A/N: The fourth of my December challenge to write something for each week in December.
A little smile, a word of cheer
It was one of those days that she thought would never end, when the number of casualties kept coming in until she wondered if there were any men left on the battlefields. She couldn't count how many wounds she had cleaned and bandaged or medications she had administered or bones she had helped set. When she finished treating her last patient she sighed with relief as she looked around the large hospital room that had been crammed with beds and soldiers now occupying every one of those beds.
Even though it had seemed like a long day she was still surprised when she exited the hospital to find all vestiges of the sun had disappeared and in its place the sky was filled with what seemed like a million stars. She paused just outside the hospital's front doorway to gaze at this wondrous sight which, at least for a few moments, erased all the horror she had seen these past hours.
She pulled her woolen scarf a little tighter to ward off the chill of the evening as she set off for the walk home. She had only taken four or five steps when she realized he was standing there beside the motor car waiting for her. His face broken into a warm smile when he realized she had finally seen him.
"Branson you didn't have to come for me. You must have been waiting here for hours."
He gave a slight shake of his head. "Not really. I just took the Dowager home and thought I'd stop on my way back to the house."
She wasn't really sure whether or not to believe him but she was grateful to have the company otherwise on her solitary walk home she knew her thoughts would be of the many wounded men she had seen today and suddenly she didn't want to think about that anymore.
"Do you mind if we take a little detour rather than going straight to the house?"
He wanted to say he'd take her to the ends of the earth, anywhere to spend time with her, but instead he gave a short bow and smiled. "Of course Nurse Crawley."
Hearing those words her face lit up. Other than cousin Isobel he had been the only other person to encourage her in her vocation. She knew that tonight they'd sit and watch the stars and for just a little while she could forget about the war. He'd listen to her talk about her day or they'd talk about something else maybe books or their childhood or whatever came to mind and in that hour or so nothing else would matter to her.
A bit of love from someone near
He couldn't say exactly when he had fallen in love with her. The first time he had seen her had been the day he'd taken her and her mother and sister to the Downton fair and he could still recall how he had thought she was stunningly beautiful and that he kept glancing in the review mirror to look at her. If her beauty had caught his attention it was her words of women's rights that had captured his interest.
Their mutual interests and basic loneliness had led to a friendship. She arranged needless motor car trips and sought him out in the garage for conversation. No longer were they the Lady and the chauffeur but, in secret, in the motor car or the garage they were Sybil and Tom.
At first he feared he had destroyed it all that day in York. His only solace was that she asked him to not leave Downton. The relief etched on her face, the gleam in her eyes and the smile on her lips when he arrived to take her back to Downton gave him an answer she wasn't yet willing or able to say.
He thought he was dreaming when he saw her sitting by his bed.
"Just a few more" she said as she brought the spoonful of chicken soup to his lips.
Realizing he was awake, that it wasn't a dream, he looked down to see he was wearing his nightshirt. Feeling his face redden he looked up at her.
She softly laughed, that laugh that made him think of twinkling stars. "I am a trained nurse Tom."
Looking at the smile on her lips and the gleam in her eye he knew what her answer would eventually be for it wasn't just caring and concern for his health he saw, he saw love.
A little gift from one held dear
He stood waiting by the motor car while his lordship disappeared into the nearby shop. The brightly shining sun had chased away the early morning clouds but the air was still crisp and cool as befitted a December day. The main shopping street of Ripon had a festive look with garlands of cedar or pine draped around the street lamps. Wreaths of pine embellished with big red bows or silver or golden bells hung on the doors of many business establishments while other doors were decorated with the shiny green leaves and bright red berries of boughs of holly. Some had draped garlands of greenery around their large storefront windows while others had opted for displaying red or white candles usually in a ring of greenery.
He wandered over to one storefront whose window was filled with a display of boxes of all shapes and sizes, some were intricately carved wooden boxes, some were made of fine porcelain elaborately painted and some were made of crystal that glistened in the sunshine. Upon looking at the next shop window he spotted a pair of silver hair combs with sparkling tiny blue gems and he immediately thought how lovely they would look in her dark hair.
He sighed as he looked away from the shop windows, bowing his head a wave of sadness suddenly engulfed him. He could never give her such things as fine porcelain boxes and gem encrusted silver hair pins.
"It's beautiful Branson" Sybil exclaimed as she held up the silk bookmark. Made of various shades of reds and blues she declared it lovely. "I love the colors."
"I know it's not much but-"
"Branson" Sybil quickly interrupted him. "You didn't need to give me anything."
She laid the bookmark on her lap and looked up at him. "Can't you see that you've already given me the greatest gift?" She looked out the window at the grand building she called home. "All my life I've been surrounded with the finest of things. But that's just it … things."
She turned her face back towards him. "For so long I've been hungry for …" she nibbled her bottom lip "for someone to talk to, someone to listen to me. You've given me your friendship and that is the greatest gift you could give me."
Best wishes for the coming year
Since the morning had been quiet at the hospital Sybil had taken some time off. If her mother had known she would have insisted Sybil spend the time with family but Sybil had other plans for her time off. As she made her way to cousin Isobel's house, she smiled thinking how easy it was these days for her "to escape."
Subterfuge had always come easy to Sybil. As a child she hadn't thought of it as deceitfulness or dishonesty but rather as a means to evade the boredom of her expected life and instead spend her time doing what she wanted.
She could have used the Downton kitchens but she'd have been under the watchful eye of Mrs. Patmore and of course Mrs. Hughes and Carson would have known and then … she sighed … it just made things easier to use the kitchen at Crawley House especially with cousin Isobel working at the hospital.
After returning from York where he had spent most of the day as his lordship attended a holiday luncheon, Tom looked forward to spending the few hours before he had to retrieve the Dowager for dinner in his cottage. He was comfortably settled in the one lounge chair when there was an unexpected knock on the door.
"Sybil!" Tom couldn't conceal his surprise at finding her at his door for in all the time they had been friends she had never come to the cottage. Surprise was quickly replaced by alarm. "Has there been an accident or some kind of emergency?"
She crinkled her forehead in bewilderment before realizing Tom's confusion at seeing her here was based on the niceties of society. If found in the garage there was always some logical explanation to make but found in his cottage …
She smiled as she shook her head. "I wanted to be the first to wish you a Happy New Year." She held out a wicker basket with a red checkered cloth hiding the contents. There was no mistaking the aroma of freshly baked cakes.
A little smile, a word of cheer
A bit of love from someone near
A little gift from one held dear
Best wishes for the coming year
These make a Merry Christmas
John Greenleaf Whittier