He nodded. “Of course I do. I’m thrilled to not have to do the books anymore, the store is making more money than ever, and John is doing what he wants to do. How could I complain?”
“Then why don’t you want me to stay? Why do you think I should go back to Massachusetts?” She finally asked the question that hurt her more than anything.
“Because I could see you were sad. You’re not happy here.”
She blinked at him a couple of times, trying to understand him. “What do you mean I’m not happy here? I’m happier here than I’ve ever been in my life! I love having the freedom to do more in the store. I love the new friends I’ve made. Why would I want to go back to a place where I have no one, and there’s a man trying to force me into a marriage I don’t want?”
“You really don’t want to go back?” Mortimer felt as if his heart was beating double-time. He wanted her to stay so badly, but only if it was what she wanted. He couldn’t make her stay against her will. Her happiness was more important than his.
Toria shook her head adamantly. “Of course I don’t want to go back! I love the freedoms I have here. I love that I have a home and someone to cook for.”
Mortimer smiled. “Good. I wasn’t sure how I was going to let you go back, but I couldn’t keep you here if you weren’t happy.”
“I’m not happy feeling like I’m constantly competing with a ghost—or an angel, as the case may be—but you’ve explained that’s not the case. I know you don’t love me the way you did her, but maybe in time that will come.”
He shook his head at her. “It already has. I love the way you take care of me. I love the way you treat my son. But most importantly, I love you. I couldn’t bear it if you wanted to go back east, but I wouldn’t stop you, because your happiness matters more to me than mine does.”
“Really?” Toria could hardly believe her ears. “You love me? Even though I’m not a tiny little blonde?”
“I love you for you. If I hadn’t been so convinced that you would look just like her, I would have seen your beauty that first day. As it was, it took me a little longer because I so badly wanted you to be her. I wasn’t willing to accept you for you.”
She reached out and took his hand with hers. “I love you too, Mortimer. I was afraid to say it, because I thought you might just laugh in my face. Now that I’ve seen Grace, I can understand why she was so appealing. She was so beautiful.”
“So are you, but in a different way. I find your strength and your confidence very appealing.” He used the hand he was holding to pull her into his lap. “You are the woman who completes me in a way Grace never could. I love you with everything inside me, Toria Jackson.”
The smile that spread across her face at the moment seemed to make her entire face shine. “I love you too, Mortimer. I’m so glad I’m your wife.”
He buried his face against her shoulder, confidant in his future for the first time in years. When he lifted his head, he saw Grace standing behind her, smiling as tears rolled down her face. She nodded once and disappeared. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be seeing her anymore.
Toria threw herself into Christmas preparations the way she did everything else in life. She and Mortimer went out and found a Christmas tree that she asked him to carry back to their home. She popped popcorn and strung the kernels to make pretty garland to put on the tree.
She made candy and cookies, most of which they had to sell in the store, because even John and Mortimer couldn’t eat as much as she made. She gave small gifts of candy to all of her new friends, and she even took one to the pastor on Christmas Eve.
She loved going to service on Christmas Eve. Truly, everything about the holiday thrilled her. As she walked home from the service with the two men in her life, she smiled, knowing she had done her best to have special gifts waiting for them under the tree. And for Mortimer, she had the most special gift of all. She just had to wait until Christmas morning to tell him, if she could hold out that long.
When they got back to their home, she reminded them both to hang their stockings.
“That’s for children!” John protested.
“Well, I have things to put into both of your stockings, so if they’re not hanging in front of the fire, I won’t be able to put anything into them. I would think you’d want the presents, whether you were a child or not.” For Toria, the stockings were an important part of Christmas. If he didn’t want to hang one, that was fine, but he wouldn’t get his gifts.
He shook his head at her, but he found a clean sock from his room and hung it by the chimney. “There. Are you happy now?” He leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Toria. I hope it’s half as wonderful as you deserve.”
She smiled at him, watching as he headed off for bed. She turned to Mortimer. “You go to bed, too. I need to put out the presents, and I don’t want you seeing what you’re getting.”
Mortimer just shook his head. He’d long since realized she was obsessed with Christmas, and there was no point in arguing with anything she had to say.
Once she was finished, she looked around the room, making sure everything was just perfect for her first Christmas in her new home. Her first Christmas as a married woman. Her first Christmas she’d cared about in many, many years.
Early the next morning, Toria got up early to fix breakfast. She was determined to make the men’s favorite before they were up. So she went into the kitchen and mixed up the batter for pancakes. As usual, as soon as the smell of bacon filled the house, both men stumbled into the kitchen.
She poured them each a cup of coffee, but drank milk herself. After their breakfast, she took them excitedly into the parlor, watching as John got down on the floor and pulled gifts out for all three of them, dividing them into piles.
Her favorite gifts had always been the homemade kind, so that’s what she gave, carefully working on socks and scarves for both men while they worked. In their stockings she’d put some of the candy she’d made, excited to see their reactions to it.
She’d gotten a gift from each of the men, and she opened them slowly, savoring the experience. It had been so long since she’d had a real Christmas that she wanted to remember every single moment of this one.
From Mortimer, she received a string of pearls, her eyes widening. “They’re beautiful!”
He smiled. “I thought you needed something pretty to wear to church on Sundays.”
“I love them.” She immediately fastened them behind her neck, happy that he’d thought to get her something so personal.
When she opened John’s gift, it was a pair of leather gloves, soft as could be. “These are perfect! I’ll wear them happily.”
Mortimer stood up, walking to the window. “It looks like we’re snowed in today. Big storm.”