Oliver and Shane arrived at the home of Gerald and Myra a couple of hours later. Always the gentleman, Oliver helped Shane out of the car, and as he did, he gave her a brief kiss on her lips. Shane took a deep breath and they walked to the front door.

Oliver rung the doorbell, and a slightly older man opened the door.

"Hello," Oliver began. "We are from the United States Postal Service. My name is Oliver O'Toole, and this is Ms. Shane McInerney. We're looking for Gerald and Myra."

"Well, you found the right place."

A woman of about the same age, early to mid-sixties, approached the door.

"Gerald, it's freezing cold out there. Let's let this lovely couple in."

Gerald stepped back politely with a forced smile, eyeing Oliver and Shane curiously.

Shane entered the residence first, Oliver's hand guiding her gently on the small of her back.

"I'm Myra," the pleasant woman spoke. "Come on in and have a seat." She gestured toward the couch.

Shane sat down and Oliver took his place beside her.

"I do apologize—we don't know your last name," Oliver commented.

"McGruff," the man spoke.

"Thank you," Oliver replied with a short nod. "Mr. and Mrs. McGruff, we work for the Dead Letter Office and recently we intercepted a letter addressed to an Aunt Myra from a Kara."

Myra gasped as she took a seat in a chair across from them. "Oh, my goodness. Where is she? Is she okay? I've been trying to get in touch with her for weeks."

"Unfortunately, we don't have current information. This letter is dated the fourteenth of December," Oliver informed her, handing the envelope over to the older woman. "I'm sorry, but we were forced to read the contents in order to determine the writer and/or intended recipient."

She nodded, taking the letter in shaky hands. She skimmed over it, her husband hurrying to stand behind her and look over her shoulder.

Tears began running down her face as Myra read the letter out loud.

As he listened to the heartbreaking words once again, Oliver took Shane's hand in his, forgoing professionalism in that moment. All he could think about was the fact that a poor woman was on the run from a husband who abused her. He couldn't fathom a relationship like that—it made his heart twist. As Myra continued reading, he looked down at the beautiful hand in his, the hand that held his promise of a lifetime on her finger. He would never do anything to hurt his love, his bride.

"I could no longer let my children be witnesses to the abuse he inflicted upon me."

And children? Oliver silently vowed to be an example to them of how a man should treasure his wife. His mind was reeling as he realized that he and Shane had not yet had a serious discussion about family plans in their future. Every time they had started to broach the subject, something had happened to disrupt their discussion.

Myra finished the letter and looked at the couple with gratitude in her tear-filled eyes. "Thank you," she told them sincerely. "You've given me hope. Before this letter, I had none."

Shane sniffled and nodded. "It's only been a couple of weeks. Give Kara some time to get on her feet. I'm sure she will contact you once she feels it's safe to do so."

"I wish she had come to us, but I'm just glad she got out of there." Gerald looked to the ceiling. "I never had a good feeling about that boy. If I could get my hands on him now, I'd—" Gerald stopped, clenching his fists and shaking his head in disgust. "He talked her into running off and getting married when they were young—too young. She didn't ask me to give her away. I wouldn't have, not to him."

The room was silent for a moment as Oliver and Shane pondered Gerald's words.

"I'm assuming that Kara's parents are no longer around?" Oliver questioned.

"No," Myra said. "They've been gone for years. We lost them in a terrible accident. My sister was Kara's mother, and Gerald's brother was her father. We were very close-knit under those circumstances and when they passed away, Gerald and I didn't bat an eye. We took Kara under our wing when she was twelve years old, and she's been ours ever since."

"She's like my own daughter," Gerald spoke up. "One day, I want to walk her down the aisle to a good man, the right man—one who will kiss her instead of beat her and cherish her instead of belittle her. She deserves better. He doesn't have to be perfect, but as long as he truly loves her, that's enough for me."

Oliver gulped at such a profound statement and Shane let out a quiet sob, tears forming in her eyes. Oliver glanced at her and squeezed her hand a little tighter.

"Mr. McGruff, we will certainly pray for that wish to be fulfilled. In the meantime, I can only hope that Myra chooses to contact you and find a safe harbor. I know she's in a troublesome situation and could use support from her family. If there is any way we can be of assistance in the future, please let us know."

He handed a card to Myra and she thanked him. His ensuing sigh was heavy and full of emotion. He turned to Shane and inquired, "Are you ready to go, hon?"

She widened her eyes and nodded, a bit surprised that he had just called her "hon" in the presence of others. They stood from the couch and started to make their way to the front entrance.

"So, when are you two getting married?" Myra asked.

"Now, Myra..." Gerald chided her.

The solemn mood vanished as Oliver and Shane halted, looking at each other with a smile. He nodded at his fiancée.

She let out a slight chuckle at the endearing nod of approval he had just given her. Turning to Myra, Shane stated jubilantly, "Tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow? Oh my goodness! And you're out making deliveries today?" Myra inquired in disbelief, her brows furrowed.

"Well..." Shane trailed off. "This wasn't just any delivery."

"No," Oliver interjected. "This wasn't an ordinary delivery, Mrs. McGruff. And my fiancée has a knack for recognizing which letters hold a sense of urgency and should be delivered personally. Yours was significant enough that it made her list today, on her day off, actually, in the midst of a plethora of pre-wedding errands. It was rather important to her that we make sure you had this in hand before focusing entirely on our upcoming nuptials." By the end of his speech, he was staring at Shane in utter amazement at just how selfless and compassionate his bride-to-be truly was.

"Oh, my dear," Myra said, looking at Shane with gratefulness. "I cannot tell you how much this means—and for you to take time out of your busy day to give hope to a stranger." Her eyes were still shiny with tears as she turned and looked at Oliver. "You have a true blessing right here."

"That I do," he affirmed proudly, still gazing at Shane in adoration.

"You better treat her right," Gerald told Oliver sharply, grabbing his attention, his gaze piercing him firmly in the eyes.

Oliver nodded without hesitation, and responded, "You have my word." He then turned to look back once more at Shane, who was turning slightly rosy from the attention. He cast a gentle and merciful smile at his love, realizing that she was somewhat uncomfortable being in the spotlight of this moment. As graciously as he could, he hastily delivered her out of the house and into the cool and crisp—yet welcome—late December air.