October 31, 1877

Dr. Mike,

Please tell the people of Colorado Springs that their Reverend and his new wife will return by the end of November, and that until then, worship the Lord on Sundays through fellowship with your neighbors and doing good works.

When we arrived in San Francisco, the first thing we did was find a parson to marry us, and a government clerk to witness. Lucy barely had time to tie a white ribbon in her hair, and the only ring I had to give her was my mother's old wedding band, which I've kept on a chain around my neck for years. In spite of this, everything felt right, and the love between us felt complete at last. Lucy was (and is) absolutely radiant. Even though we've eloped, Lucy and I agreed to hold a party to celebrate our union in the spring, when conditions are appropriate for an outdoor dance.

Lucy and I are spending the month traveling up and down the California coast for a honeymoon. As of right now, I'm writing from a small boardinghouse near San Jose, where we will arrive tomorrow and spend the day by the sea shore. Lucy has seen the Atlantic Ocean before, but she is especially thrilled to see a sunset over the water. I'm just happy to be her husband and to make her dream of seeing California come true before we return home to build a life together.

Michaela, I'm writing to you personally instead of sending a telegram to the entire town because I feel I owe you a millions thanks. Not only for caring for my physical body, but for being a true friend, patient, and, of course, for convincing me to follow Lucy. I would have never seen her again, and I would never have married my true love. In the three days I've been married, my cheeks are bruised for the continued smiling and laughter I share with her. Lucy says that she sees me grinning in my sleep. There is surely a peace that comes with being married. A peace I haven't felt since before I went blind.

No matter what she says, I know in my soul that God sent Lucy to me. Whether she is a mortal or an angel, I cannot be sure. But she is here with me now and forever. And that's all that matters.

Yours with Respect,

Rev. Timothy Johnson

Christmas Eve, 1878

A storm was ripping through Colorado Springs that night, and yet Timothy was outside on the porch of Dr. Quinn's clinic, huddled in a woolen overcoat, his hat pulled as low over his face and ears as possible. The wind was violent, and the rain was sharp and cold. Sadly, it was not snow. Timothy could hardly see the large Christmas tree across the road, barely standing up to the tempest.

The storm wasn't on his mind, nor was his suffering at the hands of the elements. There was more to worry about tonight.

For nearly eighteen hours, he'd been on the porch, refusing to leave. The townsfolk had stopped by for news in intervals, or to give him a bite to eat as he waited. Right now, Robert E and Sully were sitting with him keeping vigil outside the clinic.

Another sharp, piercing scream rang out from the clinic. Timothy's heart stopped when he heard it, and for the fiftieth time he tried to go around to the window and peer inside. Every time he remembered that Lucy and Dr. Quinn would be upstairs in one of the bedrooms, it was too late.

"Calm yourself, Reverend. Sounds like it won't be much longer now," Robert E said, chuckling. "You're just like I was when Solomon was born."

"As I recall," Timothy said, coming back to the bench and sitting down again, "Grace didn't yell quite so loudly."

"Michaela did," Sully recalled. "I'd never heard a woman shriek quite like that before."

Timothy couldn't stand the thought of his Lucy in pain. He wanted nothing more in that moment to be at her bedside with each pain, holding her in his arms and whispering sweet, gentle encouragement into her ear.

"OH GOD!" echoed amongst the screams as they came faster and faster, with increasing intensity. Timothy darted to the door, as if it wold speed things along.

"I can't wait anymore, Lord forgive me," he mumbled, opening the door and heading inside. Robert E and Sully followed. Robert E managed to stand in the doorway leading to the stairs before Timothy could get to them himself.

"You can't go up there until Dr. Mike says it's safe."

"Yes, that's right," Sully added. "You could bring in some of the bad air from the storm that could make Lucy or the baby sick."

Timothy nodded. "I keep forgetting myself, and I'm sorry."

Robert E smiled. "I think we both know how you're feeling right now. You've been waiting for this glorious moment your whole life. And on Christmas Eve, no less."

Timothy smiled at the funny timing. The night of the Christ Child's birth happened to be the same night his own firstborn was going to arrive.

"Just promise us you won't call it Jesus if it's a boy," Sully said with a wise smirk. Timothy's gentle smile grew into a toothy grin at the joke.

"Oh no, Lucy and I decided on either Adam for a boy or Alice for a girl," he informed them.

Another scream, this one louder and longer than the others. Timothy gripped the door frame leading to the stairwell and bowed his head in prayer.

Precious Lord, keep my wife and baby safe. Make her pains brief and make the delivery smooth and without complications...and thank you for your blessings on this night-"

The screaming stopped abruptly, and a new sound...a baby's piercing cry...replaced it. Again, Timothy's heart stopped as he looked up hopefully. Tears came quickly to his eyes. Robert E congratulated him with a pat on the back.

A moment of silent thanks to God, Dorothy came down to meet Timothy in the stairwell. She looked only a little surprised to see him there instead of outside. She was sweaty and as red as her hair, but she was glowing as well.

"Dr. Mike says you can go up now," she said, smiling.

"And Lucy?"

"Mother and child are both fine," Dorothy confirmed. "Congratulations, Reverend!"

Timothy let out another victorious laugh of pure joy, similar to the laugh he'd had when Lucy had first consented to court him. He rushed up the stairs quickly as possible, scrambling like a little boy expecting a surprise. It's wasn't too becoming to a man nearly forty.

He found the only open room and rushed inside.

Dr. Quinn was cleaning up several bloodied cloths and surgery tools at the other end of the room. Lucy, her hair frizzy and tossed carelessly about her shoulders, was crying happily, cradling a large, wet infant in a yellow blanket. The baby squirmed and howled in her arms, confused at the new world around it.

Timothy took off his hat and dropped it at his side. He threw himself on his knees at her bedside.

"Congratulations, Reverend!" Dr. Quinn chimed gleefully. "Everything went smoothly and I don't see any indications of complication."

"Timothy, it's a girl...Alice...Alice Esther," Lucy said gently, showing the baby to him.

"Oh, Alice!" he said with admiration. "Praise God, I am a father... and she's beautiful."

"Would you like to hold her?" Lucy asked. "I...I need a moment."

"You're feeling okay?" Timothy asked with concern. Lucy nodded.

"Yes, yes...just tired," she admitted.

"Lucile, you'll probably feel a few more contractions coming soon with the afterbirth, but they will be relatively mild. Then you can nurse her for the first time," Dr. Quinn informed the new mother.

Lucy handed the baby off to her father, who stood with the child and gently rocked. Almost immediately, the baby seemed to calm down in his arms.

"Her hair is red," he noted. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Sorry about that. I'll try to make sure any future babies have brown hair," she said with a grin. Timothy sat down on the bed and used his free hand to caress Lucy's warm, red cheek. The cool hand of her husband felt good against her skin.

"She is perfect the way she is," he answered. He leaned over and gently laid his soft lips on her hot forehead. "And you're amazing."

'I need to rest," Lucy said, exhausted and breathless. "Labor is a lot more horrid than I thought."

Baby Alice began to struggle and cry again. Timothy responded by rocking gently.

"We should sing a lullaby," Lucy suggested. "I must know a hundred of them."

Timothy smiled. "Perhaps tonight we should sing something more appropriate."

He began to hum 'Silent Night.' Lucy sighed with satisfaction and leaned her head on his shoulder, running a finger over the baby's sensitive cheek. Together, Timothy and Lucy welcomed their baby girl into the world with one of the most special lullabys of all time.

Silent night, Holy night...all is calm, all is bright...

THE

END