The food tasted better than Daniel could ever remember, every savory bite gave evidence of the love put into the meal. His glance kept drifting to Maggie, and she offered him a shy smile each time. There was no need to compliment her cooking. Praise made her uncomfortable, and the sentiment was best communicated without words.
Excitement kept Izzy chattering like an agitated chipmunk, and he couldn’t help thinking he and Maggie used that as a cover to keep quiet, but there was an understanding between them that there would be a great deal to say later when they were alone.
Izzy finally talked out, and Maggie said, “Where do you plan to go sledding? The best place is the hill Rhyan’s grandfather built up from the excavated dirt of the cow pond. It’s the steepest hill around here, and there’s a little shack next to it where they keep sleds and ice skates.” She looked off into space. “I remember going there often as a girl. We won’t need the skates because it hasn’t gotten cold enough to freeze the pond yet.”
Her soft gaze found his. “It’s not far.”
“I know. Mr. Cason showed me when I was visiting the ranch. He also showed me the beach and picnic area, the golf course, the baseball field, and the racetrack. I’m going to try to convince Mr. Belter to build some amusements for the town and farm workers.”
“My father said it was foolish for grown men to waste their time playing with a ball. Or pay good money to the concert hall to listen to people bellow.”
He smiled, not at all surprised from what he’d heard about her father. “Is that your opinion?”
“No, but I differed with my father in everything.” Her jaw clenched so fast he wouldn’t have seen it if he hadn’t been watching so intently.
“Papa, my eyes are sleepy.” Izzy laid her fork down before finishing her cake.
“All right, jump down and let me unbutton her dress. You can get ready for bed by herself, can’t you?”
“Oh, yes, I can get the clothes off, but I have trouble getting them on right.”
Maggie snickered. “A lot of us ladies have a problem with that.”
When he released her, Izzy darted off. “I’ll be in to hear your prayers in a little bit,” he called to her. “As soon as I help Miss Maggie wash dishes.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, already scraping their plates. “There isn’t much to do. I wash dishes as I cook, so there’s just what we used left. Go ahead and take care of Izzy.”
“All right. I assumed you didn’t mind her sleeping here tonight, but maybe it would be best for me to put her to bed at the other house, then bring her Christmas presents over here before she awakes. Otherwise, I don’t know how I’m going to sneak them past her.”
Maggie tilted her head back, her brows puckered as she pondered that dilemma. “I know. I’ll be in the kitchen setting out breakfast at seven. Just tap on the kitchen window when you get ready to bring the dollhouse and…whatever…over. You can slip in easily. I’ll make sure the door is unlocked and keep Izzy in the kitchen with me until you join us.”
The way she fell in with conspiring to surprise his child warmed him clear through to the marrow. “Very well. Then if you don’t need my help, I’ll see if I can get her settled down. She’s bubbling over with excitement.”
Maggie waved him out and, after hearing Izzy’s prayers, he read her The Night Before Christmas and the account of Christ’s birth from Luke.
By the time Izzy offered him an escape by falling asleep, he found Maggie already finished in the kitchen and sitting in the armchair by the fire. She held some sewing in her lap, and a little smile played over her mouth like she, as well as Izzy, was too excited to hold a somber face.
She’d placed a lamp on either side of the Christmas tree, and the light from them, along with the flickering firelight in the hearth reflected on the glass globes hanging on the tree. His gaze traveled from Maggie to the tree and back to Maggie, unable to decide which was more lovely. All he knew for certain was he’d love to see her in his own parlor every night for the rest of his life.
He cleared his throat to force the lump down and keep from startling her.
Her smile hitched as she raised her head. “Did you manage to calm Izzy enough for her to fall asleep?”
“Yes, finally.”
“Can I get you a cup of coffee and another piece of pie?”
“No, I’ve already had to let out my belt a notch. The supper was wonderful, as was the company.”
She laid her needlework aside. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She reached for the book lying on the table beside her chair.
“I’d better go on tonight. We’ll finish Mr. Scrooge tomorrow. I’ve had a long day.” No man in his position would have offered such a lame excuse.
But she accepted it. “Well, if you’re sure.” The tone of regret in her voice said more than the words. She didn’t know what a temptation she was.
He snagged his coat from the wall peg and slipped into it, although he was warm enough to get him the short distance to the Amerson house without it.
Opening the door, he heard her behind him. If a magnet could feel the iron it attracted, it would feel as he did. She looked over his shoulder. “It’s still snowing.”
Leaving the door open, he turned. They stared into each other’s eyes as the clock ticked off the seconds. Or was it minutes?
He’d have been stupid not to see she cared for him. The ardor was plain in her sultry gaze. Now was the time he should tell her all she meant to him. Fairness demanded he declare his intentions, but that would require him to tell her everything from the beginning. He didn’t want to spoil Christmas Day for Izzy—in case it didn’t work out as he hoped.
He didn’t want to spoil it for any of them.
She broke the silence. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me. It’s been more of a pleasure to take care of Izzy than a job. And you’ve paid me ten times over what it was worth besides. I don’t know why you sought me out, or been so generous, but I thank you for everything.”
“You don’t know, even now?”
“No, tell me.”
“I’ve been trying to convince you to believe you deserve being loved.”
He didn’t know if it was she who pressed her lips to his, or if he pressed his to hers, but he allowed himself to melt into her. The kiss lingered until he wanted to make her his.
With a strangled moan, he called on a strength from the deepest reaches of his soul and pulled back. “Good-night, Maggie. Sleep well.”
Chapter 17
Why didn’t Santa Claus leave me something under the Christmas tree, Miss Maggie?
Busy preparing an omelet for Daniel’s breakfast, Maggie expected the question and had a ready answer. “Because Santa Claus would tell your papa to put your presents out, remember?”
“Oh, yes, I forgot. Papa has them over at his house. I’ll go see.”
Maggie dashed from the stove just in time to catch the hem of Izzy’s dress. “Oh, no you don’t. Your papa will be over in a few minutes. We’ll all have breakfast, then we’ll see what we got for Christmas.” She knew he was coming because he’d tapped on the window as they had arranged.
She plopped Izzy back in her chair. “You can go ahead and eat your oatmeal and eggs now if you like, that way you’ll be ready to check the Christmas tree when your papa comes in.” She finished dishing out the omelet, setting the plate in the oven to keep warm. It was overdone, so she’d give Daniel the second one.
But Daniel entered the kitchen before she’d finished.
“Papa.” Izzy dropped her spoon with a clatter and would have jumped down, but then she glanced at Maggie.
Maggie had to admire the girl’s self-control as she remained seated and spooned heaping amounts in her mouth like a starving child in her urgency to clean her plate.
“Merry Christmas, ladies.” Daniel stooped to kiss the top of Izzy’s head still bent over her bowl.
“Merry Christmas to you,” Maggie said. “I’ll pour your coffe
e. Your breakfast will be finished in a minute.”
“Papa, did Santa Claus leave our presents at your house?” It was hard to make out Izzy’s words, her mouth being full of oatmeal. She swallowed with an audible gulp. “I’ve finished my oatmeal, Miss Maggie, may I be excused now?”
Daniel laughed. It was clear he didn’t intend to hold Izzy back. “Very well,” Maggie said. “We’ll all go see.”
Before Maggie had her apron off, squeals and clapping came from the parlor. Izzy poked her head through the door. “Come see, Papa. Come see, Miss Maggie.”
The space around the tree was crowded with dollhouse, doll carriage, a new doll, tea set, and a few other smaller toys. Maggie gave Daniel a stern glance. “You don’t spoil her, huh?”
He draped an arm around her shoulder. “Oh, Maggie, permit me this one day to enjoy the magic of Christmas through her eyes. Besides, I will never be able to please her as much as at this age.”
Maggie, too, had never experienced a more joyous Christmas than that day. They opened gifts, and she and Daniel enjoyed a leisurely breakfast while Izzy played with her new toys. She kept running back and forth from the parlor to the kitchen to show them each thing, one at the time, then all over again.
Daniel’s gift from Maggie would wait until they were alone. She still held out hope for a ring, and the wall hanging he’d given her had taken a place of honor in the parlor. Angels held the corners of golden ribbons at the top, showcasing the message, God Bless Our Happy Home.
Maybe she read too much into that, but hope surged that it spoke of a home shared.
After breakfast, Daniel had to get down on the floor and attach the doll carriage’s wheels, since it had come with axels and wheels in a separate box. While he did that, Maggie handed Izzy the tiny furniture for her dollhouse so the little girl could arrange the pieces as she pleased.
When Izzy finally quieted of her endless questions and exclamations, Daniel took the armchair on the other side of the fireplace and read the rest of A Christmas Carol, more to Maggie than his daughter, since she showed little interest in the story.
The morning passed quickly, and Maggie returned to the kitchen to set out their lunch. After the meal, they bundled up and entered a world transformed from grays and browns to pristine white. Daniel had the horse harnessed to a sleigh, and off they went to the countryside.
With their breath clouding the air, they sang Jingle Bells all the way across the river to the sledding shack. their own sleigh bells jingling, providing the background music. Daniel and Izzy fell silent, leaving Maggie to carry the stanzas, with all of them joining in with the refrain.
“Did you know Jingle Bells was recorded on Edison’s wax cylinder this year?” Daniel asked.
She wasn’t surprised that he kept up with all the new inventions that dominated the latter half of this century, including the gadget that allowed one to listen to recorded music. “No, but Carianne put in cylinders at the Western Gates and people can listen to the selection of their choice for a penny. She collects the money for some charity.”
“That’s a bargain, but I’m thinking of buying one when we move to Dakota.”
They rounded a bend and Izzy, rosy lips pursed in a circle, pointed with her mitten-clad hand. “There it is.”
Someone had already gotten a fire started in the small cabin as evidenced by the plume of smoke billowing from the chimney. Daniel had obviously arranged this in advance. He always thought of everything.
Like the hero of a fairy tale throwing down his cloak so his lady’s feet wouldn’t get wet, Daniel looked out for his ladies’ comfort. That thought warmed Maggie’s heart even as the cold air caught her breath.
The bells halted as Daniel pulled the horse between the lean-to of the shack, a place to shelter the horse while they played.
And play they did, Maggie and Daniel as much of a child as Izzy, though they tired more easily. She lost count of the times Izzy begged to go down the hill one more time.
On the way back home, she listened to Daniel and Izzy as they compared this snowy landscape to that back in Boston. This wide-open countryside would be quite a change for them, and Maggie wouldn’t add to their perceptions. It would be so much better for them to discover the hidden beauty for themselves.
She stored all this to memory to ponder later. What would she have given to have had a father take up the time with her. A child who knew her father would answer every question. A father who cared enough to give a thoughtful answer.
Suddenly noticing the long shadows cast by the trees, the smile she’d worn all afternoon faded, and a rock settled in her stomach. This was the last day of her time with these two. Tomorrow they would leave, carrying her heart with them.
Surely Daniel would speak up tonight.
It was almost full dark when they reached home and growing colder. Daniel had left a low fire burning in the fireplace, and he brought in another armload of wood to refresh it as Maggie and Izzy shed their coats and wraps.
Daniel looked up from his task. “You won’t believe this, but I’m hungry again. I guess all that activity burned off that feast we had at noon. For me anyway.”
Maggie laughed. “We left plenty. I’ll lay it out. You want to help me, Izzy?”
“I want to play with my Christmas presents,” Izzy whined, gazing longingly at her toys.
“Isabelle.”
That was all Daniel had to say. The little girl slid a glimpse to her father and skipped to Maggie’s side. “I’d rather help you, Miss Maggie.”
Not hardly. Maggie nudged Izzy toward the kitchen. More like she’d rather please her papa.
After feasting for a second time, Daniel permitted Izzy to return to the parlor to play, then held his cup out for a refill. Maggie hovered with the always-present coffee pot.
“I’m going to miss your coffee, Maggie. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.”
If he’d dashed a shovel-full of snow in her face it wouldn’t have stung as much. She held her composure until she filled his cup, then quickly turned to the stove, tears burning the backs of her eyes. Up until this moment, she’d hoped against hope that he might— What? Tell her he couldn’t leave without her? But if that were true, he wouldn’t have to miss her coffee.
Hope was now futile. He intended to leave as planned in the morning. They were going out of her life, and she’d never see them again.
The pot clanged as she placed it on the burner. Her hands shook and she clenched them at her sides, trying to stem the rising tide. To no avail—the knot worked its way from her throat in a sob. Tears fell from her face in such a torrent, they sizzled on the hot stove.
She didn’t realize Daniel had moved until he was behind her, his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “Maggie, what’s wrong?”
The tenderness sounded hypocritical to her bruised heart, but she wanted an explanation. She deserved that much. Forcing her eyes to meet his, she trembled, and the words came out between sobs. “Why did you…why did you…make me…love…you…when you intended to leave me?”
“Maggie, I’m sorry.” He tried to pull her to him, but she was having none of that. She wanted none of his sympathy. Only the truth. She sidestepped out of his reach. He let his arms fall to his sides. “Do you believe in miracles, Maggie?”
Anger dried her tears. “Are you saying it would take a miracle for you to love me, Daniel? If so, yes, I can believe that, but evidently it isn’t one I’m granted.”
“I’m saying the opposite, Maggie.” He took her in his arms and when she struggled, refused to let her go. “Yes, I came here with the intention of making you love me, but I never expected I’d fall in love with you. Yet I fear you won’t be able to believe that now.”
All the fight in her left, leaving her uncertain and afraid. “I don’t understand.”
“Five years ago, on this very night, you unwittingly gave my wife and me a miracle.”
Had he taken leave of his senses? “I didn’t even know you five years a
go.”
“That’s true. You didn’t.” He wrapped an arm around her and eased her to the door to the parlor. “Take care not to catch Izzy’s attention, but I want you to look at her.”
Down on her knees and not paying attention to them, Izzy was placing the tiny furniture in her dollhouse. “What exactly am I supposed to see?”
Daniel put a finger to his lips, asking her to lower her voice. “Take a good look, Maggie. Is there anything about Izzy that looks familiar to you?”
Of course Izzy looked familiar. The child had been her constant companion for a month. Still, something compelled Maggie to watch more closely. She’d always been strangely drawn to this little girl more so than with any of the children who passed through her schoolroom. Then again, anyone would’ve been drawn to Izzy’s sweet nature.
The child’s attention focused on the items scattered on the floor, picking up one after the other, apparently examining them.
Then it hit Maggie with a force that knocked the breath from her. The curl of Izzy’s hair. The tilt of the head. The way her tongue poked out the side of her mouth when she was in thought. Izzy looked a lot like…no…exactly like Maggie’s youngest sister, Ruthie, at that age.
A dart of recognition raced up Maggie’s spine, raising the hair on her neck and arms. She clutched her hands together as she stumbled backward against Daniel’s chest.
“It can’t be.” She struggled to get the words out around the emotion cutting off her air. She would have fallen to the floor if he hadn’t caught her.
Daniel stepped outside Izzy’s view and turned Maggie around, cradling her face in his hands. “It can be, Maggie. Isabelle is your daughter.”
He knew. The secret she’d managed to push to the furthest reaches of her mind, like a thorn deep in the flesh that only pained her when she worried it. He’d known all along. She felt stripped and exposed like a sheared sheep.
She studied his eyes, trying to find some reason in those blue depths that shimmered like twin pools. “How could you know?” She croaked the question.
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