37 comments/ 96934 views/ 9 favorites Maggie's Gift By: _Lynn_ This is my entry into the 'Winter Holidays Story Contest'. Be sure to vote, and either leave a comment or send feedback. I hope you enjoy it. * The cabin lights flickered each time the wind picked up. Snow swirled across the fields, piling up against anything in its way. Maggie poked at the fire in the wood stove before adding another log. It was two days before Christmas, and she was alone. His shoes sat by the door, right where he left them after slipping his boots on. An empty hook waited for his jacket. Images of him stomping through the snow on his way up the trail made her smile. Steve loved the outdoors. And winter was his favorite season. There was a pot of stew simmering on the stove. Maggie hoped the power stayed on at least until he made it back. It was one thing to be alone; adding the darkness to it didn't appeal to her at all. Finding a book to read, she curled up on the big leather sofa. A yellow fleece blanket warmed her as she turned the pages. The wind rattled the old windows, the panes tinted from the layers of frost. Maggie closed the novel that wasn't holding her attention, deciding to make some cookies. Before she even stood, there was an odd knock on the door. "Steve? You're back earl—oh." An old man leaned against the doorframe. Snow clung to his beard, masking the true color. Neither his hands nor his head had protection from the weather. Maggie knew their cabin was the only one around for several miles, and didn't recognize the stranger. Wary, she wondered where he had come from. "Are you all right?" "Cold, so . . . so cold," he whispered, his breath ragged. Something told her the man wasn't a danger to her. Whatever it was, she knew he had been in the storm far too long dressed as he was. "Lean on me so we can get you close to the fire," she said, putting her arm around his waist. She didn't drag him in, though she came close. The man did little more than shuffle his feet the entire way. Maggie held back her shock when she saw he didn't have boots or even shoes on. "My name is Maggie. I'm going to help you get warm again, all right?" His raised his head enough to look at her, then nodded. The sadness Maggie saw in his eyes made her wonder what put it there. Prying the buttons loose on the thin jacket he wore, she let it fall to the floor behind him. A red T-shirt was all that covered his thin frame. "Let's get you dried off a bit, okay?" She grabbed the blanket she had just been under and wrapped it around his shoulders. "My sister left this here the last time she visited. It's so soft and cozy. I probably should send it back to her some time." With a chance of frostbite from the frigid air, his wet clothes wouldn't help. Yet she hesitated to undress him. "Go ahead . . ." The raspy words startled her. Had he read her thoughts? Or did he know enough about the winters up in the mountains to realize the risks? Nervous about being alone with a stranger all of a sudden, she didn't move. "Don't be scared." The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. This man, this weary stranger, needed her help. Maggie felt a calm come over her before reaching for his belt. "I have dinner on—stew, with some biscuits. When we get you warmed up, I think you'll be ready to eat something." Lifting his left foot, his weight fell onto her. There wasn't much of it though, she realized as they repeated the motion with the right one. Dragging his jeans off wasn't easy. Maggie tried to keep the blanket around him while she tugged on the frozen denim without letting him fall. "Did you see the gorgeous sunrise we had this morning? I think Mother Nature was teasing us knowing she was going to turn this storm our way. Maybe that means tomorrow will be bright and sunny again though." Finally she stood again. The only clothing he wore was the T-shirt and faded boxers. She rubbed his cheeks with the end of the blanket, drying the icy skin. Small puddles of water appeared from the pile of clothing next to the stove. Sweat trickled down her back and across her forehead. "I'm going to reach over for the chair so you can sit. I won't let you fall." Again his weight rested on her. This time, she was ready for it as she leaned forward enough to grab the arm of the wooden rocker. "I know this isn't the softest piece of furniture in here, but we'll work on that. Once you're sitting, I'll get some more blankets and a pillow . . ." He didn't sit in the chair as much as he fell into it. Maggie could tell his time in the inclement weather exhausted him. The blanket cushioned his frail body from the old oak chair just a bit. She tucked it around him as much as she could before running into the spare bedroom. "Here, let's get this quilt around your legs," she said when she returned. She felt him watching her. It wasn't a freaky, scary feeling. No, it was more like a trusting child who adored the person helping them. "You saved my life," he mumbled through the blanket covering his mouth. "I think someone else had a hand in that. He led you to our door; I have the easy part." "He don't help people like me." Maggie didn't want to upset the stranger, so ignored his statement. She checked the fire instead, intending to get him some food. "Damn it's nasty out there!" Cold air swirled across the room, tossing fresh snow in with it. Maggie touched the old man's arm when he jumped at the sound of Steve's voice. "No, don't be afraid. That's Steve, my husband." Tired eyes looked at her. Maggie saw pain along with the sadness in them. She smiled before going to the door. "I was getting worried. The storm turned far worse after you left," she said, reaching for the jacket he had just taken off. The main living space of the cabin wasn't visible from the entryway. Maggie knew that meant Steve hadn't seen the stranger. Using hand signals for him to be quiet, she pressed him forward a few feet. She knew the second he eyed the man huddled under the blankets. Steve stared at her, confusion in his eyes. He tugged his boots off and slipped into the loafers waiting to warm his feet. That his wife let a complete stranger into the cabin with her was odd to him. Of course, danger in the city was far more common than where they were in the mountains. The bundle of wet clothing on the floor clued him in to what might have happened. "Mags?" he asked, using one of his nicknames for her. "I think he escaped frostbite, but you know more about the signs than I do. He's only been here a few minutes." They whispered, leaning close to each other to hear. Steve tipped his head to check the stranger before nodding. "My name is Steve," he said as he walked toward the man. "My wife did the right things by getting your wet clothes off. Are you feeling warmer yet?" He kept his voice friendly, casual, and low. The old man stared, just as he did when Maggie undressed him. "Is it all right if I check you for any signs of frostbite? I'm not a professional, but I grew up in snow country." A slight nod was the only answer Steve got. Pale skin covered the arthritic feet; goose bumps covered the spindly legs. Pushing the blanket away revealed arms the color of mausoleum tile. Steve took extra time with the gnarled fingers, still icy cold. Before crouching next to the old man, he tucked the ends of the fleecy material around him. "Got a name?" "Nick." "Nice to meet you, Nick. It looks as if you escaped frostbite. Are you hungry? Maggie's stew will give you some energy." Hearing Nick's stomach grumble, he winked. Maggie had already gone into the kitchen, leaving the men alone. "What say we find you something to wear first? There's a pair of sweatpants in there with your name on them." "Thank you." "You're welcome," Steve said. "You're safe here, Nick. When you're ready to talk, let me know." "Why?" "Why what?" "You don't know me. I could be a killer. Why are you being kind to me?" "I suppose you're right on that one. But my Maggie is a good judge of character. I trust her instincts. She let you in. That's good enough for me." Nick gripped the arms of the rocker to support himself as he rose. Grimacing, he grabbed the yellow fleece and tucked it around him. Steve led the way into the spare bedroom. "My brother comes up here with us sometimes, and always leaves a few clothes behind. These have a string you can use to make them fit better, but I think they're close to your size." Steve rummaged through the drawer for a pair of boxers and some socks. Tossing them onto the bed with the pants, he went to the closet. "Would you like a sweatshirt or something lighter?" "Either is fine," Nick replied at last. "Here's one of each. If you want a shower, there's one right through that door. Clean towels are in the smaller of the two cabinets. If you need help, let me know." "A shower would be good." "The water takes a bit to heat up in this part of the cabin. You going to be all right?" Nick nodded before shuffling into the bathroom. After waiting a few minutes, Steve heard the water go on. Leaving the bedroom door open a few inches, he went into the kitchen. "He's taking a shower, and I put out some of Tommy's clothes for him to wear." "Oh Steve, he looked so sad when I was helping him. It was almost as if he didn't care if he . . ." "Yeah, I saw that too. He can stay here as long as this storm keeps up, but after that it's his choice." "What did it look like when you were out there?" "I only made it halfway down the ridge before I turned back. The wind picked up and made it impossible to see. I used the fence as my guide until I reached the top. Mags, it was so strange. The clouds lifted, and the snow stopped long enough for me to see the cabin. About twenty feet from the door, the blizzard descended on me again." The pipes creaked, signaling the water going off. Steve gave his wife a quick kiss and grinned. "That was for being such an awesome wife." "It's easy to do with a husband like you." She ran her fingers down his cheek and gazed into his eyes. This Christmas was going to be their first one as a married couple. She adored him, and reminded him often. Second marriages for both of them, he was her soul mate. Steve worshiped her, spoiling her as often as he could. He made sure she knew he had never loved until he met her. Friends envied their closeness, trying to figure out the secret to happiness through them. "Oh, 'scuse me," Nick said from the doorway. "No worries. How do you feel?" Steve asked. "Better, thanks." "I have dinner ready. Why don't you two take a seat and I'll get the stew," Maggie said. "You heard the lady, Nick. I smelled that stew as soon as I opened the door. It's about time I get to eat some of it." Nick sat in the chair closest to him, looking relieved to be off his feet. Steve sat down just as Maggie returned with the pot of stew. "Man, I'm hungry," Steve said while reaching for the ladle. "Hold your bowl up here Nick, and tell me how much you want." From the look in the old man's eyes, Steve wondered when he'd had a decent meal last. He scooped up chunks of beef, potatoes, carrots, and onions along with the rich broth it simmered in. Nick held his hand up after the second one. "Maggie uses some special spices in this. The recipe came from her grandmother. You might want to try it before you add salt though." Again Nick only nodded, his spoon already digging into the rich stew. Maggie brought out some fresh rolls and butter, placing them nearest to the stranger. "Did I hear my husband call you Nick?" Maggie asked when she joined them at the table. "Yep." "Well, Nick, I hope you leave some room for dessert. There's a pan of frosted brownies on the counter just waiting for us." She almost laughed at the look Steve gave her. He was the king of chocolate, if there was such a thing. His friends teased him that he was worse than a woman at craving the rich flavor. "I'll make sure I do, ma'am." "Please, call me Maggie." Nick looked over at Steve as if seeking his permission. The younger man winked before nodding. "Thank you, Maggie. This stew is the best I ever tasted. You're a good cook," Nick said. It was the most he had spoken since he entered the cabin. The sound of his own voice startled him. Nick glanced around as if someone behind him did the speaking. "Thank you. Grandma lived with my family when I was growing up, and did all the cooking. She taught me a few of her secret recipes," Maggie said, smiling at the memories. "I never did master making bread though." "Tain't nothing to that," Nick replied. "Then maybe you'll have to show her tomorrow, Nick," Steve said. "Maybe." Nick went back to eating—a signal he didn't want to talk anymore. Neither Maggie nor Steve wanted to push him. When the man was ready to talk, he would. Steve helped with the dishes, a ritual they began even before their wedding. Nick lay stretched out on the sofa, the yellow blanket tucked under his chin. His soft snores made Maggie smile. "He looked better after dinner, don't you think?" she asked. "Yeah, he didn't look as pale as before." "I think we should let him sleep right where he is. When he wakes up he can go into the spare bedroom." "Good thought, honey. So how do you propose we spend the evening?" Her eyes told him what she wanted to do. Her words didn't match it though. "Let's go outside. The storm seems to be over." "And the moon is breaking through the clouds, so there will be enough light. Don't forget to bundle up good though, because it's bitter cold out there," he said. "Yes dear." He laughed at her mocking tone. "All right, I should remember that you're a big girl and know a few things." "A few? I know lots of stuff, mister." "Yeah? Like what?" She walked up to him and kissed him. "I know how to make you beg," she whispered. Steve hissed at the image from her words. Before they met he was always holding tight to his control. But Maggie showed him how to let go, giving the power to her. Now he craved what she did to him. "You're a minx. I should paddle you." "It feels good, doesn't it?" Images from the night before flashed through his head. Wild and free, she gave him everything. "I'm going outside to cool off," he said after giving her a heated look. Her laughter stayed with him even after he left the cabin. For just a moment, Steve regretted the intrusion on their vacation from the stranger. That changed as soon as he realized the man could have died. He didn't hear Maggie join him. But he felt the snowball she whipped at him. "Oh, you're in for it now, Mags!" She ran away from the cabin, the drifts impeding her get-away. Lunging at her, he fell into the snow when he missed. That gave her a good lead. But in the end, he always caught her. She made sure of that. Playing like young children, they made snow angels and a lopsided snowman. "Think we should get back inside? I don't know about you, but I'm ready for some of those brownies," Steve said. "Yeah, I'm worn out. Must be cause I'm so old." Though she was teasing, Steve was indeed the younger of the two at forty-five. Maggie was fifty-three, but no one ever guessed that from her looks. "Lean on me, you old woman you." Steve held out his arm and grinned. "Old lady? Who you calling a lady?" Facing him, she shoved him into the snow. Then she put her hands on her hips at the same time she put a boot on his stomach. She knew the second she did that she shouldn't have. Steve grabbed her leg and pushed. Shrieks of laughter echoed across the mountain. Nick rested on the couch, listening to the couple play. He smiled, remembering the times he and his Mary had laughed together. Cold air rushed into the room when Maggie opened the door. Snow swirled around her feet, melting as it hit the floor. Steve brushed the excess snow off his jacket before following her inside. "Ah, you're awake. Are you feeling better?" Maggie asked as soon as she saw Nick sitting up. "Yes, thank you. Have fun out there, did you?" "I did. Before I met Steve, I wasn't too fond of the snow. He loves the cold weather, so I decided to see what was so special about it by looking through his eyes. The crisp night air is amazing." "Don't let her fool ya, Nick. She prefers lounging around the pool," Steve said. Maggie shook her head and gave him a soft push on the arm. "Just for that, you don't get any brownies." "I take it back, I swear!" "I knew that would get you to behave. Nick, want to join us in the kitchen?" she asked. Along with the brownies, Maggie set out milk and coffee. "These are almost as good as the ones my Mary made," Nick said as he took a second brownie. "I miss her." The words held a world of emotion in them—pain, sadness, and loneliness. "Has she been gone long, Nick?" she asked. Staring into space, he nodded. "Eight years. "I'm sorry. Losing someone we love is so hard." His gaze shifted to her and she answered before he even asked. "My daughter died when she was twenty-six. A drunk driver trying to outrun the police hit her broadside. He had an outstanding warrant for assault, and didn't want to go to jail. So when the cops tried to pull him over for running a red light, he sped up. Trish was on her way home from work." "I hope the bastard rots in prison," Nick replied. "He died in the hospital a few days after the accident. That was ten years ago. The pain eases, but it's always there in the background." Steve reached over and took her hand. He gave it a little squeeze to remind her he was there for her. "So, is everyone full now?" she asked, changing the subject to something less maudlin. "Stuffed and then some," Steve replied. Nick shifted his gaze from the plate of brownies to the couple across from him. "Go ahead, Nick. Don't be shy." The old man blushed but took another brownie. He hadn't eaten the day before, though he hadn't said anything. "Honey, you stay sitting and I'll take care of this." "I think he's trying to make a good impression, Nick," she whispered, leaning closer to him, hoping to get a smile from him. But as he had done so many times in the few hours since he showed up, he just nodded. Maggie hid her disappointment by going into the living room. "She means well, Nick," Steve said. Steve saw defeat in the pale blue eyes looking back at him. There was not a doubt in his mind that Nick had a problem bigger than he knew how to handle. "Maybe I can help. I'm a lawyer, though not in the public sector anymore." "Fat lot of good the last lawyer did me." "We're not all crooked," Steve said in a soft voice. "I should go. Where's my clothes?" "You can't go in the dark!" "You gonna stop me?" Nick asked, staring at Steve. "If I have to, yes." Nick shoved his chair back and stood. With one last glare, he left the kitchen. Maggie watched as he went right into the spare bedroom and shut the door. Steve came in next and shook his head. "Let's go to bed, honey," she said. "I'll check the fire and lock up." Knowing her husband as well as she did, she realized he needed a few minutes alone to work out whatever happened between the men. When he was ready to share with her, she would be right at his side waiting. He couldn't sleep. Nick didn't like the man he had turned into over the past year. His Mary would hate it too. Everything seemed pointless anymore though. The same law that was supposed to protect him took everything away that he had. Chilled, he decided to go sit by the fire for a while. That's where Steve found him early the next morning. Covered with the yellow fleece blanket, he looked frailer than he had the night before. While thinking about what could be bothering the old man, Steve made coffee. Maggie's Gift "Good morning," Maggie said to him a few minutes later. "You're up early." "I couldn't sleep without you there." He grinned, knowing it was the truth. Divorced when they met, Maggie had been on her own for seven years. Yet once they began sharing a bed, she couldn't sleep without him at her side. "Coffee is ready. Do you want breakfast now, or should we wait?" he asked. "Let's wait a little while. Sleep is good for him, I think." They stayed in the kitchen, drinking coffee and talking. No matter how much time they spent together, they always wanted more. Steve's friends teased him about it, but they in fact envied him. None had a relationship that even came close to what he had with Maggie. Sobbing from the living room brought them both to their feet. Nick was still in the old rocker, but the blanket lay in a heap across the room. Maggie could only assume he had thrown it there when the tears started. "It's going to be all right, Nick. Let all the pain and anger out. You'll feel much better after you do," she said, kneeling in front of him. "Nothing will be right again. Those crooks made sure of that." "Nick, whatever you tell us goes nowhere. Mags and I might be able to help you with whatever is tearing you up." Lifting his head, Nick looked at the couple standing next to him. They reminded him of what he and his Mary had so long ago. Thinking of her, he swore he heard her voice right then. 'You can't fight this alone. They're good people, Nick. Talk to them.' "Mary and I didn't have a lot, but we were happy. When she found out she was sick, I came close to falling apart. The doctors tried all the medicines and surgeries, but—I only wanted her to be with me longer. I was selfish, and didn't think of all the pain she had to deal with. Then one night she put her foot down. No more surgeries, nothing. She was tired and ready to go. I couldn't do what she asked. I tried, but she got worse. "I heard of this new procedure—forget where, but I tracked down the doctor. He examined Mary, and said he was positive it would help. You have to understand, I was desperate to help her. I didn't care what it cost, as long as it made her better." Maggie sipped into the bathroom for the box of tissues there. She set them on his lap without saying a word. They waited while he dried his tears and blew his nose. "He said it would cost $25,000 up front, and the rest later. I signed the papers for the surgery without telling her. The day before the procedure, the cops arrested the doctor on a whole list of charges. He was in jail when he was supposed to be helping my Mary. She died two days later." "Nick, I'm so sorry," Maggie said, touching his shoulder. "When he handed me the forms giving him permission to treat her, I didn't bother reading them. Hell, that stuff never made sense to me anyway. The bastard lied. He got himself a shyster lawyer who pointed out a 'non-refundable' clause to me. I lost my Mary, and all the money I had left." "Not all lawyers are crooks, Nick," Steve remarked. "By the time I got over the worst of my grief, the guy had a list of charges against him a mile long. Even if I did hire someone else, I wouldn't get my money back." "And today? She's been gone a long time. How have you supported yourself since then?" Steve asked. Nick sighed before looking at Steve. "I sold it all." "Damn it! Honey—" "You know that's not my field. Nick, I deal in business law. Do you happen to have any of the documents anymore?" "They're in a safety box at the bank. I put Mary's rings in there so I didn't—I was afraid I would have to sell them too. And I couldn't. I didn't want anyone else wearing them." "Where have you been living?" "We had this little piece of land down at the bottom of the ridge. Mary loved the mountains. She spent hours looking at blueprints for a small cabin. But things didn't work out that way. When she died, I tore the old barn down behind our place and built her dream cabin. It's nothing fancy, but that's not what she wanted." "What about everything else? Food, medicine, clothes . . ." "Second-hand stores and food from whatever charity I can find. Had a garden and froze everything. Winters I do some trapping." "Ah, yes. I've seen a few around. I'm not opposed to trapping as long as it's not for recreational purposes," Steve said. "Used every bit I could." "That's how you got caught in the storm, isn't it? Checking traps?" "Yep. Wasn't snowing when I left, and I hadn't been out in a few days. Lost track of time, and the weather. 'Fore I knew it, there was so much snow falling I couldn't see. Musta' wandered for hours, trying to get back. By the time I got this far, I was darn near out of my mind. I didn't even see your place 'til the door was in front of me." "He brought you here, Nick," she said. "That's right. And don't forget that tomorrow is Christmas. This year, you won't be alone, Nick." The sudden recognition at the mention of the holiday showed on Nick's face. "Maggie and I met in the summer. I proposed on Christmas morning, so it's a special day for us." "Then you don't want me here. I'll find my way—" "You look outside this morning yet?" she asked. "No, but—" "We have more than enough food. There's plenty wood, and if the power goes off, we have generators. There's no reason for you to leave now," Steve replied, covering any argument he thought Nick might make. "Thank you," he whispered. "You don't even know me, and you've already done so much." "This is the season for sharing, Nick. Both Maggie and I have been lucky in the past. Before I met her, I spent several years using my law degree to help poor people accused of crimes they didn't commit. She had a great career in real estate. We teamed up and opened our own real estate and land development company. Even with the economy the way it is, we're doing all right." "The only land developer I heard of around here is Mast—Maggie and Steve. Boy, you're doing damn fine from what I hear." Maggie laughed when her husband's cheeks turned pink. He didn't like talking about himself, or his successes. And wealth didn't impress him. "Yeah, so we got lucky. Enough of that. Who wants breakfast? I'm cooking," Steve said, waiting for their answers. "I'm starved," she replied. "Nick, you like omelets? My husband makes the best ones I've ever had." "After that dinner last night, I shouldn't be hungry, but . . ." "You stick around here and we'll fatten you up in no time. If we talk real sweet, maybe he'll make his famous burritos for dinner." "Hey, woman, I thought cooking was your job. Aren't you supposed to wait on me hand and foot?" Bursting out in laughter, Nick stood up. "I need to freshen up, and then I'll be right there. Oh, before I forget . . ." He stopped in front of Steve and held his hand out. "Nick Thomas. I appreciate your hospitality. You took me in from the cold without knowing a single thing about me. Not many people would do that." "Destiny, Nick. It was meant to be." Maggie leaned against her husband. "Some things just are, Nick. We can try to figure them out, but that won't change anything." This time when Nick nodded, he smiled and stood straighter. "I have a lot to learn." They played board games and cards to entertain themselves. Later Nick stayed inside while Steve and Maggie went outdoors again. She shoveled while he brought more wood from the shed to the porch. They followed the same routine whenever they stayed at the cabin. Finally, they were ready to go back inside. Maggie opened the door and gasped. "Oh my god, no way." "Honey, what is it?" "Come in and you'll know." He had only taken two steps inside when he grinned. "He's making bread." Jackets and boots flew off. She ran through the living room and stopped in the kitchen doorway. Nick stood at the counter, kneading the dough. "Hope you don't mind I looked around. I wanted to do something for you two, and this was all I could think of." "Mind? You can't be serious? This is fantastic! It's been ages since I had fresh bread!" she said. "You'll have to teach her how to do it, Nick. Whenever she tries, the loaves end up about two inches high." "They do not." "Oh right, sorry. Two inches is pushing it." She slapped at his arm, laughing at the same time. Nick saw the love they had for each other in everything they did. "I guarantee this will be higher than that," Nick said. He was right, too. When the timer went off at last, Maggie ran into the kitchen behind Nick. "Is it ready? Can I have some?" "I might have to get it out of the oven first, lass." "Then can I? Please?" "Let's get it out of the pans, okay? Then you can." "Yay, you hear that, baby? It's ready!" Nick laughed, but the sound wasn't as foreign to him as it had been just two days ago. He wasn't going to question how he ended up at this cabin so far away from his own. For now, he was going to enjoy his time with them, and deal with anything else later. It had been far too long since he felt even a little bit alive. Steve walked in and stared. Three perfect loaves of bread sat on cooling racks. The entire cabin carried the tantalizing aroma. "Ah, if she gets some, can I have a slice too?" he asked, adding a bit of begging to his voice. "There's enough for everyone, kids. Don't fight." Nick tried to act stern—failing when he couldn't hold back the laughter. "I put the leftover stew on when the bread went into the oven. So if that's okay with you two, we'll add this to it and call it dinner," he said, going over to the stove. "Man, you're spoiling us, Nick. That's perfect. I'm hungry again too," Steve replied. "I'll set the table!" Maggie came close to tripping over Steve in her eagerness, a move that made him laugh. Nick stood still, a solemn look on his face when she turned back. "Nick, what's wrong?" "You really did save me the other day." "I didn't—" "It's more than taking me in and making sure I was okay. The laughter was gone. This—here—with you two—this is what it's like to be alive." Steve knew what he was saying. Maggie gave more to others than she realized. She was a giver, a caring, compassionate woman who loved life and people. From the moment they met, he felt renewed, eager to live again. Before her, he existed. Now, he lived. "Yes, I feel the same way, Nick," he said. Maggie moved toward her husband. He was the one person who gave her everything, never asking for anything in return. She loved looking into his eyes. They held the key to his soul. "I—I'm going to cry," she whispered. "Don't cry, lass. It's Christmas Eve, and you should be excited, not sad. In the short time I've been here, you've shown me the true spirit of the holiday. Taking a stranger into your home speaks a great deal about your character," Nick replied. "She's amazing, Nick." "I'm only me, guys. This—whatever you see—is who I am," she said, looking from one to the other as she spoke. "I have no doubt my Mary would have loved you. She was a giver as well." "Thanks Nick. Now, if you two are done embarrassing me, can I have some bread?" Her question took them by surprise, making them both grin. Steve leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. Heat exploded between them as it always did. They moved apart when Nick cleared his throat. "I'm in the way, aren't I?" Steve pulled Maggie into his arms and smiled. "No, you're not." "But you aren't used to having anyone else around, are you?" "That's true, Nick," Steve replied. "So?" "I've been thinking of myself, and forgetting that you two might want some privacy." "We're fine. Don't give it another thought. Now, can I please have some bread?" Maggie asked them. "I'll get the bread knife, you get the butter," Steve said, patting her backside when she turned. "Yes sir!" She gave him a mock salute and stuck out her tongue. "Here you go, Nick. You do the honors of slicing that gorgeous looking loaf of bread. I can't force myself to cut such a thing of beauty. Look at the symmetry, the curves—" "Oh shut up before he changes his mind," Maggie said. "You know, it did turn out close to perfect. He might be on to something." Nick held the loaf up, turning it back and forth as if studying every detail. Maggie stomped her foot hard enough to get their attention. "Fine, you keep it. But then I get all the chocolate goodies and snacks I made for tomorrow." "Ah, did I tell you I love chocolate, honey?" Steve asked. "Is that right? Funny, but I do too. I think my favorites are the chocolate covered cherries though." "Here you go, Maggie. One slice of fresh bread," Nick said, holding out a plate. "Oh sure, cave in. I see whose side you're on." Steve winked as he spoke. "Never argue with the woman hiding the chocolate, young man." "Yeah, you're right. But you forget that I have ways of making her talk." "I may be old, but I remember those ways." They spent the next half hour in the kitchen, devouring an entire loaf of bread and the rest of the stew. When they had everything cleaned up, they gravitated to the living room. Steve added another log to the fire before sitting next to his wife on the sofa. Maggie tucked her legs under her and leaned against him. And Nick claimed the rocking chair, draping the yellow blanket over the back. The crackling of the fire was the only sound for a long time. Nick was deep in thought when Maggie spoke. "Merry Christmas, Nick." He tried to hide the tears that escaped. It had been so long since Christmas was anything more than just another day for him. "Merry Christmas, Maggie. You're truly a blessing. Both of you are." Steve would never deny that his wife was a blessing. He was so thankful to have her in his life. "Merry Christmas," Steve added. "I think I'll turn in. Good night you two," Nick said, taking the blanket with him into the bedroom. "You lock the door, and I'll check the fire," Steve said a few minutes later. She stood at the window, deep in thought. "You okay?" he asked. "It's so clear tonight. Look at how the snow sparkles in the moonlight. Up here it's as if no one else exists in the world." "I've always loved this time of night. Everything is so peaceful." "Look! A shooting star!" "Merry Christmas, Maggie my love. My wish is—" "Don't tell me. If you say it out loud, it won't come true." "It already came true. I have you." "Mine did too," she whispered. **** Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, with not a trace of snow falling. That didn't matter to any of them. Nick knew he would never forget Maggie and Steve. Sure, he would go home soon, but their complete acceptance of him renewed his faith in mankind. For so many years he remained numb. From the moment Maggie let him inside, the ice around his heart began to melt. That afternoon Maggie and Steve went outside. Nick stood by the window and watched as they built another snowman. He and Mary never had children, though they had hoped for several. Listening to the laughter through the glass made him realize how much he had missed the sound. Three days—that's all it took to make him a whole person again. He wandered into the kitchen to check the turkey Maggie had cooking. At least he could do something for them, he thought as he closed the oven. Spotting the notepad and pencil on the table, he sat down and began to write. Maggie, You are truly a rare individual. There are people who think donating a few dollars to the local charity makes them a good person. In my eyes it takes more. You have it, without even realizing you do. I was ready to give up when I came across your place. Trudging through that storm wasn't easy for an old man like me. My Mary wouldn't be very happy with the man I've become. But, if she was still alive—well, everything would be different then. He brought me here to show me there is good on this earth. I wasn't sure anymore. You and Steve have an inner beauty that shows in everything you do and say. I will always smile when thinking of the days I spent here. There's no way I can pay you back, Maggie. Restoring one's life is priceless. By saving my body, you saved my soul too. I'm forever in your debt. After the past few days with you and Steve, I'm looking forward to the coming year. Merry Christmas Maggie and Steve ran inside, talking about the lopsided snowman they made. Taking her jacket off, she looked into the living room for Nick. "Maybe he's sleeping." "How about some cocoa?" Steve asked going toward the kitchen. "I'll even make it." "You're on." "Nick? Nick, can you hear me? Maggie, come in here—hurry!" "Steve, what's the matter?" she asked before she saw Nick slumped across the table. "Help me get him onto the floor, then call emergency." With his eyes shut, Nick looked as if he was asleep. She knew otherwise from the pasty gray color on his face, but dialed 911 anyway. As far up the mountain as they were, help would take a while to arrive. After giving the operator the necessary information, she turned to Steve. "Start compressions!" Steve said, opening the man's mouth. They worked for several minutes without success. Maggie sat back, trying not to cry. "Steve, honey, stop." She touched his arm, needing the reassurance of life he offered. "Aw Nick. I'm so sorry," Steve whispered. "No, he was happy here, honey. The past few days reinforced his belief in people." "Where are you going?" he asked when she ran from the room. "Be right back!" she yelled from the next room. Steve had never felt as helpless in his life as he did right then. Back in the kitchen, she knelt next to Nick. "He loved this blanket." That she thought about the yellow fleece blanket didn't surprise him. Her nurturing nature was always there. Together they tucked a piece under his head for a pillow, using the rest to cover him. Then they sat on the floor until the paramedics arrived. Late that night, with the chaos of the day over, Steve found the note. Seeing Maggie's name at the top of the wrinkled paper, he handed it to her. By the time she read the first couple sentences, tears ran down her cheeks. She gave it back to Steve after she finished and left the room. A few minutes later, he joined her. "Honey, you were a blessing to him. He will see his Mary now with a healed spirit. You gave him that." "Christmas is almost over." "Yes, it is." "You know, in a weird way, his dying today was a gift," she said, unsure how to explain her thoughts. "The past few days gave him life. Even in death, he will live on." "Always, Mags, always." "Merry Christmas, Steve." "Merry Christmas, my love." "Merry Christmas, Nick," she whispered, staring at the sky.