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“Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful…”

Norman Vincent Peale

The main street of Schooner Bay was gaily decorated for the festive season. Lines of Christmas lights and lanterns had been strung across the street, waiting for dusk to fall so they could illuminate the townsfolk as they hurried about their last-minute shopping.

Carolyn Muir and her two children had arrived in town sensibly dressed for the cold New England weather. They left the main street behind and crossed a snowy field before entering a Christmas tree lot, looking intently around at the offerings on sale.

They were in need of a suitable tree and the time to find just the right one, at the right price, was growing short. Today was Christmas Eve.

The large banner above the entrance to the lot declared in bold lettering…

XMAS TREES

CLAYMORE GREGG, PROP.

Carolyn smiled at it as they passed beneath. “Trust Claymore to get into yet another money-making venture. The man is incorrigible.” She shook her head. “Bah humbug…”

Jonathan stopped in front of a tree that was about his size. “Hey, how about this one? It looks neat.”

“It’s too small,” Candy told him before she crossed to a much larger tree. “I like this one…”

“Hey, yeah,” Jonathan agreed, following her lead.

“Sorry, kids. We couldn’t get that one in the house.” Carolyn shook her head.

Behind them, Claymore Gregg jumped out of his car. He’d parked among the other vehicles at the back of the lot where he could watch and wait for any likely customers to come his way. He was bundled up against the cold in mittens, a warm, fur-collared jacket and sporting a rather jaunty, red, alpine-style hat.

He hurried up to the Muirs as they continued their search. “Ho, ho, ho and merry, merry, merry and all that jazz, you lovely Christmas Muirs! I see you’ve found the best tree! You always have great taste, Mrs Muir.”

“Sorry, Claymore. It’s beautiful, but it’s far too big,” Carolyn replied. “We wouldn’t even get it through the front door.”

“That’s a pity.” Claymore’s face fell before he brightened. “I have a better one. Step right over here, please, Mrs Muir.” He guided them toward a handsome, lushly-branched, beautifully-shaped, tree. “Now, isn’t this lovely?”

“Oh, it is!” Carolyn exclaimed.

“It’s the best!” Jonathan enthused.

“I know.” Claymore preened in satisfaction. “I get a lump in my throat every time I look at it. It’s like family to me. I’d hate to part with it.” He sniffed.

“It’s perfect…” Candy breathed.

“How much is it?” Carolyn asked, suddenly cautious, not liking Claymore’s mournful tone.

“Very little,” Claymore replied breezily. “Thirty-five dollars.”

“Oh…” Carolyn responded doubtfully. “That’s a little steep.”

“Who wants a perfect tree?” Candy demanded to know.

“Thirty-five dollars is highway robbery!” Jonathan declared.

“Little kids, what do they know?” Claymore scoffed, looking put out that his festive sales patter wasn’t working as he’d hoped.

He frowned at Jonathan who was handling a small branch of the tree. “Don’t touch the merchandise!” The boy jumped back guiltily.

Claymore turned back to Carolyn. “This happens to be the finest tree in the lot, Mrs Muir. It is sheer you!”

Carolyn shook her head. “Yes, well, unfortunately, I cannot always afford what is sheer me.”

Claymore looked crestfallen. “Very well, I will…I shall make you a special price. Because of our long friendship and the joyous warmth of the holiday season.” He warmed to his theme of dispensing Christmas generosity.

“Oh, that’s very dear of you, Claymore.” Carolyn smiled; still not quite sure she trusted his willingness to try and make a dollar at any cost.

Claymore lowered his voice. “Thirty-four fifty…”

“No.” Carolyn shook her head firmly.

“How about thirty-four…?” Claymore’s voice rose with anticipation of a sale.

“No…”

“Thirty-three ninety-five,” he tried again.

“No. Fifteen dollars is my absolute limit,” Carolyn confessed.

“Fifteen!” Claymore declared in an offended tone. “I can’t give things away!”

“Not even on Christmas?” Jonathan demanded to know.

“Could we see a fifteen-dollar tree?” Carolyn asked patiently.

“Well, step over here to the cheapskate department.” Claymore sighed as he walked across the lot. “Don’t touch those trees, Miss!” he commanded a potential customer.

“Now, here is a real winner.” He showed them a very sorry looking specimen. He held it up. “This tree, Mrs Muir, usually sells for twelve dollars. But to show you my heart’s in the right place, I’ll let you have it at the Christmas time price of ten…”

“Your generosity is overwhelming.” Carolyn shook her head. “But it’s awful.”

“Those are the worst trees I ever saw!” Jonathan declared hotly.

“What kind of way is that to talk in front of a Christmas tree?” Claymore scowled at him.

“How much is this one?” Carolyn asked, finding another tree.

“Oh, that’s twenty-nine ninety-five.”

“Another gyp!” Jonathan complained.

“Now, Mrs Muir, you pay for trees by the foot!” Claymore glared at the boy. “You keep picking out trees with a lot of feet. I cannot give my stock away. I would end up in the poor house eating gruel.”

“Well, you keep quoting prices I can’t possibly pay.”

“Christmas is a money-making proposition, Mrs Muir, just like anything else. Now no one gave me these trees. I had to pay for them and I pay rent on the lot…”

“Here’s a smaller one…” Carolyn pointed, trying to mollify him.

Claymore was quick with a price. “Twenty-two fifty. For you, twenty.”

“Sorry, Claymore you’re out of my class…” Carolyn shook her head. “Come on, children. We’ll go over to the Boy Scout lot. I’m sure we’ll find something there to suit us.”

Claymore looked wounded. “Oh, is that any way to treat a friend, Mrs Muir? I have been nothing but fair with you. Now you go right ahead. They have marvellous trees,” he declared. “If you like bare branches.”

“Now, that’s not very sporting.” Carolyn frowned at him.

“Well, I don’t feel very sporting, Mrs Muir,” he shot back. “Those kids are undercutting me left and right!”

“Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get even,” Carolyn sympathised, rubbing his arm.

“Aw, thank you, Mrs Muir.” Claymore sighed dramatically. “It’s so hard trying to be an honest businessman making a decent living in this cold, cut-throat world.”

“Oh, Claymore…” Carolyn shook her head at him. “Come on, kids,” she called to the children. They walked away toward the lot gate. 

Giving it one last try, Claymore held up a sad little tree. “Mrs Muir,” he called after them. “Two dollars?”

“No, thanks.” Carolyn looked back but kept walking.

“How about a dollar?”

“No…” Carolyn kept going.

“Fifty cents?” Claymore made his last, desperate pitch. But his quarry had gone out of sight.

He dropped the tree. “Everybody wants something for nothing,” he grumbled, heading back to his car. “Who do they think I am, Santa Claus? Ho, ho and ho…”

He reached to open the driver’s door of his car and froze in confusion. “Who are you?!”

On the front seat of his car sat a plump baby wearing a furry baby bunting cap and suit. He dropped a pacifier from his mouth as he looked up at Claymore and laughed.

“Oh, my stars…oh, heavens…” Claymore began to babble. “Where’s your mummy?” He looked around the lot. “Yoo-hoo? Anyone lose a baby? Yoo-hoo? Over here…” He waved a frantic hand.

But there was no response. The lot was almost deserted as the cold evening began to close in. The threat of a fresh fall of snow hung in the air.

He turned back, crouching down at eye-level with the baby. “Listen, Slugger, give me your name, rank and serial number, it would help.”

The baby gurgled. Claymore eyed him speculatively. “What am I going to do with you? We haven’t got a Foundling Home, and the constable’s gone Christmas shopping in Boston. I can’t take you home because I wouldn’t know how to take care of you. What you need is a–”

He stopped; his worried expression filling with delight. “Yep, that’s it! The boy scouts’ best friend, Mrs Muir! That’s the exact thing to do!”

He giggled as he opened the car door and got behind the wheel. “Hold tight, baby. Here we go!”  

※※※※※

Abandoning his Christmas tree lot, Claymore drove his car all the way out to Gull Cottage. He opened the car door and got out to stare at the house. It was gaily decorated for Christmas with lights and streamers. The cast-iron lantern on the stone gatepost glowed a cheery welcome.

“I wonder what the old boy’s gonna make of all of this?” he asked, reaching into the car to pick up the baby from the front seat. “I bet I’ll get a great, big, bah, humbug.”

He hurried through the open front gate and up the snowy path, carrying the small human being in his arms. He walked up the steps and knocked on the front door.

Carolyn opened the door, staring incredulously as he entered the house. “Ohhh, Claymore. Who do we have here?”

“Look at this baby. Look what I found,” Claymore declared, somewhat needlessly. “He was just sitting in the front seat of my car like he owned it.” He held the baby out. “Here, please take him and Merry Christmas.”

Carolyn reached to accept the baby. “His mother must be frantic. Oh, hello…” she crooned to her unexpected charge.

“I know…” Claymore nodded. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Martha…?” Carolyn called out before she walked away into the parlour.

“Martha?” Claymore repeated. He giggled and did a little hop of delight as he followed her into the front room. “I posted a notice at the police station, Mrs Muir.”

“Look what we have here…” Carolyn said to the children.

Jonathan and Candy were sitting on the floor wrapping presents. They jumped up as their mother and Claymore entered the room.

“Oh, Mommy! A baby!” Candy declared, rather unnecessarily.

“Is it ours?” Jonathan asked eagerly.

“No, dear. He’s just visiting,” Carolyn replied, as she sat down on the couch with the baby in her lap.

“Yes, Mrs Muir…?” Martha hurried into the room. She stopped when she saw the new visitor. “Awww, whose baby?” she cooed.

Claymore sidled up to her with a sappy grin. “Mine…”

Martha looked him over sceptically. “Why, Claymore. Have you been keeping something from us?”

He looked shocked. “For heaven’s sake, Martha, I found him on the front seat of my car!”

“What do we have for diapers, Martha?” Carolyn asked.

“Well, I’ll find something…” Martha frowned before she hurried out again.

The children crowded closer for a better view.

“What’s his name?” Jonathan wanted to know.

“Slugger,” Claymore offered like a proud parent.

“Why?” Candy looked up at him.

“Because I like it and he’s mine.”

“I thought you gave him to us,” Candy replied reasonably.

“Claymore never gives anything away.” Jonathan shook his head. “Not for nothing.”

“Well, the baby’s not his to give,” Carolyn warned them. “His family will be going frantic looking for him.”

“Did I look like that?” Jonathan frowned at the infant.

“No, you looked like you.”

“He has such little fingernails…” Candy leaned closer.

“And teeth too,” Jonathan added, leaning closer still to peer into the baby’s mouth.

“Don’t breathe on him,” Claymore ordered, hovering close.

“Don’t fuss, Claymore…” Carolyn rocked the baby slowly. The whole tableau had a decided look of Christmas.

At the same moment, Captain Gregg materialised in the window embrace. “What’s this aboard my ship?!” He stalked toward Claymore. “Without my permission!”

“Ssshhh! Don’t yell in front of my baby!” Claymore ordered. “You’ll frighten him.”

“Someone left him in Claymore’s car,” Carolyn told him reasonably. “We’re taking care of him until his parents are located. The town constable has been informed.”

“A nursery aboard my ship!?” Daniel didn’t lower his tone.

“Sssshhh!” Claymore flapped his hands at him.

“What’s Gull Cottage coming to?!” Daniel moaned, slapping a hand to his forehead as he turned back to the window in disgust.

No one paid him any attention. The baby went on gurgling and smiling as if nothing unusual was going on at all.

Candy and Jonathan were totally entranced with the new addition. But practical matters quickly began to engage their attention.

“I wonder if Slugger’s allowed to sleep with us in our room?” Candy whispered to her brother.

“Shouldn’t think so.” Jonathan shrugged. “Babies cry. Jimmy Sutton said so. He’s just got a new baby brother and he cries a lot.”

“Okay, maybe then we better not ask,” Candy agreed.

“Might be neat, though…” her brother mused.

“It will soon be your bedtime, kids,” Carolyn told them. “Tidy up and then go upstairs, brush your teeth and put your pyjamas on.”

“Okay, Mom,” Candy nodded.

“Mom, where’s Slugger gonna sleep tonight?” Jonathan ventured to ask, as they began to tidy up their wrapping supplies.

Another groan from the Captain underscored his question. “Does no one care about my opinion?” he demanded to know.

“We’ll find something for him and I think it’s best if he sleeps in my room,” Carolyn told the children, ignoring Daniel’s muttered displeasure. “We can make do for one night. I’m sure his parents will be found by tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow’s Christmas Day,” Candy pointed out as she got up from the floor, putting her armful of things down on the coffee table. “What if they never find them? Can we keep him then?”

“I’m sure they will,” her mother reassured her. “Now up to bed, both of you. I’ll be up soon to tuck you in.”

“Okay, Mom.” Jonathan got up. “Good night, Slugger. Good night, Claymore. Good night, Captain Gregg.”

“Good night,” Candy echoed, before they both left the room, racing each other up the stairs.

“Well, I’d better hurry along, too.” Claymore waggled his fingers at the baby. “I still have some Christmas trees to sell. No rest for the wicked, I guess.” He giggled.

“Claymore Gregg, the eternal optimist,” Captain Gregg commented in a sarcastic tone.

“It’s all right for you,” his great-nephew complained. “You no longer need to make a living to keep the wolf from the door.”

“Any wolf that came to your door would most certainly go away hungry.” The captain shot back.

Mrs Muir stood up. “While you two stand there bickering, I have a baby to tend to.”

“Thank you, Mrs Muir, for taking care of my baby.” Claymore touched the brim of his hat. “I shall see myself out. I will bid you good night, dear lady and Merry Christmas.”

He made a face at the captain before turning on his heel and leaving the house. He had no intention of going back to his tree lot. That was a dead duck.

He’d decided he would go on a little shopping expedition for his baby. Surely no one could complain about him doing that…

※※※※※

Later that evening, Martha opened the door to Carolyn’s bedroom carrying improvised bedding in a large laundry basket. “Wait ‘til you see what I’ve found.”

Carolyn followed her in, holding the newest member of the Muir household. “I wish I had a cradle for him–” she began, before she stopped short, staring across the room. “Oh…”

An exquisite Victorian canopied cradle had been set up next to her bed.

“Well, how did that get down here, from the attic?” Martha wondered. “I don’t see any wings.”

“That’s a very interesting question,” Carolyn replied brightly.

“Well, it’ll be perfect for him.” Martha shrugged as she carried the basket to the bed.

“It certainly will,” Carolyn agreed, as she followed.

“Here are some things for him to wear.” Martha started removing baby clothes from the basket and holding them out.

“Why, Martha… where did you find those?”

“Well, I know you told me to send Jonathan’s things to the Good Will, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.” Martha looked sheepish. “Jonathan was such a beautiful baby…”

“Oh, you old softie…” Carolyn smiled. “He’ll certainly look like Jonathan now,” she commented.

Martha nodded. “I’ve got his bottle heating. I’ll go get it.” She left the room.

“There ya go…there ya go…” Carolyn laid the baby down on her bed and prepared to get him changed.

As Martha descended the stairs, heading for the kitchen, someone knocked on the front door. Answering it, she found Claymore standing there holding out a large bag from the pharmacy.

“Well, hello, Claymore…”

“The wreath looks lovely.” Claymore nodded at the door. “Martha, I asked the drugstore to give me everything a baby might need…” he explained quickly, stepping inside as he handed the bag to her.

“You spent money, Claymore?” Martha stared at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted wings.

“Well, I knew Mrs Muir would need things, so I had the druggist charge everything to her account.”

“I should have known…” Martha sighed.

Claymore produced a large stuffed teddy bear from behind his back. “The toy is a present…” he was quick to reassure her.

“Ohhh, you have a heart, after all.” Martha took the bear, admiring it.

“From the druggist,” Claymore concluded.

“I spoke too soon.” Martha shook her head.

“Well, let’s not forget I am donating my devotion, my time and my gasoline,” Claymore pointed out in an injured tone.

“You’re sure you’re not being overly generous?” Martha stared at him.

“Well, after all, it is Christmas…” he replied thoughtfully.

“You’re all heart. Well, good night, Claymore.” Martha hustled him backwards and began to shut the door on him.

“Just a moment, please!” He tried to stop her. “May I please say nightie night to my baby?”

“Our baby has retired and I suggest you go home and do the same. And don’t charge anything more to Mrs Muir without her permission!”

“Some people don’t appreciate anything!” Claymore huffed, offended. He stopped to glare at the Christmas wreath hanging on the outside of the door. “That wreath looks terrible.” He walked away down the path.

“Claymore,” Martha called after him. “You’re a perfect Scrooge!”

She shook her head as she closed the door and locked it, before continuing on her way to the kitchen.

※※※※※

Carolyn carried the baby to the rocking chair, trying her best to settle the wide-awake child. “This is supposed to put you to sleep, not wake you up.”

She shook her head. “Well, one of us needs to get ready for bed.” She stood up and walked to her bed, placing her small charge in the middle before blocking him in with pillows.

She retired to her wardrobe to change into her nightie and dressing gown. Tying the belt at her waist she returned to reclaim her little visitor as Martha returned with an armload of folded diapers and Claymore’s parcels.

She put everything down before carrying a full bottle to Carolyn sitting in the rocking chair again. She tested a few drops on her wrist before giving the baby his bottle. He took it and sucked on it contentedly.

Carolyn shook her head in amazement. “Jonathan’s bottle! You certainly don’t believe in throwing things away.”

“It’s coming in handy, isn’t it?” Martha asked defensively.

“It certainly is.”

Martha indicated the parcels on the bed. “Those are some things, Claymore, in his infinite wisdom, charged to your account.”

“Mr Generosity.” Carolyn smiled wryly.

“The toy is a present from Seth at the drugstore…”

“That was sweet of him.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Martha waved good night. “Call me if you need me.” She blew the baby a kiss before leaving the room, pausing at the door to look back, before shutting it quietly behind her.

“I think we can cope…” Carolyn went back to tending to the baby. “Okay, Slugger…” she whispered as she took away the empty bottle and put it down on the corner of the desk beside her.

She lifted the baby to her shoulder, rubbing his back to bring up his wind. He burped obligingly before rubbing at his eyes.

“Okay, I think it’s time we put you to bed.” Carolyn stood up, carrying the baby to the cradle. She leaned down to lay him on the mattress.

The captain materialised beside her. “Did you like the cradle?” he asked, gently.

“Oh, it’s beautiful…” she replied, smiling up at him.

“It was mine…and my father’s before me…”

“Captain, you’ve known so many Christmases. Which one was the best?”

“Ah, Madam…” Daniel mused sadly. “The best would be the one I never could have…”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a dream that can never come true…”

“What’s the dream?” Carolyn wondered.

“You’ll know soon enough…” Daniel whispered, vanishing the moment he finished speaking.

Carolyn looked after him. She frowned as she turned off the light above her bed before removing her dressing gown and getting between the sheets. “I wonder what his dream was…” she mused, before settling down.

A soft, tender Christmas lullaby began to float into the room. Carolyn’s eyes drifted shut as the music built to the sound of Christmas bells. Beyond the house, voices began to sing ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful…’

Daniel materialised at the foot of Carolyn’s bed, watching her wistfully. He shook his head as an intense surge of longing resurfaced deep inside him. If only he were alive, if only he could hold her and keep her safe. If only he had the right to kiss away all her worries and concerns, forever…if only…

He sighed. “When you wake in the morning, Mrs Muir, everything will be different, but it will all seem very real. You will be living in another time, a time of marvellous things. Everyone will still be here. The children, Martha and Slugger. Even Claymore. A dream is all I have to give you for Christmas, but it will be a wonderful dream, full of wonderous things. All you have to do is believe…believe…believe…” He dematerialised on the final echo of the last word.

Carolyn smiled as she drifted into a deeper sleep, the promised dream taking shape behind her closed lids where everything began to shimmer and change…

※※※※※

Seasonal snow lay all around, clothing everything in a fresh blanket of white. It muffled every sound, adding a serene layer of silence to the already hushed night.

A group of carol singers, dressed in Dickensian clothing, came walking up to the open front gate of Gull Cottage. They held up lanterns as they began to sing, ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful…’

Their beautiful sound drifted gently on the still night air. As they neared the end of the final chorus, they all smiled as they turned and walked away.

Captain Daniel Gregg came walking along the road toward the front gate, a seabag slung at his shoulder over a short black cape to keep out the cold. He was dressed in a nineteenth-century sea captain’s informal uniform with a black stock at his throat and a jaunty sea cap on his head.

He passed the singers, acknowledging them with a wave and a nod as they walked away down the road. He turned back briefly to look after them. He came to a stop at the open gate, gazing up at the cottage before walking up the front path, taking the steps up to the front door with ease.

As he raised his black-gloved hand to knock, the night blended seamlessly into early morning. The sun rose slowly out of the ocean behind him, illuminating the snow with sparkles of light.

Up in her bedroom, Carolyn stirred, turning over sleepily. Her hair was now long and curling. She was wearing a demure Dickensian nightdress.

She was woken by someone knocking on the bedroom door. Pushing back the bedclothes, she sat up and called, “Come in…”

Martha opened the door and hurried into the room. She was now dressed in the clothes of a Victorian cook/housekeeper.

“He’s here, he’s here! He arrived last night!” she declared excitedly.

“Who?” Carolyn asked in confusion, pulling herself up in the bed.

“The Captain!” Martha exclaimed breathlessly. “He kept his word. He’s here for Christmas!”

“Where is he?” Carolyn hurried out of bed, grabbing up her dressing gown and pulling it on.

“Downstairs. You hurry on down to greet him. I’ll watch the baby,” Martha turned to look into the cradle.

Daniel looked up as Carolyn came running down the stairs toward him. “You’re here! You’re really here!” she cried.

“Yes, of course! I promised!” He took her outstretched hands, kissing the back of one, before bending down with the delicious intention of kissing her on the lips. He’d been away at sea far too long and he’d missed her winsome beauty.

But their longed-for moment of shared intimacy was interrupted by the advent of the children, hurrying headlong down the stairs toward him. They too were dressed in Victorian children’s nightwear.

“Captain Gregg! Captain Gregg!” Jonathan shouted. “You’re here. You made it!”

“We knew you’d come!” Candy danced.

“You wouldn’t break a promise,” Jonathan added excitedly.

“I would not. And certainly, never an engagement to spend Christmas with the family I love…”

“We heard there was a terrible storm at sea…” Carolyn swallowed tightly. “We were worried you’d be delayed by it. Or worse.”

“Oh, it wasn’t too bad.” Daniel shrugged. “A bit of a blow, that’s all. Of course, the cook got washed overboard.”

“Oh, that’s awful.”

“Yes, it’s awful. But he wasn’t a very good cook.”

“Ohh…” Carolyn laughed up at him. “You’re joking.”

Daniel turned to Jonathan and Candy. “Well, children, you’ve been as good as gold, haven’t you? Or is Saint Nicholas coming with a birch switch?”

“We’ve been good as gold,” Candy was quick to reassure him.

“Well, maybe as good as silver,” Jonathan qualified.

“Ohh…” Daniel looked around, smiling as he sniffed the air with appreciation. “My, how the house smells of Christmas…”

“Martha’s making some gingerbread men to hang on the tree,” Jonathan told him. “And there’s going to be mince pies and Christmas pudding!”

“Only we don’t have a tree yet.” Candy sighed.

“Well, after breakfast, we’ll get the very best tree from the hill,” Daniel reassured her.

“Oh, thank you, Captain Gregg!” Jonathan’s eyes shone with happiness.

“And we can bring it all the way home on our sled!” Candy clapped her hands.

Suddenly the baby cried, the sound carrying down the stairs. The captain looked surprised. “What was that?”

“A baby,” Candy said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Baby?” Daniel turned back to Carolyn in confusion.

“Uncle Claymore found him on the seat of his carriage. No one’s claimed him and he wanted to give him to the Orphanage. I couldn’t possibly allow that to happen to such a precious mite.”

“Yes, of course. Typical!” Daniel exclaimed, frowning. “There was no profit in it for him.”

“Well, I persuaded him to bring the baby here,” Carolyn told him.

“Typical…” Daniel replied softly, smiling down at her.

He wished again he could kiss her. But, with an interested audience of two small children, he didn’t dare. The need burned like a slow fire within him. He couldn’t wait until their wedding day dawned and they had no further need for stolen moments of privacy.

The clock in the foyer suddenly struck the hour. Carolyn turned to stare at it in dismay. “Oh dear, I must go, or I’ll be late,” she declared, starting back up the stairs.

Daniel looked after her. “Don’t tell me your skinflint uncle is making you work during Christmas?”

Carolyn looked back apologetically. “But he needs me. We’re behind on the books.”

“Oh, don’t make excuses for him!” Daniel replied severely. “The man can afford to hire a dozen secretaries if he wanted to do so.”

“Well, I need him. I’m behind on the bills…”

“He takes advantage of you every chance he gets…” Daniel fumed. “I’ve got a good mind to go down there and tell him what I think of his parsimonious ways!”

“Oh, please don’t be cross,” Carolyn begged. “He has so little and we have so much.”

“You’re not working tomorrow,” Daniel warned her. “I won’t allow it.”

“No. I told him I won’t work on Christmas Day,” Carolyn reassured him. She smiled. “He said, ‘Very well. But I’ll be at my desk as usual.’”

“The cold, penurious, penny-pincher.” Daniel sighed.

“Uncle Claymore says Christmas is humbug,” Jonathan offered helpfully.

“He says it’s bah humbug,” Candy declared, deepening her voice and giggling.

※※※※※

Claymore was sitting at his desk, hunched over his account books, working on them with a turkey feather quill. He took no notice of the snow falling past the windows or the beauty of the Christmas scene outside.

Nothing gave him more pleasure than adding up rows of fat figures for his benefit. He loved the sense of order they gave him. Too often, people had let him down.

The door to his office opened with a flurry of snow and a blast of cold air. He looked up sourly. Carolyn walked in, looking lovely in a red coat and bonnet powdered with snowflakes, her cheeks glowing from the brisk walk to town.

“Merry Christmas, Uncle!” She smiled, as she closed the door against the cold and shook the snow from her muff.

“Bah, humbug!” Claymore pulled out his large pocket watch and opened it, frowning at the dial. “You’re four and a half minutes late!”

“Well, I’m sorry,” Carolyn apologised sweetly.

As she removed her wrap and bonnet to hang them on the coat rack behind the door, she said, “But the streets are so crowded. Everyone is so excited it’s almost Christmas. Aren’t you even a little bit excited?”

“Five minutes here, five minutes there,” Claymore tut-tutted, waving his quill pen. “And all out of my pocket! People are so careless with their time. Time is money, niece, time is money.”

“Yes, Uncle. I’ll try and do better from now on.” She hurried over to his desk. “But there is such merriment outside—”

“What right do you have to be merry?” her uncle demanded to know. “You’re poor enough…”

“What right have you to be gloomy? You’re rich enough.” She kissed his cheek.

“Bah! Humbug!” Claymore exclaimed, jumping back. He detested all forms of affection. There was no profit in it.

Carolyn smiled. “Thank goodness Christmas doesn’t depend on you for survival!”

She gathered up her paper cuffs and pulled them on, before crossing to a shabby desk in the corner. Jumping up onto her high stool, she opened a ledger, picked up a feather pen and began to work.

“What’s Christmas but a time for running up bills without money?” Claymore demanded to know, still waving his quill. “If I had my way, every idiot who goes about with Merry Christmas on his lips would be boiled in his own pudding.” He nodded decisively.

“Uncle!” Carolyn declared, reproachfully. “If you could only see it as it is.”

“What is it, pray tell?” Claymore demanded to know in a resigned tone.

“It’s a time for warmth, a time for giving. A time when families can come together in peace and harmony. Even if all they can give each other is a smile.”

“A smile won’t keep you warm at night or pay the bills on time.” Claymore pulled a face. “You keep Christmas in your way and let me keep it in mine.”

“But you don’t keep it…” Carolyn pointed out. “You ignore it like everything else in your life that you don’t like. Rows of cold, hard figures won’t keep you warm at night, either.”  

“If you don’t get back to work, you’ll celebrate Christmas by losing your situation,” Claymore snapped. “Niece or no niece, time is money. I can’t afford these emotional extravagances.” He checked his watch again. “Mmm, now you’re five minutes late!”

“I’ll work fifteen minutes later, tonight, to make up for it,” Carolyn cajoled beguilingly. “Oh, don’t be cross.”

She jumped down from her stool and approached him sweetly. “Come dine with us tomorrow. Share Christmas with us. Daniel is home, so we can all be together. It will be such a joyful day. You are my only, dearest uncle.”

“Tomorrow I shall be at this desk as always,” Claymore replied severely.  

“Yes, sir…” Carolyn shook her head in despair.

Claymore went back to waving his quill to emphasise his point. “And don’t expect me to contribute to your wedding plans. I live on a strict budget that doesn’t allow for such unnecessary extravagances. You’d do well to follow my excellent example.”

“Yes, Uncle…” Carolyn sighed.

Claymore turned back to his ledger. “Did you turn that infant over to the Alms House yet?”

Carolyn looked contrite. “I couldn’t. He’s just so adorable.”

“He’s another mouth to feed!” her uncle reprimanded her. “You’ll never manage. You and your family will starve. Well, don’t come begging at my door. Nowhere on my shingle will you find that dreadful word, charity.” He shuddered.

“We’ll manage.” Carolyn shrugged. “We always have.”

“You’ll never have two farthings to rub together!” Claymore shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter. I am a rich, rich woman, Uncle Ebenezer.” She bent down to tap his chin. “Bah humbug…”

※※※※※

Claymore’s office was quiet, except for the almost continuous scratching of two turkey feather quill pens. Carolyn knew better than annoy her uncle when he was hunched so intently over his figuring.

Her uncle had always insisted that idle chatter gave him an upset stomach. That was also why he eschewed rich foods like turkey or a fat goose. He maintained that he was far better off with a bowl of nice, hot gruel. That dish didn’t give him indigestion.

Carolyn glanced his way. She suspected it was more that her miserly uncle didn’t wish to pay the price for more expensive Christmas fare offerings. She was well aware that he could afford the very best of everything.

“Ah-ha!” Claymore suddenly cried, making Carolyn jump.

“What is it, Uncle?” she asked, worriedly.

“Someone is interfering with my property!” Claymore exclaimed, throwing down his pen and jumping to his feet. “I’m being robbed! I can feel it!”

He hurried to the coat rack, grabbing up his heavy green cloak, tying it at his neck with a thick golden cord. “I shall return, niece when I have evicted the trespassers!”

He jammed his grey felt hat on his head before he swept out of the office, leaving Carolyn to shake her head as she looked after him in complete bemusement.

※※※※※

On a snow-covered hillside outside the town limits, Candy and Jonathan were excited as they stood with the captain admiring a lush, perfectly formed tree in a snowy collection of other trees.

“It’s the best tree I’ve seen in my whole life,” Jonathan declared breathlessly.

“Captain Gregg,” Candy added. “Wouldn’t it be terrible if there was no Christmas?”

Daniel nodded. “It would be like a long, long night without a star. I feel sorry for people like your Uncle Claymore who eschew the season because they hate to spend money and share a little cheer.”

“Bah humbug.” Jonathan nodded his understanding.

“Uncle Claymore’s a scrooge.” Candy shrugged. “He just can’t help it.”

“However, we must be grateful he pays your mother a wage,” Daniel acknowledged as he walked behind the tree to begin chopping it down. “It keeps you all while I am away at sea. Somewhere deep inside him, he has a heart.”

At the same moment Claymore came running into the field, dressed in a heavy green cape, tied with a thick gold cord, and a rather jaunty grey, felt hat perched on his head. He flapped his hands in agitation.

“Captain Gregg!” he ordered. “Chop not one more time!”

The children turned to him, remembering their mother’s instructions to show him their best manners for her sake.

“Hello, Uncle Claymore,” they said in unison.

“Merry Christmas,” Jonathan added.

“Bah, humbug,” Claymore grumbled, not looking at them.

“Hello, Claymore,” Daniel greeted him. “What are you doing this far from your beloved office?”

“Guarding what’s mine,” Claymore replied with malicious glee. “That tree is on my property. I felt you three the moment you stepped onto my land. I came out because I just knew you were up to no good.”

“Don’t tell me you own this hill, now, too?” Daniel asked incredulously. “By my estimate, you must own almost half the town.”

“The more things I collect the happier I am and the fatter my bank balance becomes.” Claymore giggled. “I foreclosed on the mortgage last week,” he declared proudly. “Old man Hislop’s widow couldn’t keep up with the payments. If you want that tree it will cost you three pieces of silver.”

“That’s a whole month’s rent,” Candy declared hotly.

“It’s highway robbery,” Jonathan added.

“Couldn’t you spare even one tree for your only niece and nephew?” Candy demanded to know. “After all, we’re family.”

“That’s the trouble with family,” Claymore grouched. “They’ve always got their hand out,” he complained, extending his hand, palm upwards toward Daniel.

The captain, not wishing to hear any more complaints, reached into his pocket to extract the required coins. He put them one at a time, into Claymore’s not unwilling hand. “Here’s your money, you tight-fisted, stingy, money-grubbing, penny-pinching—”

“Tut, tut, tut, tut,” Claymore cut in. “Remember I can still have you thrown in jail for trespassing! Christmas or not!”

He pocketed the money before turning on his heel and descending the hill toward the town and his office. The children looked after him with indignation written large in their expressions.

“How can anyone be so mean?!” Candy demanded to know.

“He doesn’t need your money,” Jonathan pointed out.

“Well, we’re not going to allow Claymore’s parsimony to spoil our Christmas, are we?” Daniel counselled. “Now remember, not a word to your mother about this unpleasantness. Promise?”

“Yes, sir,” Jonathan responded.

“I hope she gets home early,” Candy added.

“So do I,” Jonathan agreed. “Then Christmas will begin…”

“Yes,” Daniel replied warmly. “Christmas begins when your mother comes home.”

He returned to chopping down the tree. Carollers approached them in single file, wending their way home. Each singer was carrying a gaily wrapped Christmas present. They were singing ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’ as they passed by.

Daniel stopped his chopping to listen to them, pushing back his cap on his head. “I think it’s going to be a very Merry Christmas…”

※※※※※

Once they’d towed the tree all the way home on their sled, Captain Gregg and the children managed to get it into the parlour and set it up in the corner by the window. All three stood back to admire their handiwork.

“I think it’ll do very nicely.” Daniel nodded. “But the branches look a little bare. What do you think, children?”

“Martha gave us some cranberries and popcorn to string up,” Candy replied. “We can do that while we wait for Mother to come home.”

“An excellent idea,” Daniel approved. “Speaking of Martha, her Christmas fare smells delicious. I think I’ll just go and have a word with her about dinner…” He hurried out of the room, leaving the children to their preparations.

In the warmly fragrant kitchen of Gull Cottage, Martha was preparing a Christmas pudding. She moved to the oven to peek in on several fat pies bubbling temptingly. She smiled with satisfaction as she took out the tray and placed it on the kitchen island.

The captain appeared in the doorway, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Martha, what glorious mouth-watering aromas.” He helped himself to a fresh mince pie, tossing the hot treat from palm to palm. “I can’t wait for the feast!”

Martha smiled at him with deep satisfaction. “Oh, I like cooking for a man. Women and children are such delicate feeders…”

“I’ll tell you something,” Daniel replied regretfully. “The kitchen delights at the Inn don’t hold a candle to yours.”

“It’s a shame you have to stay there.”

“Well, I can hardly reside under this roof until Carolyn and I are married.”

“Have you set the date yet?” Martha fussed with her arrangements.

“No…” Daniel paused as he studied his pie, a sudden thought assailing him.  “How do you think she’d feel about Christmas Day?”

“Tomorrow?” Martha looked startled. “Why, I couldn’t possibly be ready.”

“You couldn’t?” Daniel pondered, pursing his lips in thought. “When could you be ready?”

“Well, New Year’s would suit me fine,” Martha assured him.

“Well, that’ll be my second suggestion!” Daniel declared happily.

He leaned in to kiss her flushed cheek, as he swiped another mince pie, adroitly avoiding her half-hearted swat at his trespass. She chased him from her domain. He left, chuckling, as he consumed his pilfered prizes with gusto.

Across the foyer, in the parlour, the children were busy with Christmas festive fare. Candy was stringing dried cranberries while Jonathan worked with a large bowl of popcorn. Scruffy was doing his part by snapping up anything that fell his way.

“You two certainly are busy.” The captain smiled at them as he returned to the room. Finishing his second pie, he bent down to help himself to a handful of popcorn.

“Hey, no fair eating the ornaments,” Jonathan chided him.

“Wait until you see what I’ve brought home for you all.” The captain crossed the room to retrieve his seabag from where he’d hidden it behind the alcove curtain. He opened it to carefully remove the wrapped gifts he’d purchased in foreign ports.

The children got up to follow him, trying to see around him. Their intense curiosity was alive in both their faces. Daniel carried the pile of gifts back into the living room, kneeling down to place them beneath the tree.

He didn’t look up as he said, “I’m getting ready to hang some chains of cranberries and popcorn any moment now…”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Jonathan saluted him smartly before both children quickly returned to their tasks. Scruffy remained on alert for any more treats that might come his way.

“Scruffy…” Jonathan warned the dog severely. “If you don’t stop, Saint Nicholas isn’t going to bring you a big, fat, juicy bone!”

The dog barked before he left the popcorn and went to curl up beneath the tree, his head on his paws. He sighed dramatically before closing his eyes.

“When the baby wakes up, can he have some popcorn too?” Jonathan asked.

“Absolutely not,” Daniel replied. “He’ll have to content himself with lashings of milk and a loving family.”

“He’s a darling, isn’t he?” Candy sighed.

“He certainly is.”

“I just thought of something terrible,” Candy exclaimed. “The baby won’t get anything from Saint Nicholas because he won’t know where he lives…”

“Of course, he will,” Daniel reassured her.

“How can he?” Jonathan demanded to know. “He doesn’t even know he’s here.”

Daniel winked. “I think you’ll find that Saint Nick knows everything.” He tapped a knowing forefinger against the side of his nose.

“Well, if he doesn’t, I’ll share my presents with him,” Candy offered.

“So will I,” Jonathan added, then his face fell. “Unless I get a birch switch.”

Daniel sat back on his heels to look at him sympathetically. “That sounds like a boy with a guilty conscience.”

“Well…I keep remembering the things I did that I wish I hadn’t done. Like when I accidentally broke my slate at school and blamed it on Jimmy Perkins.” He looked up; his face stricken. “I really did apologise soon afterwards. Since then, I’ve tried to be good…honest.”

“It’s good that you apologised.” Daniel fought to keep an understanding smile from his lips. “You must make a resolution not to do any of them again.”

“But how will Saint Nicholas know I’m not going to do them again?” Jonathan worried.

“Leave a note by the chimney,” his sister offered helpfully. “It always worked for me, when I wasn’t sure about what Saint Nick would bring me.”

Daniel stood up to look at them both. “If you could ask Saint Nicholas for one special thing this Christmas, what would it be?”

“To let us keep the baby,” Candy replied.

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s like family now,” Jonathan added.

“That’s a lovely thought…” Captain Gregg smiled at them. It was a sweet idea, but completely impossible…

※※※※※

Claymore hunched over his desk, scanning his figures again. He enjoyed doing it for the satisfaction it gave him. He puffed contentedly on his long-stemmed clay pipe, wreathing himself in a cloud of spicy smoke.

Outside, the carollers walked up to stand at the office window, looking in as they sang, ‘Deck The Halls…’

“Listen to them, Uncle. They sing so beautifully…” Carolyn gazed off, listening, her eyes tender and misty. “I love Christmas…”

Claymore harrumphed as he glared at his ledger. “Infernal caterwauling!” He jumped up from his desk, waving his pipe. “They’re making my head ache. You give them a ha’penny and tell them to go away!”

Carolyn turned to him. “Oh, Uncle, they don’t want your money.”

“Oh, they want something. Everybody does.”

“Only to bring you the greetings of the season.”

“I don’t want greetings. I want to be left alone!” He shooed his hand at the carollers. “Now, go away! Go away!”

“Uncle,” Carolyn said softly. “Christmas will come whether you want it or not.”

“Outrageous! Bah, humbug! There should be a law against it! In fact, I might bring that up at the next council meeting.”

“Oh, Uncle, have a heart…” Carolyn begged.

The sound of the carollers faded into the distance. The wind started to rise, whistling around the building like a lost soul.

“Uncle, it’s getting late…” Carolyn got down from her stool to look out the window anxiously. “I have things to do and the storm’s getting worse. Do you think it would…be all right if I went home now?”

“Ooohhh…” Claymore sighed as he pulled out his pocket watch and snapped it open. “You were four and a half minutes late this morning and you promised me fifteen minutes extra minutes. That makes nineteen and a half minutes in all.”

“I’ll work an hour extra on the day after Christmas,” Carolyn offered generously.

“A whole hour?” Claymore queried, his eyes glittering. “Without complaint?”

“Yes, Uncle…”

“Mmmm…” Claymore muttered dubiously.

“Please, Uncle…”

“Oh, very well, go ahead. But mind you, Friday, one whole hour. And I’ll be watching the clock to make sure you’re on time.”

“Thank you, Uncle…” Carolyn bent to kiss his cheek.

Claymore flinched back as before, looking cross. “Don’t make a habit of it. I detest making such extravagant allowances, even for family.” He shook his head, deeply worried about his sudden burst of generosity.

Carolyn didn’t demur as she hurried to put her work away. “I wish you’d change your mind about dining with us, Uncle. I hate to think of you all alone tonight…”

“I want to be alone,” her uncle scoffed. “I enjoy being alone. I’m going to have a nice, cosy evening eating gruel and adding up my bank accounts. That is my reward for a year of hard toil and graft.”

The office door opened and Captain Gregg entered in a flurry of snowflakes. He took off his cap, brushing snow from the shoulders of his winter cape.

“Hello, dear.” He smiled at Carolyn.

“Oh, it’s you.” Claymore scowled at him, disliking his annoying air of good humour and bonhomie.

“Merry Christmas, Claymore,” Daniel greeted him heartily.

“What’s merry about it?” Claymore demanded to know.

“Well, certainly not you,” Daniel told him.

He turned to Carolyn. “I’m afraid I’m a little early, my dear. But I couldn’t stay away a moment longer.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” Carolyn reassured him. “He’s letting me off early.”

“Early?” Daniel looked stunned.

“Yes, ten minutes. He’s being very sweet about it.”

“Ten minutes,” Daniel marvelled. “That’s some kind of record, isn’t it? Thank you, Claymore. You may become a human being, after all.”

Claymore looked offended. “I’m perfectly satisfied with the way I am! Why doesn’t anyone understand that? Christmas is not for me!”

“Well, if you change your mind, please come out to the house. We’d love to have you,” Carolyn reassured him. She went to the coat rack to pick up her coat and bonnet.

“Yes, it’ll do you good,” Daniel encouraged him for Carolyn’s sake. “Man does not live by gruel alone.”

He turned to Carolyn, helping her with her coat. “I’ve hired a sleigh. I know you have errands,” he told her softly.

“Wonderful!” Carolyn replied warmly. “You think of everything.”

She turned to look up at him, her love evident in her wide green eyes. Daniel took her small hand between hers, carrying it to his lips, all the while studying the sweet curve of her mouth with desire.

“You’re a pair of fools, that’s what you are,” Claymore grumbled, watching their loving connection sourly. “Squandering money right and left, hiring sleighs, taking in orphans, gorging on roast goose…”

Carolyn shook her head as she turned to the mirror to pull on her bonnet, tying the ribbons neatly beneath her chin. “Oh, I’m afraid it’s only mutton.”

“Marvellous,” Daniel approved. “Next year Martha shall stuff the fattest goose in New England.”

“Ha! That will be yourself.” Claymore smirked, pointing his feather quill at his nephew-to-be.

Daniel laughed good-naturedly as he opened the door for Carolyn to go before him. “And a very Merry Christmas to you.” He gave Claymore a small, ironic bow.

“Oh, bah—” Claymore began.

“Yes, I know,” Daniel looked back at him. “Bah humbug…” He shut the door before Claymore could think of a suitable reply.

※※※※※

Safe and alone at last, Claymore made ready for bed. In his nightshirt, cap and robe, he sat at the table in his bedroom writing furiously in his open ledger, ecstatically sipping gruel and adding up columns of figures. Every once in a while he would purr and break into off-key humming.

“Ninety-seven thousand…” He dipped his feather pen into the ink well and kept writing. “Ninety-eight thousand, ninety-nine thousand, one-hundred thousand dollars…Let me say that again! One-hundred thousand dollars! I’m the richest man in the world!” He waved his pen with glee.

“Hee, hee, hee! One-hundred and one thousand, one hundred and two thousand, one hundred and three thousand – what a delightful Christmas – One-hundred and four thousand, one-hundred and five thousand…what could possibly be more fun than this?!”

He leaned over to eat another spoonful of gruel. He froze, thinking he heard an unexpected sound. He looked around the shadowed bedroom.

“Who’s there?” he demanded to know, closing his ledger and leaning on it protectively.

“I’ve given you up, Claymore…” His own voice echoed in the room. But Claymore hadn’t spoken.

“Who…who are you?” he quavered. He jumped up from his chair, looking about fearfully. “Where are you? Who are you?”

“I’m the small voice you used to hear inside you…” the voice replied.

“Used to hear inside me? I still hear you…” Claymore trembled as he sat down on the side of his bed.

“Not anymore,” the voice denied. “I’m the ghost of the conscience you used to have…”

“The ghost of the conscience I used to have? That’s a long name, but I still have you!” Claymore started to panic. “I haven’t lost you…”

“But you have…” the voice argued. “So long ago even I can’t remember the date.”

“No! Don’t say that!” Claymore quailed. “I’ve been good! Very good!”

“You’re a lost cause, Claymore…”

“No, no, no, no…” Claymore jumped up, hurrying to his desk and opening his ledger to point at the neat rows of figures. “Look, look, I’m loaded. One hundred thousand dollars, Conscience…”

“Count your ill-gotten gains and eat your grubby gruel. This evening you sent away the last two persons on earth who care what happens to your sorry, lost soul...”

“Oh, no…” Claymore’s face fell into misery. “Don’t say that! Carolyn will be back on Friday. She promised. She always keeps her promises. She’s a very good woman.”

“It makes no difference. You’re alone, Claymore…” the voice said, starting to fade away.

“No…” Claymore clutched his ledger to his chest.

“Alone…al-oo-ne…alooonee…aloooone…”

“No, come back, Conscience!” Claymore twisted from side to side in desperation, looking stricken. “Come back! Don’t leave me alone with me!”

※※※※※

The evening was dark and cold by the time Daniel finally drove Carolyn home in their hired sleigh. They hurried inside, brushing snow from their clothing.

“You’re home, you’re home!” The children came tumbling down the stairs, dressed again in their Victorian night clothes beneath warm dressing gowns.

“We asked Martha if we could stay up to wait for you,” Candy confided.

“The captain said Christmas doesn’t begin until you’re here.” Jonathan nodded.

Martha appeared from the kitchen. “I didn’t think it would hurt. The baby was still awake, anyway. I’ve just given him his bottle and put him down in his crib.”

“The captain took us up the hill and we cut down just the best tree!” Jonathan’s eyes shone with pride.

“I can see that.” Carolyn looked into the living room where flickering candles, and the fire, glowed cheerily. “That is a very fine tree.”

“You go on up and get changed, my dear,” Daniel instructed. “I’ll go out to the sleigh and bring in your purchases.”

“Thank you…” Carolyn smiled at him, allowing the children to take her hands and draw her up the stairs.

※※※※※

Later that night the foyer of Gull Cottage was dimly lit and the house quiet. Carolyn was with the children, in their bedroom, reading them all a bedtime story.  

Martha, dressed in her nightgown and robe, walked past the staircase, heading for bed. She stopped when she heard the jingle of sleigh bells outside.

Going onto tiptop, she crept back to the half-open doorway of the parlour and peered in. A figure, clad in a red, fur-trimmed Santa Claus suit, was putting presents under the tree before moving away toward the fireplace.

Above her, the children had hurried from their mother’s storytelling to the turn of the staircase. They came halfway down, trying to see what was happening in the front room.

“Martha, what’s going on?” Jonathan asked.

“We heard sleigh bells,” Candy declared, carrying Scruffy in her arms.

“It’s Saint Nicholas!” Jonathan crowed. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s going up the chimney,” Martha told them.

They heard the sound of sleigh bells fading into the distance. The children looked at each other with awe on their faces.

“For heaven’s sakes, he is real!” Candy exclaimed.   

“I told you so!” Jonathan crowed. “Gee, we just missed him.”

“When can we come down and see what he’s left us?” Candy begged.

Carolyn appeared at the top of the stairs, carrying the baby. She was dressed in a red full-length red gown with deep white ruffles at the neck and sleeves over a white silk shift.

“How about now?” she asked.

The children needed no other invitation. They came tumbling down the stairs, hurrying into the parlour as Martha pushed the double doors open. Daniel, resplendent in a cream, roll-neck sweater was attaching ornaments to the tree.

“Merry Christmas.” Martha beamed.

“Merry Christmas, Martha.”

There was a chorus of gasps and squeals as the children discovered the presents and the toys that had been left for them. As they burrowed beneath the tree, the three adults watched them indulgently.

“Here, for the baby.” Daniel approached Carolyn, holding out a rattle he’d taken from the pocket of his sweater. It was a silver bell on a flat ring of mother of pearl. He shook it, making the infant laugh.

“What a beautiful rattle,” Carolyn marvelled.

“A present from the Bey of Tunis,” Daniel told her.

“Really? For you?”

“For my household.”

“Ah, well, on behalf of the Bey, thank you.” Carolyn smiled up at him, loving the look in his eyes.

Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the front door. “Who can that be at this hour of the night?” Martha hurried to answer it.

She unlocked and opened the door. Claymore entered with a cheery smile. He was dressed in formal wear and a hat. Under one arm he carried a Christmas goose wrapped in brown paper, while under the other he held a large ledger.

“Merry Christmas, Martha,” he declared cordially, beaming at her.

“Claymore!” The housekeeper looked him up and down in astonishment. “What happened to being alone with your bowl of gruel and your figuring?”

She frowned suspiciously. “You’re looking a little flushed. Have you been nipping at the cooking sherry?”

“Oh ho, not Claymore!” he declared expansively. “Not anymore! You see before you a former humbug. I am a totally reformed character!” He held out the wrapped poultry. “Here is the goose for the Christmas dinner to celebrate the joy of the season.”

Martha accepted the package with wide eyes. “Incredible…” she mused.

“And here is the golden egg.” Claymore patted the ledger with deep fondness.

Martha shook her head at him before she closed the front door. “I think I’d better hide the sherry, just in case.” She carried the goose into the kitchen.

Claymore turned to Carolyn, standing with Daniel in the door of the parlour. “Ah, my dear niece…” He beamed. “I’m taking adoption papers out on that baby and you will raise him.”

“Oh…” Carolyn gasped in shock, glancing up at Daniel.

“But wait, there’s more…” Claymore held out the ledger. “And here’s fifty thousand more or less for his upbringing.”

“It’s a miracle,” Martha marvelled, returning to the gathering, still looking bemused. “He must have been at the brandy, as well.”

“Thank you, you’re the most generous man in the whole world!” Carolyn told her uncle.

“Oh, yes, aren’t I?” Claymore preened. “And to top off the spirit of the festive season, I’m closing the office for the entire holiday season! You may have tomorrow off with my blessing.”

“A whole day off…” Carolyn marvelled. “What will I do with such a generous gift?” She winked at Daniel.

 “But a promise is a promise.” Her uncle wagged a warning finger. “I still expect you to work that hour’s overtime you owe me.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Carolyn smiled.

“Madam…” Martha held out her arms. “Would you like me to take the baby? I’ll take him into the kitchen and let him play a little.”

“Thank you.” Carolyn handed Slugger over. “And we have some presents for you,” she told Claymore.

“For me?” Claymore blinked. “Are you sure you have the right uncle?”

“There’s only one like you to a family,” Daniel commented drily, watching the other man walk past him into the living room, still clutching his ledger.

“Merry Christmas, children.” Claymore sat down on the couch to accept his present from Candy. He opened it under the watchful eyes of his great-niece and great-nephew.

Understanding that everyone was fully occupied, Carolyn exchanged a significant glance with her fiancé. She turned away toward the front door, opening it to walk out onto the front porch and into the starry night, away from watchful eyes.

Daniel followed her, closing the front door behind them as Carolyn walked along the balcony, gazing out into the darkness. Daniel came up behind her, looking down at her with deep affection.

“Did I tell you how lovely you are?” he whispered, studying the beautiful curves of her cheek and neck.

Carolyn turned to him, smiling. “I’m…so glad you came back for Christmas. I was so worried you’d miss it.”

“I had too,” Daniel replied softly. “From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were the one. How could I stay away?”

“I have never been so happy. But it all seems so unreal, doesn’t it?” Carolyn sighed.

“Perhaps, my darling, because it is only a moment in a dream…” Daniel replied in a gentle, tender tone underscored with regret.

He reached for her slowly, savouring the moment. He had waited all day for this single moment out of time. He put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her deep into his embrace.

Carolyn went willingly, her arm going around him to prevent herself from falling. Their lips met in a deep kiss of love and understanding. The hushed silence lengthened, underscored by the soft sound of the night breeze.

Finally, Daniel lifted his head, looking down at her, as if he was only seeing her for the first time. He desperately wanted to ask her about setting the date for their wedding on New Year’s Day. But such a ceremony spoke to a permanence in their relationship that could never be. All he could do was savour this moment for as long as it lasted.

“I love you, Daniel Gregg…” Carolyn sighed as she turned her head to rest her cheek against his shoulder, revelling in the steady beat of his heart. “Can we make this more than a dream?” she asked softly.

“We make it anything we wish to be…” Daniel told her. “I love you, Carolyn, more than life itself. I always will…”

He sighed as she drew back to look up at him. “But nothing lasts forever…” He bent his head to claim her lips again and the only sound was the distant voices of the carollers singing ‘Silent Night…’   

※※※※※

Safe in bed, in her room in Gull Cottage, Carolyn stirred and smiled gently, savouring the feel of Daniel’s lips against her own. She snuggled down, trying to recapture the intimate moment. She hovered for another minute between dreaming and waking, the soft sound of carol music followed her back into the dawning light of Christmas morning.

She suddenly came awake to the sound of the baby beginning to cry his discontent. Pulled from her lovely dream, Carolyn got out of bed to attend to her small charge.

“Hello, you wanna get up?” she asked. “All right, here we go.”

As she picked him up and carried him to her bed, she saw he was clutching something in his small hand. She sat down to look at what he was holding. “Oh, my. What ya got there?”

She took it from him, seeing that it was the antique rattle she’d last seen in her dream. She rattled the silver bell gently, staring at it wonderingly…

※※※※※

She changed the baby before she got dressed. She heard the children clattering from their room and running downstairs, followed by an excited Scruffy. No doubt the presents would be opened as soon as they’d gained permission.

“Come on, Slugger…” She picked up the gurgling baby. “Let’s go and see what Saint Nick has left for us. Maybe Uncle Claymore will gift you fifty-thousand dollars…” she said, without thinking. She picked up the antique rattle from the bedside table, tucking it into the pocket of her pinafore dress.

As she opened the door and left the room, Daniel materialised beside his telescope. He looked after her with regretful eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs Muir…” he whispered, putting out one hand to rock the cradle gently. “Merry Christmas, my beautiful Carolyn…” He sighed, shaking his head as he slowly faded away.

“Are you hungry, little man?” Carolyn asked as she walked down the staircase, carrying her small charge. She was interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door.

Martha was setting the table in the kitchen when she heard the knocking. “Coming…” She went to open it, finding Claymore standing on the porch.

Wearing his jaunty red Alpine hat, with a long, multi-coloured scarf tied around his neck, he was holding a brown-paper wrapped, Christmas bird beneath one arm. Behind him, he was dragging the Christmas tree Carolyn had admired the day before. Bubbling with good spirits, he carried the tree inside and set it down.

“Merry, merry, Martha, you dazzling creature!” He beamed at her.

“Have you been imbibing, Claymore?” She stared at him with deep suspicion.

“Not so much as a noggin!” he assured her expansively. He held out the wrapped bird. “Look, meet a friend.”

“I think I’d better lock up the sherry, just in case,” Martha muttered, watching him warily.

Claymore looked up to see Carolyn coming down the stairs, carrying the baby. “Hi, Mrs Muir.” He waggled the wrapped bird in greeting.

“Merry Christmas, Claymore.” She shook her head at him. “What are you doing with that tree?”

“You said you couldn’t afford it, Mrs Muir, so it’s a gift. From Claymore Gregg, with love, to all the Christmas Muirs.”

“Oh, that’s very nice of you. I won’t say you shouldn’t have.”

“Besides, I couldn’t sell them anyway,” Claymore admitted. He smiled at the baby. “How is the kid?”

“Good.” Carolyn nodded. “He’ll be wanting his bottle soon.”

“Excellent.” Claymore turned to Martha, holding out the wrapped bird. “Oh, Martha, take my friend to the kitchen, please.”

“I think I’d better lock up both the sherry and the brandy…” The housekeeper accepted the unexpected gift with a shake of her head. She carried it away into the kitchen, tut-tutting to herself.  

“Don’t tell me that’s a goose?” Carolyn marvelled, looking after her.

“No, it’s a twenty-five-pound turkey,” Claymore told her proudly, preening slightly. “It was the last one so I got a great deal on it.”

“Claymore, you’re not yourself. Generosity has never been your watchword; we both know that.”

“I know.” He giggled. “Delightful, aren’t I? I feel like a new man.”

“You certainly are,” Carolyn replied warmly. “Have you had any word of the baby’s parents?”

“No, but I left word with the constable, Mrs Muir. You see, I might just take out adoption papers myself. I might leave this kid all my worldly possessions.”

“Claymore…” Carolyn looked at him seriously. “Have you been imbibing?”

“What is wrong with everyone this morning?” Claymore demanded to know, in a scandalised tone. “First her and now you. It is Christmas, that’s all. I’ve been moved by the giving spirit of the season to be generous to my fellow man…and woman.”

He put a hand to the side of his mouth as he turned to call into the parlour. “Kids, listen to this! Get my presents ready, it’s Uncle Claymore!” He giggled happily. “What are we waiting for?” He hurried into the room.

“Mrs Muir…” Martha returned from the kitchen. “Strange, Claymore turning up this morning. Now, I know you won’t believe this, but I had the strangest dream last night…”

She frowned thoughtfully. “We were living a hundred years ago. Captain Gregg was alive, the baby was here and Claymore, too.”

She stopped abruptly, looking confused. “Well, that’ll teach me to eat two pieces of mince pie before I go to sleep…” She shook her head as she went back into the kitchen.

Carolyn looked after her in wonder, before turning toward the parlour, where the children were helping Claymore with the tree. Scruffy was curled up before the fire, dreaming in his sleep with twitching paws and a quivering muzzle.

Carolyn carried her small charge into the room, moving to sit in a rocking chair beside the door. She watched the happy tableau of family and good friend gathered around the Christmas tree.

“In this dream, the Captain bought us the most beautiful tree I ever saw,” Candy said. “You made him pay three pieces of silver for it.” She pointed to Claymore.

“In my dream,” Jonathan told them. “I got some really keen, old-fashioned toys. I didn’t get to play much with them, though. I woke up too soon.”

“You dreamed about our presents, too?” Candy asked, in a confused tone.

“Hey kids, that was my dream too, but I adopted the baby,” Claymore told them.

“And Claymore, you brought the Christmas goose,” Carolyn said. “You were absolutely adorable. You gave me a whole day off work.”

“How did you know about that?” Claymore asked.

“Claymore…” Daniel materialised behind him. “Did you enjoy your Christmas dream?”

“Oh…” Claymore jumped before he turned around. “Merry Christmas. As a matter of fact, Captain, I did. I had a great deal of money and some perfectly dreadful gruel.”

“Man does not live by gruel alone,” Daniel reminded him with a knowing look.

“You! You did it!” Claymore accused, staring at him. “But why then, did you make me give so much money to the baby? I mean, fifty thousand dollars is ridiculous!”

“You could afford it.” Daniel shrugged. “After all, it didn’t come out of your own pocket.”

“That is not the point, Captain!” Claymore declared in an injured tone. “What is a little baby like that going to do with so much money?”

Daniel laughed with delight. “You really are an Ebenezer Scrooge, aren’t you?”

“I wish I could have that dream every night.” Candy sighed. “It was the best Christmas ever!”

“Me too! It was wonderful,” Jonathan declared.

“You will have other Christmases…” Daniel leaned down to both the children. “I’m afraid a dream like that would be like too many Christmas dinners. Indigestible.”

He looked pensive as he went down on one knee. “I wanted to give you all something for Christmas. But I’m afraid there is nothing I could give you, except a dream.” 

“I wish it was real…” Jonathan sighed.

“Dreams never are,” Daniel told him gently. “That’s the pity. They can be lovely only while they last.”

He turned his head, his regretful gaze holding Carolyn’s briefly. The intimate moment was broken by the sound of the telephone ringing. Daniel dematerialised, already knowing what the telephone call was all about.

The group listened as Martha answered it. “Muir residence…oh, yes, Constable. Oh, that’s wonderful news. They’ll be right out? Thank you, I’ll tell her. Bye, bye.”

She walked into the living room, looking from each anxious face to the next. She shrugged, knowing her news was not what they all wanted to hear.

“Mrs Muir, they found the baby’s mother. One of his little brothers put him in the wrong car by mistake. His mother will be here soon to get him. He’ll need feeding first.” She went back to the kitchen to deal with the baby’s bottle.

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Carolyn nodded. “Hey, did you hear that?” she asked the baby. “You get to go home.”

“Mother, in the dream we got to keep the baby,” Candy commented.

“Sweetie, some things are possible only in dreams.”

“Awww…” Claymore looked sad. “Captain… Captain… Captain?” he called, looking all around the room. “Captain…?”

“Hello?” Daniel reappeared behind him.

“Oh, you are so tricky,” Claymore accused, wagging a finger at him. “Captain, was that baby my ancestor?”

Daniel laughed ruefully. “Claymore, even in a dream, how could I possibly do such a terrible thing to an innocent child?”

They all laughed, even Claymore.

“I sure hate to see him go.” Jonathan shook his head.

“Me too…” Candy added.

“Think what a sad Christmas his family would have had without him,” Carolyn told them. “And remember what happiness he has brought to us by coming to visit. Now no more sad faces. It’s Christmas and we’re going to celebrate.”

“Yes, Mom.” Candy nodded, brightening.

“I guess so,” Jonathan sighed. “But it sure was good while it lasted. Merry Christmas, Slugger.”

The baby cooed at him, waving his hands happily.

“Here we go…” Martha returned, carrying the warmed bottle. “We can’t give them back a hungry baby.”

She handed the bottle to Carolyn. Slugger grabbed it with both hands and began sucking on it contentedly.

Carolyn smiled at them all. “Now, who’s going to be the first to open their presents?”

Her eyes met Daniel’s over the heads of the excited children as they began opening their gifts, ably assisted by Claymore. Martha settled on the couch to watch them indulgently.

Daniel walked over to crouch down beside Carolyn’s chair. He leaned in to smile at the baby.

“It was more than just a lovely dream…” Carolyn slipped her hand into the pocket of her dress, palming the rattle and drawing it out before turning her hand over to show him. “Was there really a Bey of Tunis?”

“Of course, my dear.” Daniel nodded. “You would have loved him. He was reputed to be almost a hundred years old and he was a very wise man. He needed to be with all the wives and children he had.”

He smiled reminiscently, touching a forefinger to the silver bell of the rattle. “He once told me to follow my heart. It was all I could truly count on.”

“Then he was a very wise man, indeed,” Carolyn whispered. “Merry Christmas, Captain. I didn’t get time to thank you for your gift. I am only sorry it had to end…”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs Muir…” Daniel looked up at her. “And you are most welcome. But we both know it could not be forever…”

“Yes…” Carolyn acknowledged. “But now and then I’m allowed to dream…”

“Yes, you are…” Daniel nodded.

Their eyes tangled and held. For a long moment, the world slid away and they were alone once more. The memory of their shared intimate moment on the porch was evident in both their gazes. Carolyn half-raised one hand toward Daniel’s face before letting it fall back into her lap as she shook her head regretfully.

Then Jonathan came running over to show her his favourite gift and the world righted itself once more, going back to the way it was always destined to be…

※※※※※

“I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow