Maggie's Christmas Miracle

by Elaine Manders

  He didn’t wait for Maggie to respond, but flicked the reins and urged the horse over to her house, stopping right in front of her porch. She scrambled from the buggy before he had a chance to help her alight, almost like she tried to escape.

  Maybe he’d pushed her too far. But he’d have to let the Belters know if Maggie was accompanying him and Izzy. If she would.

  She opened her door and slipped inside, then turned and waved before closing it. “Good-night, Mr. Raleigh. I’ll be up early in the morning when you drop Izzy off.”

  He had some hope she’d accept.

  Chapter 7

  Izzy was crying when Daniel arrived at Maggie’s door the next morning. Only the barest traces of dawn appeared in the sky, but Maggie had been up for half an hour, long enough for her to get the house warm and the coffee perking.

  He tried to hand the weeping child over to her on the threshold, but she invited him in, noting that Izzy was still in her nightgown. “Please, you can surely take time for a cup of coffee. What’s wrong with Izzy?”

  Izzy answered for him. She lifted her head from his shoulder. “Papa’s going away for all day and night.” Sobbing louder, she gripped his neck with both arms like she didn’t intend for him to leave without her. “I don’t want you to leave me, Papa.”

  Sympathy welled in Maggie for Daniel. How hard it must be for him to leave his daughter like this. And how many times had this scene played out since his wife died.

  Daniel followed her to the kitchen, pulled out a chair, and managed to disengage Izzy hands as he sat. Maggie poured a cup of coffee for him and herself. She whirled around like a nervous ninny, which she was, and set the creamer and sugar bowl on the table.

  “Let me warm some milk for Izzy. She needs to go back to bed to finish her sleep.”

  Izzy shook her head violently. “No, Papa will be gone.”

  Maggie paid no attention to her protests, clanging the pots until she found a small one to warm the milk. After setting it on the warming space, she returned to the table and bent over Izzy. “Your papa will return as he always does, and I have some marvelous things for us to do today. We don’t have school, so I thought we’d go to the big library and choose some new books for your papa to read to you. Maybe we can find some about Christmas. Would you like that?”

  Izzy forgot to sob. Her teary gaze met Maggie’s. “Yes ma’am. Could we find some picture books too?”

  “Definitely, there are lots of picture books to choose from.” She straightened and backed away toward the stove. After filling a mug with the warm milk, she spooned a couple of spoonsful of sugar and stirred. Then held it with the handle pointed toward Izzy.

  The child took it reluctantly and, while Daniel secured it on the bottom, tasted the milk. “It’s good. I like it sweet.”

  “I do too,” Maggie said. “Sometimes I sprinkle in some cinnamon like I put in eggnog. Do you like eggnog?”

  She shrugged and sent a sidelong glance to her father. “I doubt she’s ever tasted eggnog,” Daniel said.

  “Then that’s a treat we’ll have to make for supper. And I’m thinking, since your papa won’t be around, it will be a good time for you to shop for his Christmas present.”

  Izzy’s mouth formed a perfect “o” and she straightened on Daniel’s lap. “I like to look for Christmas presents.” She giggled, her mood shifting from gloomy to giddy in a flash. “I like to get presents too.”

  Maggie laughed, pinning Daniel with a knowing glance over the rim of her cup. “Who doesn’t?”

  He set Izzy on her stool and, with his hands freed, drank his coffee until he drained the cup and set it on the table. “I must be going or I’ll miss my train.” He fell to his haunches beside Izzy. “You and Miss Maggie will have fun today, and I’ll be back to take you both to church tomorrow.”

  Izzy reached her little hands to his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Papa, so be very careful, and I’m going to find you the best present ever.”

  He hugged her. “Love you too, sweetheart.” His voice turned husky, and when he stood, he glanced to Maggie. She caught him blinking away the moisture in his eyes, making water well in hers. These partings were more painful to him than Izzy.

  She would have given anything for just one moment of such tenderness from her own father. At that moment she decided she’d have to go with them to the Christmas ball, regardless of how it appeared.

  He retrieved an envelope from his inside coat pocket and passed it to Maggie. “I keep forgetting to give you this, but you’ll need it if you take Izzy shopping. I left the door to our house unlocked. You’ll find Izzy’s clothes in the wardrobe.” His voice still choked with emotion, and he cleared his throat. “Have you made your decision, Maggie?”

  She nodded and led the way to the front door where she stopped for him to open it. “I’ve decided if you think it will give you favor with your prospective employer, I’ll accompany you and Izzy to the Belters…and…if it’s your wish, I’ll go as…a friend of the family.”

  With his hand on the knob, his shoulders fell like he’d been holding his breath. “Thank you. It means more than you know.” Then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

  She pressed her palm against the door’s panel. God speed, Daniel.

  Returning to the kitchen, Maggie found Izzy with her head lying on the table, her milk hardly touched. When she started to lift the child, Izzy said sleepily, “When are we going to the library, Miss Maggie?”

  “When it opens, which won’t be for four hours.” She carried Izzy to her bed and tucked her under the covers along with the painted cloth doll the little girl dragged with her everywhere.

  “Will you read to me? Papa always reads to me, but I fell asleep too fast last night.”

  “Why don’t we wait until we’ve selected a book from the library, and I promise to read to you next bedtime.” The child poked her bottom lip out, and Maggie added, “I could sing to you, though.”

  Izzy’s big doe-colored eyes popped open. “Ooh, Mama used to sing to me, but Papa says he can’t sing, so he just reads. Sing to me and Daisy, Miss Maggie.” she said, propping the doll up on the pillow.

  “All right.” Maggie cleared her throat. She wasn’t the best singer in the world either. “Lullaby and good-night—”

  Izzy interrupted. “That’s a baby song.”

  “What did your mama sing then?”

  “Jesus Love Me.”

  Maggie smiled. “That is a better one. Close your eyes now and I’ll sing, not as well as your mama, I’m sure, but I’ll do my best.” In a soft tone, she began.

  “Jesus love me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong. They are weak, but He is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus love me…”

  Izzy had closed her eyes before Maggie finished the refrain. She leaned over and, brushing the curls from the child’s forehead, pressed a kiss to her brow. “Good-night, sweet one.”

  Without opening her eyes, Izzy wrapped an arm around Maggie’s neck. “I love you, Miss Maggie.”

  Her soft, sleepy voice melted Maggie’s heart. “I love you, too, sweetie.”

  She did her housekeeping while Izzy slept, then went over to the Amersons’s house to get the little girl’s clothes for the day. She had breakfast ready by the time her charge awoke.

  At ten o’clock they made their way toward the Western Gates, a combination library, enclosed theater, and amphitheater where rodeos and Wild West shows were held during the summer. The huge structure looked out of place in this small town. It had once been a saloon, but Carianne Cason had ordered it bricked in and built out in back to cover the entire block.

  The Casons had gifted the edifice to the town and the many passengers who passed though on the Transcontinental Railroad. Even in the off season, the library saw a steady flow of patrons.

  The Western Gates Exposition and Culture Center library took up almost half of the large building, and its soaring glass windows revealed three stories
of book shelves. Holding firmly to Izzy’s mitten-clad hand, Maggie entered the front. Warmth blanketed them, and she immediately began the task of removing Izzy’s coat, scarf, and mittens.

  A woman’s laughter made her look up. Juliette Gresham stood there, arms crossed on a blooming waistline. “Were you expecting a blizzard, Maggie?”

  “While Izzy is in my charge, I want to make sure she’s warm enough.” She straightened and removed her own coat. “Just wait until you have your little one to care for.”

  “You forget I’ve had little ones to care for before. My brothers and sister. And I was a teacher also for a while.”

  “Hello, Miss Maggie, can Izzy come up?” Sally Winston, a seven-year-old from school called from her perch at the top of the children’s readers’ nook.

  “May Izzy come up?” Maggie corrected. The staircase was narrow and zig-zagged along the wall, but the risers were short and the steps wide, made so with children in mind. She deemed it safe to let Izzy ascend unassisted. “Yes, go ahead, dear. There are lots of picture books up there. Sally will help you find some.”

  Sally and two other girls had already befriended Izzy at school, though she was younger. Maggie welcomed the lonely little girl’s chance to interact with other children without adult interference.

  “What do you suggest for some books about Christmas? Izzy wants a story before bedtime.” Maggie strode to the Christmas shelf display as she spoke. She picked up a copy of A Christmas Carol.

  “I think that might be too advanced for Izzy,” Juliette said.

  Maggie laughed. “Yes, I know, but I thought Mr. Raleigh might enjoy it.” She’d already read the book twice, but it was the type of story to be reread every year.

  “I believe he would. Jake likes it, but we’re saving it until Christmas Eve.” Juliette ran a hand along the children’s Christmas titles. “Of course, you’d know more about Mr. Raleigh’s tastes than I.”

  Mr. Raleigh and Maggie had never discussed books, but her instincts told her this was the type of story he’d like.

  “How about these for Izzy?” Juliette handed her two books with brightly colored covers, one of children dancing around a Christmas tree, entitled, How the Tree got Its Star, and the other, the well-known The Night before Christmas.

  She set them on the counter. “Yes, I’ll check them until after Christmas, along with whatever picture books Izzy finds.”

  Juliette opened her inkpad. “Are you going to stay for the puppet show? I’m sure Izzy will enjoy it.”

  Maggie pressed her palms to her cheeks. “Oh, I’d forgotten all about that being today. I don’t know where my mind has been.” Yes, she did. It had been stayed on Mr. Raleigh and Izzy. “Have the players arrived?” The Western Gates had hired a troop of puppeteers to perform for the children.

  “They have. They’re in the theater getting set up now. The children and their parents will be arriving soon.”

  This was the theater where the children would be performing their play, so it was good for Izzy to become familiar with the place.

  She glanced upward where Izzy was engaged with the small group of little girls, whispers and giggles floating through the air. Several older boys sat around the table, talking low as they’d been taught to behave in the library, and apparently waiting for the show to begin. “Juliette, will you do me a favor? Will you watch Izzy for me during the play? I promised to take her shopping, but there’re some things I need to purchase I’d prefer she not see.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. You buying her gifts?”

  “No, not specifically. I’m going to prepare a bag for all of the children to give out after the Christmas play Friday. It’s just an apple, orange, walnuts, and some pieces of candy. I think she could keep a secret, but I’d like for her to be as surprised as the other children.” She winked. “And don’t say anything to Annie and the boys, because I want it to surprise them, too.”

  Juliette put two fingers to her lips indicating her agreement to silence.

  Maggie climbed the stairwell.

  “Hello, Miss Maggie,” one of the boys said as she passed them.

  “Hello, boys. Are you waiting for the puppet show?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.

  “Can I see the puppets, Miss Maggie?” Izzy asked, playing right into Maggie’s plans.

  “Yes, dear, but I’m going to run an errand, and I want you to stay with the other children while I’m gone. Mrs. Gresham will be in charge.”

  That familiar look of disapproval crossed Izzy’s face, and Maggie stroked her puffed cheeks. “It will be all right. I won’t be long, I promise, and Sally and Trudy will stay right with you.”

  Both girls bobbed their heads. “It’s all right, Izzy. Mrs. Gresham won’t let the boys bother us at all.”

  “Are you going very far?” Izzy asked.

  Poor little thing. She still feared being left alone. “Just down the street, and after the puppet show, we’ll go to the drug store. They have a soda fountain so we’ll have a cherry soda.”

  Maggie slipped away as Sally and Trudy were telling Izzy about the ice cream parlor in the Western Gates, which was, unfortunately, closed at the moment.

  Taking advantage of the moment, she slipped away and hustled down the street.

  The little bell jingled as she entered the mercantile. At the back counter, Myra, the store owner and Rachel Hadley, looked up. “Hey, Maggie, good to see you.”

  Maggie sidestepped a display table to join them. The table always stood right smack dab in the middle of the aisle and held samples of new items from egg beaters, china, and knick-knacks to hunting knives, belt buckles, mirrors, and embroidery hoops.

  “How’s the play coming?” Rachel asked.

  “I know Becky has told you about her part as the innkeeper’s wife. We’re all excited to be performing on the big stage, and the play is coming along beautifully. Thank you and the rest of the ladies in the sewing circle for helping with the costumes.”

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Myra said. “They brought the gift sacks you asked for.” She ducked into the back behind the curtained section. The sewing circle was making little bags out of gunny material for Maggie to sack up the Christmas gifts for the children.

  Myra came back with both hands full of the twenty-one sacks, dumped them on the counter, and held one up. “You think these are big enough?”

  “Oh yes, they’ll only need to hold an orange, and apple, the nuts and candy.”

  “The walnuts came in, and we have enough candy in store,” Myra said. “The oranges and apples will be in by Tuesday. You ordered a crate of each.”

  Maggie nodded, and Rachel said, “I need a crate of oranges, Myra. I have plenty of apples to last all winter.”

  “I always order extra oranges in December.” She jotted something on her notepad. “I saved back the red ribbon you wanted, Maggie.”

  “Oh, thank you. You know, I’m thinking of adding a toy or something as a surprise gift for the children. After all, this will be my last Christmas with them. I want them to have a little something to remember me by.”

  “I know the children will be bringing you a parting gift, but Maggie, that’s going to cost you a lot.”

  “Yes, I know, but Mr. Raleigh gave me the pay for keeping Izzy, so I have extra money.” And a great deal more. Myra’s and Rachel’s jaws would drop if they knew how much. “What do you think of pocket knives for the older boys and hand mirrors for the older girls? Maybe paper dolls for the little girls and marbles for the little boys.”

  “They’d be surprised and delighted,” Rachel said. “How much longer are you going to be taking care of Izzy?”

  “Just until December the twenty-sixth. Mr. Raleigh has to be back to his business in Boston by January.” She suddenly realized that was only two weeks away. It would be hard enough to say good-bye to her class, but the thought of parting with Izzy and her father fell like a stone in her middle.

  “Dorcas says you’ve had supper with M
r. Raleigh several times lately.”

  Maggie bit the inside of her mouth. If only Dorcas knew she’d had supper with Mr. Raleigh every night except last night, mostly at her house. “Yes, I think we feel sorry for each other. He lost his wife last summer, so we’re both grieving.”

  Myra and Rachel exchanged glances. “Are you still waiting for a mail-order husband?” Myra asked.

  Oh, no. If those two started scheming they’d hound Mr. Raleigh until he left town. And what if they found out she was going with him to a Christmas ball in South Dakota? “My order with the matrimonial agency has been delayed a bit is all. And don’t suggest Mr. Raleigh. Dorcas has already intimated that I should pursue him.”

  “Normally, I don’t agree with Dorcas about anything, but in this case, she has a point. Mr. Raleigh is a well-to-do businessman with a little girl who needs a mother. How do you know he isn’t looking at you as a prospect?” Rachel’s sly grin made Maggie cringe.

  Her laugh came out strained. “I hardly think Mr. Raleigh would have come all the way to Westerfield, Nebraska, to hunt a wife. He has a social circle that must include a good many women who would be better prospects than the likes of me.”

  “You sell yourself short, Maggie. You always have. The man is obviously interested in you or he wouldn’t be taking you out to dine.”

  “He’s lonely, and I’m the only available woman out here, besides I’m taking care of his daughter. Naturally, he wants to know how things are going with her.”

  “Are you sure Izzy is the only reason for his interest in you?” Myra asked.

  “Loneliness isn’t the worst reason for a man to spend time with a woman,” Rachel added.

  Maggie drew in a deep breath. She’d known these two since she was a little girl. They could see through her, and maybe she could trust them. She certainly needed some womanly advice. She gave one, and then the other, a worried look.

  Myra grasped her arm. “What is it, Maggie? You can tell us. We don’t gossip like Dorcas.”