By the time they returned to Gracehall, the dinner table was filled with food. Judge Ragsdale offered the blessing.
“Lord, bless this food to our use, and ourselves to Thy service. We thank Thee for this bounty, we thank Thee for the opportunity to gather with friends, old and new. In Christ’s name we pray.”
A large baked hen anchored one end of the table and a honey-glazed ham the other. In between were all the ingredients needed to make a Christmas dinner worthy of the name: dumplings, cornbread dressing, squash, green beans, white peas, corn, applesauce, hot rolls, pecan pie, pumpkin pie, and fruitcake. For the next few minutes there was little sound save the clinking of utensils against china.
“Everything looks so delicious,” Madison said. “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much food. How are we ever going to eat all of this?”
“I learned a long time ago that if you just take your time eating, you can eat more,” the judge advised.
“Mrs. Duncan, how is Dermott doing?” Laura asked.
“Why, he’s as full of vinegar as ever,” Cynthia said. “To look at him, you’d hardly know that he nearly drowned this morning.”
“I’ll bet he doesn’t try to do another handstand on the waterwheel,” Cora said, and the others laughed.
“Don’t you worry about that, Cora,” Cynthia replied. “I would sit on him before I let him try that again.”
After a long, leisurely dinner, which included samples of more than one dessert, the party moved once again into the keeping room.
The Yule log had burned down, but a sliver of it had been carefully salvaged to be used to start the Yule log next year. The fire was once again built up with fresh wood, so that the entire room was bathed in its warm orange glow.
The chestnuts the men had gathered the day before were now roasted in the fire and, after a while, pulled out and distributed. The rest of the evening was spent in quiet conversation until, once again, pallets were laid out for the children. With that, the adults said their good nights and went up to their own rooms.
When they reached their room, T. J. picked up the bed warmer.
“What are you going to do with that?” Madison asked.
“Same thing I did last night. I’m going to warm the bed.”
Madison stepped up, leaned into him, then put her hand up against his cheek. “We don’t really need a bed warmer, do we? I mean, if we have each other?”
“Do we have each other?”
Madison pulled away from him and walked over to the bed. She turned the covers down, then turned back to face him.
“Yes, we have each other.”
“And this other business, this ‘problem’ we’ve been facing?” T. J. asked.
“If we put our . . . heads . . . together,” she said with a smile, “I think we can work it out. Don’t you?”
“I’m sure we can,” he replied, happily closing the distance between them.
This time they were not separated by the bed. On the contrary, it was an invitation, and they met in a loving embrace to experience the passion that had been rekindled earlier in the day when they’d kissed on the mountaintop, under the mistletoe.