Nicholas almost fell on his back at the sight of Sister Beatrice, hardly believing his own eyes. And judging by the surprised sound she made, neither could Noelle. The Sister was smiling softly, clutching at the coat she wore as she tried to ward off the ever-increasing cold. The snowfall behind her cast a strange picture of an angel, the little flurries serving as strange depictions of her make-believe wings.
He stepped aside quickly, ushering the woman inside before their angel froze to death on their very own porch. As hopeful as he wanted to be, Nicholas had seen the way she’d looked at him before he’d left. He had known it would be a long shot to go see her and try to convince her, when she had been so adamant in her decision from the first moment she’d found out about their deception. So he kept his expectations low, prepared himself for another verbal scolding, and angled himself to protect Noelle from the same. He would not tolerate this woman tearing his wife down again.
“I apologize for just barging in this late in the afternoon,” Beatrice said, glancing around the home. All traces of Carol had been tidied up but not removed from where they had originally been kept. Nicholas had only wanted to help Noelle with the transition, not remove Carol from their lives and thoughts completely. Something flickered in the Sister’s eyes.
“It’s no worry at all, Sister,” Noelle assured her. “Would you like something to drink? A cup of tea to warm your hands perhaps?”
Sister Beatrice nodded, smiling with gratitude as she took the seat Nicholas offered to her, sinking right into the cushions of the sofa opposite to the one they’d been seated on. She extended her hands to the fire, seeking its warmth. Noelle was back in only a moment, the kettle still hot from where he’d made tea for her just moments before.
“How can we help you, Sister?” Nicholas asked, scooting over to make space for Noelle. Sister Beatrice didn’t miss how he tucked Noelle into his side, or how she placed her hand on his knee. His wife’s eyes were wide, her focus solely on the Sister. If Beatrice saw how run-down she was, she didn’t show it.
“Firstly, I would like to apologize to the both of you,” Beatrice started, taking a deep breath before she continued. “The way I acted, and the way I spoke to you—it was horribly unprofessional, and it was unkind.”
Noelle drew back, sitting against the back of the sofa and his arm now, clearly surprised by the Sister’s willingness to apologize. Nicholas had to admit that he was, too. Sister Beatrice did not look like a woman who admitted to doing wrong very easily.
“After you left, Nicholas, our dear friend Pastor Hastings came for a visit.” She took a sip from her tea, closing her eyes against the warmth that spread through her belly. Pastor Sam had visited the orphanage? “He spoke to Mr. Banks and me about what had transpired between us all, and why Carol had been taken when she’d been cared for so diligently.”
Nicholas’ eyes widened of their own accord. Noelle glanced up at him, confusion marking her features, possibly twin to his own. Pastor Sam had spoken to them about Carol? He knew what had happened, why she’d been taken away. They turned back to Beatrice as she continued,
“He raised some particularly interesting points that he felt we should be made aware of, as did Nicholas. And I fear that I might have judged you two too quickly.” Nicholas could hardly believe his ears, could hardly hold his breath at the possibility of what was about to happen. Beatrice set her cup down on the coffee table in front of her, and smoothed her hands down her dress before she admitted, “I feel like I have made the wrong decision regarding Carol’s adoption, and her residence here.”
Noelle clutched at his hand, her nails digging into his palm. Nicholas barely felt it, could barely think around the rapid pounding of his heart in his ears. It couldn’t be, could it? Had God truly granted them this Christmas Miracle? Had they truly been blessed by His fortune?
“I would like to return Carol to your home and to your care, if that would please you. I think she would like it very much to be reunited with people who evidently love her very much. I understand my behavior has not been seemly, but I do not think the child should be denied a home becau—”
“Yes!” Noelle exclaimed, moving to grasp Beatrice’s hand across the coffee table between them. “Yes, Sister. We would love to have her back.”
Nicholas nodded when the Sister’s eyes settled on him, her face surprised but delighted as Noelle still clutched at her hand. Tears welled in her eyes, her face pulled in a mixture of joy and tears as she nodded again. Sister Beatrice squeezed his wife’s hand again, smiling down at her. It was the first time he’d seen the woman smile at anyone but the children she cared for, and he was the first to admit that she truly was beautiful.
That was when Nicholas realized that Beatrice had not been the villain all this time; that she had not broken his wife’s heart and separated their family because she wanted to or because she had set out to from the beginning.
Sister Beatrice was simply a woman who cared deeply for the children she looked after, who loved them just as their adoptive parents did, and who wanted the best for them after they’d had a horrible start at life. She was not a woman out for blood and wrecking families where she went. She was a woman who sought only the best for her charges, and would fight tooth and nail, would ruin her own likeability, to make sure they got just that.
Nicholas gazed at Beatrice with newfound respect, the woman returning the sentiment when their gazes met. Noelle sat back against him, her face alight with a smile for the first time in days. He gazed down at his wife, overcome with joy and love and gratitude. She looked up at him, her eyes once again alight with the possibilities their future now held.
“I will return Carol to you tomorrow morning at the earliest convenience,” Sister Beatrice said, standing, and smoothed her hands down her robes. “We all know how she likes to sleep in.”
They all laughed, Noelle’s a bit more breathless as the rest of them. His wife stepped forward, her hands clasped together. “Thank you for your kindness, Sister Beatrice. You were not unkind with your words before. You were simply a mother who sought to protect one of her children.”
Sister Beatrice’s eyes shone with a sheen suspiciously close to tears; but she blinked them away quickly. She nodded, squeezing Noelle’s hands before she walked towards the front door. They escorted her out, and Nicholas remained on the porch to see her safely down the path before he returned inside.
Noelle was in the living room, gazing at the door as he entered. He stopped right in his tracks, smiling broadly at her and bellowed his laughter when she sprinted and jumped right into his arms. They laughed joyously, Nicholas spinning her in the air, her hair creating a curtain of red as they spun.
“She’s coming home, baby,” he hollered. “Our baby is coming home!”
Noelle laughed and lowered her head, kissing him deeply when he stopped spinning. They kissed each other passionately, Nicholas clutching his wife tightly against him as they shared in their joy. For the first time in his life, Nicholas Birch didn’t want for anything to be different.
***
He didn’t know which of the two of them woke first, or woke up more excited. Nicholas and Noelle were both up and dressed before they knew it, making pancakes and eggs and a breakfast spread that would have Carol jumping for joy when she saw it. Granted, it would be cold depending on when Beatrice brought her home, but she’d be happy, nonetheless. Minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days.
Both Nicholas and Noelle were fighting the urge not to pace by late morning, their limbs jittery with anticipation, and their eyes glancing at the pathway leading to the ranch house every other minute.
“This is torture,” Nicholas said, slightly annoyed. “Absolute and unadulterated torture.”
Noelle snorted. “Tell me about it.”
Nicholas’ eyebrows shot up his forehead at the sound, not because she laughed, but because she snorted. Catching his look, Noelle rolled her eyes.
“Oh please,” she said, “You’re the last one to judge me about my laugh.”
His mouth fell open. “Is that so?”
Noelle nodded and leveled her pointer finger at him, “You sound like a donkey seeing a mare for the first time.”
Nicholas burst out laughing, absolute shock and denial making his mouth fall open once again. Noelle shrugged, giving him a less than remorseful look. “The truth hurts, pal.”
Nicholas shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Okay, honey. Whatever you say. Guess we’ll be a family of donkeys and pigs then,”
Her head snapped towards him, eyes narrowed and a reluctant smile on her face. He shrugged as she had, allowing his insinuation of her laughing like a snorting pig to hang in the air. Nicholas sat forward and smiled conspiratorially.
“Have you noticed Carol laughs a lot like one of the chickens you have in the coop?” He said, whispering as if the little girl might hear him. Noelle’s eyes widened, and she pointed at him again.
“That’s what it is! I’ve been trying to figure out what it sounds like with no such luck!”
They laughed again, Noelle gasping. “A family of donkeys, pigs, and chickens then!”
A fit of laughter overtook them, both Nicholas and Noelle clutching at their stomachs in an attempt to stave off the cramps that plagued them. The house around them seemed to echo with it, the reverberations of their joy sinking into the walls like a memory into their minds.
Just as they caught their breaths, silence descended once again, and they heard the clumsy clamoring of a buggy over the less snowy pathway leading up to the house. Noelle and Nicholas both went rigid, quiet as the mice that sometimes plagued the barn and bit the chickens in their coops. When they were certain of what they heard, it was a race to see who could be out the door the fastest.
On the porch they could see the buggy ambling down the pathway to them, little Carol coming into sight as she leaned over the buckboard to wave at them. Noelle made a broken sound, her hand flying to her open mouth as she realized that this was truly happening. Tears swam in her blue eyes, his own blurring his vision. Nicholas felt his own heart soar, his little girl ever more beautiful as she smiled broadly.
They both broke into a sprint at the same time, their feet slipping slightly on the melting snow as they clamored down the path. Their boots crunched on the ice as they went, their arms pumping and their breaths coming in rapid bursts. Nicholas’ heart pushed against his chest, wanting to burst from his ribcage and soar on the winds of pure joy.
Noelle was making small whimpering sounds as she ran in front of him, her dress fluttering behind her, hair a trail of copper in the bright morning sun. Carol started yelling now, squealing in excitement like a little piglet instead of the chicken they’d just accused her of being.
The distance between them all felt like miles, unending miles that kept them from each other for much longer than was necessary. As his legs ate it up, he willed them to go faster, wanted the winter winds to scoop them up and carry them to each other.
The air rushed by his ears, the tips of his nose freezing in the frigid cold of winter. Carol shouted, jumped up and down on the buggy, screamed, squealed, and cried as they did. Nicholas’ lips trembled as they came closer and closer and closer, inch by agonizing inch. It felt torturously slow, even though they were running as fast as their bodies allowed. Noelle was yelling now too, and a smile broke his face.
Sister Beatrice smiled as they came running, sharing in their joy and relief; but they paid her no heed when the buggy stopped, and Carol jumped from it. Her tiny legs flailed in the air for a moment, her white dress making an umbrella as she fell from the buggy.
She yipped and her hands hit the path a moment before she, too, started running. Barely on the ground and she was ambling toward them, the same desperation that overtook them, surging through her little body, forcing her legs to run faster than he thought possible. Tears streamed down her face, her blonde curls bouncing as she ran and ran and ran.
They had not seen her for what felt like months. Days without her laugh or her never-ending stories felt like decades. The absence of her light having left them in the dark with no light and no map to find their way again. But now she was back, and they would be a family again. Their little girl was back, and she was theirs and no one else’s.
Carol reached Noelle first, jumping into his wife’s arms a moment before he cascaded into them, crushing them in a bear hug. Snow and mud stained their clothes as they sank to their knees, breaths ragged, and cheeks wet as they finally got to hold each other again.
Relief crashed through them as they had crashed into each other, laughter and sniffles filling the air as their love did. Carol clutched at both of them, her tiny hands gripping at their clothes as if she could pull them into her very soul. Nicholas crushed them against his chest, folding them into the V of his legs as if he could shield them from everything that threatened to separate them ever again.
They were together again, and Nicholas could not hold back the sob that escaped him. Noelle looked up, cupping his cheek as she too sobbed and laughed, all at once. Love and devotion shone in her eyes, gratitude and absolute joy making them sparkle like snow in the sun.
Nicholas turned his face and kissed her palm, an unspoken promise shining in his own.
They were together. And they’d never be separated again. Never.