is all I have left, besides you. You have called Frank home. Please don't call Jake home too!"

Rachael's words tore at Andrew's spirit. He squatted down and placed his hand on Rachael's shoulder.

"Rachael." He said soothingly. "You son is in Gods hands now."

"No, no, no." She wept. "I don't want him in Gods hands. I want him in my arms!"

"No Rachael. No. You want him to be in Gods hands." Andrew insisted. "He's in the best possible place he can be."

As Andrew tried to calm the distraught mother down he noticed another woman walking towards them. Her once pristine cream dress was now sooty and blackened in places. Her hair was grimy and hung limply around her face. She looked old and tired.

"Rachael?" Marla Jameson said quietly.

Rachael looked up and saw her friend. Her eyes widened at the expression on Marla's face. Andrew felt Rachael tense under his hand. He knew it was taking every piece of Rachael's resolve not to breakdown completely.

"I tried to get to him Rachael. I really tired to get to him." Marla said, her voice catching. "But the flames were too great. He was playing in the back room with his toys. I could see him from the front desk."

Andrew could feel Rachael start to shake under his hand. She was fighting the fear so bravely. Andrew knew that his assignment would need to be fulfilled soon and he would have to leave Rachael. He gently took Rachael by the elbows and raised her to her feet.

"I must go now." He said to Marla. "Will you take care of her?"

Marla bit her lower lip and nodded through unshed tears. Andrew led the shaking Rachael across to her friend and let the older woman take her hand. Andrew smiled slightly and touched Marla's hand before moving off.

Andrew took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. He closed his eyes and let the grace of his creator flood over him like a gentle wave. He felt lighter, he felt clean, and he felt loved. Andrew moved silently in his celestial form through the crowd of shock onlookers. People moved out of his way without even realising they were.

The burning building loomed up in front of Andrew, its fiery façade gaping like some hellish hound snarling viciously at his approach. Andrew walked calmly up the now faltering stairs and in through the doorway. Flames licked around him in an intricate dance. He moved calmly through the chaos knowing that he was safe from the destruction around him. Moving towards the back of the hotel Andrew could hear a muffled cry from a room at the back. The cry, far too quiet for human ears did not escape the ears of the Angel. This is why he was here. This was the moment he had been sent for. As he passed under the main support arch, Andrew could see the stress lines starting to show. It would not be long before the roof would collapse.

Through the smoke and flames Andrew could make out Jakes figure huddled under a very large oak desk pushed against the wall. Terror filled his young eyes. The little boy was crawling back and forth like a caged animal desperately searching for a way out. Andrew frowned. This was not going to be easy. Why had he been chosen for this assignment? Was it a case of in for a penny? Death could be beautiful, but dying could be hideous. He had not considered that his first true assignment as an Angel of Death would be child.

"Who are you?" a mans voice suddenly rasped.

Turning around Andrew came face to face with John McBride. The Lawman's eyes were bloodshot from the smoke and his skin was a sooty grey. He had his bandana up to his mouth trying, without much success from the sound of his voice, to filter out the thick black smoke.

"I'm Andrew." The young angel replied simply.

"Well Andrew, get your behind out of here before you get burnt alive."

Shaking his blonde head Andrew replied.

"I'm sorry John I can't do that."

"Damn you man, I am the law around here and I'm tellin' you to get out now before I have you arrested!" McBride roared.

"John, you might be a representative of mans law, but that is not the law that matters here today."

A was a horrific creaking and suddenly the roof behind them dropped in perilously close to Andrew. The young Angel made no move to walk away from the now blocked escape route. The fire roared at his back, but none would touch him. John leapt backward, expectation and surprise flicking through his eyes. Looking down at the flames dancing around Andrew's feet, let the bandana drop from his face.

"What are you?" John breathed, his face ashen.

Andrew smiled gently as Gods light surrounded him.

"I am an Angel of God." He said plainly.

McBride closed his eyes and shook his head as if trying to clear it.

"You can't be an Angel of God." McBride blustered. "You were that young man standing by the undertakers a few minutes ago. I think you're having delusions of grandeur. Next thing you will be tellin' me you're the Angel of Death."

Andrew simply stood and looked at John.

As the roar of the flames increased around the two men, and Andrews stoic silence settled into John's mind, Andrew could see the conflict building being his eyes.

"You are the Angel of Death aren't you."

"Yes"

"And you've come for..?"

Andrew raised his eyes slightly. He still didn't know…. Until now. Turning away from John he moved towards the now limp form of Jake. The little boy had slipped into unconsciousness due to smoke inhalation. But before Andrew could take more than three steps John McBride leapt into the intervening space.

Flames licked up the walls on both sides of the Ranger, eager fiery red hands grappling to get a hold of John's coat.

"You're going to have to go through me to get to him." John spat.

"John if you don't move soon, I am going to have to escort both you AND Jake!" Andrew sighed.

John cast a quick glance over his shoulder to the small form under the desk.

"You mean you're not here for the boy?"

Andrew shook his head slowly.

"John, you've been a good and faithful servant of God now for nearly twenty years. And he wants you to come home now. You've lived a true life, both to yourself and God. And he wants me to tell you he is so very proud of you. He loves you and wants you to be with him, and the others he promised you would be with.

John swallowed hard

"Sarah, and the kids?"

"Waiting in his loving arms for you."

John's weary eyes shut and tear rolled down his cheeks, only to be evaporated by the heat.

"But there is one more thing he wants you to do."

Rachael stood staring blankly at the bank across the way from the hotel. She could not bear to look at the burning ruin of the hotel. And yet she could not bear to walk away from it either. Her prayer had not been answered. Her mind teetered on the brink of madness. First Frank, and now Jake. Marla stood beside her friend and wrapped her arms around Rachael's shoulders.

Suddenly the noise behind them stopped. The shouts of the men silenced. Only the roar of flame and the creaking of wood could be heard. And then….

"Momma!" a little voice cried. "Momma?"

Rachael dare not believe it. She dare not turn around. But she had to. Even before her body had fully turned she started running towards the fire. There stepping down from the smoky steps was her son.

"JAKE!" she screamed, her throat burning. She rushed in and swept the dirty little man up into her arms, squeezing him until he squeaked in protest.

The town folk of Iverson stood in silent amazement at the miracle that had just occurred. The boy appeared though everyone had seen the roof cave in. It was impossible. Neither McBride nor the child should have survived. Yet here he was. Sooty, coughing and very pale, but alive.

People started praying, some dropping to their knees. Praying for the miracle they had just witnessed. Praying for the soul of one Texas Ranger, John McBride.

The town folk of Iverson would never forget the name McBride and the sacrifice he made that day. And none of them ever saw the two figures watching the happy reunion from the doorway of the old hotel.

Tess finished the story and looked around the room. All twenty-two of her pupils still had their eyes closed. And from more than just a few silent tears trickled from the corners of those eyes.

It was Angela who first realised that Tess had stopped speaking. And spoke up her.

"Miss Tess? Was it Andrew or John who saved Jake?"

Tess looked at the clock on the wall. She had to wrap this up very quickly. The bell was about to go and the stampeding would start. She was about to answer when there was a polite knocking and the gardener stuck his head around the door. Tess ushered him in with a quick wave.

"This won't take long." She said. She turned back to the class. "So who do you think saved the little boy?"

"Andrew". Yelled half the class.

"John". Yelled the other half.

Tess's eyes sparkled. Why don't we ask Mr Gardener here? He might have an idea or two.

"Why should he know anything?" One of the boys muttered.

"Because everyone is entitled to an opinion. Besides he might know."

Twenty-three sets of eyes were now firmly fixed on the soil spattered Gardener.

"Well Angela," He said, his green eyes smiling. "Really it was God who saved young Jake Maguire. But it took a man like John McBride to help." He turned to Tess. "Do you want me to walk you to the car?" He asked offering out his arm.

"I'd love you to Angel-boy!" She replied. As she hooked her arm through his she turned back to class. "By the way, I forgot to introduce you to my friend. His name is Andrew."

The bell rang as the two Angels walked out of the dumbstruck room into the hallway and despite the chaos of final bell, the two of them walked off at a leisurely pace.

"Why did you tell them that story?" Andrew asked his supervisor.

"Because baby, it needed to be told." Tess replied. "And don't you think you are getting into MY car with those clothes on Mr Wings!"

The End.