Sea of Christmas Miracles by Christine Dorsey

all
the same. “Merry Christmas to you, Master Stephen,” he said, while
breathing in his sweet baby smell.
    After handing the child to his mother, Thomas
leaped onto the wagon and started the horses down the lane. “You
will be back, won’t you,” his mother called after them.
    Thomas glanced at Margaret, but she didn’t
meet his gaze. She was too busy thanking everyone. “I’ll come
home,” Thomas yelled.

    It was well after dark when they reached the
old King plantation. Even by the light of the moon, Thomas could
tell the place had seen better days. Since the carpetbagger had
taken the property over, he’d given it very little thought... that
is until he decided it would do for his mill.
    He reined the horses to a stop in front of
the door and shook Margaret gently. She fell asleep a mile or so
back, and he’d draped his arm around her, pulling her close to his
side.
    They hadn’t really had a chance to talk since
he kissed her in the library, but Thomas had done his share of
thinking... and planning. All he needed to do was share his ideas
with Margaret.
    She looked up giving him a sleepy smile and
Thomas couldn’t help pressing his lips to hers. He would have
deepened the kiss if not for the Negro woman who opened the front
door. She held a lantern in one hand and a shotgun in the other.
Luckily she recognized Margaret, who jumped off the wagon seat
before Thomas could help her down.
    “It’s all right, Grace. It’s only me. And
this is Mister Blackstone.”
    “Mistah Thomas Blackstone?” The woman
seemed very surprised.
    “Yes, and we have such lovely things for the
children’s Christmas. Are they in bed?”
    “Each and every one ’a them. What happened to
you? Iz been worried.”
    “I’ll explain later. For now will you bring
the lantern so we can see?”
    “Don’t know what good the light’s gonna do
you. You’re as blind as a bat without them spectacles. Now just
how’d you go and lose them?”
    “It’s a long story.” Margaret looked toward
Thomas and smiled. “But I assure you, I can see all I need to.”

    It was near midnight by the time the wagon
was unloaded and the toys spread beneath a pine sapling Grace had
cut and brought into the drafty parlor. Still, Margaret insisted on
fixing Thomas something to eat.
    “I’m only a passable cook, but I can fry up
ham.”
    Thomas leaned back in a kitchen chair,
enjoying watching her move around the room. The smell of ham
mingled with the citrusy scent of the oranges on the table. “Do you
fix the meals for the children?”
    “I help, but that’s Grace’s job.” Margaret
looked down at the ham curling up in the iron skillet. “I sent her
to bed because she seemed tired.” Margaret shut her eyes when she
felt his hands on her arms.
    “Here I hoped it was because you wanted to be
alone with me!” Thomas brushed his lips across her hair.
    “Why are you doing this?” Margaret didn’t
want him to stop the wonderful things he did to her with his hands
and mouth, but she had to know.
    “It was more my family than me.”
    Margaret shot a look over her shoulder that
told him exactly what she thought of that explanation.
    Thomas grinned. “Maybe I didn’t like you
thinking I didn’t have a heart.”
    “I—” His fingers on her lips stopped her from
refuting her earlier assumption.
    “Because then I couldn’t tell you how you’ve
stolen it.”
    Margaret turned in his arms, the ham
forgotten. “What?”
    “I’m trying to say...” Thomas took a deep
breath. “I’m in love with you, Margaret Lewis.” He searched her
face for some kind of reaction. “I realize this is sudden and you
probably don’t feel the same, but—”
    “I do. I mean I love you, too, but I just
don’t understand—”
    His lips cut off the rest of her words. When
he had to break the contact or give up breathing, he trailed his
mouth toward her ear. “This is very new to me, but I do know that
love is something that you don’t have to understand.