More Than a Miracle Read online

  “There is pride in you, Maureen,” he whispered in his husky voice as he brushed the hair from her cheek. “And there is the woman’s softness all men and children crave and need as they need air to breathe. These things,” he said, struggling to turn on his side so he could see her, “these are the things I have come to love. The passion in you, for life and giving. And for loving a man. Yet, more than the strong desire I feel, I can lie beside you and am filled with completeness.

  “Is this love I have when you are always in my thoughts and in my dreams? Ah, Maureen. Don’t cry. I’ll not press you to answer me.”

  He leaned closer and kissed her lips, then skimmed her flushed cheeks before he tasted a tear.

  “Just think of what I’ve said. I really believe that our coming together was meant to be. It’s said that this season of Christmas is always one filled with love. Can there be a better gift to give each other?”

  She saw that he believed what he said, and she wanted to. No man had ever bared his heart to her like this.

  Here was the answer to her wish. Here, held within the circle of strong arms, with gentle lips taking her tears. But there was more, for here was a man who spoke from his heart, so strong that his gentleness was another kind of strength.

  “I’ve not courted you properly, Maureen,” he murmured, his lips warm against her ear. “But I will. That I promise you.”

  “Gabe, I—”

  “Hush, now. No answering me tonight But stay with me. Just let me hold you.”

  “Let me tend to your knee.”

  He pulled back a bit and looked down at her. “All right. But only if you’ll stay.”

  “I’ll stay.”

  Chapter Ten

  The days flew by as winter blanketed the land and soon Christmas would be celebrated. Maureen smiled a lot, but Gabe managed to avoid any serious talk between them. He teased her a great deal, and made the children giggle with his talk of a surprise come Christmas morning. It needed all four of them to get the great tree inside, and even then, Gabe had to trim down the branches to make it fit into the corner.

  In the evenings when chores were done and the snow fell, Gabe told stories, those he remembered his mother reading to him, while Maureen and the children popped corn to string for the tree. The dried berries had been hung and their tin cuts shone in the candlelight among the thick green boughs. The scents grew tantalizing with baking of cookies and more than a few mock battles ensued over the stealing of them.

  When Gabe’s storytelling was done and the children tucked into bed to dream their Christmas dreams, Gabe would draw Maureen to stand before the tree, for each day they added some made or found decoration.

  She loved the birds’ nests he had found, and told him her belief that they would bring them all good luck. And tucked into the branches awaiting the rock candy she had hidden were the carefully broken and washed eggshells with their little yarn handles.

  It was the sweetest time of the day, this quiet they shared, and then he would turn her within his arms and kiss her. There was yearning here, and the heat of passion for throughout the day the lingering glances each had cast had built to a sensual anticipation.

  Sometimes she would break away first, and sometimes it was Gabe who was stronger to send her off to bed before temptation took hold.

  It was a fine line to walk being mother and a woman who was courted. He never pressed for an answer and she cherished that about him, for she wanted the moment to be right when she spoke it.

  She spent many a minute staring at nothing and thinking of the small acts that a man does that spoke more of love than any grand words. Getting up first in the morning to stoke the fires and make sure the stove was lit with coffee nearly ready by the time she joined him. Every day, he managed to take the children off to work or to play for a few hours, giving her time to complete her gifts and see to the baking.

  There were always treasures found, a bit of rock broken from the ice-covered stream, tiny pinecones found hidden beneath thick-piled needles and boughs of fragrant pine to hang around the cabin. For her the treasure was the smiles in the children’s eyes and their laughter, and Gabe, always there, snaring her glance and holding it with his own.

  Love. It shaded every hour awake or sleeping, colored her voice as she hummed about her work, touched her hands as she cooked and brought a bright sparkle to her eyes.

  Two days before Christmas the angel appeared on top of the tree. Breakfast had long been over, yet they had lingered about, giggling and whispering with a great deal of head shaking when she glanced at them.

  Gabe finally took her over to the tree. “I’ve been hearing from a wee Irish lass that there is a thing you’ve been longing to have, Maureen. Will you not open your eyes and see it?”

  She poked among the branches, and saw nothing new. Chris and Kathleen said she was giving up too quickly.

  “You’ve got to look lower, Ma.”

  “No. No,” Chris piped up, “definitely higher.”

  Maureen stood with her hands on her hips bunching her apron. “And you, Mr. Channing, where do you suggest that I look?”

  “At me?”

  “Yes, Ma, do. Can’t you see he’s shaved every morning?”

  “And polished his boots,” Chris added.

  Maureen felt heat creep into her cheeks as they kept on with their teasing, then threw her hands up.

  “Enough! Now, tell me what I’m to look for.”

  “Up!” The three of them crowded around her and pointed.

  “An angel,” she whispered. “Wherever did you find an angel?”

  “Gabe—”

  “Pa—”

  “I made it for you,” Gabe said over the little ones’ shouts.

  “It’s lovely.” She turned back to look again, seeing the raw wood with its reddish grain mixed with a creaminess from the heart of the wood he had used. It wasn’t very big and there were no painted features. The wings spread out to the sides as if to take flight, but Gabe had used rawhide ties to keep it in place at the top of the tree.

  Her hand sought and found his waiting and she smiled at him. “I’ve wanted an angel on my tree for a long time. But maybe I’ve had my wish answered another way. Could it be the Lord sent me a real angel in you?”

  “Not unless heaven’s crowded this year. I already know He’s sent me one.”

  They had slowly drifted closer, so close their breaths mingled and had not realized they were in each other’s arms until Chris spoke.

  “Are you gonna kiss her? Are you, huh?”

  Kathleen grabbed hold of Chris’s arm and pulled him away from the tree.

  “Wait. I wanna see if he’s gonna kiss her.”

  “You can’t. Only a silly boy would want to watch. I know better.”

  “You saw them kissing?”

  She drew him around to the table. “Promise not to tell,” she whispered.

  “Promise.”

  “Last night.”

  Eyes round, Chris gulped. “You mean it’s gonna happen?”

  “Shush. I don’t know. But when a man kisses a woman he respects you can bet he’s thinking about marrying.”

  “How come you know so much about it, Kathleen?”

  “’Cause I’m older than you. And a girl. And girls are smarter about these things.”

  Chris offered no argument. “So, when is it gonna happen?”

  Since they were sheltered from sight by the tree, Kathleen dipped into the crock and pulled out two cookies. Trying to appear serious and thoughtful, she shook her head.

  “I imagine he’ll go down on one knee and take hold of her hand. That’s when he asks.”

  “Just like that story Pa told of Ivanhoe kneeling before the king?”

  “Just like that, Chris. Now, hurry up and eat your cookie before Ma comes.”

  “Aw, she don’t get mad. She only pretends.”

  Kathleen, knowing better, wisely held her tongue
and carefully, but hurriedly ate her own cookie.

  When the children’s whispers reached Gabe and Maureen, they had trouble holding back their laughter.

  “So, should I kiss you and make Chris happy?”

  Gabe’s murmur went no farther than her ear, but she felt his smile against her cheek.

  “What about me kissing you and making me happy?”

  “You’re a tempting woman, Maureen O’Rourke. Mighty, mighty tempting.” He looked into her green eyes. “There’s nothing of the angel in you now, woman. Pure devil’s mischief cooking—”

  “And you’d like a taste,” she finished for him. But it wasn’t the kiss he envisioned, only a chaste peck on his cheek. “That will keep you until later.”

  Only later, Gabe found that Maureen had talking on her mind.

  “I’m scared, Gabe. I’ve never had so much happiness and I’m afraid to believe it will last.”

  He dropped the load of wood he had brought in for the night and sat beside her in front of the fire.

  “Why would you think it can’t last between us?” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her near.

  “It’s too good, too perfect, Gabe.”

  “And I’ve nothing but promises to make that I will do everything I can to keep you happy. As happy as you are now. I guess that’s what it comes down to, Maureen. Do you trust me enough to believe me?”

  She turned to look at him, studying the craggy features that had become so dear to her heart. Strangely there was no fear left, not when she looked into his eyes and saw the love he felt waiting there.

  She took his hand within her own smaller one and lifted it to her cheek. “I believe you, Gabe. And I’ll make a promise, too. I will do everything I can to make us be as happy as we are right now.”

  He didn’t move, almost didn’t want to breathe. He had needed to hear her say that, needed it so badly that he cast the thought to the far corner of his mind. And this was part of loving a strong woman, that she needed him to make her happiness complete.

  He brushed his thumb over her trembling Ups. “I love you, Maureen.”

  “And I love you.”

  He saw the moonlight through the frosted window and took her mouth with his. Holding her, warming her with his big hands, soothing and inciting the passion that simmered between them.

  “And you’ll marry me as soon as we can get back to Denver?”

  “Yes, oh, yes, Gabe. I want to be your wife.”

  From the darkened corner of the cabin there came a smothered sound that quickly became a whoop. Chris rushed toward them, Kathleen only moments behind. They came together in a tangle of arms and legs, shouts and kisses until Gabe sorted them all out.

  “I knew you would, Pa! Kathleen told me so.”

  “Kathleen! How could you—”

  “Ma, you’ve been making calf eyes at him and blushing something awful when he’s looking at you. ’Sides, I saw you kissing him. And I wished so hard that he’d be my pa, too.”

  “And I was wishing to have you keep on as my mother.”

  Maureen opened her arms to the two of them, hugging them tight. Behind her, she felt Gabe’s arms reach around to hold them all. It was a good feeling, this happiness filled with love.

  Up before dawn Christmas morning, the children made breakfast a noisy affair. They all ate heartily of the flapjacks, eggs, bacon and ham, biscuits and sweet rolls. Last night, Christmas Eve, they each told a part of the Christ child’s birth, and this morning, they knelt to pray and sing hymns.

  But childish excitement could not long be contained. The stockings were quickly emptied to shouts and exclamations. Chris loved his new pocketknife and harmonica. The checkers set, a much read copy of From the Earth to the Moon by Jules Verne and the fishing hooks were things she had traded her baked goods and sewing to have for him. And Kathleen proudly showed off her new hair ribbons and hair combs. She had books, too, Vanity Fair and Little Women, along with two new outfits for her rag doll. The clothing matched the skirt and shirtwaist that Maureen had made and Chris loved his shirt, cut down from an almost new saved one.

  They shared gifts, too. An almost new box of Jack Straws she bought for eight cents, and a set of dominoes, and a tattered copy of the third volume of John James Audubon’s The Birds of America. And there was candy, peppermint sticks, rock candy and candied ginger.

  But before the presents hidden beneath sacking could be opened, they dressed warmly and went out to the barn where the horses and cow were given their Christmas treats of apples and carrots. It was a clear day, but cold, and soon the cabin filled with the delicious aromas of roasting turkey and baked apple pie. Potatoes were simmering, ready to be mashed, onion corn bread and light yeast rolls. Peas and bacon and carrots sweetened with honey.

  Then they opened the special gifts. Gabe and Chris loved the game bags Maureen and her daughter had made. And Kathleen spent rapturous moments exclaiming over her doll-house. For Chris, Gabe had fashioned a pair of snowshoes and, of course, there was the small quilting frame he made for Maureen.

  Quite unexpectedly, Chris and Kathleen stood up.

  “Pa, there’s a thing you need to do. To do the right way.”

  Bemused, Gabe repeated what his son said.

  “You’ve got to get down on one knee and hold on to Maureen’s hand and ask her proper. That’s what Kathleen said.”

  “Ah, I see. Very wise of Kathleen,” Gabe said with a wink for the blushing girl. Down on one knee he went and took hold of Maureen’s hand, then motioned Chris beside him. “Come on, son, down you go alongside me. This is a twoman proposition. And you, young lady, stand here beside your mother.” As soon as she had, Gabe lifted her hand and laid it over her mother’s.

  “Now, Maureen, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and Chris’s mother? Wait now. And you, Kathleen, will you do me the honor of becoming my daughter and a sister to Chris?”

  Maureen grinned at her daughter. “Be sure now, lass. If you say yes, we’ll be together for a long time. And Chris might not be the only brother.”

  “Oh, Ma, I like the sound of that word, together.” She smiled at Gabe and took hold of Chris’s hand. “This is the best Christmas ever.”

  “I agree,” Maureen added. “Together is a wonderful word and a beautiful Christmas gift.”

  “Woman, would you say yes so I can get up and kiss you proper?”

  “Yes, oh, yes, love,” she answered with a laugh in her voice.

  And he kissed her, not as passionately or as long as he wanted, but a satisfying kiss nonetheless.

  “Gabe, can we come back here? We have found more than a miracle here. We found love.”

  “We’ll come back. I promise you that, and what we found we will have forever.”

  More from Raine Cantrell

  Novellas

  Apache Fire

  Widowed and childless, Angie is named The Woman of Sorrow by Niko, a noble warrior of the Apache. But as passion ignites between them, Angie must weather the storm of prejudice and injustice for another chance at true happiness—and true love.

  The Bride’s Gift

  Nicholas Dowling’s mail-order bride is not what he’d hoped for—she’s too young, too delicate, and far too superstitious for a pragmatic man like himself. But not even Brianna’s untamable spirit can’t cast a shadow over her luminous beauty, and before long the blaze of their attraction grows into something neither one of them was expecting.

  Miss Delwin’s Delights

  Kit Sidell, Texas’s most eligible bachelor, has an insatiable sweet tooth. But when the challenge of a wager brings him to the kitchen of Birdie Delwin, Kit finds himself tempted by much more than her dessert menu.

  The Secret Ingredient

  Hallie Pruitt has a habit of taking in strays—both unwanted animals and captivating cowboys. When handsome Cade McAllister seeks shelter in her home while his broken leg heals, it’s her homemade candies that keep him
sober, but it’s the piping hot fantasies she describes in her diary that provides the secret ingredient to Cade’s heart.

  A Time For Giving

  Jacob DeWitt, a widower on Christmas leave during the Civil War, returns to his New York home determined to get Ellie Winifred to marry him. She has taken in his two motherless children and his younger brother while he is off at war. It makes perfect sense to him that they marry, but Ellie resists. It will take every bit of help Jacob, a proud, stubborn man, can get if he is going to convince Ellie that he is worthy of her love.

  Novels

  The Homecoming

  In the aftermath of the Civil War, one man’s vow to stand alone is shaken by the return of the love of his life. A new novel from national bestselling romance author Raine Cantrell.

  For most Texans, Reconstruction stood as a second declaration of war. Returning to his Texas farm at the end of the War Between the States, Matt Coltrane finds his land ravaged by scavengers as part of a greedy Reconstruction land grab. Turned bitter by the war, Matt attempts to avoid others, until Laine Ellis, the only woman he ever loved, is threatened. Despite the odds against him, Matt swears to protect her, as well as his land.

  Born to be a Southern lady, Laine Ellis grew up in a lonely cabin on the edge of the bayou. Stubborn and courageous, she is raising her brother and sister after raiders killed her parents and destroyed her home. Laine doesn’t entertain any man’s attention, until Matt’s return. She loved him with a girl’s starry-eyed innocence and now wants him with a woman’s passion. She and Matt struggle in the face of old enemies and new challenges to bring their dreams to life as an entire country strives to put itself back together.

  Wildflower

  In the idyllic mountains of Colorado, a woman will risk her life to save the ones she loves.

  For two years Jenny Latham has lived alone with her young son in the Colorado mountains, trying to manage her guilt over letting an abusive husband control her for too long. Her beauty makes her the object of many men’s desires, but with a broken heart and an independent streak as strong as the mountains themselves, Jenny refuses them all. But when she accidentally shoots a stranger and takes it upon herself to nurse him back to health, she finds all of her defenses wavering.