"Happy birthday, Mary," Dickon stepped forward and put something into her hand. "I made you a little wood flower. It's a rose."
Mary cupped the ornament in her hands. "Thank you, Dickon." She remembered what Martha had told her about thanking people when she'd presented Mary with a skipping rope. Thinking Dickon might not feel her words were enough, Mary leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Time seemed to freeze for those brief seconds before she pulled back.
Dickon's already wide blue eyes seemed impossibly wider as he asked, "What did thee do that for?"
Blushing, Mary said, "I didn't know if you'd think my thank you was enough."
"It were enough," Dickon replied. "You got a smile on your face when you said it. That smile was enough for me."