Chapter Nine

 

"I want to see Maria."

Lina's expression was questioning. "Don't you want to eat first? It's been ready—"

He shook his head, leading the way toward the stairs. The need to see his daughter was more important to relieve than his hunger. "In a bit, Lina. I just want to look in on her. Such a miracle—as Esteban said. He was right—"

Lina stopped at the foot of the stairs, her expression stricken. "Esteban Montoya?"

"Yes." Miguel's look became somber at her concern. "Why?"

Lina bit her lip. "You—went to the mission?"

He smiled. "See how desperate I was to get those ribbons? I thought the priest might know—Lina, what's wrong?"

"Miguel, we have not had a priest here for over six months." She took a shuddering breath. "Esteban Montoya was killed in the spring, by Federales."

"Lina…" How could this be? "I talked to him…" His words trailed away, and he leaned against the banister for a moment, trying to make sense of this day. He didn't believe in miracles. Life had been rough and hard, and he knew he was lucky to be alive—but he was here by no "miracle;" rather, his own skill with a gun and a measure of luck.

Lina took his arm and he turned to look at her. "Others have seen him, too, Miguel. But you are the only one he has spoken with. They say Christmas Eve is—"

"A night when miracles occur," he finished for her, thinking of Esteban's words.

"Yes. I believe that. It is a miracle you are here; a miracle that you and Padre Esteban were able to talk together—"

"A miracle you still love me."

She smiled at that. "No, that is not a miracle. You are the love of my life. I knew that when I watched you ride away the last time." She reached up to touch his cheek, and he kissed her palm, holding it close to his skin.

"I wish I had known, too."

Lina nodded toward Maria's door. "Come on. We'll look in on Maria then have our dinner."

"Maria—she's the most unexpected gift I ever received." When he thought of the unconditional love Maria had held in her heart for him all the years of her young life, he felt unworthy all over again, and an incredible self-doubt shrouded his soul once more.

Lina laughed softly. "Is that how you see her? As a gift?"

They reached the top of the stairs, and Miguel turned Lina to him before they went into Maria's room. "Lina, I see this day as a gift. The fact that you waited for me—your love—is a gift."

"You've always had it."

Tears sparkled in her eyes, and Miguel was ashamed of the heartache he'd caused her. He pulled her close, holding her in his arms.

"You won't ever be alone again, querida. As long as you want me, I'm here to stay." It was all he could think of to say to her, to let her know it was her choice, this time.

Her fingers tightened at his waist and after a few seconds, she nodded, lifting her head to look into his eyes. "I will never stop loving you."

Miguel smiled at her serious pronouncement. "That might be enough to make me believe in miracles, Lina."

He turned to push Maria's door open, and together they walked inside.

Moonlight spilled through the window, like a stairway to the stars. From where she sat among the silvered moonbeams in the middle of her bed, Maria turned as they entered. She held up two ribbons of deep, rich scarlet, the very ribbons Miguel had bought earlier. Beautiful, fine ribbons, fit for a princess.

Miguel's chest clenched. He did not believe in miracles. But where had they come from? How had they gotten here? There was no explanation. If he lived to be a hundred, he'd never know where those silken ribbons had come from. The breath rushed out of him as he knelt beside the bed, and Maria hugged him, the ribbons clutched in her small hands. Her eyes…her beautiful brown eyes were shining with sight once more as she looked up at him. A miracle he could neither deny, nor understand. There was nothing left to do but to accept what this day had brought to him, and he embraced it, at last.

"Scarlet ribbons, Papa! The most beautiful scarlet I've ever seen! And with a cross here, on the back!"

His own eyes stung and blurred with tears of thanks as he looked closely at the gold etched stitches. A detail he had not noticed before… A detail which, without a miracle, might not be seen by one who had been blind for so long.

 

The End