Thirteen

December 26

T. J. awakened to the sound of a crow’s cawing. As he opened his eyes, the sun streamed in through the window, and the room filled with light and warmth. He lay on his back, and Madison was curled up next to him with her head on his shoulder.

He squeezed her once, and she made a contented little purring sound. He kissed her on the forehead.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“No, I don’t want to.” She snuggled even more closely against him. “I want to stay right here, just like this.”

“Have you noticed something?” T. J. asked.

“What?”

“Judge Ragsdale didn’t come down the hallway waking everyone up this morning.”

“Uhm-hmm,” Madison murmured. “Very decent of him to let us sleep in, I would say.”

T. J. looked at his watch. “It’s after nine o’clock! I can’t believe he let us sleep this late.”

“Nine?” Madison asked. “Oh, my, we’d better get dressed and get downstairs quickly. I’m sure the kids have been awake for a long time. I don’t want them bothering anyone.”

T. J. got out of bed and walked over to look through the window. “What in the world?”

“What is it?”

“The snow is gone.”

“Well, it was beginning to melt a little yesterday, so I’m not surprised.”

“No, I mean all of it is gone.”

Madison walked over to look through the window.

“Well, look how bright the sun is. I’ve seen the sun melt snow very quickly,” she said. “Especially if it’s warm, and it feels like it is.”

“I suppose so,” T. J. said. “It just seems strange that there isn’t even any snow in the shadows.”

“Well, I’m just as glad,” Madison replied. “We’re going home today, and I wouldn’t want to drive back down the mountain with snow on the roads.”

“Nor would I,” T. J. agreed. “Assuming, that is, we can drive at all. If I can’t get the car started, we may have to talk someone into taking us into town, or at least to someplace where I can get a signal on the cell phone.”

T. J. and Madison dressed, then went downstairs. Expecting to see everyone seated around the breakfast table, they were surprised when they looked into the dining room to find it empty.

“Hello?” T. J. called. “Where is everyone?”

Sylvia came out of the kitchen and into the foyer. Despite the fact that she was wearing an apron, there was a dusting of flour on her dress.

“Good morning,” she greeted them. “I’m making fresh biscuits for breakfast. And if you don’t mind leftover ham, I thought I would just fry up a couple of pieces for you. How do you like your eggs? Fried soft or hard? Or maybe you would prefer them scrambled?”

“Uh, fried soft,” T. J. said. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, they’re all gone. Except for Angus and Cora MacLeod, that is,” Sylvia replied. “They waited around for you, so they could take you back to Mercedes.”

“The children,” Madison said a little anxiously. “Where are the children?”

“All the children are gone as well,” Sylvia said. “Except for Emma, of course. She’s in the keeping room with Timothy and Christine. You have fine children, Mrs. Carmichael. Emma is quite taken with them.”

“Why, thank you. I’m sure you are aware that Emma is Christine’s new best friend.”

“Well, Emma couldn’t ask for a finer friend than Christine. The children have already had their breakfast, but you may go say good morning to them while I’m getting your breakfast ready. Mr. Carmichael wants his eggs soft. How do you want yours?”

“I don’t think I want any eggs, but if you have any of that sourwood honey left, I would love that with my biscuits,” Madison said.

“Then that’s what you shall have,” Sylvia replied, going back into the kitchen. “Oh, and there’s coffee already on the table.”

“Coffee? That sounds good,” T. J. said, starting toward the dining room. “You want me to pour you a cup, Madison?”

“Not just yet. I’m going to check on the kids.” Madison walked toward the keeping room.

Timmy, Christine, and Emma were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace playing pickup sticks. It was apparently Emma’s turn, because she was busily picking up the sticks while Timmy kept an eye on the proceedings.

“Good morning,” Madison said.

Christine hopped up and ran over to embrace her mother. “Good morning, Mama. Boy, you and Daddy slept a long, long, long time.”

“We sure did.” Madison returned her daughter’s embrace. “Did you two sleep well?”

“I did.”

“Dermott and everybody else went home,” Timmy said. He didn’t take his gaze away from the pile of sticks.

“So I see. You did tell Dermott good-bye, I hope?”

Timmy shook his head. “I couldn’t. They were all gone when we woke up this morning.”

“You mean you didn’t even wake up when everyone left?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I’m glad you had a good sleep. It means we are all well rested for the drive back home.”

“That stick moved!” Timmy pointed out to Emma, who without argument relinquished her turn.

“I see you’re enjoying a game of pickup sticks,” Madison said.

“Yes, ma’am, but that’s not what they call it here,” Timmy said. “They call it jackstraws. Isn’t that a funny name for pickup sticks?”

“It’s a funny name, all right. Are you kids about ready to go? We’re going to start back home right after Daddy and I have our breakfast.”

“Okay,” Timmy said.

“Mama, can Emma come visit us sometime?” Christine asked.

“I can’t come,” Emma said.

“Sure you can. If my mama talks to your mama, I’ll bet she’ll let you come visit me,” Christine said.

“No. I can never go where you live,” Emma said. “None of us can.”

“ Mama, go talk to Emma’s mama and see if she’ll let her come.”

“No, sweetheart, Emma is right. She can’t come where we live.”

“Why not?”

“Because where we live is very . . . different from here. I don’t think Emma would care much for it. You remember, don’t you, when you wanted to make a pet of that squirrel?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What happened?”

“I had to let the squirrel go.”

“Uh, huh, and do you remember why?”

“Because the squirrel wasn’t happy.”

“Right. And he wasn’t happy because where you brought him was so different from where he lived. If you hadn’t let him go, he might have died. Do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s like that for Emma. There is just too much of a difference between her world and ours.”

“Do you mean Emma might die if she came to visit us?” Christine asked in alarm.

“Well, no, I don’t mean to say she would die,” Madison corrected quickly, to make certain that Christine didn’t misunderstand her. “But she would be awfully unhappy.”

“Sweetheart, breakfast is on the table,” T. J. said, coming into the room.

“I’ll be right there.”

“Mom! Dad called you sweetheart.” Timmy smiled broadly. “He hasn’t called you sweetheart in a long time.”

“That’s true,” T. J. said, putting his forefinger under Madison’s chin and lifting her lips to his for a little kiss. “But I promise you, it won’t be a long time before I call her sweetheart again.”

“That means I got my Christmas wish, doesn’t it?” Timmy said happily.

“Yes, honey, it means you got your Christmas wish,” Madison said before she walked away.

“Hooray!” Timmy cheered.

“What Christmas wish is that?” T. J. asked as he and Madison walked to the dining room.

“I’ll tell you sometime,” Madison answered, putting her arm through his.

T. J. set the luggage down in the foyer, just in front of the door.

John and Sylvia Ragsdale joined them there. “I’m so glad you could spend Christmas with us,” the judge said. “I hope you found it enjoyable.”

“Enjoyable?” T. J. replied. “Judge Ragsdale, this has been the most memorable Christmas of my entire life. I still want to pay you, though.”

“Nonsense. I told you when you arrived that you were my guests. My very special guests.”

“Well, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just realizing that you two have worked everything out between you is all the thanks I need.”

T. J.’s jaw slackened. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you are no longer moving apart.”

“No, we’re not. But how did you know that we were ever having troubles in the first place?”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have discovered that your love is as strong as it ever was. And you have decided to start attending church again, which will be a wonderful thing for helping you keep your marriage together.”

“All right now, Judge, you are beginning to freak me out. How do you know so much about us?”

But the judge just gave them a cryptic smile. “What is important is that you were here, at the right time and place, to save young Dermott Duncan’s life, to strengthen your marriage, and to find salvation for your soul. It was all God’s plan. They do say God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.”

“Yes, Mr. Ragsdale,” Madison began, “but—”

“Oh, I see that Angus has brought his carriage around,” the judge interrupted, pulling the curtain aside to look through the narrow vertical windowpane that paralleled the front door. “He will take you back to where he found you.”

“Oh, by the way, I meant to ask you. Is there someplace nearby where I can get a mechanic?”

“You won’t need a mechanic.”

“I sure can’t repair it. It’s all I can do to change a tire.”

“Have a little faith, my boy,” Judge Ragsdale said. “Have you not seen God work His miracles these last two days? All will be well.”

“Judge, as they sometimes say in my business, from your lips to God’s ear,” T. J. said.

Ragsdale smiled. “Now you understand,” he said. “And remember: through God, all things are possible.”

“All right, I’m going to hold you to that.” T. J. called into the keeping room for Timmy and Christine. “Come on, kids! It’s time for us to go!”

“I’ll help you with the luggage,” the judge said, reaching down to pick up a couple of the suitcases. T. J. got the other two, and they went out front to the carriage, which was sitting in the circular driveway in front of the house. Madison and Sylvia Ragsdale stood there already.

“It has certainly turned into a beautiful day,” Madison said.

As Timmy and Christine climbed into the carriage, Madison noticed that she didn’t have her doll with her.

“Oh, Christine, have you forgotten the beautiful doll you got for Christmas?”

“I didn’t forget, Mama. I gave her to Emma.”

“You did?”

“Yes, ma’am. Emma broke the face on her doll, so I gave her Britney. Is that all right?”

Madison walked over to Emma and hugged her. “Of course it’s all right. It is more than all right. It is very sweet of you to do that.”

“I’ve got lots and lots of Barbie dolls, but Emma doesn’t have any, so I thought it would be okay.”

“It’s very much okay.”

T. J. helped Madison into the carriage, then he climbed in behind her. As the carriage pulled away, they turned to wave good-bye to the Ragsdales, but John and Sylvia were no longer standing on the front porch.

“They sure went back inside in a hurry,” Madison commented.

T. J. said, “Well, if you had just had a house full of guests for two days, wouldn’t you be about ready for some downtime?”

“Yes, I believe I would.” She put her arm through T. J.’s arm. “I love you, Timothy Jerome.”

“And I love you, Madison Elaine.”

When they reached the car, it was still sitting on the side of the road, exactly as they had left it.

“Well, at least it hasn’t been vandalized,” T. J. said, as the carriage drew even with the car.

“Did you think it would be?” she asked.

“I was a little concerned, yes.”

The carriage stopped just in front of the car.

“Mr. MacLeod, I can’t thank you enough for all you have done for us this last couple of days,” T. J. said. “You were literally a lifesaver.”

Angus nodded, but said nothing in return.

“Madison, would you get that suitcase? Timmy, you get that one, and I’ll get these two.”

“What should I get, Daddy?” Christine asked.

“You can bring the toys.”

After they climbed down from the carriage, T. J. pointed his key ring remote toward the car and clicked it. The trunk opened.

“Hey!” he said happily. “How about that? Maybe the judge was right. Maybe everything is working.”

T. J. and the others walked around behind the car to load the suitcase and packages into the trunk. They couldn’t see the carriage, because the open trunk blocked their view.

“Mr. MacLeod, don’t leave until I’m sure I can get the car started,” T. J. called out. He slammed the trunk. “I wouldn’t want to . . .”

The carriage was gone.

“What in the world?” T. J. said, looking around. “Madison, did you see him leave?”

“No, I didn’t. Where could he have gone this quickly?”

“I don’t know, unless there’s a turnoff just ahead.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Well, if I can get the car started, it doesn’t matter.”

“Do you think you can?”

“The fact that the remote worked to open the trunk gives me hope.” T. J. pointed the remote at the doors, and once more it worked, unlocking all four doors.

T. J. slid behind the wheel and put the key in the ignition. “Christine, say a little prayer for us,” he said.

“Dear Lord, please let Daddy get the car started,” Christine prayed.

“That ought to do it,” T. J. said as he turned the key. The car started instantly.

“Hooray!” they all cheered.

“Christine, from now on you are our go-to person for designated prayer,” T. J. said.

“T. J., look—the GPS is working,” Madison said.

T. J. glanced at his cell phone. “And so is the cell. I see that I have a message from Evan.” He picked up the phone and started to punch in a number. Halfway through he stopped and turned off the phone.

“What’s wrong?” Madison asked.

T. J. smiled at her. “Nothing is wrong,” he said. “Whatever message Evan has for me can wait.”

Madison kissed him.

“Buckle in, kids. We’re going home.”

“T. J., let’s drive back up to Gracehall for a minute.”

“Why, did you forget something?”

“No, I’m just curious to see the house one last time.”

T. J. turned the car around and started back down the road. Very quickly, they reached County Road 4, then started up the road toward Gracehall.

“Are you sure this is the right road?” Madison asked.

“Yes, I’m sure. The sign said County Road 4.”

“It doesn’t look the same.”

T. J. looked around. “No, it doesn’t, does it? For one thing, I don’t remember those power lines.”

“And look at that house over there. It has a satellite dish.”

“Well, it’s a cinch they don’t belong to Judge Ragsdale’s group. We probably just missed it before. After all, we were worried about the car.”

“That’s true. And, I do remember this turn. The house will be right—”

T. J. slammed on the brakes so hard that the car skidded to a stop.

“T. J.!” Madison gasped. Her voice was a cross between shock and fear.

“I don’t understand this,” T. J. said. Like Madison’s, T. J.’s voice reflected awe and confusion.

T. J. turned the ignition off, and they sat there, staring through the windshield.

The house in front of them was Gracehall. That was obvious by the Corinthian columns, the curved driveway, the gables and cupolas with which they had become so familiar over the past two days. The mill house and waterwheel further identified the property.

But there the similarity ended. The house they were looking at had not seen a paintbrush in years. Most of the windows were boarded over, and those that were not showed broken panes of nearly opaque glass. Loose boards hung from the porch ceiling.

The mill house was even worse. Half its roof was missing. Only about half of the waterwheel was intact, and it had fallen from its axle and was tipped over against the plume. The millpond had dried up.

“Mama, Daddy, what happened to the house?” Christine asked.

“I don’t know, darling. As God is in heaven, I don’t know.”

T. J. opened the door, and the key-in-the-ignition warning began dinging.

“T. J., what are you doing?”

“I’m going to have a look inside.”

Madison reached for him. “No, darling, please don’t. Let’s get out of here.”

“Madison, you know there’s a logical explanation for this. There has to be.”

“If there is, let’s find it somewhere else. T. J., this place is giving me goose bumps.”

“All right,” he said, closing the door. The dinging stopped. “Wait a minute, the cell phone is working now. Give me the Christmas Past brochure. I’m going to call that number again.”

“Call them while you’re driving,” Madison said. “I want to get out of here.”

“All right.” T. J. started the car. Using the circular driveway, which was still there but overgrown with weeds, he turned the car around and started back.

Madison opened the glove compartment and looked inside. “Did you move the brochure?”

“No.”

“It isn’t here.”

“Look in the console.”

Madison opened the console and moved things around as she looked.

“Not here.”

Madison had Timmy look around in the backseat, but he also came up empty-handed.

“What’s the name of that town that’s closest to here?” T. J. asked. “Possum Hollow?”

“Right. Okay, let’s go there.”

“Where will you go, to the police? ‘Excuse me officer, but my family and I just spent Christmas in a house that looks like nobody has been in it for a hundred years?’”

“No, not the police.”

“Where then?”

“We’ll start at the library.”