Maggie's Christmas Miracle

by Elaine Manders

  The soft light played over her perplexed features. “If finding a dollhouse were my only goal, I wouldn’t be worried about my success.”

  A longing to touch her overwhelmed him, and he laid his hands on her shoulders. “Pray for me, Maggie. I am at a crossroads with the most important decision of my life looming, and for the first time I doubt my ability to accomplish my mission, but my failure or success will affect the happiness of those I love most.”

  Resting her hand on his arm, she favored him with that quivering smile he’d come to adore. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Daniel, but rest assured I’ll be praying.”

  She was so beautiful—more so because she didn’t realize it. No, her inner beauty showed through to the physical. “The scripture says perfect love casts out fear,” he said. “But the more I love, the more I fear, which means I’m far from perfect.”

  He slipped his hands to her upturned face and pressed his palms to her cheeks, tilting her head so they were staring into each other eyes. After a long moment, she closed hers, her long lashes fanning out over her cheeks. He leaned in and kissed her. A tasting at first, then deeply.

  Her arms went around him. As by mutual agreement, they clung to each other, sharing another kiss. Then another.

  Their foreheads touching, he said, “I have to go.”

  “I know,” she murmured, her soft breath caressing his face.

  Neither of them moved—for how long he couldn’t tell. Then with a groan, he lifted his head. “Good-night, Maggie.”

  He stepped onto the porch, and the cold air hit his hot face, bringing him back to reality.

  “Good-night, Daniel.” Her voice, low and husky, came from behind before the door closed.

  ***

  “Are we going to shop for more Christmas presents, Miss Maggie?” Izzy asked as Maggie tugged the child’s mittens on. Indeed, Maggie had to pick up some presents she’d already ordered and the food for tomorrow’s dinner.

  “You’ll see. We’ll have to go in the buggy today and it’s a little nippy out. You want to hold Belle’s reins while I get her hitched?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I can do that.”

  “Just let me get my coat and gloves.” Maggie returned to the bedroom. The shawl would feel so good around her neck on a day like this. But Myra would know where she got it, and she wasn’t ready to reveal that secret yet. Daniel had spoken of love last night, but not that he loved her.

  However, his mention that she’d be a good mother gave her heart a lurch of hope, and today that spark of hope had grown into euphoria. Surely that meant he would propose tonight or at the latest, tomorrow. He might even be giving her a ring. Didn’t he promise a surprise for her and Izzy?

  Her lips still pulsed from his kisses. She’d been so caught up in her feelings she’d not understood what he was talking about—that he feared he’d fail in the greatest decision of his life. That failure might ruin the happiness of those he loved.

  Did he refer to her? Yes, he must mean he feared she would say no. He had nothing to fear. If that’s what he meant. She didn’t know enough about Daniel to be able to read him…and probably shouldn’t be considering marriage to him so soon.

  Those thoughts kept playing through her mind all night, disturbing her sleep.

  But this morning as she got out of bed, she’d thrown off the doubts as easily as her quilts. Joy and excitement had her humming as she dressed first herself, then Izzy.

  It had snowed in the night. Not heavily. Not enough to hitch the sled, but enough to cover the ground and frost the shrubs, turning the drab landscape into a winter wonderland. She hoped the cold would keep it so at least through tomorrow.

  Myra was helping other customers when they entered the mercantile. Holding Izzy by the hand, Maggie made her way to the back corner. She had no desire to be questioned about the ranch party nor to explain how much longer she would be keeping Izzy. Or when she’d hear from the Westward Home and Hearts. She had gotten enough questions at church and hated having to almost lie to avoid exposing her true feelings.

  Izzy was getting bored with the farm implements surrounding them when the last costumer took her packages and left. Praying no one would interrupt, Maggie sidled around the tables to the counter.

  Myra startled. “Maggie, I didn’t see you and Izzy come in. I guess you’re here to pick up your order.”

  “I am. Is it ready?”

  “All of it. The mail-order catalogue items and your food supplies.” Myra pulled back the curtain separating the front of the store from the back storage area. “Sammy, come take Miss Maggie’s supplies out to her buggy.”

  A sandy haired, freckled-face boy appeared. He’d been one of her older students. “Are you enjoying school being out, Sammy?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Sammy grunted as he hefted the crate. “I get to sleep a little later.” He was a town boy and was allowed the luxury of sleeping in. Something farm children of any age couldn’t do. As she well knew.

  “You be careful with that, hon,” Myra said. “That crate has half a ham and a lot of canned goods, besides the cranberries and the other fruit and nuts.” She turned to Maggie. “You must be preparing a feast.”

  “We’re going to cook lots of things for Papa,” Izzy said.

  Myra lifted her brows as she dipped her chin. “Don’t know why all of y’all can’t just join us for Christmas at Sollano. You don’t have to do all that cooking.”

  “But I enjoy it. I rarely have guests and…” She lowered her voice, not wanting Izzy to hear. “They are leaving the day after tomorrow.” She brushed the curls off from Izzy’s forehead. “Sweetie, would you wait out at the buggy for me. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  “Yes, ma’am, Miss Maggie. I’m ready to go home.”

  Maggie smiled at Izzy’s reference to her house as home.

  Myra’s eyes softened with pity. She was a good friend and knew Maggie’s past heartaches. She probably saw this as another. The older woman reached out to pat Maggie’s arm. “I’ll be praying all goes well for you, hon. You deserve happiness.”

  Did she? Surely if she did, God would work things out for her good. But happiness? No one was guaranteed happiness in this world.

  “Did all the things I ordered come in from Montgomery Ward?”

  “I believe so, but you can check.”

  Maggie opened the large lid that contained the red velvet pinafore she’d ordered for Izzy and the tiny tin pots and pans that a little girl could both pretend cook and, with proper supervision, actually bake her own little cakes.

  At the bottom of the box rested the pen she’d ordered for Daniel. It was the best the mail-order company had and cost more than all of Izzy’s gifts together, although Maggie knew it couldn’t compare with what he probably already owned. She hoped he’d use it often and remember her.

  “Everything is here.” She took the package. “Merry Christmas, Myra. I’d better go and get started on my baking.”

  “Merry Christmas, dear.”

  With everything she needed to cook a Christmas dinner for a dozen people, Maggie drove her buggy home to find a freight wagon in her yard with what looked to be a fir tree sticking up behind the driver. “What in the world?”

  “Who is that?” Izzy asked.

  The uniformed man looked like a railway employee. Yes, the painted words on the side of the wagon proclaimed that to be who he was. “I don’t know. You stay put until I find out.” She set the brake and stepped down at the same time as the wagon’s driver did.

  He doffed his hat. “Morning ma’am. Are you Miss Comings?”

  “I am. What is this?” An idea began taking shape in her mind.

  “Delivery for you, ma’am. All the way from Wyoming. Where do you want me to put it?”

  This was Daniel’s surprise. Not a ring.

  “It’s a Christmas tree, Miss Maggie.” Izzy was standing on the buggy seat, clapping her hands, and threating to jump.

  “Just a minute and I’ll show yo
u.” After getting Izzy safely on the ground, she motioned for the deliveryman to follow her. As he grunted with the effort to get the tree from the wagon bed, she noticed it was planted in a red pail, obviously heavy with soil.

  She threw the door wide open. “Put it over there by the window.” It wasn’t very tall, perhaps six feet, but beautifully full and shaped.

  The deliveryman set it where she pointed and stretched. “I’ll get the box for you.”

  There was more? Standing beside her, Izzy stared with wide eyes until the man returned with a large wooden box. “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Don’t know, ma’am, but it was marked fragile.” He fished in his coat and pulled out a piece of paper, then handed Maggie the paper and a pencil. “If I could get you to sign the receipt.”

  She signed and returned the receipt to him. He lifted his hat. “Merry Christmas ma’am. Looks like you and the little miss are going to be decorating a tree. Better soak the soil with water until you plant it.”

  “Yes, of course. Merry Christmas.” As he stepped through the door, she ran after him. “Sir, would you mind bringing that crate from my buggy? It’s too heavy for me to bring in with one trip.”

  “Be glad to, ma’am.”

  The helpful deliveryman set the crate on the kitchen table and nodded to her on his way out. She handed him the last coin from her reticule, hoping it was a decent tip.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Maggie closed the door after him. “Izzy, I’ll have to take care of the horse, but you can put the canned things and the fruit from the crate and store them in that white cabinet. Can you do that?”

  “What’s in here?” Izzy was fascinated by the wooden box. Actually, Maggie was too.

  But duty first. “I’ll open it when I get back, sweetie.”

  She settled the horse in the corral and hurried to the house, then got a fire burning in the parlor. Thumps and bangs floated in from the kitchen. She found Izzy tossing apples, one by one, into the pantry. Stifling a laugh, she said, “That’s good, sweetie, come on now and let’s see what’s in that box.”

  Fetching a small crowbar from her tool drawer, she joined Izzy down on the floor by the wooden box. The lid came off easily, and both of them stared at the contents.

  “Newspapers?” Izzy reached in to lift one of the round things wrapped in newspaper.

  “Careful,” Maggie warned, but Izzy had already discarded the paper, revealing a shiny glass globe, stripes of glitter coating it.

  “Oh, Miss Maggie. Look how pretty. It has a string to tie on the tree.”

  Indeed, that’s what the box contained. Glass globes to hang on the tree. She and Izzy dove into the box, uncovering more, oohing and ahhing with each one. Some were half globes with little scenes inset within them, others were made of tin, painted in silver and gold.

  “What are the little balls, Miss Maggie?” Izzy pulled out a long rope made of red pellets, probably of lead since the roping was rather heavy.

  “It’s made to look like cranberries, I think. I intended to string popcorn for roping but this is much nicer.” Using the box to give her support, Maggie got to her feet. “Here, you hold one end, and I’ll go around the tree to drape it from the bottom to the top.”

  When she finished, they stood back to admire the tree.

  “Let’s hang the globes,” Izzy said.

  Afraid the tree’s branches might prick Izzy, Maggie took the first one from the little girl’s hand. “Why don’t you hand them to me and I’ll hang them.”

  She was stretching to hang one of the decorations at the top branch when she heard Izzy’s intake of breath. “Ooh, Miss Maggie. It’s beautiful.” She wasn’t looking at the tree, but inside the box.

  At the bottom was a china doll angel with white satin gown and diaphanous wings. “Oh my, Izzy, she looks like you did in the play.”

  “Where will she go?”

  “At the top. Let me get the step stool and I’ll put her in place.”

  In position, the angel sat atop the decorated tree, beckoning with her hands, and they stood staring for long moments until Izzy broke the silence. “Our tree’s not as big as the one at Lilly’s house, but it’s prettier, I think.”

  “I do too.” A good thing it wasn’t as big as the one at the Belters or it wouldn’t have fit in Maggie’s small parlor. “Now we need to gather up all this paper and clear the floor.”

  “I can do that.” The little girl began the task, but Maggie couldn’t pull her gaze from the beautiful tree.

  Suddenly, tears caught in her throat, and being unable to stop them, she felt them flood her eyes and spill down her face as she sobbed audibly.

  The girl was at her side in a moment, and Maggie dropped down beside her.

  Izzy’s little hands wrapped around her neck. “Why are you crying, Miss Maggie? Did you hurt yourself.” Her fingers rubbed the back of Maggie’s neck in tender strokes.

  “No, sweetie. It’s just my heart is so full of joy it feels about to burst. I just realized this is the first Christmas tree I’ve ever had.” She sniffed and laughed. “I’m all right.”

  Izzy pulled back, sadness drooping her eyes. “You never had a Christmas tree? Not even when you were a little girl?”

  “No.” Especially not then.

  Izzy leaned in to kiss Maggie’s wet cheek. “Don’t cry anymore. Papa will send you a Christmas tree every year.”

  This released another gush of tears. Maggie didn’t know if it was because of the child’s infinite faith in her father or what, but she had to get ahold of herself. She was about to make Izzy cry. Burying her face in the child’s hair, she breathed in the innocent little girl smell. Oh, how she was going to miss this little one if she were mistaken about her father’s feelings.

  She lifted her head and hugged the child to her. “Izzy, you’re about the sweetest little thing I’ve ever known.” She scrambled to her feet. “But look at the time. We’d better get to baking, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Let’s do that.”

  Izzy skipped along beside her into the kitchen, now warmed by the stove she’d fired up earlier. Her heart had been warmed by another source.

  Chapter 16

  Daniel reined in the roan mare pulling Mr. Amerson’s wagon into the yard. He sent a longing look to the lights glowing from every window of Maggie’s house. Over these past weeks, he’d grown fond of that sight, but he knew it wasn’t the house that drew him. Rather, the woman and child it held.

  He had to unload the items he’d bought in Lincoln, then take care of the horse. Snow had started just outside the city and gathered strength, coming down hard by the time the train reached Westerfield.

  Road weary but eager to see his ladies, he climbed the steps of Maggie’s porch. He heard the tapping of little feet before he opened the front door. Izzy plowed into him. “Look, Papa, look.” She tugged him by the hand, pointing to the tree he’d ordered from Wyoming. It was small as fir trees went, the top angel at his eye level.

  “I see, sweetheart. You and Miss Maggie did a good job of decorating.”

  “Miss Maggie cried, Papa.”

  “What? Why?”

  “She said it’s the first Christmas tree she’s ever had. She said she was happy, but it made me sad.”

  Made him sad, too. The delightful smells of holiday cooking—ham, spices, baked goods—pulled him to the kitchen. Maggie, with her back to him, stirred something on the stove. She looked over her shoulder as he came up from behind.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Very.” He glanced at the table laden with ham, cakes, pies, and a couple of dishes covered with towels. “We aren’t going to starve for at least a month.”

  She laughed, playfully swatting his arm with another dishcloth. “I told you I like to cook.”

  “And we love your cooking, don’t we, Izzy?”

  “Yes, sir. Better than our cook back at our other house.”

  “Looks like she’s adopted me.�
�� Maggie laughed again as she pulled a chair out from the table. “Sit over here and I’ll set the table.”

  “Can I help?” he asked.

  “No, you must be tired from your travels.”

  Actually, all he’d done was sit most of the day, albeit on a train, but he sank onto the chair as she suggested.

  Izzy’s eyes suddenly widened, and she propped her hands on his knees. “Papa, tomorrow is Christmas Day.” A worried frown clouded her face. “You’re not going to go on a trip tomorrow, are you?”

  He set her on his knees and bounced her as he had when she was a toddler. “No, I promise I’m going to spend the whole day with you and Miss Maggie. In fact, I think after we’ve seen what Santa Claus brought you and exchanged gifts, we’ll go sledding.”

  “Sledding?” Maggie whirled around from the stove. “There isn’t enough snow on the ground.”

  “There is now, and it’s still snowing.”

  “It is.” She crossed over to the window and drew the curtains. “Oh, Izzy, it is.” She returned to dishing up the potatoes. “Not one flake fell while we were in town, but we’ve been too busy decorating and cooking to check outside this afternoon.”

  “Did you like the tree?”

  Another smile bloomed on her flushed face. “I love the tree. Do you think Izzy and I did justice to those beautiful globes?”

  “Definitely. The tree is beautiful—and so are you.”

  The color on her cheeks deepened. “Thank you for the tree and for the compliment, as exaggerated as it is.” She gestured to the table in jerky motions. “Everything is ready. Let’s eat.”

  They sat down to the delicious meal of ham, vegetables, fresh bread, and desserts. He clasped Izzy’s small hand on one side and Maggie’s on the other and prayed.

  “Lord, we thank You for the bounty of the table and the joy of this time together. We thank You for the gift of salvation through Your Son, Whose birth we celebrate on this night. Help us to carry the love we feel for You and each other throughout the new year.”