Chapter 27

Chapter 27

"Merry Christmas, everyone. I want you all to tuck in. There's plenty to go around. Just help yourself," Tiffany said, leading the party into the dining room, where the table was laden with all manner of good things to eat.

Tara, Tiffany, and Gina had been working hard in the kitchen since returning from church that morning, and the house was filled with the delicious smells of roasted meat, sweet spices, and baking. Roasted duck, pigeon, and prairie hen stood proudly on silver platters, alongside dishes of preserved vegetables and fried potatoes.

There were jars of pickles, a mincemeat pie, and a large fruitcake. But the crowning glory was a platter of oysters on cracked ice, proudly shucked in the center of the table. As he entered the dining room, Thomas rubbed his hands together with glee and grinned.

"This is what I've been waiting for all year," he said.

Kyle, who had been in the parlor with the sheriff and Randy, looked down in amazement at the table before glancing at Tara and smiling.

"How did you get oysters out here?" he asked.

"When they're wrapped in seaweed and kept on ice, they keep long enough to get here fresh. It's only possible in the winter, and even then, I had to pull a few favors to get them," Tiffany replied.

The Fentons lived in a large house attached to the sheriff's office. It was one of the oldest houses in the town, and upon moving in, Tiffany had insisted on having her own kitchen to cook in—her mother and grandmother having both been excellent cooks, and from whom she had inherited a natural flair for the culinary arts. But today, she had outdone herself, and the feast they sat down to would have been worthy of any table in the country.

"That's just wonderful. I've never seen anything like that," Kyle said, sitting down in front of one of the platters of roasted birds.

"And you can say that for certain now," Thomas joked.

There was much for them all to be thankful for as they sat down to share the Christmas feast. Kyle sat next to Tara, and as they ate, the two of them shared the occasional glance, catching one another's eye and smiling. Tara felt content—more so than she had done in a long time.

The night before, she had slept deeply, safe in the knowledge her ordeal was over. She had come so close to disaster, rescued at the last moment by the man who now sat at her side. She owed him everything, and, though her own modesty prevented her from admitting it openly, she knew he felt the same way about her. He had said as much.

She was his savior, and he was hers.

"I'd like to propose a toast," Thomas said, after they had eaten their fill.

He rose to his feet, and Tiffany hurried to top off the glasses of the guests.

"What are we going to toast?" Gina asked, and her brother smiled.

"I'm going to toast each of you in turn. To my dear wife, for providing us with this delicious meal. To my sister, for her hard work and dedication to the food drive. To Randy, who, thanks to the extra donations given after the theft, can remain in Freemont and make an honest woman out of my sister. And lastly, to Tara and Kyle—for simply being here," he said.

"You're forgetting someone," Tara said as the party clinked their glasses together. "Two people, in fact. First, yourself—for not holding a grudge against me for slapping you across the face."

"It's all water under the bridge," Thomas replied. "But that's all of us."

"No… there's one more person. John Smith. If it wasn't for John Smith remembering who he really was, we wouldn't be sitting here. To John Smith," she said, glancing at Kyle and smiling.

After the meal was over, they played games, and Tiffany sat down at the piano. Songs and carols were sung, and they exchanged small gifts, after which Tara and Kyle took their leave, thanking Thomas and Tiffany for their kind hospitality. The streets were quiet as they walked arm in arm back to the homestead—families enjoying the celebrations, and the sounds of laughter and singing emanating from behind brightly lit windows as the snow fell around them.

"I've got a present for you, too," Tara said as she opened the gate into the yard.

"And I've got one for you, too. Don't you remember the surprise I mentioned?" he asked.

Tara had forgotten all about it, and now she looked at him in surprise, not having dared to believe he would even be there for Christmas, let alone under the circumstances they now enjoyed.

"You traveled thousands of miles to be with me, Kyle. You didn't have to get me anything," she said, but he shook his head.

"I wanted to. Come this way," he said and, taking her by the hand, led her to the farthest of the outbuildings—a place where Tara kept broken bits of farming equipment, and other pieces of junk.

She hadn't been in there for years, and she looked at Kyle with a puzzled expression as he pulled back the bolt on the door.

"But… what's in here? I didn't know anything about this," she said.

"I've been working on it at night since I got here. It's not finished yet; I didn't think I'd have a chance to. But it won't take long," he said, pulling back the door to reveal a beautiful bobsled.

It was incredible—fashioned from smoothed-down pieces of wood, with a place to sit. The sleds curved up to create a place to harness the horse. It was perfect, and Tara clapped her hands together at the sight, shaking her head as Kyle smiled.

"Do you like it?" he asked, and Tara threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

"I love it. My father was always talking about building me a sled like this. He said I could use it make my nursing rounds in the winter. It'll be perfect for Stanley to pull me up the ridge, and along the trail," she replied. "And we can ride in it together, too."

The thought of the two of them dashing through the snow on the open sled was ever so romantic, and Tara was keen to try it out immediately, despite Kyle repeating it wasn't quite ready.

"I don't want it to fall apart with us on it," he said, but Tara insisted, and after he had checked the frame over, he nodded, telling her to fetch Stanley so they could test the sled for the first time.

"We just have to go easy with it. You ride in it, and I'll lead the horse."

It wasn't long before Stanley was harnessed to the sled, though he looked somewhat bemused at the sight of it. Tara had fetched blankets from the house and, sitting in the frame, she wrapped herself up as Kyle handed her the reins.

"This is wonderful, Kyle," she said, and he grinned at her.

"Merry Christmas," he replied. He led Stanley out of the gate and through the snow.

The sled picked up speed, and Tara felt the rush of cold wind on her face. It was exhilarating, and with its little bell jingling, the sled soon attracted the attention of passersby. As they approached the coffeehouse, Tara waved to those eating their Christmas meal there, and as they drove past the church, she saw Reverend McGuire standing on the steps. He waved to them as they went by, and Tara called out to Kyle to take her in the direction of the clinic.

"Let's surprise Doctor Reardon and Katie," she said, and Kyle led Stanley toward the clinic.

As they pulled up outside Peter, the orderly, looked over in surprise at the sound of the bell on sled. Running out, he greeted them with a cheery "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Peter," Kyle said.

"You're looking well, John," the orderly said, and Kyle smiled.

"That's because I'm not John anymore," he replied.

There was a lot of explaining to do, but after having made their way inside and wishing Doctor Reardon and Kate the happiness of the day, Tara and Kyle gave a full account of what happened over the past day. News of Skeeter's arrest had reached the clinic, but the details were still unknown, and Doctor Reardon and others listened in astonishment.

"And it was that one name that triggered everything for you?" Doctor Reardon asked, shaking his head as Kyle's explanation came to an end.

"That's just it, yes. I read the name, and it was as though the veil had been lifted. I remembered everything with absolute certainty," he replied.

"Remarkable," the doctor said. "Absolutely remarkable. I'll have to write all this up into a paper. It needs documenting. You could help me, Tara."

"I'd be pleased to, Doctor Reardon. But I need a few days off first," Tara said, glancing at Kyle, who smiled.

Doctor Reardon nodded.

"But what are you going to do now? Will you go back to Chicago?" Katie asked.

Again, Tara glanced at Kyle, not knowing for certain what he would say. They hadn't yet discussed the future—it was enough to remember the past and deal with the present. But as for what would happen next…

"Why would I go back to Chicago? This is where I was meant to be before, and this is where I'm meant to be now," Kyle replied. "I left everything behind. And I had a good reason to."

A sense of relief came over Tara, and Kyle slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it. Katie smiled.

"I'll admit, I wasn't sure at first, when Tara told me about a mail-order groom. And I was even the one to warn John Smith about not growing too attached. But I'll admit I was wrong. You two are meant to be together," she said, and Tara smiled back at her.

"That's very kind of you to say so, Katie," she replied.

Later, as Tara and Kyle walked hand in hand back to the homestead, leading Stanley and the sled behind them, Tara could not have felt happier. The past no longer seemed to matter, as strange as that seemed. What mattered was the moment they found themselves in now, and the happiness they had to look forward to.

"You meant it, didn't you? About staying?" Tara asked, and Kyle turned to her and smiled.

"I meant every word. I came here because I fell in love with you through the letters. I had to know for myself if it was real. And it was. We just found it in a different way," he replied.

"I didn't know… well… when the other Kyle arrived, I ignored the warnings. I wanted everything to be perfect, and I kidded myself it was," Tara said. "But I knew something wasn't right. He wasn't the man from the letters. And the more I got to know you, the more I wanted John Smith to be the one I'd been writing to."

It all made sense now, of course. There was no difference between the man of the letters and the man she had fallen in love with. It was meant to be, and Tara couldn't have been happier to think this was the man she was to spend the rest of her life with.

"And he was. But as for what happens next… well, I came to Freemont to be with you. And being in Freemont has made me want to be with you all the more," he said, taking her hand in his.

"I can't tell you what you mean to me, Tara. It's as though I've fallen in love with you twice. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You mean everything to me, and I want to ask you to be my wife. I can't kneel, I'm afraid—not on this leg—but I'm kneeling in my heart."

Tears welled up in Tara's eyes, and there was no question as to what her answer would be. Kyle was right—they had fallen in love twice, and as a tear rolled down her cheek, she nodded.

"You know I'll marry you. A thousand times over, I'll marry you. I'd have married John Smith, and I'll marry you," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and almost knocking him off his feet.

He held her close, and as she looked at him, he leaned forward, their lips meeting in a kiss. Tara closed her eyes, caught up in the moment. Past, present, and future seemed as one, and all that mattered was the love they had found—the love they would share for the rest of their lives.

"I love you, Tara," he whispered as their lips parted.

"And I love you, too," she replied—and that was all that mattered.