Maggie's Christmas Miracle Read online

  He was alone at the counter, probably waiting for Juliette to bring some book he’d asked for. As Maggie looked his way, he smiled. Automatically, she returned his smile, then ducked her head.

  She still watched him from under her lashes. And his gaze lingered on her longer than was normal, making her feel uncomfortable. Was her hair awry? Or a smudge of ink on her face? Why is he looking at me? It wasn’t like strange men usually noticed her.

  Then Juliette came to help him, pulling his attention from Maggie, and she’d gone to the washroom to check her appearance.

  She’d pushed the incident to the furthest recesses of her brain, mainly because her gut told her the man in the library was interested in her. And she didn’t know if that was good or bad.

  Chapter 4

  Daniel checked the bit on the chestnut stallion Mr. Amerson had lent him for the duration of his visit, then tightened the cinch. Everything seemed in order, and he’d stalled long enough. It must be almost six o’clock. He’d returned to Westerfield thirty minutes ago, but didn’t want to arrive at Maggie’s house early. Give her more time with Izzy.

  He’d been in many operations that required perfect timing and precision, both in his investigative business and in the army. But none were more important than this one. Nor meant as much to him personally.

  The darkness had swallowed the house he was renting from Mr. Amerson, so he let the horse take him straight to the stables. Not even bothering to light a lantern, he stripped the horse, settled him in his stall, and emptied a pail of oats into the feed trough.

  In contrast to this place, the little house next door blazed from every window, quickening his steps to the front porch.

  The hum of feminine voices coming from inside made a pleasant sound. Welcoming.

  Three raps brought an abrupt silence, then the door swung open. The young blond pigtailed girl he remembered from the schoolroom gave him a smile. “Come in. Maggie will be out in a minute.”

  He removed his hat and stepped inside. The warmth and delicious smells of the house already had his mouth watering. “Thank you. It’s Miss Annie, isn’t it?” He knew who she was. He knew everyone close to Maggie.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll take your hat and coat, if you like.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll leave them here by the door.” Inside his coat were gifts he wanted to retrieve when the moment came.

  Izzy’s squeal came from the kitchen. She darted toward him, plowing into his legs with enough force to have toppled him if he hadn’t been braced. He lifted his little girl, the greatest blessing in his life, above his head then hugged her to him.

  No matter how disappointing and bleak his days were—and there had been many since Helen’s death—Izzy’s little arms wrapped tightly around his neck made it all vanish as surely as the light casts out darkness.

  “I made you cookies, Papa,” Izzy said. “Miss Maggie helped me.”

  “I can’t wait to eat one.” He kissed her on the forehead and, after putting her on the floor, noticed Maggie watching them. He looked into her soft, brown eyes. “Everything smells good. I really appreciate your taking time to teach Izzy how to cook. I hadn’t expected that.”

  She laughed. “I enjoyed it as much as she did, but cooking takes time, as all skills do.”

  “Indeed it does. I’ll be satisfied with cookies for the present.” He chuckled. “I won’t expect Izzy to serve me a full course meal anytime soon.” Searching through his coat he’d laid on the nearest chair, he turned to pull a long, slender tin box from the inside pocket. A Christmas scene of shepherds and sheep with angels hovering above was painted on the tin lid.

  He held it out to Maggie. “Please accept this in appreciation for inviting me to dinner.”

  Maggie just stared at the box for several moments before meeting his eyes, color rising in her cheeks. “That’s not necessary. I enjoyed…preparing the meal and taking care of Izzy.”

  Izzy stuck her head between them, trying to get a better look at the tin. “What is it, Papa?”

  He opened the lid. “Chocolates from a German confectioner. German chocolates are purported to be the best in the world,” he said, not taking his gaze from Maggie. “It’s customary for guests to bring the hostess a token of appreciation.”

  “They look delicious,” Maggie said, finally taking the gift.

  “Miss Maggie made you a chocolate cake, Papa.”

  He didn’t have to pretend surprise. “Truly? My favorite? Then I suggest you put these away, and we’ll enjoy your cake tonight.”

  Maggie blushed again, and a nervous laugh broke through her lovely lips, making him think she rarely received compliments. Or gifts. “I’m sure my cake isn’t nearly as…as good as these world-famous chocolates.” She tucked the tin away on the top of a tall secretary and gestured for them to follow her to the kitchen.

  The cozy kitchen reminded Daniel of that of his childhood. The red and white checkered tablecloth, iron stove, corner pie safe. The smells of home cooking. The feel of love.

  Sitting at one end of the table with Annie and Izzy on one side and Maggie on the other, he rendered a blessing at Maggie’s request, and gave his own silent thanks for being here instead of back in Boston in his sad, empty house.

  The talk turned to the school’s Christmas play, as Maggie and Annie discussed progress on the set.

  “Izzy, do you want to tell your father about our play?” Maggie turned her smile on Daniel. “Izzy is one of our angels.”

  “She’s always been my angel. What’s the play about, sweetheart?” he directed the question to his daughter who was nibbling the crust off a chicken leg.

  Izzy placed the chicken carefully on her plate. “Some of the children are on one side of the room. We are the angels. Annie and her brother are on the other side of Miss Maggie’s table. They are Mary and Joseph. Some of the other children stand in back to sing.” She sent a mute appeal to Maggie.

  “Izzy is so smart. I’m thinking of giving her a few words to say.” Maggie tapped the table in front of Annie. “Oh, by the way, Annie, would you pin the hem of our smallest angel gown to fit Izzy. I’ll hem it over the weekend.”

  “I can take it and hem it,” Annie said.

  “No, that’s all right. Since I’ll have Izzy with me after school, I can fit it on her in case it needs adjustment.”

  “Are you going to see the play, Papa?”

  “I’m looking forward to it. When will it be?”

  “Not this Friday, but the Friday after,” Maggie said. “That’s the last day of the fall term. School won’t reconvene until the second week in January.”

  “What do you plan to do with your time off, Miss Maggie?” Daniel asked.

  Her laugh held a touch of sarcasm. “Nothing.”

  He didn’t know whether she welcomed the thought of having nothing to do or—“Perhaps you can join Izzy and me to see something of the countryside.”

  Her face suffused with a ruddy hue. “I…I’m not sure. I will have to…think about that.” She ducked her head and studied her plate.

  He’d gone too far. Pushed too hard. It had been a long time since he’d courted a woman. Never a spinster who lived alone. He’d have to be a lot more circumspect in the future. It occurred to him Annie was here, not so much to help Maggie, but to provide some distance from him.

  “I brought you a present from Lincoln, too, Izzy,” he said to lighten the awkwardness his blunder had caused. He’d intended to give Izzy the toy after they went home, but now was as good a time as any.

  Izzy’s eyes lit like twin stars. “You did?” She pushed her plate back and started to scramble from her stool.

  “No, stay seated. I’ll bring it in here so everyone can see.”

  He didn’t often bring Izzy presents from his travels, and she only received toys on her birthday and Christmas. Not that he didn’t want to. Lighting that innocent joy in his little daughter’s eyes had become the greatest pleasure of his life. But he knew a child who received too m
uch appreciated too little.

  Maggie, Annie, and Izzy were watching expectantly when he returned to the table with a little brown paper bag. He cleared a place in front of Izzy and stood back for her to pull out her treasure.

  “It’s a chicken.” She held it up for all to see.

  “It’s a mechanical hen.” Daniel took it from her hand. “See, here’s the key.” He wound up the ceramic and tin toy, painted in the colors of a leghorn. When he set it on the table and released the key, the hen squatted and after a couple of squawks sounded, a white marble dropped from underneath and rolled across the tablecloth.

  They all laughed and Izzy clapped. “How clever,” Maggie said. “You’ll have to make her a nest so her egg won’t roll away.”

  “Will she lay another egg, Papa?” Izzy asked.

  “There’s only one egg, but here’s a hole you can drop it back in, then when you wind it up again, she’ll cackle and lay again.” He returned to his chair and finished his tepid coffee. “I passed by a toy shop, and thought you’d like it. The shop keeper said if you lose the egg, you can use any marble.”

  “Would you like another cup of coffee?” Maggie held the pot over his cup and when he nodded, filled it. “You went all the way to Lincoln? You must have turned right around to have gotten back so soon.”

  He took a sip of coffee before it had cooled enough and set the cup back down. “It’s not so far by train. I had an appointment to see my client’s lawyer, and no, it didn’t last very long, but as I mentioned, Westerfield is central to my investigation. Tomorrow, I head in the opposite direction. I had a bit of time before I caught the train back and stopped at the confectioners and toyshop.

  Maggie set a saucer holding a generous slice of chocolate layer cake before him. “Do you think you have room for dessert now? I’ve always found it goes best with coffee.”

  He smiled. “So have I. If you join me. It looks like the girls would rather play with the squawking hen than eat cake. I’ll probably hear that sound in my sleep tonight.”

  She grinned. “No doubt, but their distraction will leave more cake for us.” She lifted her cup as in a toast. “I’m afraid I allowed Izzy to spoil her appetite.”

  “It won’t be the first time. It’s hard not to spoil Izzy. She’s so appreciative of anything she makes you want to give her whatever she asks—and a great deal more.”

  “If adults were more honest with their feelings, they’d express appreciation more freely. For example, I really appreciated the chocolates you brought me, but society frowns on single women taking gifts from gentlemen, so I hid my true feelings.”

  “Yes, if only we could hold onto that honesty of childhood.” He forked a piece of cake. “But I could see the appreciation in your eyes.”

  A rapping, followed by the front door opening had all of them looking toward the parlor. A boy’s voice, already maturing to manhood, called out. “I’m ready to go home, Annie.”

  Maggie rose along with Annie. “Would you like to have some cake, Thad, before you go?” she asked, raising her voice loud enough for him to hear from the parlor.

  “No ma’am. I was helping Mr. Burke get his sow back in the pen and don’t smell too good.”

  Annie lifted her shoulders. “What he won’t do for Lucy. I didn’t get a chance to help you with the dishes or pin Izzy’s gown.”

  “That’s all right, dear, go ahead. I can work on the gown tomorrow after school. Tell Juliette, Jake, and Corky I said hey.”

  When the front door closed, Daniel placed his empty cake plate onto the stack Maggie was building. “Can I help you clean up?” he offered.

  “No, I can take care of it. It looks like Izzy is getting sleepy.”

  It was more than a hint that he should take his leave. “Then we’ll be going, and thank you for the delicious home-cooked meal. A real treat for Izzy and me.” He scooped the little girl into his arms.

  Maggie followed them to the door. “You can drop Izzy off with me in the morning instead of waiting for school to start, and she can have breakfast with me.”

  Shifting Izzy to one side, he donned his hat and snagged his and Izzy’s coats. Opening the door, he turned. “Thank you, I will drop her off. I’m afraid I have nothing to prepare for breakfast anyway.”

  He was descending the steps when Maggie added, “You are welcome to have breakfast with us…if you have time.”

  The invitation surprised him. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll wait and grab something in town. I’m not much of a breakfast eater. Good-night, Miss Maggie.”

  He might have been pushing her hospitality—stepping outside the bounds of propriety—but he had the feeling she would welcome him again, if for no other reason than loneliness.

  Still, he couldn’t do anything to besmirch her reputation in this town. He didn’t want to compromise her into marrying him, so he’d have to let the friendship grow into love, if possible. But did he have time? Izzy needed Maggie, and if he were honest with himself, he did too.

  Chapter 5

  Funny how the light of day could make one see the inner as well as the outer things more clearly. Maggie awoke to a chilly morning. In more ways than one.

  She stumbled out of the warm covers and slipped into her robe and slippers. Embers from the stove still glowed, and within minutes she had a fire going. Her usual breakfast consisted of an egg, piece of toast, and coffee. She couldn’t get going without her coffee.

  But today, she’d have to feed Izzy something warm. A pot of oatmeal soon bubbled. After stirring the mush and pulling the boiling coffee off the burner, she hurried to dress.

  As she passed the secretary, her glance traveled to the top where the box of chocolates lay. She took the tin and rubbed the top of the embossed scene. It was beautiful and meant more than she’d let on to Mr. Raleigh.

  It was the first surprise gift she’d ever received from a man. From anyone except the rag dolls her mother had made. But depravity had its own rewards. Those rag dolls had given her the opportunity to learn to sew, and she’d made clothes for her dolls when she was no older than Izzy.

  She lifted the lid, took one of the candies and popped it into her mouth. Flavors exploded in her mouth, and she savored it as she fastened her corset and slipped on her dress.

  Her hair would have to wait or the oatmeal would burn.

  The temptation to eat another chocolate was strong as she sipped her first cup of coffee.

  With the oatmeal done, she pulled it on the warmer and took her cup with her back to the bedroom to finish her toilette. A knock at the door stopped her. Mr. Raleigh was here this early? Before she’d put up her hair?

  There he was, dressed immaculately in black trousers and coat, holding a sleepy Izzy inside his overcoat. “I apologize for delivering Izzy so early, but I have to get started to make my appointment on time. I dressed her, but I hope you can fix her hair.”

  “Of course.” Maggie took Izzy from him. The girl’s hair was horribly tangled. She suspected it would take a lot more time to fix Izzy’s hair than her own. “Tell your papa to have a good day, sweetie.” Though the child had come to her without a fuss, Maggie could tell she didn’t want her father to leave.

  “Have a good day, Papa.” The words came out in a pitiful tone, so soft one had to strain to hear.

  Mr. Raleigh leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I wish you both a good day as well. Be a good girl and mind Miss Maggie, and I’ll see you tonight.” His gaze lifted to Maggie. “I’m leaving my buggy and horse for your use today. You’ll find Belle, the Percheron mare, well behaved, harnessed, and ready to go.”

  “You don’t need your buggy?”

  “No, I’m riding by horseback today.” He doffed his hat to Maggie and turned on his heel, but before she’d closed the door on him, he pivoted. “I won’t be traveling far today, and I’d be pleased if you would allow Izzy and me to treat you to supper at the boardinghouse restaurant tonight.”

  “I wasn’t expecting reciprocity when I invited you to supp
er last night, Mr. Raleigh.”

  “Reciprocity wasn’t intended, Miss Maggie, just requesting the pleasure of your company.”

  All her resolve to keep this stranger at arm’s length evaporated under his charming smile. “In that case, I’d be delighted.”

  She stood watching him disappear around the house, already doubting the wisdom of her decision. With the shake of her head, she took Izzy to the kitchen and dished up her mush, blackberry jam slathered toast, and a cup of milk. She finished her own breakfast quickly and kept a light, steady stream of one-way conversation going as she went about cleaning the kitchen.

  When all was done, Izzy had drunk almost all her milk, and eaten half her toast and perhaps a few spoonsful of oatmeal. Enough to Maggie’s thinking.

  “Ready for me to brush your pretty hair, Izzy?”

  The little girl nodded, tagging along behind Maggie to the bedroom, then hopped onto the vanity stool without being asked. “I look funny,” she said, the first hint of a smile quirking her lips.

  Maggie took the brush and sectioned off a bit of the silky brown hair. “It wouldn’t get so mussed if it were braided before you go to bed. Did your maid braid your hair at home?”

  “Yes, but Papa doesn’t know how, I don’t think.”

  “Probably not.” Maggie worked as gently as she could to brush out the little girl’s curls. Finally, she pulled the front half around to the back and tied it with a black velvet ribbon. It matched the black piping of her blue pinafore.

  She held a hand mirror so Izzy could see. Abruptly, the child grabbed her into a hug. “Thank you, Miss Maggie. You fix my hair as good as my mama did.”

  Izzy’s little fingers at the back of her neck sent a warm swell straight to Maggie’s heart. She held the little girl to her, savoring the moment. She’d hugged most of her pupils at one time or the other, but this one was different in a way she couldn’t fathom. All remaining doubt about her future drifted away. Of course she would wait on Mrs. Crenshaw to find her a husband. She wanted to have a child of her own. The joys of motherhood were too precious to give up.