Ted was fascinated by the play of emotions flashing across her face. “Mr. Bristol,” the stiff and reserved engineer and businessman, had fled as he thought of that laughing imp. Her letters had bewitched him but the photograph had made him fall in love with her. And here she was, more beautiful than ever and clearly that woman, the joyful girl, not the shattered image he’d imagined when his anxieties had overcome him at his first sight of the infant.
He inwardly cringed at the thought of the emotions that had flooded him, the disillusionment, and feelings of worthlessness, despite his knowledge of the man he’d become. The tongue-tied and teased boy he had once been had instantly believed the worst of her, having so often been disappointed by others in the past.
But here she was, full of life and evident humor as she flashed him the grin from the photograph and he fell in love all over again.
“Oh, dear, we seem to have gotten off track again,” she blurted.
“Oh, no,” he drawled languidly, “I think this time we got it exactly right!” And he raised her hand to his lips as he bowed over it, and kissed it firmly. She could feel the flush running up her arm and overwhelming her as she suddenly wished for a fan.
That fan arrived in the form of Sra. Suarez, bustling in with a tray upon which rested an elegant and ornate sterling coffee service and a pair of beautifully decorated porcelain coffee cups. Setting the tray on the table beside Megan, she smiled at the two of them and whisked back out of the room, after reassuring Megan la preciosa had eaten and was now asleep.
Ted realized he was still holding her hand and, giving it a brief squeeze, released it. “Will you do the honors . . . Megan?” he asked, pointing at the tray with his chin.
She smiled a bit tremulously but quickly busied herself in the familiar routine, adding two lumps of sugar and just a dash of cream, as he had described in his letters. Having tried it that way at home, she’d decided that it was quite delicious so prepared, and taken to enjoying the same blend. She marveled at the richness of the flavor, somehow tastier than she recalled from home.
Ted had retreated to the chair across from hers. She’s right, if the preacher doesn’t show up, she really cannot stay here. But I wouldn’t feel comfortable having her stay at the hotel without at least a maid, if at all. That means I would have to stay there! He grimaced internally.
“So tell me what you have learned of the baby’s father and his whereabouts,” prompted Ted.
Megan filled him in as best she could, sharing what Moses had known and speculated, as well as some of what she’d gleaned from the letters and journal during the train journey.
As they relaxed in each other’s company, the ease with each other that had developed in their correspondence became replicated in person and their smiles became more frequent. Megan even found herself flirting a bit, as if at a soiree with an eligible beau. She caught herself, realizing that she was, in fact, engaged to be married to the man sitting across from her.
~~~
The front door knocker rattled and they could hear Miguel talking to the visitor, followed by the clomp of boots on the hall floor.
“Esta aqui, el padre,” announced Miguel as he opened the door with a flourish and Father Rubio, in full cassock, strolled in.
“La señora me dijo . . . perdóname,” he continued in English, “Mrs. Suarez explained you were in need of my services. I just learned that Reverend Bates has been delayed.”
Sra. Suarez came bustling back in. Really, that is the only way to describe her abundant energy, thought Megan.
“You dress now! I help!” she smiled at Megan, moving to help her up from the settee.
“Just one moment, please.” Ted had arisen when the priest walked in the room, and now placed his arm on his housekeeper’s. Turning to the priest he smiled.
“Father, you don’t know how much I appreciate your offer to help. But there is a question that needs to be asked first.”
He smiled broadly, again, at each of them, then turned back to Megan who was watching, bemused. She’d managed to set down her coffee cup and now sat, hands folded in her lap, ankles crossed, much in the same pose as the photograph.
Reaching into his vest pocket, he dropped to one knee and opened the box now resting in his left hand, then reached for her left hand with his right.
“Miss Megan Eugenia Maddux, would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?”
Eyes brimming with tears of joy—it all felt like a fantasy!—she smiled at him, nodding her head, and responded softly, “I would be ever so delighted to marry you, Mr. Theodore Alexander Bristol.”
He kissed her hand again—was it only a few minutes ago he’d done so?—and withdrew his fingers briefly, to pry the ring from its box, and slide it onto her finger. She stared in awe at the small but exquisitely cut clear yellow stone. It fit a bit loosely but she vowed to wrap a bit of yarn about it to keep it snug. She raised her glowing eyes to his.
“This was my mother’s ring. It is a yellow diamond. I understand they are rather
