Darcie's Fan-Fiction

Episode 6: Title: Christmas Dreams

DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "Lonesome Dove: The Outlaw Years" are the creations of Rysher Television, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is not to be published on any ftp site, newsgroup, mailing list, fanzine or elsewhere without the express permission of the author.

"Maria Bennett" and all original material included in this story are the creations of Darcie Daniels.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

My story takes separately from Rob Nunn's stories, which features the great new cyber character, "Ty Sexton." Rob and I have spoken about this, and hopefully one day we are going to collaborate. It should be interesting to see the interact between Ty and Maria. :)

Just wanted to let you know which universe this story takes place in.......

Hey, I took another literary license and said that mistletoe grows in Montana (which it may, but I'm not entirely certain). For more information on mistletoe and why we kiss under that mischievous plant, take a look at this site here:

Mistletoe info

Here are some Merry Christmas links (I can't resist):

Holidays Net -- Christmas

Christmas in CyberSpace

Classical Net -- George Frideric Handel

I, for one, like "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," but I noticed that this year that the Grinch Net is down. :( Boo hoo!

Anyway, Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy.

barbed wire

Setting: Mid-December.
Curtis Wells, Montana Territory, 1880.

Maria peeked around the corner of Mr. Creel's general store. As she suspected, Mr. Call sat on his bench. Mr. Call almost always could be found on his bench when he did not have a bounty. Maria could see his breath in the cold air, and Mr. Call rubbed his bare hands. She frowned. Mr. Call ought to know better than to go around without wearing gloves in the cold winter.

Maria sighed, stuffing her hands in her muff. She would have to do something about that later. Now she was intent on teasing Mr. Call. Mr. Call was hilarious when he was irritated, and his irritation gave Maria great entertainment. Maria also reasoned that sisterly teasing helped her cousin-in-law out of his self-imposed shell. It was Maria's sworn duty to help her family in any way possible. This was one burden she did not mind, she smiled mischievously to herself.

She swung herself around the corner, threw herself on the bench, flung her arms open wide, and prepared to sing one of the more boisterous pieces from the _Messiah_. It was nearly Christmas, after all.

"Ev'ry valley!" she sang the first stanza as powerfully as she could. "Shall be exalted!"

It gave Maria great satisfaction to see Mr. Call jump two feet from his seat. He drew his revolver, and when he saw and heard that it was her, he holstered his revolver, snapping, "God damn it, Maria! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm singing, Newton. I always sing when I'm in an excellent mood. You really ought to try it, you know," Maria laughed. She sang some more bars from Handel's piece, not caring that the song was originally intended for a tenor. She was a soprano. Even with the piece transposed up an octave, it was still within her range. "And every mountain and hill made low!"

Mr. Call definitely looked irritated. He apparently did not like anyone serenading him. Maria laughed at him.

"Oh, Newton! You really ought to sing. Picture it. You on your white horse singing as you ride through a cornfield -- quite an image, is it not?"

He shook his head in annoyance. He knew she was insane.

Maria chuckled. Her cousin-in-law was far too serious. "I know there are no cornfields around here, especially in the middle of winter, but I think you'd look so cute singing on your horse, Newton. You'd look even more darling if you wore a red shirt. Maybe you ought to wash your hair and shave. Oh, Newton, what a sweetheart you'd make!"

He shook his head. He knew better that to listen to her crazy ramblings.

Maria ignored him and continued to sing at him, "The crooked made straight, and the rough places made plain."

"Maria, is there something you want?" Mr. Call demanded in a no-nonsense manner. "Or did you just sit down to annoy me to death?"

Maria chuckled at him. "Don't be silly," she told him, pinching his cheek affectionately. She loved him when he was irritated.

He slapped her hands away, much like a brother would to his sister. He hated it when she pinched his cheek.

Maria had to stop herself from laughing. Mr. Call really was a lot of fun. "I don't want anything from you. It's just that I'm in excellent spirits, Newton. I love Christmas. It's my favorite time of year. Aunt Elinor and I would go sing Christmas carols in the freezing cold, and then afterwards we make some hot chocolate that we shipped in from New York. Say - that is an excellent idea. Do you want to go sing Christmas carols? I don't think we can get any hot chocolate in these parts, but I suppose we'd have to make do with hot tea when we finish. Oh, that is an excellent idea, Newton. I'm so very glad you thought of it. Are you a baritone or a tenor?"

Mr. Call grimaced. It was another of her crazy schemes.

"I don't sing, so you can forget it."

"Don't tell me you're a base, Newton. My voice doesn't blend very well with a base."

"I'm not anything. I don't sing. Now leave it be."

"I bet you are a tenor. Your speaking voice is too high for you to be a base."

"God damn it, Maria. I'm not singing Christmas carols. Now that is final."

Maria never really expected Mr. Call to go caroling with her. He really was not the type to burst out into song. It was, however, a nice thought. She supposed Unbob would sing with her. His voice was a little low, though, Maria frowned.

"Well, I suppose I will sing to you on Christmas Eve instead. What do you want to hear?"

"I don't like to be sung to. You can forget that, too." Mr. Call's pale blue eyes stared into the frozen street.

Maria frowned at him. "Everyone likes to be sung to, Newton," she said quietly. "I don't have very many memories of my mother, but I remember her singing to me. She had a beautiful voice. She sang lullabies."

Mr. Call did not say anything. He looked as if he were remembering something.

"Did your mother sing to you?" Maria asked.

Mr. Call's whole body seemed to slouch. After a long moment, he answered, "Yeah. Not much, but she did."

That admission seemed painful for him. Mr. Call did not talk about his mother very much, Maria noticed.

"I don't remember much of what my mother sang," Maria said softly, "but I do remember one melody. It was so beautiful and simple. When she died, I didn't think I'd ever hear it again. I heard it when I went to live with Aunt Elinor, and I finally learned the words. Listen. It's really pretty."

She sang sweetly to him, as if she were singing him a lullaby, "He shall feed his flock like a shepherd; and He shall gather the lambs with His arm; and carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those that are with young."

Mr. Call only stared into the street, his pale blue eyes frozen onto one spot. "I heard that once in church with Hannah. Hannah liked that one."

Maria frowned. Her cousin's death left such a gaping hole in her family, and in Mr. Call, in particular. Maria felt like crying for him. "I wish that I knew Hannah, Newton," she said quietly.

Mr. Call said nothing. They both remained silent.

Maria thought that the conversation was entirely too serious. She decided to sing Mr. Call another song. She was about to start, "Carol of the Bells," when she noticed that Mr. Call's attentions were focused on the newly arrived stagecoach. By the appearance of the clouds overhead, it looked like the coach would be stranded in Curtis Wells for at least a week. Maria hoped that the passengers were intending an extended stay due to the coming storm.

Maria saw a curious thing. A blond woman stepped out of the coach. She was dressed like a man, and she looked fatigued from travel. She wore a short, heavy coat, had a gun belt slung on her hip, and she wore leather pants. The large, black hat that the woman wore did not hide her beautiful, dark eyes. Maria saw a look of anxiety on her lovely face as the stage coach driver handed her down a meager-looking bag. Maria truly wondered whether the woman wanted to be here.

The woman looked in Mr. Call and Maria's direction. The woman's eyes narrowed curiously at Maria, and then, as if his presence was a mystical force, her eyes instantly spotted Mr. Call. The woman looked almost surprised to see him, as if she was not expecting to see him this soon. She had a hint of sadness and disappointment in her demeanor, yet she held her head proudly.

Maria was flabbergasted. This blond woman apparently knew her cousin-in-law. Maria turned to see her cousin-in-law's reaction. Mr. Call looked temporarily stunned to see the woman. He quickly recovered, his cool demeanor returning.

Mr. Call stood up. He was within talking distance of the woman. Maria still sat on Mr. Call's bench, terribly confused, yet utterly fascinated.

"Mattie," Mr. Call greeted as nonchalantly as he could.

"Call," the woman returned, almost defensively. Unconsciously, she drew back her coat and placed her hands on her hips. The gun belt on her hip was obvious. The woman did not want to let down her guard.

Maria could feel the awkwardness between the two of them. She felt an intense need to leave the two of them alone. She stood up. She was about to excuse herself when Mr. Call suddenly spoke up.

"Didn't think you'd be back so soon," he said to the blond woman.

"It's been almost six months, Call.," she said, her voice tinged with a bit of hurt, as if expecting more from him. The woman sounded as if she was from the South. She did not have Mr. Mosby's accent, but she did have one, none the less.

Mr. Call only nodded. He did not look like he knew what to say.

The woman looked extremely annoyed with her cousin-in-law. Mr. Call looked even more aloof than he usually did. Maria felt like crawling in a hole. She did not belong here, yet Maria could not bring herself to interrupt their awkward conversation. Maria felt like something needed to be said between them. She did not want to break the spell. Mr. Call and the blond woman ignored her anyway. It was as if Maria was not even there.

"So what are you doing here?" Mr. Call finally asked the woman.

"I just need to settle some business with Mr. Wheating, that's all," she returned defensively. Mr. Wheating was the new gunsmith of Curtis Wells, Maria remembered. "And that's all I came back for."

Mr. Call shrugged. "No need to get your hackles up, Mattie. Just thought the way you pulled out of here, you wouldn't be coming back."

"Not that it would matter to you, now would it?" the woman asked, bitterness marring her delicate face.

Mr. Call kicked at a piece of ice on the walkway. "Sure it did, Mattie. Couldn't get bullets for a week."

The woman shook her head, as if it was a hopeless cause. "I see nothing's changed much," she said angrily, turning in the direction of the gunsmith. "See you around, Call." Then she turned back and addressed Maria, "I wouldn't wait around here, if I were you."

Maria only stared at her as the blond woman stalked away.

Maria looked at Mr. Call. For a brief moment, he looked painfully lost. He had an almost broken look on his face. Then it was gone. His aloofness returned.

Maria stood with him in silence. She waited for an explanation, but he was not forthcoming.

"Well?" Maria questioned him after an eternity.

"Well, what?" Mr. Call snapped back at her.

"Who was that?" Maria tapped her foot impatiently.

"Leave it be. You stay out of this, you hear me?" he muttered, walking away from her.

Maria frowned. This blond woman must have struck a nerve with him. Then Maria smiled. This was excellent news. It finally meant that Mr. Call was healing over Hannah's death.

This "Mattie" must have had some feelings for Mr. Call, too, by the way she acted, Maria knew. Something had to have gone on between them in the past. Something went awry. Something must have kept them apart.

Maria grinned. "Ah, young lovers," she sighed romantically. "Sometimes they just need a little help."

After all, Maria had no choice. She had to see to her cousin-in-law's interests.

Christmas, indeed, was the best season for match-making.


Maria had to find this "Mattie" person. She had to get to know the woman. She had to know the blond woman's romantic ideals. She had to know if the woman still cared for her cousin-in-law. And then she would work on Mr. Call.

Maria grinned. This was going to be great fun.

Maria stepped into the Lonesome Dove Hotel. It would be the first place any traveler would stop. Indeed, the blond woman was there. She talked with Miss Carpenter at the front desk. The two women seemed to be on amicable terms, much to Maria's chagrin. Maria did not like Miss Carpenter. Miss Carpenter had too much influence over Maria's cousin Austin.

"Mattie," Miss Carpenter smiled warmly, stepping around the front desk to give the blond woman a hug. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again, sugar. What brings you back here?"

Maria had to admit that Miss Carpenter was one of the most beautiful women in Curtis Wells. She did not understand, however, how Miss Carpenter could keep warm with her low-cut blouses. Maria sighed. Miss Carpenter must have had some magical corset that not only supported her fronts but also heated them as well. Maria wished she had a corset like that.

The blond woman hugged Miss Carpenter in return. "I have some business to settle with Mr. Wheating," she answered. "There's some loose ends with the gun shop that I've put off settling until now. I won't be staying long."

Miss Carpenter did not know what to make of that comment. She sighed. "Well, you're here now," Miss Carpenter smiled. "We can talk about old times."

Miss Carpenter was about to motion the blond woman over to a table when she noticed Maria observing them.

"Is there something you want, Maria?" Miss Carpenter asked with obvious disdain.

Maria knew that Miss Carpenter did not like her, and that was probably due to her relationship with Austin. Miss Carpenter barely tolerated him, let alone felt the need to accommodate his cousin. That was fine with Maria, just so long as Miss Carpenter stayed away from Austin.

"Actually, yes," Maria smiled at the hotel keeper. "I believe I left a book in my former room. Did, by chance, someone return it to you?"

Maria moved out of the hotel shortly after Thanksgiving. Austin finally relented and let her move back in the newspaper office with him and Josiah.

"Yeah," Miss Carpenter crinkled her nose. "Your book is over there." She pointed to a small bench behind the front desk. Then the hotel keeper dismissed Maria entirely, pulling the blond woman over to a table.

"So, Mattie, tell me what you've been doing," Miss Carpenter demanded as she sat down at a table.

It was rude to eavesdrop, Maria knew, and Aunt Elinor would never have approved, but this was for a good cause. She had to know more of this "Mattie" person. She had to see to Mr. Call's interests. Maria casually made her way over to the bench, trying to behave nonchalantly.

Maria also glanced at the register in passing. Spying was rude, too. But she had to know this woman's full name. It was for a good cause, after all. The blond woman signed her name as "Mattie Shaw."

She made her way slowly to the bench.

Miss Shaw looked suspiciously at Maria, and then dismissed her as she turned her attentions toward Miss Carpenter. "There's not much to say, Amanda," she smiled warmly. "I went to Miles City and opened a gun shop. It's not the same without Unbob, though." Miss Shaw looked worried. "Where is he? I didn't see him out. He's usually feeding his pigs this time of day."

"I don't know," Miss Carpenter returned. "But I wouldn't worry. I'm sure he'll turn up. He'll be happy as kid at a candy store to see you, I'm sure."

"I'll be glad to see him, too," Miss Shaw laughed.

That was good, Maria thought. Unbob was a very sweet man, and Miss Shaw should naturally have genuine affection for him. Miss Shaw's concern over Unbob proved to Maria that the blond woman was of a caring and compassionate nature. That was very good news for Mr. Call, Maria smiled to herself.

Miss Shaw sighed and looked around at the hotel. "Enough about me, Amanda. Tell me how you got the hotel back."

Miss Carpenter looked disgusted. "I don't have the hotel," she said bitterly. "Clay just lets me run it. He thinks he's keeping an eye on me. He wants to control everybody, but if he thinks he can do that to me, he has another thing coming. You know how he is."

Maria frowned. Mr. Mosby was out of town, surely on some mission to bring the railroad to Curtis Wells. Shortly before Thanksgiving, Austin sabotaged Mr. Mosby's chances to bring the railroad to Curtis Wells. Though Mr. Mosby could not prove it, he still had Austin beat up for it. Austin was barely recovering over his bruises.

Austin also sabotaged Maria and Mr. Mosby's friendship. He blackmailed Maria into dissolving her friendship with Mr. Mosby so she could learn why her uncle Josiah treated her in the indifferent way that he did. That hurt Maria tremendously because Mr. Mosby was her best friend. Mr. Mosby beating up Austin did not help renew any feelings of friendship between Maria and Mr. Mosby, either. Austin was family, after all, even if he still had not told her about Josiah.

However, Mr. Mosby's being out of town worried Maria. Even though she did not think well of him beating up her cousin, she still had compassion for the man. A storm was coming. She did not want to see Mr. Mosby freeze to death.

Maria sighed. She did miss his friendship. She missed having their morning cups together. She glanced over at their former table in the Dove. Mr. Mosby, indeed, was a good friend to her.

Miss Shaw glanced over to Mr. Mosby's usual table, too. She sighed. "Yeah, I know how Clay is," she answered Miss Shaw, resignation on her face.

Maria did not know what to make of that comment. Was Miss Shaw a friend of Mr. Mosby's? She would have to question Miss Shaw about that later - after their formal introduction, of course.

Miss Shaw stood up and left the hotel. Maria followed her. She did, after all, have to make her best effort to get to know the woman if she had any chance of matching Miss Shaw with Mr. Call.

Miss Shaw was, indeed, an enigmatic sort of woman. Getting to know her might prove interesting.


"All right," Miss Shaw demanded angrily, her hands on her hips. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

Maria felt embarrassed. She did not want to meet the woman like this. At first, she followed the woman in order to get to know her. Then she followed Miss Shaw in hopes that someone would give them a proper, formal introduction. She did not know that Miss Shaw had suspected that she was being followed.

Maria saw throughout the day that Miss Mattie Shaw was a well-liked person, or, at least amongst the Curtis Wells townsmen. Every man greeted her with a hello, and Miss Shaw smiled back at them. When Miss Shaw met Unbob, they had a joyous reunion in which they were both crying. There was such kinship among them that Maria wanted to cry herself. It was at that moment Maria wanted to formally know Miss Shaw, but she could not find anyone to introduce them. Unbob was beside himself, so he could not introduce them, and Mr. Call practically told her earlier he would not do it. Sometimes proper etiquette was an extreme bother.

Miss Shaw stood near the corner of the Opera and Theater of the West, waiting for an answer from Maria. It was there that she caught Maria unaware.

It was best to tell the truth in these kinds of situations, Maria told herself, or at least most of the truth that could be told. Maria knew from prior experience that the objects in a match did not necessarily like to know that they were being set-up in the first place.

"My name is Maria Bennett," she politely curtsied as instructed by her Aunt Elinor. "Please forgive me for upsetting you like this. I wanted to be formally introduced to you, but now - " Maria cleared her throat, embarrassed - "I see that is impossible. Please excuse my rude behavior."

Miss Shaw's dark eyes narrowed at her, looking over her quizzically. Then she shook her head, as if willing to let bygones be bygones. She held out her hand. "Mattie Shaw."

Maria took it, pleased. This woman seemed very tolerant. This was excellent news for Mr. Call.

"You were the one with Call this morning, weren't you?" Miss Shaw asked.

That was another good sign, Maria smiled to herself. Mr. Call was in Miss Shaw's thoughts.

"Yes, I was," Maria answered, smiling.

"I see," Miss Shaw nodded in understanding at Maria, though she did look a little disappointed. "Well, I hope he is happy," she sighed in resignation. She was silent for a moment, and then she asked awkwardly, "I hear he is doing well, then?"

Maria practically beamed inside. Miss Shaw wished Mr. Call no ill harm, and she previously inquired about his health to others. These were a very good signs.

"Mr. Call is doing quite well. He needs a pair of gloves, though. He doesn't have anything to keep his hands warm. Don't you think that's a pity, Miss Shaw?"

"Yes." Miss Shaw's dark eyes glanced down on the ground. Then her head rose, as if swallowing her pride. "But I suppose he has you to take care of that now. I wish you luck. The Call I know would never let you help him. You have your work cut out for you."

Miss Shaw must have supposed that Maria and Mr. Call were sweethearts. Maria practically laughed out loud. Mr. Call was like a brother to her. Though she knew she really should not do it, Maria wondered how jealous Miss Shaw would become. This would be the true test.

"Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Call has me to take care of him. It's the least I can do for him. He really is a dear. I told him so the other day, but you know how Mr. Call is. Tokens of affection make him nervous."

Miss Shaw looked as if she was remembering something. "Yeah, I'll bet," Miss Shaw said bitterly. Her lovely mouth twisted in anger. "So who's the new sheriff in town?"

Maria looked at her in confusion. She did not understand Miss Shaw's line of questioning. It had nothing to do with their conversation about Mr. Call.

"Never mind," Miss Shaw said, seeing the look on Maria's face. "I'm surprised that you'd want Call to bounty hunt. He's going to get himself killed one day."

The thought did disturb Maria, but Maria also knew that Mr. Call was more adept at handling dangerous situations than most men. She had to trust Mr. Call's abilities.

"I do think that Mr. Call really ought to change professions," Maria frowned. "It is rather dangerous. I suppose it's just another thing I have to take care of."

Miss Shaw shifted uncomfortably at the course of the conversation. "Well, good luck," she said, trying to dismiss herself.

Maria was considerably taller than Miss Shaw, and she blocked the blond woman's way.

Miss Shaw did not appear to get overly jealous. Maria supposed that might be a good trait on Miss Shaw's behalf - not a reflection of Miss Shaw's feelings for Mr. Call.

"I don't want to see Mr. Call get hurt," Maria told Miss Shaw protectively. "I only want to see what is best for him. His happiness is my chief concern."

Miss Shaw grew angry. "What makes you think I'm going to interfere with that?" she demanded, her hands on her hips. "There was never anything between me and Call, if that's what you're worried about. You can have him. He's all yours."

Miss Shaw tried to side-step Maria, but Maria did not let her. Miss Shaw's eyes rolled upwards impatiently. "What now?" Miss Shaw demanded.

"Mr. Call seemed," Maria cleared her throat nervously, "how shall I say this - rather emotional - this morning when he saw you step out of that coach. He doesn't normally act like that. Mr. Call must really like you, or he would never act in such a manner."

"Look," Miss Shaw said with as much patience as she could muster, "Call doesn't care anything about me. If he did, he would have stopped me from going to Miles City. Now are you satisfied? Leave me alone."

Once again, Miss Shaw tried to dodge Maria, and once again, Maria did not allow her to move.

Maria grinned to herself. This was very good. Miss Shaw's unrequited love for Mr. Call drove her out of Curtis Wells. Miss Shaw was going to work out just fine.

"You are just the kind of woman Mr. Call needs, Miss Shaw," Maria smiled at her. "Dear Mr. Call is like a brother to me, and it would give me great joy to seem him with a woman such as yourself. You appear to be smart, compassionate, caring, beautiful, and independent. These excellent qualities about you could only help my cousin-in-law. And Mr. Call would be perfect for any woman, I dare say." Then Maria crinkled her nose. "That is, once he takes a bath."

Miss Shaw shook her head, laughing despite herself. She looked at Maria curiously. "What did you say your name was?"

"Maria Bennett," Maria curtsied. "Mr. Call's cousin-in-law. He's a real dear, but he can be such an insensitive lout. You and I will have to work on that, won't we?"

Miss Shaw bit her lip, smiling. "You've got this all wrong. I didn't come back for Call. I have business to settle here. And that's all."

Maria looked at her skeptically. "Whatever," she said in disbelief. She took Miss Shaw's arm. "You and I are going to be great friends. I just feel it. Here - " she gestured her toward the hotel, " - let me buy you dinner. It's been such a long time since I've had a woman to talk to."

Miss Shaw politely declined, "No really, I'd like to, but I promised Unbob I'd eat with him today."

That made Maria even more pleased. "Of course. I wouldn't dare impose upon your happy reunion. Forgive my rudeness."

"Yes, well, thank you, Miss Bennett," Miss Shaw smiled awkwardly.

" 'Maria.' Please call me 'Maria,' Miss Shaw."

Miss Shaw laughed. "Only if you call me 'Mattie.'"

"Miss Mattie, it is then," Maria grinned.

Maria watched Miss Shaw walk towards the hotel. Yes, Maria smiled to herself, Miss Mattie Shaw was going to work out just fine.


Maria brushed the snow off her dress as she stepped inside the Lonesome Dove Hotel. Maria wanted to meet Miss Shaw that morning so they could discuss Mr. Call. They had a lot to talk about if Maria was ever going to match her cousin-in-law and the blond woman together. Ah, l'amour, Maria sighed romantically to herself.

Then she noticed Mr. Mosby. He sat at his usual table. He must have returned to Curtis Wells sometime during the night. Maria had to admit that she was relieved. Mr. Mosby had not been caught outside during the storm. She did not want the poor man to freeze to death.

He sat alone, eating his breakfast and drinking his coffee, looking rather out of spirits. Maria wished she could sit down beside him. She really did miss their morning discussions together. Too bad Austin had to go and ruin that, Maria thought to herself.

Mr. Mosby's golden eyes met hers. He nodded at her in greeting. She could only awkwardly return the gesture. Mr. Mosby did beat up her cousin Austin, after all. That kind of behavior could not be tolerated. Her dark blue eyes shifted nervously away from his.

Instead she focused on Mr. Call, who, apparently, decided to have breakfast there this morning. Maria wondered if his presence this morning had anything to do with Miss Mattie Shaw.

Maria grinned at him. Mr. Call looked a tad bit cleaner than his usual self. That was an excellent sign. The only possible explanation for Mr. Call's new-found hygiene was that he had to be in love. Mr. Call had cleaned up, and now he was waiting for Miss Shaw to come downstairs for breakfast. Maria practically laughed. Mr. Call was definitely falling in with Maria's plans for the match.

"Oh, Newton!" Maria exclaimed, sitting down at his table for just a brief moment. She did not want to intrude on a possible romantic encounter between Miss Shaw and Mr. Call. Maria just wanted to give her cousin-in-law some words of encouragement. "You look adorable! I always knew that you could be such a sweetie!"

Mr. Call grimaced in annoyance, then shook his head. His tolerance level was on an extreme low level at the moment. The bath water must not have agreed with him, Maria thought.

Maria could not resist herself. Laughing, she pinched his cheek affectionately. Mr. Call slapped her hands immediately.

"God damn it, cut that out," Mr. Call snapped.

Maria ignored him. "Oh, but Newton! Think how darling you'd be if you cut your hair!" Unlike some men, Maria knew that Mr. Call would look better in shorter hair. Then Maria frowned, thinking about her own short locks. She wished her hair would grow as quickly as her cousin-in-law's. Maria's light brown hair had grown only an inch in several months. It was discouraging, to say the least.

Maria shrugged that off. At least she could try to make Mr. Call appear more attractive for Miss Shaw's sake. "You ought to cut your hair, Newton. Get a shave while you're at it."

"I'm not doing anything of the kind, so you can forget it," Mr. Call growled. He knew she was scheming something. She had that look on her face.

"But you have such cute ears, Newton." Maria immediately tried to pinch his ear, but Mr. Call would not have it. He slapped her hand.

"Maria," Mr. Call said with great patience. "Don't you have anything better to do than to irritate me?"

Maria had a hard time keeping herself from laughing. Mr. Call was hilarious when he was annoyed. Maria loved to tease him mercilessly.

"Well, no, not usually," Maria admitted, chuckling. "Though today I really do have goals to accomplish for this morning. I'm afraid that I have to be going." She had better not mention it to Mr. Call, but Maria had to find some mistletoe. Mistletoe was a necessity for a romantic Christmas encounter. Miss Shaw and Mr. Call were bound for a kiss.

"Thank God," Mr. Call muttered. "I thought you'd never leave."

Maria laughed at him, patting him on the shoulder as she stood up. "You are such a dear heart, Newton."

Maria happened to be looking at Mr. Mosby's direction at that moment. He watched their interaction. He did not seem entirely pleased.

Maria did not know what to make of that. She sighed. Mr. Mosby was no longer her concern. Interaction between the two of them seemed impossible.

In the corner of her eye, she saw Miss Shaw descend the stairs. Quickly, Maria sat at an empty table directly out of Mr. Call's vision. Mr. Call would not like to know he was being spied upon.

Maria tried to behave as nonchalantly as she could while watching Miss Shaw make her way into the dining area. Maria smiled. Now she could see some real fireworks between the two lovebirds.

But instead, she saw something that she did not expect. Miss Shaw did see Mr. Call, all right, but she deliberately ignored him and proceeded to weave her way to a different table. When Miss Shaw noticed Mr. Mosby, her delicate face lit with a warm smile. Mr. Mosby recognized her, too, and his disgruntled appearance melted into a demeanor of tenderness. He smiled broadly at Miss Shaw, inviting her to sit with him.

Maria frowned deeply. This was not the way it was supposed to happen.

"Mattie," Mr. Mosby exclaimed with a broad smile. "I didn't know you were back in Curtis Wells."

It was rude to eavesdrop, Maria knew, but this was important. She had to know what the status was between Mr. Mosby and Miss Shaw. This could be the most alarming news that Maria had ever received in Curtis Wells.

"Well," Miss Shaw smiled shyly, "I'm only back until I can get things settled with Mr. Wheating. Then I'm going back to Miles City."

Miss Shaw really was a beautiful woman, Maria noticed. Maria wished she could be that beautiful.

"Now that is distressing," Mr. Mosby commented, his voice dropping to a husky timbre. His eyes drifted lazily over Miss Shaw's form. "Perhaps we can persuade you to stay. Things haven't been the same here since you left."

Maria frowned, growing quite alarmed. This was not good. This was not good at all.

"Well," Miss Shaw smiled, almost blushing. "I have missed a lot of the people around here."

Maria could tell by her demeanor that Miss Shaw missed Mr. Mosby's presence. Mr. Mosby returned the look.

Maria could not believe it. This could not be happening. This was horrible.

"But I really can't stay. Things just didn't work out here," Miss Shaw continued.

Maria grew angry. That was definitely true. Miss Shaw could not stay in Curtis Wells. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. Maria would be glad when roads were passable again. Then Miss Shaw could leave.

Then Maria told herself that she was jumping to conclusions. Perhaps Mr. Mosby and Miss Shaw were only good friends. Maria had to calm down. They were only good friends, she told herself.

"Well," Mr. Mosby smiled charmingly, "Perhaps fortune will see to it that you stay here, Mattie."

Mattie, Maria thought to herself. He called her, "Mattie." Rarely did Mr. Mosby call Maria by her first name. That made Maria spitting mad.

"Thank you, Clay."

And Maria never called him, "Clay." Oh, Miss Shaw had to go, Maria told herself.

Maria looked at Mr. Call. Maria thought he had every right to be as disgruntled as she was. Poor Mr. Call, Maria thought to herself. Miss Shaw was consorting with his most hated enemy.

But Miss Shaw was so beautiful, Maria frowned. Her delicate beauty suited Mr. Mosby's exquisite handsomeness. It was not fair. Maria felt entirely depressed.

But there had to be some hope for Mr. Call. He even got cleaned up today. And Maria could swear that Miss Shaw had some feelings for Mr. Call, too. She could not give up the hope that Mr. Call was on the verge of finding love. Now, more than ever, it was imperative that she get Miss Shaw and Mr. Call together. Miss Shaw could not be left idle until the snow melted. The blond woman could be in Curtis Wells for quite some time. Maria could not let anyone else snatch Miss Shaw but Mr. Call. Maria just had to redouble her efforts.

This was no longer fun. This was a mission. This match had to be made, or there would be hell to pay.


Maria was obsessed. The only way to get two reluctant people together was to provide them with the most romantic atmosphere as possible. Curtis Wells, in its rough-hewn state, was not the most ideal of settings. Maria had to make Curtis Wells look more romantic, more cozy, and more intimate. It needed to look like Christmas around here.

Maria recruited almost everyone she could think of. She bribed Mr. Ike and some of Mr. Mosby's men into getting some holly and decorating doorways. She paid a substantial portion of tent town into going out and cutting down tree limbs to make holiday wreaths. She used the dried flowers that she collected over the summer to decorate garland, which the boys and girls of Curtis Wells helped her hang about the town. She assembled a church choral group to sing Christmas carols. She arranged for sleigh rides which drove just along the outskirts of the town. She had Miss Twyla's ladies bake pies. She had the boys and girls decorate the Curtis Wells trees and build snowmen. She had the town drunks make eggnog and apple cider. No person in Curtis Wells was left idle. No building was left untouched. Nothing was to be overlooked.

But Maria would be damned if she would decorate the Ambrosia Club. There was no need to make that place more romantic. There was no need to tempt fate.

The targets in Maria's little war were not cooperating, however. Mr. Call stubbornly remained aloof, and Miss Shaw stubbornly refused to have anything to do with him.

It was the day before Christmas Eve. Time was running out.

This called for some serious battle plans. It was time to pull out the last of the reserves. She had Unbob find all the mistletoe he could muster. She was going to hang mistletoe everywhere. She was going to attack Mr. Call and Miss Shaw with romance. They would have no choice but to kiss, and that would be that. The war would be won.

"But why are we hanging all this mistletoe, Miss Maria?" Unbob asked as Maria put another stem of mistletoe in Mr. Wheating's doorway. Maria could swear she put several bushes of the plant above Mr. Call's bench, but it still did not do any good.

"It's supposed to be romantic," Maria said, her teeth clenched in worry. Miss Shaw and Mr. Call were supposed to show up here at any time. Maria separately arranged for them to meet her here. She hoped both of them would appear. They would both be in the doorway, and by convention, they were supposed to kiss. They would soon realize their true feelings for each other, and Mr. Call and Miss Shaw would fall happily into each other's arms. It was going to work. Maria could swear it was going to work.

"I don't understand how these plants are supposed to make people fall in love. I thought people just took a liking to one another, and it just sort of worked out that way," Unbob said, his child-like eyes opening wide.

"Sometimes people need a little help," Maria said a little impatiently. Where were they? "When two people get under the mistletoe, they are supposed to kiss. The whole concept is make them see what they are missing by being apart."

"That is kind of romantic in its way, ain't it, Miss Maria?" Unbob admitted, shuffling his feet.

"Yes, Mr. Unbob," Maria said absentmindedly.

Then she smiled. Miss Shaw just stepped through the gun shop door.

Then Maria frowned. Mr. Mosby stepped in right after her.

This had to be the most horrible day of her life.

"Look!" Unbob said to Miss Shaw and Mr. Mosby. "You're standing under the mistletoe. Miss Maria says that now the two of you have to kiss."

Maria did not know if she could stand it. The thought of Mr. Mosby kissing Miss Shaw was extremely painful. This was going to be torture.

Miss Shaw and Mr. Mosby looked at one another most awkwardly.

"But Miss Maria told me that it was the rule that you had to kiss under the mistletoe. She says that two people have to do it, or they'd be committing a crime. Isn't that right, Miss Maria?"

Maria did say that to Unbob earlier. Curse her blasted mouth, Maria thought.

Miss Shaw and Mr. Mosby looked to Maria.

She had no choice.

"It is the usual custom," Maria painfully admitted after a long moment. She looked into Mr. Mosby's golden eyes. Her own dark blue eyes began to mist. "Go ahead, Mr. Mosby. Kiss her. Kiss her."

He looked at her curiously, and then he proceeded to direct his attentions toward Miss Shaw. He tenderly caressed her delicate jaw, and he slowed pulled her beautiful mouth up to meet his.

Maria could not stand it. She closed her eyes, and turned her head away. The torture alone made her want to burst out in tears.

This could not be happening. This could not be happening.

Maria knew she had done something terrible. All of this was her own fault. Maria felt like she was going to be ill.

"Miss Maria, are you all right?" Unbob inquired in concern.

Maria was in her own quiet nightmare.

Miss Shaw and Mr. Mosby both looked a little shaken. At least the kiss was over, Maria thought.

Mr. Call was going to hate her, Maria concluded. She pushed Miss Shaw and Mr. Mosby together. Maria hated herself at that moment.

Miss Shaw was so beautiful, and Mr. Mosby was so handsome. They obviously suited each other. They made a fine match.

"I'm fine," Maria lied. Her face was very pale.

Miss Shaw cleared her throat, trying to regain some of her composure. "Why did you want to see me, Maria?"

Maria might as well admit the truth. "I want to buy a gun." That was her excuse to bring Miss Shaw here, but now Maria did really want to buy one. At least when Maria shot herself in the foot, it would be less painful.

"Why would you want to get a gun?" Mr. Mosby asked after a moment, he himself having to regain his composure. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Has someone been bothering you?"

How could she admit her own foolishness was the cause of her pain?

"No," Maria answered. Maybe if she bought the gun, Mr. Call could shoot her. That would make her feel better.

"I've never known you to have an interest in guns, Miss Bennett. It would be highly unlike you to have a revolver," Mr. Mosby commented.

"Perhaps you are right, Mr. Mosby. It was a stupid idea."

It was. This matchmaking scheme of hers was a terrible, stupid idea. Maria should have known better.

"Well, I'll leave you alone now," Maria said quickly, unable to withstand the torture of being in their presence any longer. She ran out of the building.

Miss Shaw and Mr. Mosby made a handsome couple. It was obvious to the world.

Mr. Call was definitely going to hate her.

Maria moaned. She went too far. That mistletoe idea exploded in her face. She had to get rid of all that mistletoe. It was too painful of a reminder.

She hoped Mr. Call would not be too bitter when Mr. Mosby and Miss Shaw got married. Maria only hoped he could forgive her eventually.

This was horrible.

Of course Mr. Mosby had to enjoy Miss Shaw's kiss. She was so beautiful. Maria wished she could look like that.

This was hell.

She ran directly into Mr. Call.

"What the - " Mr. Call began.

Maria did not know why, but now she was suddenly very angry at her cousin-in-law.

"Why couldn't you cooperate?" Maria demanded furiously. "I swear, half of this is your fault! You don't even have sense to pull Miss Shaw into your arms and kiss her. You are a fool, Newton Call. The very least you could have done was been on time. You could have stopped all of this from happening. Now it's just one big mess! I hope you're happy, Newton Call!"

"Maria, what the hell are you talking about?"

Maria had better not tell him about Miss Shaw and Mr. Mosby. He would know soon enough.

"Why couldn't you love her, Newton?" Maria asked him, tears forming in her eyes. "Why couldn't you just be with her and love her? That could be all that any woman could ask. Why? Why?"

Mr. Call did not answer her. He seemed to understand that she was speaking of Miss Shaw. He wore that same broken look on his face as he had when he first saw Miss Shaw. Then he shrugged away Maria entirely and walked away from her.

Maria still wanted to know why. Why did Mr. Call refuse to love Miss Shaw?

The bell on the church rang. It seemed odd to Maria. It never pealed, except on a Sunday, and even that was a rare occasion.

It echoed the only answer that Maria knew in her heart. Hannah had never really let go. Hannah never really let go of Mr. Call.

Tears dropped freely from her eyes. Mr. Call could not be matched. Hannah was his life, even after her death. Hannah could not die for him. That was the real tragedy. No woman could take over the role of wife because Hannah never left that place.

This whole matchmaking scheme was a stupid idea. Maria should have known better. Maria should have known that Mr. Call had not healed over Hannah. Maria should have known that this was not going to work.

Maria wiped her eyes. She had to hope that maybe one day things would work out for Mr. Call. Mr. Call might know love again eventually.

There was only one thing that she knew for certain. The sooner that mistletoe came down, the better.


The night of Christmas Eve was the perfect time to do it. While everyone was singing Christmas carols at the bonfire that she had arranged a week ago, Maria would take down all the mistletoe. Bonfires were supposed to be romantic, Maria thought bitterly. She did not particularly understand why, but she arranged one for Mr. Call and Miss Shaw anyway. Now to her bitter disappointment, she hoped that Miss Shaw and Mr. Mosby could share a romantic interlude. She hoped they choked on it.

There was only one consolation. At least Mr. Mosby would not be alone any longer. She did wish happiness for him. That was the very least she could do for him.

Maria wiped another tear from her eye. This was truly ridiculous, she told herself. She should not being crying over something in which she had no control.

Maria was in the livery. She had not even left that place untouched. Mistletoe hung from all the rafters. She had to have a ladder to even reach it.

Maria cursed herself, throwing down a some stems on the hay-strewn floor. All this work for nothing. She should have known better.

To her fright, the livery door swung open. Everyone was supposed to be at the bonfire. She had not expected anyone to interrupt her.

The ladder shifted precariously as Maria tried to regain her balance. She was going to fall. She started to cry out.

Whoever it was that interrupted her steadied the ladder at the base. She was infinitely relieved. She climbed down as quickly as she could on very unsteady legs. Her heart pounded furiously. She had been saved from some broken bones. Her very life could have possibly been saved.

She turned to thank the stranger, only to find out that it was Mr. Mosby.

What was he doing here? Maria wondered.

"Mr. Mosby, shouldn't you be at the bonfire?" Maria demanded.

He wore his leather duster and black gloves. Maria had the sudden urge to run.

"One might ask you the same question, Miss Bennett," Mr. Mosby said coldly, his breath visible in the frigid air.

"I don't like fires."

Maria lost her family in a fire, and her back had been burnt a long time ago. Mr. Mosby knew that.

Mr. Mosby said nothing.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Mosby?" Maria asked quietly, repeating her own thoughts.

Mr. Mosby gestured to his horse. "I was going to - "

He looked quite exasperated. "Never mind what I was going to do. What the hell do you think you're doing? It's the middle of the night. Anyone could just come in here and catch you unaware. You're lucky it was just me, Miss Bennett. You could have been killed," Mr. Mosby paused, looking quite angry, "or worse."

Maria looked down on the ground. He was right. "Yes, well, thank you for saving me, Mr. Mosby."

He shook his head, rubbing his mouth in frustration. Then he noticed all the mistletoe on the ground.

"Doing a bit of redecorating for Call, Miss Bennett?" he asked, bitterness in his voice.

That mistletoe was a sore subject for her.

She watched Mr. Mosby approach the horses.

"No. If I ever see another strand of mistletoe again, I'm going to be sick."

"Your romantic plans did not work out then, I take it," Mr. Mosby commented dryly, gently stroking the muzzle of Mr. Call's horse, the Hellbitch. The white mare seemed to enjoy Mr. Mosby's attentions.

"You could say that," Maria sighed, hoping that her tears did not fall.

"Call is not worth your time."

Maria wiped away a tear, smiling, when Mr. Call's horse neighed in protest over that statement.

"Mr. Call is a good man. I wish him happiness and joy."

Mr. Mosby was silent. He left the Hellbitch and approached his own dark horse.

Maria picked up the ladder and moved it over to another rafter. She had to get that mistletoe down. Mr. Mosby was a distraction.

"I noticed that you left my own establishment barren, Miss Bennett. I'd like to think that was an oversight on your part, but knowing you, I'm sure that it wasn't."

Maria had no need to worry about the Ambrosia Club any longer. Miss Shaw and Mr. Mosby were together now. It did not matter if that place looked more romantic.

"I'll make a wreath especially for you," Maria said, hoping that she did not sound as if she was whimpering. "I'll put some dried flowers on it and some ribbons. It will look very pretty." Maria could imagine how pretty it would be while it hung on the door as Mr. Mosby and Miss Shaw embraced in the doorway. Maria bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. "I'll even put a big pink bow on it."

She could hear Mr. Mosby curse.

She turned towards the ladder. If she did not stop this, she would be sobbing.

She started to climb the ladder, but she felt her arm being gripped.

"Come down from there," she heard Mr. Mosby order.

"Mr. Mosby," Maria protested. "Really, I need to get this done."

He ignored her. He pulled her off the ladder as if her weight was inconsequential to him.

"Damn you," Mr. Mosby cursed at her, jerking her closer to him.

His expression alarmed her exceedingly. He stared at her, his golden eyes most intense.

Her own dark blue eyes filled with panic. Maria never liked to be grabbed. Mr. Mosby knew that. He was there that awful time when she was nearly raped. He knew that she could not tolerate a situation in which she could not move. The memories of that awful time always resurfaced. She had to try to stop them before they took control of her.

Mr. Mosby saw the terror in her eyes. Fortunately for her, he also knew what to do to calm her. His hands tenderly and gently stroked down the length of her back, much like Aunt Elinor used to do when Maria had nightmares so long ago. She sighed, tears forming in her eyes from his comfort. But this felt different. It felt more intimate. It felt like heaven.

Maria could not let Mr. Mosby go without feeling this same, magnificent way. Her arms wrapped around him, caressing him in the same manner. He felt wonderful. She tried to bury her nose in his chest, but her glasses were in the way. Sometimes it was a curse to be near-sighted.

Mr. Mosby gently pushed her away from him. "Maria," he whispered, tenderly stroking her jawbone. Surprisingly, the leather of his gloves was soft. Mr. Mosby shook his head, as if was against his better judgment, and then he took off her glasses. He threw them in the hay where she had placed her muff earlier that evening.

"Look at me," he ordered her. His hand cupped her jaw. She had no choice but to look into his beautiful golden eyes. She could see him clearly. He was that close. Sometimes it was a blessing to be near-sighted.

"What is it, Mr. Mosby?" she asked. She suspected he was going to do something wonderful. She suspected she was going to be kissed. She practically jumped for joy. Mr. Mosby was absolutely divine. There was no one in Curtis Wells she would rather kiss. This was going to be heavenly.

Mr. Mosby did not look as if he knew what to do. His eyes glanced up at the rafters as if appealing to the heavens for some excuse. Then he grinned most wickedly at her when he found it. "I am going to kiss you, Miss Bennett." His voice dropped down to a husky pitch. "After all, you yourself have given me that right." His eyes drifted up to the rafters.

That damned mistletoe again, Maria thought to herself. And here she thought he was boiling over with passion for her. He was merely fulfilling a Christmas tradition. It was not fair.

"Oh, very well," Maria pouted, bitterly disappointed. "Get it over with." She held her head up proudly, closed her eyes, and puckered her lips.

He laughed at her. "After all, it is the usual custom," he commented dryly, seeing her reluctance. "You wouldn't want to go against convention, now would you?"

He was mocking her now. "Oh, shut up and kiss me," Maria ordered irritably, her eyes still closed. She puckered her lips again.

She heard him chuckle as his hands pulled her face toward him. When his lips finally brushed over hers, she felt an odd tickling sensation run from the edge of her lips down to the small of her back. Maria could not help giggling. Mr. Mosby pulled from her and gave her a stern look, and she apologized, nodding for him to continue, while trying to maintain her composure. When his lips touched hers again, Maria broke out into giggles.

Mr. Mosby pulled away in exasperation. "For God's sake, what is it?" he demanded.

Still laughing, Maria replied, "It's your beard. It tickles."

Mr. Mosby shook his head in exasperation as he ran a hand through his hair. "Are you suggesting," he wondered incredibly, "that I shave off my beard so I can kiss you properly?"

That thought sobered Maria quickly. "Heavens, no," Maria vehemently denied. She could not help herself as her hand reached out towards his face. She tenderly stroked his jaw as if it was a work of art. "Your beard frames your face so lovely. It brings out the beautiful gold in your eyes. It'd be a shame to -" Maria stopped herself, yanking her hand away from him, realizing in horror what she was saying and doing. That was highly inappropriate behavior, Maria told herself. She hid her criminal hand behind her, holding on to it with her other hand for dear life. There would be no more traitorous actions on its part.

Clearing her throat, she tried to turn the conversation as his eyes looked upon her with a softened expression. "Besides, Mr. Mosby, I don't think I can kiss you. You're entirely too funny."

That did not exactly come out the way Maria intended. His beard made her giggle, not him personally. She knew that she had better rephrase her last sentence, but it was too late. Now, Mr. Mosby's pride had been pricked.

His butternut eyes pierced her dark blue eyes with steely determination. He meticulously took off his leather gloves, edging towards her. She swallowed, nervously backing away, only to back into the ladder. He absentmindedly threw his gloves on the ground. She had no where to go at that moment. He reached for her. The tender caress of his hand cupping her cheek made her forget what she was doing. She realized she could move away from him at any time, but she was paralyzed.

"Come here, Maria," he whispered to her. She would not have denied him the world at that point, but she was frozen solid. Instead, he edged closer to her and continued caressing her chin, with his thumb slowly making its way to touch the fullness of her bottom lip.

Maria gasped when she felt it. The warmth of the his thumb on her lip lit a spiritual awareness inside Maria. It alarmed her so much that her body became entirely stiff. "Mr. Mosby, I don't think - "

"Sshh." His thumb moved over both her lips to silence her. It worked. Maria could only stare at him in wide-eyed amazement. "Relax," he soothed. "Just feel."

His thumb then slowly and delicately traced the outline of her lips. Maria had never been proud of their fullness in the past, but now she was enjoying them thoroughly. Every slow movement of his thumb sent shivers of life through her. It was something she had never felt before, and the newness of the sensation brightened her eyes with wonderment. She loved this.

Maria looked into Mr. Mosby's eyes, but his golden eyes were focused on her lips in absolute concentration. Maria closed her eyes and let out a small, satisfying moan as she felt all his tenderness and care slowly edge its way over her lips. Maria then wanted to give to him what he had been giving her. She waited until his thumb finally reached the corner of her mouth. Pouring all the delicacy, tenderness, and warmth into her lips, Maria gently kissed the entire length of his thumb. She could not believe the satisfaction it gave her.

"Maria," Mr. Mosby whispered, surprised. Her lips stopped over the edge of his thumb, and she looked into his eyes. He looked pleased. Oddly, gratitude overwhelmed her. Smiling, her fingers reached out to touch his lips. She wanted him to know how lovely it felt, to thank him for making her feel this glorious. Instead, it sent a warmer emotion to her. A tingling flush grazed over every nerve of her skin. His warm breath and the velvety life of his lips convinced her that he was a majestic angel. He descended from a warm and beautiful place to relieve her from her coldness and darkness. The man was a warm and beautiful heaven. Maria knew it could not get any better than this.

She was wrong. He inhaled sharply when her fingers touched his lips, and he closed his eyes as if savoring some tenderness he had long forgotten. Then his thumb renewed its initial purpose, with all the softness his determination could muster. She gasped when his thumb parted her mouth and slowly edged over her teeth. Happily moaning, Maria's fingers boldly sought to give him the same satisfaction. When she felt and saw his tender smile, Maria knew she could die a happy woman.

Then, to her surprise, Mr. Mosby gently pulled her toward him. When his lips finally settled on hers, kissing her with the same thoroughness and intent as his thumb, Maria felt something new and startling. Maria was in love. The emotion was overpowering, and it overwhelmed her heart. She had to give him this. She had to give him all of her affection. Her lips sweetly moved with his. He pulled her closer to him, and she wrapped her arms around him.

Maria felt herself melt away, and she did not try to stop it. It was something so wonderful - this life that he was giving her - that she rejoiced over her lack of control. She told him so with the caress of her lips upon his. She loved this dark angel, and she wanted to tell him so.

When Mr. Mosby pulled away, Maria did not notice. Even without his arms around her, she felt him. Even without his touch, Maria felt that the hum of their blood coursed to the same, sacred rhythm. In weakness, she leaned against the ladder and blushed. "Oh, my," she unconsciously voiced the first thought in her head as she slowly recovered.

Mr. Mosby did not say anything to her at first. He was shaken, and he looked as if he was trying to regain his control.

"That was a mistake, Miss Bennett," he said rather coldly. "I knew better than to do this. It was my mistake. I take full responsibility. It won't ever happen again."

He stalked away from the livery.

Maria frowned. By heavens above, that kiss was no mistake. Now Maria had a different mission. She followed him into the night.

"Mr. Mosby, come back here!" she demanded.

He turned towards her. "Miss Bennett, we are not going to discuss this, all right?" he said impatiently. "Leave it alone." He began to turn away from her again.

"How can you say it was a mistake?" Maria demanded. "You can't deny what just happened there. I'm sure it wasn't as glorious for you, but it felt like heaven to me. You can't just deny what we felt - "

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation," Mr. Mosby interrupted her, his tone of voice dry. "Miss Bennett, I said 'leave it be,' and that is final. Not another word, do you hear me? Not another word."

He really left her alone that time.

She stomped her foot and went back inside the livery stable. She picked up the remaining mistletoe and gracefully placed it into a garbage heap. She left the remaining mistletoe on the rafters. There was no need to take it down now, Maria smiled.

Then she picked up her muff, her glasses, and Mr. Mosby's gloves. She gently stroked her cheek with his gloves, blushing at remembrance of how he made her feel. Yes, Maria had a new mission now. It did not matter what her family thought of that man. Maria and Mr. Mosby's fates had been decided on Christmas Eve, 1880. There was no point trying to elude destiny, she sighed happily. She decided then and there she was going to marry Mr. Mosby.

"Hallelujah," Maria sang, her face broke out into a wide grin.

Stables were wonderful places, Maria thought with reverence, bowing her head.

It was a heavenly Christmas, indeed.

END
December 1997

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