THE CAVERN OF DEEP HARMONY

PART FIFTY-TWO:

There was the unmistakable scent of horse as he approached the sleigh, his hand under Eden's elbow. Then Bess snorted and stamped a foot, sending her bells into a wild and merry fit of jingles.

"Wonderful," he said, reaching out, resting his palm on the warm neck of the horse.

Eden smiled, her anticipation of the sleigh ride heightened by Marshall's evident pleasure. It had become like that now. Her greatest joy came from watching him be pleased about something. It didn't really matter what. If he was pleased, happy, smiling at something, her
own heart filled with a rush of warmly quiet satisfaction. It was what she'd come to want more than anything...that he be happy and that she be privileged to know.

"This is Bess," Ryan introduced.

"Hello, Bess," Marshall said, letting his hand run down her neck. "So you're the one horse of this one-horse, open sleigh, are you?" Bess shook her head a bit and her bells rang again. Marshall laughed. "You can't get more Christmassy than that!"

The sleigh only had the one seat, but it was fairly wide and all four of them managed to fit into it. When the blankets had been sufficiently tucked, Ryan flipped the reins, spoke to Bess, and they headed down the drive. Wadsworth had been invited to ride but he preferred to run alongside.

It felt good to stretch his legs and he stayed close enough so that he could lift his head from time to time and see Marshall.  He was uneasy any more if he lost sight of him. Their separations had disturbed the secure balance he'd always felt that Marshall would be near.

Snow was still falling, the large flakes settling on their cheeks and noses as the sleigh turned down the smaller side lane that roughly paralleled the main road that circled the lake. This lane went through the thicker parts of the woods that grew close here to the water and the lake was nearly always visible just off to their right through the trees. The late afternoon light was
pale grey but brightened by all the white that lay on the land, that coated the tops of every branch and twig, every fence post and outcropping of rock.

Marshall held Eden's left hand under the thick wool blanket. For the other three, the ride was mostly a visual experience, but he sat there happily immersed in the motion of the sleigh, the sound its runners made as they slid through the snow, the clop of Bess' hooves, and the creak of her harness leather, her breath, and the bells. The wind had entirely dropped and the snow fell
straight down. Opening his mouth, he let the flakes settle and melt on his tongue. As they touched the bare skin of his face, each light and delicate, they made him think of Eden's lashes when her face was near to his. Her hand rested on his right thigh, his fingers curled around hers. He gave them a light squeeze, delighting in her companionable closeness during this shared moment. Even through her glove he could feel the shape of her engagement ring and moved his thumb pad over it several times.

She smiled, aware of what he was doing, and leaned more closely against his side, resting her cheek on his shoulder. She felt utterly...alive. He did that. He took every moment and imbued it with the life of his presence, transforming the ordinary into the special and the special into the sublime.

Connie, to Eden's right, stole a quick glance at her cousin. Seeing Eden so content, so completely happy...it was something she'd not been sure she'd witness with Eden again. In fact, she didn't know when she'd ever seen Eden so totally wrapped in happiness as at this moment. She, too, smiled and slipped her right arm through Ryan's left. She was feeling rather happy herself the last couple of days. Maybe it was catching?

Ryan pulled the sleigh to a stop in front of Stuart's house, a home so large it nearly dwarfed the inn. The main part of it had been built as a lodge back in the late 1800's and someone had put on a decent-sized addition in the 1920's. The first story was clad in fieldstone, while the second and third stories were clapboard. Eden was describing it to Marshall as they walked together up
the curving walk to the big porch that ran across the front of the house and then down one side. Stuart, a building contractor, had bought the place some thirty years ago after it had lain empty for more than two decades. Fixing it up had been his pet project and he'd made a lovely home for his family out of it.

Harold and Martha heard the bells and came out on the porch, waiting to greet them. As they went up the steps, Luke ran out the door. "You came!" he cried as he caught sight of Marshall. "I knew you'd come!"

"Couldn't have Christmas Day pass and not see my Luke," Marshall smiled, crouching a bit as the small boy came right up to him.

"You can't see me," Luke corrected.

"I see you the way I see things," Marshall said, cupping Luke's chin in his palm. "And who's to say it's not a fine way to go about it."

"It is a fine way," Eden added, then when Connie caught her eye, she blushed slightly.

Marshall suppressed a little grin and then moved his hand down to Luke's chest. "I see you with my hands, young Luke, and I also see you with my heart. And when you've been seen by a heart, you've been really, really seen."

"I like that," Luke nodded. "I think I want to learn to see with my heart."

"I think you do that already," Marshall said, patting Luke's chest lightly. "You are a very good seer."

"Even if my eyes are not so good?"

"Eyes have almost nothing to do with heart-sight, Luke. I'd like you always to remember that, ok? Always."

Luke suddenly threw his arms around Marshall's neck. "Can you be my Christmas present, too," he asked softly, "not just Eden's?"

"I'd like that," Marshall smiled, sliding his own arms around the small back. "I'd like that a lot."

Martha looked at them, her eyes wide and unblinking, taking a mental snapshot of a scene she wanted always to remember. Marshall stood, lifting Luke in his arms. "You want to do the clock-plate for me at dinner again?"

"Oh, yes!" Luke said, his face lighting up even more. "That was great yesterday."

"You were a big help. I knew where everything was."

With Luke balanced in the crook of his right arm, Marshall held out his left hand for Eden to take. He heard the sound of someone opening the door, but before he moved forward, he paused a moment, closed his eyes, and murmured very quietly, "God bless us every one."

Stepping over the threshold, he was wrapped in the scents of Christmas dinner. If it were possible, there were even more different delightful smells than from Christmas Eve. As he walked down the hallway, Luke on his arm, Eden's hand in his, the Malones and Connie and Edith all grouping around, it was, however, the sense of family, of home, that truly wrapped him and he paused again, blinking rapidly. He was...full.  That was the word for it. He'd always felt full most of his life and had tried to take the sense of it with him even after his family was gone.

It wasn't until here and now that he completely realized how much of that had drained from
him over the last couple of years, what an effort it had been to hold close the remaining threads of it. But there, just inside the huge dining room, he knew he was full to his brim, so full that it spilled over and a tear tracked down his right cheek.

Luke saw it and touched it with a fingertip. "It's Christmas, Marshy," he said in his small voice. "Don't be sad."

Marshy. Luke had called him Marshy. Another tear followed the track of the first. "Merry Christmas, Luke," he whispered. "I'm not sad. That was a Christmas happy tear."

"You sure?"

"Umm hmm," he nodded. "I haven't been this happy in a long time."

He felt Eden squeeze his left hand. "I love you," she said softly.

"I know."

Luke had put his whole palm on Marshall's wet cheek.  "Broken eyes can't see but they can

cry?"

"Yes, Luke, broken eyes can cry."

"Does that mean they're not broken all the way, then? If they can cry, then that part of them still works, right?"

"That part still works, yes."

"Then heart-sight can make broken eyes cry sometimes?"

"Very often."

"Good," Luke pronounced. "I wouldn't want to have eyes so broken they couldn't cry."

"I wouldn't want that, either."

"You don't think I have to worry about that, then, Marshy?"

"I don't think you have to worry about that at all."

A chair scraped out. "Here's your chair, Marshall," Stuart said. "And, Luke, you can sit here right next to him if you like."

Marshall felt better during this dinner, not so tired. Each day he was stronger than the day before, making slow but steady progress back to his regular self. Luke was on his right tonight and Eden on his left. Connie and Ryan were side by side directly across the table, Mike seated beside Ryan. As much as he tried to keep his eyes averted, Mike couldn't help noticing the extra glow shining from Eden's face. The reason became evident after Stuart said grace when Eden held out her hand toward Connie and announced that she and Marshall had become engaged that morning. Connie whooped with delight and Ryan cast a covert glance to his side. Mike's face was expressionless except for the muscle twitching in his jaw. Ryan knew him so well, though, that he was aware of the effort it was taking for Mike not to show what he was feeling.

He wasn't surprised, not really. Mike had figured this was where it was headed with Marshall and Eden, he just hadn't known when. Swallowing hard, he made his lips curve into a smile, joining in with the congratulations that were sounding from all around the table.

"Oh, I'd love to see that!" Martha said wistfully.

"You will, Martha, if what I'd like to suggest works for you," Marshall replied. "We were thinking New Year's Eve at the inn."

"At the inn? Really?"  Martha gasped.

"Would that be all right?" Eden asked.

"All right? All right? My goodness! I'd love it!"

"I know it's not much notice but...."

"Who needs notice?" Martha cut her off. "We can pull it off." She looked around the huge table. "Right?"

Everyone agreed and most of Christmas dinner's conversation was given over to making plans. Marshall asked Martha if she'd play the piano for the ceremony, which pleased her immensely. "Who'll be giving you away, though?" she wondered. "Will your father be there?"

"They're out of the country right now," Eden explained, "but I have someone in mind. She looked across the table. "Mike, you've been there for me ever since the day I first got here. And when I needed to get to Marshall, you were by my side, with me every step of the way, taking me to him. Will you take me to him on my wedding day?"

Oh, God...had she really asked him to walk her down the aisle and put her hand in that of someone else? Had she really just asked THAT of him? He couldn't speak for a moment. His vocal chords had gone on strike. He was aware of Ryan's gaze fixed on him from the side. Some
little part of his brain that wasn't currently paralyzed was grateful that Ryan was there, that Ryan...knew. He opened his mouth a little, knowing he needed to say something, knowing everyone was waiting for him to reply to her.

"Please?" she added. "There isn't anyone in the world I'd rather have by my side for that than you, Mike."

God, she had him shoved out in the spotlight, didn't she? There was no room to wiggle out of it, nothing to say about why he couldn't possibly do that, about what it would cost him to do that.  He was trapped in the telescopic sight of her rifled question.  Swallowing again, he licked his
lips, hoping his voice had decided to return. He felt Ryan grip his arm just below the elbow, hidden from view by the table. "S...sure," he got out, his voice cracking a bit on the single syllable. After he'd said it and been flooded with the smiles of  the others at the table, he thought to himself that someday he'd surprise the hell out of them all and simply not do the right thing. But evidently today was not that day.

"Oh, thank you, Mike!" Eden responded. "It means so much to me."

Mike dipped his head in a nod, his voice having wandered off somewhere again, his throat thick and uncooperative.

"That leaves me needing a best man," Marshall spoke up. He'd actually thought of asking Mike to fill that role, but Eden was right. It made sense for Mike to be the one to walk her down the aisle. He'd always thought Jeff would fill the role of best man some day. Now who would he ask?
Then he heard Luke set his fork down on his plate. "Luke," he said seriously, "would you consider standing up with me as my best man?"

"Me? You want me?"

"I do. Will you do that for me?"

Luke looked over at his mother. "Is that ok?" he asked hopefully.

She nodded yes. "She says ok, Marshy! I can do it!"

Marshall smiled. Jeff, who had called him Marshy and who would have been his best man, was gone. But here was Luke, who also called him Marshy, and who felt this kindred relationship with him. Luke was perfect for the job. He felt utterly satisfied by the thought of it.

"Um, Marshy, what is a best man?"

"The best man stands beside the groom at the wedding, Luke. He's someone who means a lot to the groom, that's me, and is so important that he has the wedding rings in his pocket."

"Wow!"

"Does that sound ok? Would you like to do that?"

"Am I important enough for it?"

Marshall turned more toward the boy. "Luke, listen to me. I'm the one who decides who's important enough to me to be the best man and I choose you. And that means that, yes, you are definitely important enough to do that."

He heard a series of sniffs. "Are you ok, Luke?"

"My eyes aren't so broken, either, that they can't cry."

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