Title: It Happened One Christmas

Author: Mary

Rating: PG

Summary: One ghost, three Muirs, One housekeeper, one dog, six Partridges, not in a Monkey-Puzzle Tree, but stranded at Gull Cottage over Christmas. A Ghost and Mrs. Muir/Partridge Family Crossover.

Part Three

The next hour or so passed quietly. Shirley and the rest of the Partridge children were busy working on a play-list for the show on the 26th — all agreeing that they wanted a program just a little different from the concert tour they had just finished. Candy sat and listened to them for a while, suggesting her favorite songs, then Martha summoned her out to the kitchen, saying she and Jonathan needed to help her, if everyone was going to eat on time.

Carolyn was putting the last of the laundry away in the children's room when she heard soft voices coming from behind the almost-closed door of the master cabin. Daniel was speaking to Tracy in low tones.

"All right, my dear. I brought you your ginger ale and told you two lovely stories. It's time you cuddled up and tried to get some more rest."

"I don't WANT to," the child mumbled. "I want to be downstairs. Mommy and Keith and Laurie and Danny and Chris — they all get to be downstairs. Chris told me they're deciding what to sing for the concert. I want to help, too."

"The best way you can help is to stay in bed and rest and get well, honey."

"That's what Mommy says. Did she tell you to tell me that?"

"No, my dear. Only you can see and hear me, remember?"

"But — Aunt Carolyn and Jonathan and Candy can see and hear you, right?"

"Yes, and Martha, but none of your brothers or sisters or your mommy can." The seaman paused. "Only you, because you're special."

"That's neat," Tracy commented, and she yawned again. "I wish I had my tambourine. I'd play something for you."

"I would love to hear you, sometime," the seaman said softly.

"Can you sing?" Tracy asked. "You have a nice voice. I bet you sing good, too."

"Yes, Tracy. I can sing. But probably not the kind of songs you like. Would you go to sleep, if your brother came up here and sang to you?"

"No — he's busy with Mommy, and you said he can't see you so you can't go get him. Why don't you sing me a song?"

"Really, Tracy, you probably . . ."

"Please?"

"All right, I will, but you have to snuggle back down under those covers and shut your eyes."

"Okay," Tracy said agreeably. "Do you sing to your kids, too?"

"Hmm?"

"Candy and Jonathan."

Daniel nodded, deciding that trying to explain his special connection with the Muir family to the little girl would be futile. "Every now and again, when they are afraid of a thunderstorm, or don't feel well."

Carolyn started. Daniel Gregg sang? She'd heard him hum to the children occasionally, but sing? Really sing?

"All set, Tracy?" he was saying. "Now close those big beautiful brown eyes . . ." and softly, the seaman began to sing about the winds from Hush-a-bye Mountain drifting over Lullaby Bay.

"I know that song," Tracy mumbled. "It's from a movie."

"That's right, Tracy . . . Shh." Daniel continued the song.

Tears began to form in Carolyn's eyes. What a wonderful father Daniel would have been! IS, she thought. To Candy and Jonathan he IS their father.

Finishing, the last verse, the Captain adjusted the now-sleeping Tracy's covers, then turned around to face Carolyn.

"That was beautiful, Daniel," she said softly.

"Eavesdropping again, my dear?" he asked, an ever-so-slight trace of embarrassment in his eyes.

"No, I was just in the vicinity, and here you are."

"Ah. I am reminded of the first night you all stayed here in Gull Cottage — and you listened when I was talking to the children."

"Candy and Jonathan were asleep when you were talking to them, Daniel. You know that as well as I do."

"Yes, but I was talking to them, none-the-less, and you eavesdropped."

"First night, in a new house — just us and the friendly neighborhood ghost. Yes, I was listening to you — and now, Tracy is asleep. But if you would like to . . ."

"To share a glass of Madeira in the wheelhouse and talk?" he asked eagerly. "It's been a while — Carolyn. I would love to."

"I need to run down and tell Martha I am going to be otherwise occupied for an hour or so."

"You can get away?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Shirley and her children are busy deciding on songs for the concert, and Candy and Jonathan are helping Martha in the kitchen. One way or another, I can get away."

"You won't be missed?"

She shook her head. "No — they'll probably assume I am wrapping Christmas presents, or something."

"Excellent. I will meet you in the wheelhouse in about ten minutes, then."

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As promised, Carolyn was back in the wheelhouse ten minutes later.

"You look lovely, my dear," he said, eyeing the old fashioned, high-necked lace blouse she had changed into. "Is that new?"

"Thank you, Daniel," she flushed slightly. Why can't I stop blushing when he pays me a compliment? she thought. "It is, well, I mean it's not, but it is to me."

"You will have to explain that," he said, gesturing toward the love seat, where a low table was set with a lace cloth, two crystal goblets she had never seen before and the decanter of Madeira. Gratefully, she seated herself and watched as he poured two glasses of the amber liquid and then held one out to her. "Here you are, Carolyn." She blushed again at the seaman's tender use of her first name, and he looked at her curiously. "Is something wrong, my dear?"

"Nothing," she said, quickly, taking a sip from her glass. "Just ran up here too fast, I guess."

"I see," he answered, wondering what was really on her mind, but when Carolyn said nothing else immediately, he continued. "About your outfit? That lace is . . ."

"Very old," she nodded. "The blouse belonged to my great-grandmother. My mother sent it to me a few days ago with instructions to save its first wearing for something special, and I thought this afternoon was just that."

"It is indeed," he nodded. "You look enchanting."

"Thank-you, Daniel."

The two sat in companionable, silence for a few minutes, and finally the seaman spoke again. "Carolyn?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"I — well, I wanted . . ."

"Yes?"'

"I wanted to tell you how . . . touched I was that you finally told me about Robert. I've often wondered whether the reason you never spoke of him was because you were still grieving him, or whether his death was just too painful for you to talk about, in some other way."

"Has your curiosity been satisfied?"

"I wasn't curious," he said quickly. "I was just wondering."

"For more than two years?" she grinned. "I think sooner or later 'wonder' would turn to 'curious'."

"Well, maybe I have been more than a little interested."

Carolyn laughed. There were still unanswered questions in his eyes.

"What is so amusing, dear lady?"

"That you still have questions, and are unwilling to ask them!" She took another sip of Madeira and put the glass on the low table in front of them, leaned forward and tilted her head to look up at him. Finally, she spoke again. "You have more questions, Daniel? Go ahead — ask away. I'm here."

"It's more — something I wanted to say, I think." He looked uncomfortable. "I suppose, well, I wanted to say again, that I am glad that you finally told me . . . well, everything. I understand more now about why you never talk about Robert, or have his pictures about anywhere. Da . . . uhm, blasted unusual, I always thought."

Carolyn nodded and reached for her wineglass. "The memories are still a little hard to handle at times." She stopped speaking for a moment and took another sip of Madeira. "I had decided that I was going to tell you about what happened soon, anyway, but, well, Shirley being here, even though she and Robert never met — I don't know. Telling you both at the same time just seemed right."

"I was rather wondering after you said what you did last night why you never — "

"Said anything about him before?" Carolyn looked at the seaman closely. "Daniel, why didn't you ask me? Anytime you wanted to, you could have asked — well, maybe not that first night, the night we met, but I rather hoped you might after Gladys and Harvey were married here, or maybe after Aggie visited, and we were arguing about marriage, being good or bad, or certainly after Robert's parents visited . . ."

"His parents . . . I take it they know nothing about . . . anything?"

Carolyn shook her head. "Not about Cheryl, no. Only that he went out to get cigarettes that night, and that he was killed."

"I rather assumed that," he nodded.

"So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?"

"Ask me, Daniel. I just said I would have told you."

"I will never get used to twentieth-century women!" he blustered. "You've told me many times that you have a right to privacy, to live your own life . . ."

"Yes," she smiled. "And that means I don't have to report to anyone — rather like that tussle we had about Blair Thompson — that I would tell you what I want, when I wanted to."

"But . . ." he stood and threw his hands in the air. "You didn't tell me, even though it sounds like you DID want to."

"I did — I just had to make sure the time was right."

"I wish you had come to me sooner, Carolyn. You've made this house a home. Your essence is all over it, and I am eternally grateful to you." The seaman sat down again and looked deeply into Carolyn's eyes. "When you wish to talk — about anything, or everything, my dear I am always here for you. Always and forever."

"Thank you, Daniel." Carolyn had to whisper the words. "I'll remember."

"As will I, my dear."

There was a moment of silence, and then Carolyn spoke again. "I realized something — well, two something's last night when I was talking to Shirley."

"Hmmm?"

"I was thinking about what she said about this being a 'year of firsts' for them. This is the Partridge kids' first Christmas without their father, and Shirley's first with no husband, regardless what his character, to celebrate with."

The Captain nodded. "Actually, I did realize that." He looked at the beautiful woman thoughtfully. "Was it hard?"

"For me?" Carolyn asked. "Well, I . . . Candy and Jonathan were so little, I don't think they remember much about it, but for me, well it was difficult, yes, but the second year was harder."

"Really?" Daniel frowned.

"Really." She smiled. "I know it seems strange, but the first year you are braced for it — you've been facing a whole year of 'firsts.' First Easter, first Halloween, first birthdays, first Christmas, and people — especially family, remember it is, and help you over the bumps. But by the second year, everyone assumes you have 'gotten over it,' and most people forget. After all, the sun keeps rising and setting regardless. It would have been much harder for me if I hadn't had my parents' love and support to help get me through."

"I see," he nodded.

"Was it the same with you, Daniel? Losing your parents when you were young?"

The mariner shrugged. "My mother died when I was so small, and it was so very long ago, and times were different then. Admitting a weakness wasn't allowed, especially if you were a male. But yes, honestly, it was hard. I missed both my mother and father growing up, and I have often wondered what my life would have been like, had they both lived. I just hope . . ." His voice trailed off.

"What, Daniel?"

". . . That I have been an . . . acceptable replacement, filling the void of father in Jonathan and Candy's life, even if I cannot fill the void of hus . . ."

"Oh, Daniel!" Carolyn's voice shook. "So much, I can't even begin to tell you, and as for me . . ." She broke off again, not sure quite yet if she should voice what was in her heart.

"As for you?" the spirit queried, "Yes, Carolyn?"

"I wouldn't have my life any other way." Carolyn smiled and held out her empty glass. "I am sorry about one thing though."

"And what might that be, pray?" he asked, as he filled her glass again.

"I realized last night that Shirley and the kids being here did kind of change Christmas for us, this year," she whispered.

"And how is that?" the seaman asked, and for a moment, Carolyn wondered if her thought had not occurred to him.

"Oh, I was just thinking that this is the first year that we could have all celebrated together. Really, together. Everyone at Gull Cottage knows about you now. You know, the first year Candy and Martha didn't know you were here, and the second year Martha still didn't know . . . this year we could have all celebrated Christmas day together, and now we can't, and for that, I am truly sorry, Daniel."

"Well, I have a plan for that!" he winked, and the mood in the room brightened, as did Carolyn's face when she realized that the spirit had thought of the family celebrating together. "You know about Epiphany — Little Christmas, of course? January sixth, of the New Year? The day the three wise men reached the Christ Child and presented their gifts?"

"Of course," Carolyn nodded.

"I was thinking that perhaps we could set that day aside — or at least the evening — and have a small family celebration of our own — you know, as they did a hundred years ago. Just a present or two, you understand. Would that meet with your approval?"

Carolyn nodded. "It sounds wonderful. I'd like that very much."

"Of course, I WOULD very much like it if perhaps I can give you your Christmas gift tonight, since I won't be able to during the day tomorrow? Can you manage to get away again long enough for that?"

"Of course," Carolyn smiled, "And I have something for you, too."

Time slipped away from them as they continued to talk and plan and for the future and reminisce about the year that was almost over, and they were startled when a tap came on the door of the attic.

Martha poked her head around the door. "I'm sorry to barge in, but figured I better not holler from downstairs. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes, and Mrs. Partridge was wondering where you were, Mrs. Muir. I made some excuse but I think perhaps, you better . . ."

Carolyn sighed. "You're right, Martha. I should . . ." Martha left the attic and Carolyn turned back to the seaman. "Daniel, I . . ."

"You need to go, dear lady," he said regretfully, giving her a soft look. "I will see you and the rest of the family shortly." Carolyn lifted her eyebrows. "Invisibly, my dear, of course. For the singing!" he elaborated. "Naturally. I wouldn't miss it." Slowly, he faded from Carolyn's view.

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Christmas Eve dinner was served at six thirty. Martha's roast chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and homemade rolls were 'oohed' and 'aahed' over, and while everyone was eating, the Partridges told the Muirs and Martha about some of their adventures their first six months traveling on the road. Keith started with an insider's, (but not at all stuck up) version of what it was like to be a 'teen idol' — he made a face at the word — and before he was done, everyone was in tears from laughing so hard.

"YOU may think it's funny," Keith protested, "But really it's not! I even resorted to disguises a few times, and I bet you never have had to explain to your teachers that someone stole your homework because they wanted a souvenir."

Candy giggled. "Someone really did that? Golly, I might have THOUGHT about it, but I'd never have enough nerve. I'd rather ask for a picture, or an autograph, or something."

"Autographs are easier," Shirley nodded, "as long as people don't start getting carried away. When they do, we call it quits. Which reminds me . . ." She turned to Carolyn. "Do you think Mr. Gregg will want us to hang around after the show and sign autographs? I forgot to ask — we don't charge for them . . ."

"Still think we should," said Danny, under his breath.

"Danny, we've talked about this," Shirley added, a warning note in her voice. "But, as I was saying, we don't charge for them, but it does take a little time, and takes away from the number of songs we perform."

"Understandable," Carolyn nodded. "I can't speak for Claymore, but personally, I think the music would be better. I mean what are the chances you'll be out this way again?"

"I'd love to come back here for another tour," Laurie interjected. "Although maybe in the spring when the weather is nicer."

"Me too," said Chris, helping himself to more mashed potatoes. "Besides, if we wait till spring, Jonathan said maybe I could see him pitch for the Oysters."

"I'm not promising anything right now. I'd just like to finish this tour," said Shirley, glancing at Tracy, who was listlessly making a puddle of her mashed potatoes and gravy. The child was awake for dinner, but she wasn't eating much, and was still running a fever, although she said she felt better. "Sorry, Carolyn," she added, giving her friend an apologetic look. "This unplanned layover — seeing you again — it's all been marvelous — I just wish Tracy was in better shape."

"I quite understand," Carolyn smiled, looking at the little girl. "Tracy?"

"Yes, Aunt Carolyn?"

"Tracy, honey. Why don't you eat a little bit more and tell us what you like about singing?"

Tracy took a half a bite of mashed potatoes. "All of it," she said simply. "I like playing my tambourine, and I like singing, and I even liked it when the skunk took a ride on the bus."

"Skunk?" Carolyn laughed and looked at her friend. "You have a pet skunk as well as a dog?"

"Long story." Shirley shrugged. "A skunk snuck on board the bus one day when we were on our way to a concert and totally obliterated what we were wearing and our costumes with its smell. After running around all afternoon trying to get rid of the stink so we could make a benefit performance at a children's hospital, we ended up back where we started — smelly, and performing in an isolation ward. We made it in time not to disappoint the kids, though, and that was the important thing."

Laurie made a face. "That was awful, all right. I'll never forget taking a bath in tomato juice!" Candy giggled again, and Laurie did too. "That was the only way to get rid of the smell — and it worked, but it sure felt weird! Then that boy found Simone, who hadn't had a bath, and shoved him in our car, and we were contaminated all over again."

"It all worked out okay!" Keith added. "Kind of funny, now that I look back at it. We did solve the problem with our costumes though. Now we all have an extra outfit, and keep it wrapped in plastic, against incidences like skunks, rain, sleet, snow, etcetera."

They lingered over dessert and coffee. Martha's apple pie was declared magnificent, but when Carolyn and Shirley refilled their cups for a third time, the younger children excused themselves and made a beeline for the parlor. As Shirley, Carolyn, Martha, Laurie and Keith sipped their coffee, strange noises could be heard coming from the living room. Martha left for a few minutes, and came back laughing and shaking her head.

"Chris is trying to demonstrate the drums to Jonathan," Martha chortled. "And it's not going too well. Pardon me for saying so, Mrs. Muir, but I don't think Jonathan has any musical inclinations at all."

"Ah, but what he lacks in rhythm, he makes up for in volume!" Shirley laughed. "Truthfully, you never know, Carrie. Chris tried three different instruments before settling on the drums."

"I remember that!" Laurie smiled. "First he was determined to play the guitar, then the keyboard, and finally, out of sheer desperation he tried the drums and he was a natural. It was a noisy learning process, to be sure, though!"

"Speaking of noisy, are you sure it's all right if we practice again tonight, Carolyn?" Keith asked. "We really don't want to be a bother."

"Are you kidding?" Danny asked, coming back into the kitchen. "A private concert by the Partridge Family? Why, in California it would cost . . ." He broke off, seeing the warning look in his mother's green eyes.

"We've ALL been looking forward to it," Carolyn said, just as Daniel Gregg materialized into the kitchen. "We'll have to pop Tracy back into bed before too long. Martha, leave those dishes alone," she admonished the housekeeper. "You need to come and watch too. I'll help you get things tidy after the rehearsal."

"Correction. We'll ALL help!" Shirley said.

"You don't have to tell ME twice!" Martha chuckled as she untied her apron.

The instruments were already set up by the time the three adults, and one spirit, had made their way into the living room. Carolyn glanced around. Tracy, resigned to the idea of not playing, was curled up on one corner of the couch. Jonathan was seated on the floor in front of the couch with Scruffy, and Candy was sitting on a straight chair, nearer, but not in front of the group. She had her tambourine in her lap, Carolyn noticed, and Candy was already tapping it impatiently, waiting for the music to start. Carolyn and Martha seated themselves on the sofa with Tracy.

I thought we'd start with some of our more upbeat ones tonight," said Keith, placing his guitar strap over his shoulder. Then we'll get into a few more carols, and then maybe some new songs. "Ready?" He looked at his family. "One, two, three . . ."Appropriately enough, they began to "sing out to the people." It was true, their songs did help make things seem closer to being all right.

The group was off and running . . . Repeating a few songs from the night before (I Think I Love You after Candy pleaded) then after a few false starts, working through a few of the new songs Shirley and Keith had mentioned the night before — Point Me in the Direction of Albuquerque and I'll Meet You Halfway becoming immediate favorites with their audience, and Daniel commented to Carolyn, invisibly, how much he enjoyed a tune Keith wrote called I'm Here, You're Here.

Candy, Carolyn noticed, stayed in her seat, but had been beating time with her tambourine through almost every number — and when the Partridge family had started playing songs unfamiliar to her, the little girl still had the beat figured out by the second chorus, and had joined in.

"They are really very good!" the Captain commented as the final strains of She'd Rather Have The Rain, another new song Keith had written, faded away. "They are playing more . . . lively tunes tonight. I must say, their use of percussion and such is amazing, and I like their music very much, but I like the close harmony of their ballads the most. I wish they would try a few more of them."

Tracy, who was curled up on the couch with Carolyn, heard the Captain's comment. "Mommy, the Captain wants another soft song," she interjected.

"Shh . . . Tracy . . ." he cautioned. "Remember . . . ?"

"The Captain, Tracy?" Shirley asked, deciding to humor her.

"Yes, Captain Gregg." The little girl glanced at the spirit, and then back at her mother. "He wants a soft song. You haven't played I Really Want To Know You, yet."

Candy and Jonathan hid a smile, and Danny rolled his eyes. "Are we really going to . . . ?"

"Well, we haven't," Laurie agreed. "And I like that one — especially the harmony you sing, Mom. It's almost a solo, and you don't do enough of those, anyway."

Keith looked at his younger sister doubtfully. "You sure, Tracy? This might be the last one before we stop for the night. I thought you liked Bandala the best."

"I want I Really Want To Know You," Tracy stuck her chin out.

Keith shrugged. "You got it, Trace. Mom? You ready?" And he started the soft guitar intro.

"You'll like this one, Captain!" Tracy whispered to thin air. And the Partridges began to sing.

How could this young man have captured my feelings for Carolyn so well? Daniel wondered silently. Knowing her secrets, what is in her heart and, yes, what is behind her lovely green eyes is my deepest desire. I do want to share her dreams and everything else, besides.

Disregarding the possible repercussions of what the Partridges might think of her staring off into blank space, Carolyn gazed into her Captain's eyes. Thoughts kept running through her mind: ' Music, the greatest good that mortals know, and all of heaven we have below.' Stand inside your soul, Daniel. I think tonight I have been given that chance, and I thank heaven for it. Nothing I could ever write expresses what I have wanted to say better than these words have. It's how I have felt about you from the day we met.

As the song ended, Carolyn forced herself to pull her eyes away from Daniel's face. The mood was broken, but unlike so many times in the past, when touched to the heart, Daniel Gregg did not move away, but instead strolled casually over to the fireplace, where he continued to watch the beautiful woman who had turned his house into a home.

"Sing Jingle Bells!" Jonathan cried, breaking the mood. Obediently, Keith began the familiar tune, Laurie picking it up on the keyboard and Chris and Shirley providing the back-beat of drums and vocals, and Candy, again filling in a few do-a-diddies with her tambourine. Signaling the Muirs and Martha to join them, the happy group continued to sing. Daniel couldn't help but join in, even though he knew that no one could hear him but Carolyn and Tracy — but the thought that those two could hear him made him happy. After three or four Christmas tunes, ending with Sleigh Ride, Keith broke off, claiming his throat was parched.

"You know, I think we're missing the beat here," Keith said, after drinking the water Martha brought to him.

"What?" Danny demanded. "I think it was a pretty good rehearsal, Keith."

"It was great," Candy agreed. "I've been having a groovy time."

"I have to say, I agree with Danny," said Shirley. "Which song do you want to go over again?"

Shirley's eldest shook his head. "No, Mom, I don't mean a song, literally, I mean we're missing something obvious here."

"What?" asked Laurie. "I don't get you."

Keith looked at Tracy, cuddled up next to Carolyn, on the couch, half-asleep. "Think Trace will be able to sing with us the day after tomorrow?"

Shirley shook her head. "I doubt it. She's still running a fever, and you've heard her cough. I called Doctor Griffith and gave him a progress report, but he said not to expect her temperature to be back to normal for at least another forty-eight hours, which means no concert."

Keith nodded his head. "That's what I thought you said."

"I still don't see what you are getting at," said Danny, wrinkling his nose.

"Simple!" Keith said, "Candy can play the tambourine instead."

"ME?" Candy started, jumping up, and dropping her instrument on the floor.

"Why not? You've been doing it all night."

"From a chair!" Candy protested. "I'd die up on a stage! I know it. I'd just die!"

"Actually . . ." Shirley drew out the word. "I think it's a great idea, and Candy, I said the same thing, but once I started performing, I didn't want to stop."

"But, but I'm not a Partridge!" Candy protested, flopping back on her chair again. "Everybody wants to see you guys, not me."

"We can adopt you as a Partridge for one night," said Laurie, firmly, walking over to where Candy was seated. "Can't we Mom? Carolyn?" she asked, turning toward the Shirley and Carolyn, and she placed her hand on Candy's shoulder. "Candy would be really great, and Mom, you know you hate playing tambourine and singing at the same time! She would be doing US the favor. Please?" She faced Candy again. "You can do it, you know you can, and I know you really want to."

"What about Claymore?" Candy asked doubtfully. "Will he think it's okay?"

"If that mealy-mouthed worm says anything untoward at all, I'll keelhaul him!" said the Captain, into Candy's ear, and the little girl's face brightened. "My dear Candy, Claymore is the least of your worries. You should do this."

"But what'll I wear?" she asked, feeling like there was already an answer ready.

"You can wear my spare outfit," said Danny, "I think we are close enough to the same size to get away with it."

"Please, Candy?" Danny and Chris said together, and then Tracy nodded her head.

"Please, Candy? I want you to. It's okay with me!"

"Okay." Candace Muir nodded her head. "I'll do it."

Christmas Eve 11:30 p.m.

It was after eleven before everyone had finally settled down for the night. Anxious to meet with the Captain and give him his Christmas gift, Carolyn waited impatiently for Shirley to finish with Tracy, who was not inclined to go to sleep, maintaining she didn't WANT to nap anymore, but eventually the child drifted off. Shirley was not far behind her. Candy and Jonathan had gone to bed willingly more than an hour before — Candy especially — now more excited about the day after Christmas, and the concert, than Christmas day and presents itself.

Carefully, Carolyn slipped out of bed and pulled on her robe, prepared to make some excuse, should her friend wake. She had managed to keep calm that afternoon when Daniel had mentioned it, but she was more than a little anxious for their late-night tryst to exchange Christmas gifts — convinced that this year she had a gift that was guaranteed to knock Daniel Gregg's socks off. Carefully, she pulled a flat, medium sized wrapped package from her dresser drawer and made her way to the attic on tiptoes.

Captain Gregg met her at the door of the attic holding two glasses of Madeira. "Merry Christmas, my dear, or almost-merry Christmas, I should say!" he said, handing her one.

"Merry Christmas, Daniel!" and Carolyn touched her glass to his.

"I take it Mrs. Partridge and the little one are sound asleep, then?" he asked as Carolyn made her way to the love seat and sat down. "How is Tracy doing?"

"Better, I think, except she's just sick and tired of being sick, as I would be," Carolyn smiled and tucked her bare feet up under her.

"I imagine you are tired, period," the spirit said. "You've had some rather late nights lately, what with one thing and another."

Carolyn nodded. "I rather thought the late night stuff Christmas Eve was over after Danny Shoemaker told Jonathan there was no Santa Claus."

"I did as well, but I will always believe in good old Saint Nick, in spirit," said the Captain, chortling a bit.

"When it comes to spirits, you are the one who would know!" Carolyn grinned and took another sip of her wine, then looked at the seaman in dismay. "Uh oh! Chris and Tracy still believe in Santa Claus! What am I going to do? I can't have them come downstairs Christmas morning and not have Santa gifts!"

Daniel Gregg raised a finger, stopping her. "Don't worry, dear lady, I already have the situation well in hand."

"I should have known!" Carolyn rolled her eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

"That would be telling," the seaman winked. "But, needless to say, my sea chest has lots of relics in it that I am more than happy to give to those who will appreciate them."

"Thank-you, Daniel."

"For what, my dear?"

"For being so sweet about having your home invaded, rock music and all."

"My dear lady, I told you, it's OUR home, I am not sweet, and the music is not that bad . . . it has a bit more of a beat than Tim Seagirt's songs, and I am still more partial to Mozart and Beethoven, but . . ."

"You're treating the issue lightly Daniel, but I know better, especially . . ." Carolyn broke off, thinking about the dream the spirit had given them the year before, where they were all back in his time, and wondered if the seaman had plans to continue the story-line THIS year, before the arrival of the Partridges. ". . . Anyway, I know we will be making it up later, but I am still sorry we have to leave you out of things tomorrow."

"I told you before, I really don't mind — I have had many holidays with no one. It's only been in the last three years that I . . . Carolyn, there is so much I want to do for you and Candy and Jonathan, and so little I can . . . blast it," he blustered. "Anything I can do for you is no sacrifice. Besides," he added, "I've grown quite fond of some of the Partridges' songs, especially that last one they did last night."

"That one was . . . beautiful." Carolyn said softly. "Amazing how some songs seem to say in so few words what I . . . people want to say, and can't."

"Indeed . . ." he said, quietly. And for a moment, the two said nothing. "I am most anxious to see Candy perform," Daniel finally added. "It should be something she, and Schooner Bay, will remember for a long time."

"Me too," Carolyn nodded. "It was sweet of Keith to ask her, and Laurie to insist. I hope everything goes well. I have to say that I'm a little nervous about it."

"As am I, but I'm sure she will do fine," the Captain said, and smiled. "I imagine it's her . . . every little girl's dream come true . . . to perform with everyone's favorite family?" He chuckled. "I'm already thinking of the look on Miss Penelope Hassenhammer's face!"

"Not to mention Jane Shoemaker's!" Carolyn laughed, thinking of her daughters' least favorite person, and her own. "Jane's usually the first to try and take charge when anything like a celebrity comes to town. Remember Rutledge Adams?"

"I was rather relieved that Candy didn't burn up the phone lines, calling all her friends with the news," Daniel added. "But I heard her tell Martha that it was . . . groovy? having them all to herself, and she thought it would be boasting to go on and on about it when she can't 'share them,' so to speak."

"Candy is growing up," Carolyn nodded. "I'm sure the concert will more than make up for not being able to 'share them,' as she says. Actually, I am starting to wonder if she prefers it that way. I think perhaps she does," Carolyn said thoughtfully. "I know she is fond of Laurie. I know I always thought it would be fun to have a big sister," and she doesn't seem quite so tongue-tied around Keith, anymore, either."

"Chris and Jonathan seem to be getting along well too," the spirit said. "That Danny is quite a character though." The clock on the attic wall struck midnight. "It's getting late, Carolyn," he said regretfully. "You should get back, before Mrs. Partridge misses you. I have a Christmas gift for you, however, now that it is officially Christmas." The spirit pulled a package out from under the love seat, and placed it beside Carolyn.

"And here's yours, Daniel," Carolyn put down her wineglass and handed him the flat package she had been holding in her lap. "This isn't really all of it. I have something else planned, but the weather kind of snarled things up. This is just sort of a start, if you will."

"Ladies first." Daniel gestured to Carolyn's present, and slowly, Carolyn pulled off the gold bow and cobalt blue paper, and pulled out a carved box. The top was heavily polished and inlaid in an intricate design of wood, ivory, and gold. "Oh, Daniel," she breathed. "It's lovely!"

"It belonged to my mother," he said quietly. "My father gave it to her on their third wedding anniversary. It seemed right, somehow, that considering this is our third Christmas together, that I should give it to you. Open it, my dear."

Slowly, Carolyn opened the lid, and music began to play — and not just any tune, but the tune Carolyn privately called her 'dream tune' — her waltz — the one she and Daniel had danced to in her dream when she was sick with Virus X — Ague, Daniel had called it, almost two years ago! How did Daniel . . . did he know what this tune was? Tears began to form in her eyes and Carolyn was touched beyond speech.

"Do you like it?" he asked eagerly, "I know it's old, but . . ."

"Daniel, it's beautiful," she said softly. "Are you sure . . . ? Your MOTHER'S . . . It's . . . it's perfect."

"That was my mother's favorite tune," he added. "I play it every now and then, and think of her. I hope you will play it, often."

"I will," she nodded. "It's absolutely wonderful. What a lovely gift! I'll treasure it always." Then she nodded toward the package she had given him a moment earlier. "Your turn." Lovingly, Carolyn closed the lid on her music box and stroked the lid softly.

Carefully, the Captain unwrapped a silver picture frame and peered at what the frame contained. "A letter, my dear? What . . . ?"

"Read it, Daniel," she nodded. "Look."

"Random House Publications: Dear Mrs. Muir. This letter is to inform you that we herewith confirm the sale of Blood and Swash, the Memoirs of . . ." The seaman broke off, astonished. "Our book? They . . . you . . . my memoirs are going to be . . . ?"

Carolyn nodded happily. "Yes Daniel! You've finally done it! Your memoirs! Published! They should be out by the end of January."

"I can't believe it!" the seaman said, shaking his head. "But you're wrong, Carolyn . . . WE'VE done it . . . We wrote them together. At last! How long have you known?"

"I received the letter the same day Shirley and everyone got here," Carolyn explained. "I was going to tell you that night. I was saving it as a surprise between the two of us — sort of a private celebration first, then Shirley and everyone showed up, and I realized what fun it would be if I could make it a Christmas present." She laughed lightly. "You know you aren't the easiest person in the world to shop for."

Daniel stroked the frame and read the letter again slowly. "Random House. I can't believe it. Well, the advance you receive will certainly make life a little easier around here for a while."

"More than a while, I should think, Daniel!" Carolyn smiled again, and pulled another small piece of paper out of the pocket of her bathrobe. "I have the check here. I haven't cashed it yet." She handed the check to the seaman, and couldn't help but smile when she saw the seaman's eyebrows shoot up dramatically.

"That much?" he asked, astonished. "I had no idea!"

"And that's just the advance," she nodded. "There will be more, if the book sells well, and I'm sure it will."

"Do you have any plans for how you wish to spend the money yet?" he asked. "I know it's a personal question, but . . ."

"But you have every right to ask, in this case, Daniel!" Carolyn's eyes twinkled. "Well, I think it's bad luck to count my chickens ahead of time, but I am hoping somehow I can persuade Claymore to sell me Gull Cottage. Even part of this advance would be a good down payment, and once it's in my name, I can do what you've always wanted and leave a will making it a seamen's home."

"Oh, my dear!" Daniel was truly touched. "That's a marvelous idea, but willing it to the seamen isn't necessary anymore. You handled that situation quite nicely when you directed that Amateur Night production, in February, and earned the money to get the warehouse converted. They have a place now. Gull Cottage should belong to you and your children, and your children's children. God knows, I would give it to you if I could. I never would have left it to that numbskull, Claymore." The seaman sighed and stared off into space — and Carolyn wondered once more about the dream the Captain had given them the year before. It was a lovely dream! But, alas, it had ended too soon, and left far too many unanswered questions.

"Daniel?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"I was wondering, this Christmas . . ."

"Yes, Carolyn?"

"Well, this Christmas, I . . . well, it made me think of last Christmas, and the dream you gave us. It was a marvelous dream, but with waking up and all, and Claymore coming over and the baby's parents being found, I'm not sure I ever told you what a wonderful dream it was, and, well, I've been wanting to ask you . . . ?"

"Carolyn, my dear, you're talking in circles."

"What . . . what if Shirley and everyone weren't here this year? Were you planning on . . . ?" Carolyn felt a flush come to her cheeks. Blast. Would this man always make her blush? "Daniel, this Christmas, were you planning on continuing our dream from last year? Us . . . living in your time, and you and I . . . about to be . . . um, married?" Carolyn paused, and then plunged in again. "I was wondering, because . . . well, because you haven't mentioned the dream you gave us since last Christmas, and . . . well . . . I was wondering if maybe the dream . . . I . . . wasn't all you hoped for."

"Oh, my dear Carolyn, it was! It was all that, and more . . . that dream was . . ."

"Yes?"

"Carolyn, would you like to continue the dream this Christmas?"

"Very much," she nodded.

"Well then, perhaps we still can . . ."

"What, now?" she asked, startled. "Tonight?"

"No, dear lady, but, as I said, I was counting on celebrating with you all in some small way on Epiphany — Little Christmas. Perhaps by then I can plan a suitable sequel. I may even be able to surprise you with something more special than a dream."

"Daniel! What?" Carolyn asked, sounding like a child begging for a Christmas Eve present.

"You'll have to wait and see . . ." was all the spirit would say.

No amount of coaxing or cajoling from Carolyn would make him give her any more information, and after another hour of conversation, the spirit and the lady of Gull Cottage said their goodnights. Carolyn slipped into bed quietly, not waking Shirley, thinking, as she drifted off, that Three Kings' Day couldn't come fast enough.

December 25th, Christmas Morning

It seemed like only ten minutes after Carolyn had crawled into bed that a knock came at the door — tentative at first, and then more insistent. "Mommy?" It was Chris Partridge. "Mom! Can I come in? Guess what?" Chris opened the door without waiting for his mother's 'yes.' "Santa came! He really did!"

Shirley groaned and looked at the clock. Seven a.m.. Well, it was an hour later than last year! In the cot next to her, Tracy heard the word 'Santa' and began to wake also.

"Santa?" Tracy rubbed her eyes. "Mommy, you said he . . ."

"I know!" Shirley smiled at her daughter. "I thought he was delivering our presents to grandma and grandpa's house! Guess I was wrong, sweetie!" She threw Carolyn a grateful look. "What do you say we go downstairs and see what he brought, okay?"

Carolyn pulled on her robe and made her way to the door, where Chris was waiting, excitedly. Behind him were Keith and Laurie, bearing cups of coffee. "Sorry Mom, Carolyn!" Keith grinned. "I tried to get Chris to wait, but, well you know him! Presents are his middle name — everyone else is downstairs . . ." He handed a cup of coffee to his mother.

Laurie stepped into the room and handed the mug she was holding to Carolyn. "Martha has sticky-buns warming in the oven now," she said. "They should be ready by the time you get downstairs," she added to her mother, who was now getting a robe on Tracy, and making sure her feet were covered. In a sotto voice to Carolyn, she added: "The packages to everyone look so pretty! I can't believe you managed to get everything together so fast!" Kissing Carolyn on the cheek, Laurie headed for the door again. "Come on Keith, Chris . . . see you downstairs, Mom!"

"Come on, munchkin," Keith added, picking up Tracy and slinging her over onto his back, much to her delight. "Special treat for Christmas morning! Piggyback ride!" he galloped out the bedroom door and started down the stairs — Tracy squealing with glee all the way.

"Carrie, Santa Claus?" Shirley asked. "When did you . . ." Then she nodded. "I thought I heard you leave last night, but I . . . well, I was so tired that I dropped off . . ." She gave her friend a hug. "It really wasn't necessary! The kids would have understood!"

"Guess Santa Claus knew where to find you and the kids, AFTER all!" Carolyn responded, mysteriously, refusing to take credit for Daniel Gregg's doings. "Guess we better go downstairs and see what's what! And I, for one, don't want to miss out on Martha's sticky buns — they are sheer heaven!" Shirley started for the door — Carolyn following, but at the door of the Captain's cabin, after Shirley had exited, Carolyn turned back toward the French windows and whispered a 'thank-you, Daniel!' before following her friend downstairs.

The more adult members in the household drank another cup of coffee as the younger Partridge and Muir children investigated the contents of the stockings that 'were hung over the chimney with care,' laughing as they did so. Candy and Jonathan's stockings were the same ones they had had since they were babies, but Chris, Danny and Tracy were delighted when they found their own socks hanging from the chimney. They were filled with standard Christmas treats — candy, nuts, and tangerines, but Candy and Jonathan also had toothbrushes in theirs, and, as a special prize, Tracy and Candy found little figures made of seashells at the top of their stocking, and Jonathan, Danny and Chris whistles carved out of wood. Scruffy even had a stocking — one of Jonathan's — with a large bone inside.

Keith scratched his head. "You know, I may have to start BELIEVING in Santa again! Either he really DID visit here last night, or I slept a lot more soundly than I thought I did!" He glanced at Carolyn who was sitting next to his mother on the couch.

Shirley, nodded, looking at Laurie and Keith, and then Danny who was helping Tracy extract a walnut from the toe of her stocking. In a low voice, she turned to Carolyn. "I knew the older kids, even Danny would understand why Christmas Day would be a bit present-less, but I've been a bit worried about Tracy and Chris — Santa suddenly seems very real to me!"

Santa-ghosts are even more real to me! Carolyn thought, reaching for another sticky bun.

"Presents next!" cried Candy, diving far under the tree and pulling out a medium-sized oblong box. "Here, Mom! This is from me and Jonathan!"

"We made it ourselves," Jonathan added. "Candy drew it, and then we both did the — well, you'll see!"

"Hope you like it, Mom, 'cause we can't take it back!" Candy added. "The Cap . . ." Carolyn gave her a quick look, and Candy hastily amended, "we got some coaching on how to do it, but we've been working on it for more than four months!"

Carolyn unwrapped the box and pulled out a large piece of canvas, and unrolled it, unveiling a picture — a small schooner against a cloudy sky, done in layers of browns, blacks and grays — and highlighted in gold. The ship seamed to almost sail off the canvas.

"Candy, Jonathan . . ." Carolyn said quietly. "This is lovely! I can't imagine when you had time to do this! It's marvelous!" She touched the threads making up the 'rigging' gently. "This is really beautiful!"

"What is it?" Danny inquired, coming over to look. "It looks a little like . . ."

"It's a 'woolie'," explained Jonathan. "Seamen used to make them while they were out at sea when they didn't have anything else to do."

"Men like Captain Gregg — " Danny glanced at the seaman's portrait over the fireplace, " — did sewing?" He scoffed. "I don't believe it!"

"How so you think they repaired their sails, Danny?" Candy asked, patiently. "Or fixed their clothing when it was torn, or they need a button put back on? No girls on board ship!" she grinned. "I still think there should have been!"

"Oh," said Danny.

"There are a couple of other woolies in the foyer," Jonathan added. "You know, on the way up the stairs. Captain Gregg did them."

"How do you know that?" Danny demanded, unwilling to be outdone.

"The Captain probably told him he did," Tracy said is a small voice from where she was sitting with Shirley and Carolyn on the couch, she paused and then added. "I think it's neat!"

Carolyn gave her two offspring a quick hug. "Who's next?" she asked, changing the subject.

Keith unwrapped his 'Santa present' next, an old journal, filled, not with log entries, but handwritten poetry — all unsigned, and a note that said simply: "With your knowledge of music, I am sure that you can do something with these humble words. I look forward to you creating something beautiful with them."

"Cool," said Keith, as he started to scan through the volume. "This is great — where did you . . ." he stopped, remembering from where the gift supposedly came. "Some of these sonnets look beautiful . . . thanks, Car . . . I mean, I owe Santa BIG time for this! Odd, though . . ." he stopped and held the note against the journal. ". . . The ink is more faded toward the beginning of the pages than here toward the end, and the handwriting on this note is almost the same as the handwriting in the journal — and here — he added. I can't read in this date is a nine or an eight." He flipped through the pages again. "Wow . . . some of these poems are really . . ." His voice trailed away as he became absorbed in the book before him.

Shirley opened her Santa gift next — a carved figure of a mermaid sitting on a rock — then Laurie, finding a Marquisette pendant on a silver chain, and Chris, a set of bongo drums, with a note in the same handwriting as the one on Keith's present saying: "surely another type of drum won't make that much more noise." Martha tucked her new Irish linen, lace-edged handkerchief in the pocket of her apron immediately, saying she hadn't seen anything as beautiful since she learned to iron as a little girl — using her grandmother's handkerchiefs, and there were laughs when Danny opened his present — an "Eight-Bit" silver dollar dated 1825 — along with another note, again, in the same handwriting as the other two gifts saying simply: "This dollar is a good luck piece — I am sure it will bring you luck also. No man should ever be broke — think of it as the one dollar you should never spend."

"Carrie, you are much too generous!" Shirley leaned over and whispered. "These gifts are . . ."

"From a seama . . . from Santa." Carolyn whispered back. "Relax and enjoy them."

"Mommy, look!" Tracy cried, now on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. "It's a fan! An old-fashioned lady fan! I told Santa I wanted one, and I told my angel, but I never thought I would really, really get one!" Happily, the little girl leaned over to show her sister.

Candy and Jonathan went last — Jonathan finding a small saber in his Santa package, and Candy a Victorian cameo, made of ivory. The two siblings looked at each other for a moment and then smiled.

"Captain Gregg did all this," Jonathan murmured to his sister. "This was his saber — he's let me hold it before!"

"I know!" Candy whispered back. "He showed the cameo to me this summer — he asked me if I thought it was old fashioned! I told him I thought it was beautiful, but I didn't know he wanted to give it to me!"

"Pretty cool Santa you guys have here at Gull Cottage!" said Laurie, leaning over from her patch of floor near the tree. "Thanks for keeping the Santa gig going, you guys! We won't be able to give up the ghost for another few years or so, because of Chris and Tracy!" She gave the two a furtive 'thumbs-up' sign.

Candy giggled at Laurie's 'ghost' comment and dug her elbow in Jonathan's ribs. "I had to pretend for a year too!" she answered. "Its just something big sisters have to do!"

Carolyn opened her 'Santa' gift, a large conch shell on a wood base and smiled, thinking of her lovely music box upstairs — and then all the children, including Keith and Laurie, were handed another gift. Martha had been busy too. Everyone laughed when they realized her presents to the Partridges' was a goodly supply of cookies and fudge they had helped her make the day before. Then Candy and Jonathan opened their presents from their two sets of grandparents — mostly clothing, and a 'Twister' game from Brad and Emily Williams — tagged "This one is to share!" and Candy dug under the tree one more time. "That's it," Candy commented, backing out from where she had crawled under the tree, looking for more treasures. "All done."

"Not quite!" Laurie said with a smile. "We haven't given you guys anything, yet!"

"You and Martha . . ." Shirley turned to Carolyn, and then the housekeeper ". . . are just going to have to expect something nice from sunny California when we get back — there's absolutely nothing in the bus that is right for you two. You'll just have to wait and see . . ."

"With pleasure!" Carolyn smiled, and Martha nodded, also.

"These are for you, Jonathan," said Chris, pulling a small, thin package out from underneath the sofa. "I hid 'em here last night," he added, looking at Carolyn. Slowly, Jonathan opened the top of the package and pulled out a set of drumsticks. "I didn't know what you really wanted, and couldn't go shopping for you anyway, but you . . . well, you seemed to like my drums, and I thought you might like to start practicing with these," Chris continued. "You can always get the drums later."

Thunder rolled. Just a bit. Shirley looked up. Crazy Maine weather, she thought.

"Uh — his musical — er talents — don't really seem to be quite — there," Carolyn said to Shirley, giving the Captain's portrait a quick look.

"Trust us, he might be rough, but with practice, he can be good," said Laurie, and the thunder stopped.

"LOTS of practice," added Danny. "It takes time."

"I can't take these, Chris!" Jonathan protested. "You need them to play!"

"I have an extra set," the other boy insisted. "I want you to have these."

"Gee, thanks!" Jonathan started tapping on the coffee table immediately — with no regard to time or rhythm.

"Candy next!" said Keith, who had left for the kitchen momentarily. He came back carrying a small package, which he handed to the girl. "This is for you, Candy!"

Candy opened up the package quickly and gasped as she pulled out a tambourine — autographed by the entire Partridge family. "Ohhh, WOW!" she gasped. "It's really mine? To keep, and everything? Oh, boy! I can't wait to show everyone — boy, will, Penelope Hassenhammer be . . . This is so COOL!" Excited, she jumped up and started hugging every Partridge in sight — ending with Keith, who leaned over and kissed her in the cheek. Candy kissed the boy back without thinking, and ran over to Shirley, shaking her new tambourine as she went. Reaching her, she gave her a hug. "I can't wait to hang this up on my wall! It's going right over my bed! It will look perfect there — how groovy!" She stopped for a moment. "Oh, wow — can I play this one at the concert? Maybe I shouldn't. I don't want to hurt it!"

"Playing it won't hurt it — not for one night!" said Laurie, coming up beside her. "Just for the concert, anyway! We used a laundry marker to sign it. It shouldn't smooge, or anything."

Candy gave Laurie another excited hug and then her mother, then went back to her place by the Christmas tree and started stuffing torn Christmas wrapping, unbidden, in the trash can Martha had placed in the living room. "Let's help clean up, and then, can we go practice upstairs?" she asked her mother.

Carolyn nodded. "Yes, as soon as you all check with Martha and see if she has anything for you to do in the kitchen. Shirley, that was a brilliant idea!" Carolyn said to her friend, quietly. "You've made Candy very happy."

"Keith's idea, actually!" said Shirley, watching the various and sundry children tidy the living room.

In a few minutes, the room was clean again and all the Partridges and Muirs, except Tracy and Keith, were out in the kitchen, getting their various assignments from Martha. Christmas dinner was set for three p.m.

"Mom?" Keith asked. "If it's okay with you guys, may I be excused for a little bit? I know it's Christmas, but I'd really like to go work on my song again . . . I remember now Tim Seagirt said Without Her was based on an old-English poem he found . . ." He held up his 'Santa Present' — the poetry journal. "I think something in here may be just what I am looking for."

Shirley nodded. "Sure, Keith, as long as Martha doesn't have anything for you to do. But I wish you'd stop worrying about this song of yours — it will come."

"I'd really love to play something new for the concert tomorrow, though," her son protested, thumbing through the little volume.

"Keith, you've had writer's block, before — you're getting way too concerned. You'll make yourself sick over this, if you keep it up," his mother protested.

"Ah, Mom! I'm as healthy as a horse!" Keith laughed and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Give me two hours — If I can't crack it by then, I'll let it go for a while — okay?" Shaking his head, he headed for the alcove.

"Speaking of healthy, Tracy . . ." Shirley looked at her daughter. "It's time you took some more medicine and went back . . ."

"Mommy!" The cry was plaintive, and then the little girl let out another racking cough. "I don't want to go back to bed!"

"Madam — " Daniel Gregg appeared and looked at Carolyn. "I seem to remember that steam baths are good for loosening congestion — would that possibly help the little one? I'm no expert, of course, but it seems to me that might . . ."

"You know, I think a hot bath might help you." Shirley continued. "Loosen you up a bit. That and then something hot to drink wouldn't hurt at all." Carolyn blinked.

"That's what the Captain just said," Tracy giggled. "Okay, Mommy. Then can I come back down here? Candy said earlier she would read me a story."

Shirley felt the child's forehead again. "Uh . . . sure, Tracy. I think your fever's down from yesterday, but it's still not normal. Captain, indeed. One more day and I'm calling Doctor Griffith back." Daniel held a finger to his lips and vanished. "Come on, Trace . . ." Post haste, Shirley bundled her child away upstairs, and Carolyn was left alone in the living room . . . for a moment. Then Candy was back again, tugging at her mother's sleeve.

"Mom? What about the Captain?" she asked her mother, a worried frown on her face. "Isn't he left out today? Is he lonely? I feel bad . . . Maybe we should . . ."

"No, dear." Carolyn smiled and gave her daughter a short hug. "We're having Christmas with him on three Kings' day. Two Christmases for us this time. It's fine. He understands."

"Three Christmases." The look on Candy's face was pensive.

"Three?" her mother asked, puzzled.

"Tomorrow. I'm more excited about that than anything ever. But scared."

"You're going to do fine," Carolyn said, giving her daughter another squeeze. "And personally, I, for one, can't wait!"

xxxxxxxx

The rest of the day passed quietly. Keith, as he had promised, came out of the alcove two hours after he left the living room with a smile on his face — saying he had finally found the lyrics to his song, that the lyrics and tune couldn't be simpler, and that they could learn it the following morning once they all reached the Schooner Bay Little Theater.

The house was filled with wonderful smells that grew more terrific as the day commenced, and it suddenly seemed Christmas dinner couldn't come soon enough. It finally did, of course, and after a very filling turkey dinner and dessert (three different kinds), the entire crew helped Martha get the dinner dishes washed and the kitchen cleaned. Keith and Danny braved the weather outside, which they said wasn't bad at all, brought in some logs and lit a fire.

Jonathan and Candy insisted everyone try out the Twister game — which everyone did, except Martha and Tracy. Martha declined because she said she knew better, and Tracy because Shirley didn't want her to over exert herself. The steam bath earlier that day had helped, but the child was still coughing, which only confirmed the fact in Shirley's mind that there was no way, even if Tracy wanted to, she would be allowed to perform the next day. This last thought was a silent one, since it was a given, as far as the rest of the Partridges were concerned, that Candy would be filling Tracy's place at the concert the next evening.

After more games, including charades and a songfest with Martha playing the piano, Christmas Day drew to a close. Danny, Chris, and Jonathan fought valiantly to keep their eyes open, maintaining they weren't ready for the day to be over, but Candy, eager for the morning, made her excuses and headed for bed — Laurie not far behind her.

Shirley, carrying a sleeping Tracy, made her way to the main cabin shortly after that, and Carolyn followed them. Keith shut out the lights and retired to his berth on the couch. Daniel Gregg watched from the widow's-walk as midnight passed. In a few hours, Boxing Day — and Concert Day, would dawn at Gull Cottage.

December 26th 1970

If Carolyn thought the morning after Christmas would be awaited any less eagerly than Christmas morning had been, she was quickly corrected. Candy was up and downstairs by seven a.m., before Martha, normally the early riser of Gull Cottage, had even dressed. The housekeeper had appeared in the kitchen shortly after, made a pot of coffee, and started breakfast. Laurie, still sharing the room with Candy, surfaced next, followed shortly by Keith, with Shirley, Carolyn and Tracy trailing close behind them.

The rest of the crew dawdled just a bit. For Danny and Chris, performing was old hat, so the younger Partridges were in no hurry to get out of bed, and because they weren't, Jonathan wasn't either. Everyone made it to the kitchen table at last, however, and no sooner had they began to eat their breakfast of eggs, pancakes and bacon, than a knock came at the door.

"What on earth?" Carolyn got up and headed for the foyer, Shirley following close behind. "Surely, the snow plows can't be here already," Carolyn said to her, "Claymore phoned me Christmas afternoon and said not to expect anyone until at least ten!"

Throwing open the front door, Carolyn beheld Ed Peavey, handyman, Seth Jackson and Abner Dawes, maintenance and salvage, Stanley Williams, owner-manager of the best garage and repair shop in Schooner Bay, and Claymore Gregg. All the men but Claymore were holding snow shovels and beyond them, just past the stone fence marking the edge of the front yard of Gull Cottage, were three snow plows, a flatbed tow-truck, and the van from the hardware store, all still running, the smoke from their engines billowing out into the clear, crisp, December morning.

"Claymore!" Carolyn started. "You . . . you're here? Already? You said you . . ."

"Surprise!" Claymore grinned. "You're right, Mrs. Muir, Mrs. Partridge, that is what I said, but, well, we . . ."

"Truth is, Miz Muir . . ." Abner drawled, ". . . my daughter, Susan, had me up at five this mornin'. Kept tellin' me we couldn't keep . . . Keith, and the rest of the group, here waitin'." He shrugged. "She wouldn't give me no rest, so I figured I might as well call Seth, Stanley and Ed, and get things movin."

"Wasn't any big deal," Stanley said. "I usually have the garage open by seven, anyway, and Abner's daughter, called my girl, Maggie, who was already awake and botherin' me, and . . ."

". . . and Maggie called MY daughter, Kathy," Seth finished. "So I was up, too."

"And I called Ed," Claymore finished, "and pried him out of bed, and . . ."

"Claymore! You know darn good and well I woke you up!" Ed grumbled. "Deke Tuttle called me, because Doris, Deke's wife, woke him. She and the rest of the PTA are over at the theater right now, tidying and vacuuming, and such, so everything looks just so before you all get into town to start rehearsin." Ed tipped his hat to Shirley Partridge.

"Well . . ." Shirley began, " . . . this is all just so very . . . well, what do you want us to do, exactly? My son, Keith is still eating breakfast. He . . ."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Partridge! May I call you, Shirley?" Claymore began. "And I'm C.G., don't forget! We can't take a chance in damaging the talent, don't you know! You all are artists! Would do for you all to stoop to manual labor — oh, no, never! Besides, so far we only have the road between here and Schooner Bay cleared." He snapped his fingers at Ed, Abner, Seth and Stanley. "My crew has to get your bus dug out of the snow first!"

"WE, Claymore?" Ed drawled. "You didn't do nuthin' but drive the van in from town, after Seth, Stanley, and Abner cleared the road, and I drove the flatbed tow-truck!"

"That took some doing," Claymore defended himself. "I'm not used to driving a van."

"After drivin' that old rattletrap car of yours, Claymore," Stanley interrupted, "That van is a Cadillac."

"Now then, Shirley . . ." Claymore continued. "My men here will have your bus out of that ditch in a jiffy . . . then they'll load it on the flatbed, and . . ."

"US, Claymore?" Seth spoke up. "What about you? So far, you haven't done a thing, except give orders!"

"Someone has to be the Captain," Claymore protested. "And that's me."

"Correction, you goldbricking sea-slug!" boomed Daniel Gregg, inaudible and invisible to everyone but his supposed great-nephew. "I am the only Captain here at Gull Cottage, and don't you forget it!" Claymore felt a jerk around his neck and Seth blinked, as the snow shovel he was holding seemed to fly from his gloved hand to Claymore's. "Go, you watery-eyed barnacle! You want to be a Captain, start acting like one! Be a leader! Make tracks to that bus and start digging! Now!"

Claymore practically flew down the walk. "Guess I'll get started right away!" he hollered over his shoulder — "We'll have the bus . . . Ow! I'm going! I'm going! Don't rush me! . . . dug out in no time, Shir . . . Mrs. Partridge!" Now starting down the road to where the bus was still buried in snow, Claymore's voice was fading fast. "Abner, Seth, Stanley! Come on, you guys! Do I have to do everything! Help me out here . . . I know! I know! I'm moving, already! Sheesh!"

Ed gazed at Claymore's retreating figure and rubbed his chin. "The things that man won't do for a dollar!" He shook his head, and turned back to the three men, still standing on the porch and the two women in the doorway. "Seth, Stanley — if you don't mind, why don't you follow 'heap big chief' and see what's doin' with the bus — Abner, why don't you and me see what we can do about loadin' up Mrs. Partridge's musical equipment?" He nodded at the two women. "You packed it all up last night, right? Now you two ladies go on and finish your breakfast. Ain't nobody goin' nowhere 'til the bus is out of the ditch. Mrs. Muir, is Mrs. Partridge drivin' her family to the theater in your car?" Carolyn nodded. "Well, then by the time the bus is loaded, you all will most likely be through with breakfast. Then we'll get Mrs. Muir's car warmed up, and you and your family can follow our little caravan back into town, right to the Schooner Bay Little Theater."

"Sounds pretty good to me!" Shirley grinned.

"Sure we can't offer you a cup of coffee, Ed?" Carolyn asked.

"That'd be great, Mrs. Muir!" Ed winked. "Suppose I better wait a mite though." He pulled his coat collar up around his neck. "It'd be better if I get the instruments taken care of, and then see what "El Capitan" is up to. Then coffee for everyone would be very nice!"

"The instruments are this way," said Carolyn, leading him inside.

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It took more than forty-five minutes to dig out the bus and make a path for the flatbed, and then drag the psychedelic bus out of the ditch, and load it — and that was with Keith helping the other men shovel. Ed and Abner had joined the rest on the project after Keith had mentioned, again, that he didn't want the instruments sitting outside in the cold any longer than absolutely necessary. After the bus was loaded, the crew from town made short work loading the musical instruments in the back of the van.

While the men were outside working, Carolyn had received a call from Millie, the Schooner Bay telephone operator, saying that the roads and highways leading away from Schooner Bay, and Maine, were also being cleared, and that in all likelihood, the Partridge family would be able to leave for Philadelphia the next day as planned, where they would finally be able to celebrate Christmas with Shirley's parents.

By the time the men were through with the bus and the instruments and everyone had finished breakfast, Shirley had re-Vick's and medicated Tracy one more time, and tucked her back in Carolyn's bed. Surprisingly enough, Shirley thought, the little girl was gracious about not being able to come into town with the family, and insisted, before Candy left, on personally handing the older girl her own favorite, cherished tambourine — almost as if she were passing over the baton in a relay race.

Although chomping at the bit to get started, Candy snuck away long enough to find the Captain, who was in the attic, to bid him goodbye, and then, downstairs, gave Jonathan, Martha and her mother a hug, promising to tell them everything that happened while she was in town. Amid cries of "be good's" and "be careful's" from the Muirs and Martha, and barks from Scruffy, the group took off, three snow plows, the flatbed and the van, behind and in front of the station wagon, guarding the Partridges every foot of the way.

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Carolyn sighed. An hour had gone by, and she just wasn't concentrating at all. After the gang had left, she had moved her typewriter, typing paper and research notes for her next article down to the alcove where she could try to get some work done without disturbing Tracy, who, Daniel reported, had fussed only a bit before falling back to sleep; placated by two more stories, and him singing her another lullaby. Martha had a batch of cookies in the oven and was trying to get the ironing caught up while watching her 'soaps' — grateful for the peace and quiet.

"Blast." Carolyn yanked another piece of paper out of the typewriter, crunched it up into a ball and made a 'basket' into the ashcan by the wall.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Jonathan asked, popping his head around the doorway immediately, as if he had been waiting for a chance to catch his mother's attention.

"Oh, nothing, sweetie, just can't concentrate. Too nervous about tonight and wondering what Candy and the rest of the kids are doing, I guess. What are you doing down here? I thought you said you wanted to work on your model."

"I do, but I couldn't concentrate either," Jonathan sighed. "It's too quiet around here."

"I think that's the problem!" Carolyn grinned. "It has been noisy around here for the past few days — quite a change!" She gave her son a curious look. "You ARE all right, aren't you? Not sorry you aren't in town singing with Candy and everyone?"

Jonathan scratched his ear, looking, for a moment, a bit like Captain Gregg when he did the same thing. "Maybe just a little," the boy frowned. "Even though I know it's dumb to think like that. I can't play an instrument, and I can't sing, and really, Candy is more hung up on that stuff than I am, even though I do LIKE the Partridges, a lot." He sighed again. "Chris asked me if I wanted to come and watch, but that would be dumb, because all I would be doing is sitting there for four hours, and I could do that at home, so I decided to not go. Besides, I think I'd really rather be surprised tonight."

"I think that was a very smart thing to do, Jonathan." Carolyn smiled and gave her son's blonde head a tousle.

"Aw, Mom!" Jonathan brushed her hand away, embarrassed, but Carolyn could tell he wasn't too upset. "Still doesn't mean that I'm not bored!"

"Well, I'm not accomplishing anything here, either," she grinned at her son. "Would you like to do something together? We have a few hours before everyone gets back for dinner, and all."

"Sure!" Jonathan brightened. "Like what?"

"Good question." Carolyn nibbled on her thumbnail, deep in thought. "It might still be a bit cold to take a walk on the beach — Double Solitaire? Chinese Checkers, maybe?"

"Naa." The boy shook his head again. "I've been doing stuff like that for three days now. And I don't feel like Twister, either."

"How would you like to go ice skating, Jonathan?" Daniel Gregg appeared, carrying Jonathan's skates. "I've checked. The pond is frozen solid."

The boy's eyes lit up. "That would be neat, Captain!" He looked at his mother and then back at the seaman. "What about Mom?" His face fell. "I already asked her to do something with me."

"What ABOUT Mom?" Carolyn grinned.

"You want to go skating?" Jonathan looked at her doubtfully. "Really?"

Daniel Gregg lifted his eyebrows. "You, my dear?"

"Well, now I'm hurt!" Carolyn gave the two a playful pout. "And just what makes you think I can't ice-skate?"

"Uhm," said Jonathan.

"Well," said the Captain.

"Because you never have before now?" Jonathan asked.

"I must say, the lad has a point," said the seaman said, nervously tugging his ear. "I don't think I have ever seen you on skates either."

"I used to ice-skate at rinks all the time when I was a teenager," Carolyn sniffed. "And I'll have you know I won two medals for our college team. Mother just sent me my old skates last week. She found them when she was clearing out the closet in my old bedroom. She had them cleaned up and whatnot, and sent them to me and said she thought I'd get a charge out of seeing them again."

"I dunno, Mom," said Jonathan. "What if you fall down?"

"If I fall down, I'll get back up again," his mother laughed.

The Captain scratched his chin. "I'm not sure about this, my dear."

"What is it, Captain? Mad because you can't skate, too?" she added, teasingly.

"Who says I can't skate?" Instantly an old-fashioned pair of ice skates appeared, slung over the seaman's shoulder. "I'll have you know, dear lady, that your children aren't the only ones who have skated on that pond! I've been skating there for more than a hundred years!"

It was Carolyn's turn to be surprised. "You have? But you're a . . . well . . . how . . . ? Never mind," she shrugged. "I don't want to know. Give me a few minutes to go change into something suitable, and tell Martha where we are going so she can keep an ear open for Tracy."

"Fifteen minutes?" the seaman asked, pulling an old-fashioned pocket-watch out of his jacket pocket and glancing at it.

"Fifteen," she answered, and mentally, she crossed her fingers that the new skating costume her mother had sent along with the skates would fit.

"Fifteen it is," he nodded.

What a lovely day this is going to be! Carolyn thought, and she headed toward the stairs.

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Carolyn smiled to herself as she walked back toward Gull Cottage, remembering the day she had just had with Jonathan and Daniel. For starters, the weather had warmed up a bit between the time the men had arrived for the bus and everyone had left for town, and there was almost no wind a short while later when the three made their way to the small pond near the house.

The spirit of Gull Cottage had been . . . well . . . impressed, for lack of a better word, at her appearance after she had put on her skates and removed her long winter coat.

Silently, his blue-eyed gaze had started at her feet and worked its way up to her face. Her outfit was made of cobalt blue wool. The top was long sleeved, with an ever-so-slightly-scooped neck, and trimmed with white fur. There was a short skating skirt that swirled as she moved, trimmed the same way, and to go with the ensemble, a short, woolen cape with a small hood, matching the rest of the costume — it, too, trimmed around the face and bottom in fur. Matching gloves and tights, in a slightly lighter shade of silvery blue finished the ensemble, and there were small silver bells tied to her skates.

"You look . . . wonderful," he had said, finally. "Skating costumes have certainly changed since MY day! Are you sure you won't be too . . . chilly?"

"Thank-you!" She had smiled back, suddenly feeling anything BUT chilly. "I'm fine. This . . ." she had gestured to her outfit. " . . . Is quite warm! Not at all a 'low-cut handkerchief!' But it must be quite a change from the high necked, long-sleeved, long-skirted, seal-muffed outfits the ladies of the 1860's had to wear!"

The seaman had looked back at her then, saying softly, "It's not the dress, it's the wearer. You, Madam . . . you would look like a queen if you were wearing a burlap sack."

For a moment, Carolyn had thought Daniel was going to offer his hand to escort her down the embankment to the pond, but he had pulled himself up short, then disappeared, reappearing in the middle of the frozen pond, daring her and Jonathan to catch up with him.

Time had flown after that. The late morning and early afternoon had become a whirl of figure-eight's, axles, leaps, races, and only a few falls . . . and, much too quickly, it seemed, Daniel Gregg had reached into his pocket, had pulled out his watch, and had announced that it was after three, and if she and Jonathan wanted to be back at the house before Candy and the others returned, they had better "hurry along." He had been right, too. The Muir's station wagon came up Bay Road as the three walked up the other way. Daniel disappeared, and Jonathan and Carolyn met Shirley and the others just outside the stone gate.

"Beautiful outfit, Carrie," Shirley said. "You look marvelous! I take it you and Jonathan weren't too bored without us?"

"Not at all," Carolyn shook her head. "It's been a perfect day so far, and now I am looking forward to an even better evening!"

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"Welcome back, Mrs. Muir!" Martha smiled broadly as she opened the door. "Did you and Ca . . . Jonathan have a good time?" she covered. "Hello, Mrs. Partridge. Hi, kids!" she waved at the rest of the party. "Jonathan, don't forget to hang up your coat. Same goes for the rest of you! Cookies and hot chocolate are in the living room. Tracy is awake. She's in there, waiting for you."

"Thanks, Martha!" Laurie gave the housekeeper's arm a squeeze as everyone trooped by and made their way inside.

"Mom, I can't wait for you to hear us sing tonight!" Candy glowed at her mother as she sat down in the living room. "Keith's new song is the most! But it was easy to learn, just like he said."

"Told you," Tracy commented. "Keith writes great songs. People love to sing them."

"Thanks, Trace! Candy has a natural ear," Keith added to Carolyn as he poured himself a cup of coffee and helped himself to a sugar cookie. "You have the piano — bet Candy would pick it up in no time, and if that's not her thing, she really ought to join a choir, just as soon as she can." He sat in the rocking chair and took a swallow of his coffee. "I really mean it, Candy," he added. "Talent like yours shouldn't go to waste."

"Thanks, Keith!" the girl answered. "Choir, or another singing group would be neat, Mom," Candy went on. "There are two at the junior high — the mixed choir, and a new one they are forming called The Northern Lights — they do more popular stuff, and they dance, too. Miss Tate, the choir director, was at the theater today when we got there. She was a part of the cleaning crew. She told me she wants me to try out, next year."

"That's fantastic, honey!" Carolyn commented, sipping her coffee. "I interviewed Miss Tate for the Schooner Bay Beacon a little while ago. She has a reputation for being one of the best music directors in the state."

"That's what Miss Stoddard said!" Candy giggled. "She was at the theater too. I'm looking forward to it already!"

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Shirley asked her daughter, who had curled up next to her on the divan.

"Fine," said Tracy in a small voice. "But it was lonesome today."

"I think she's better, too," said Martha, and she turned to Carolyn. "She woke up once while you thr . . . two were gone, and we read a story, and then watched TV for a little while. I took her temperature and it's gone down another few points." Martha looked at her watch. "That was about an hour ago."

The Captain appeared to Carolyn and stood beside the sofa, near Tracy. "Good," he commented. "It looks like that blasted medicine is starting to take hold. Willow Bark would have been faster." Carolyn shot him a look of . . . warning? or was it something else? And he stopped his tirade before it started.

"What about you guys?" Carolyn queried, turning to Shirley. "Are you going back to practice again before the show?"

"Naa," said Danny. "Everything's perfect. If we practice any more, we'll be over-practiced."

"Besides, we need to rest our vocal chords a bit," said Chris.

"I think if we get to the theater about six-fifteen we'll be fine," Shirley nodded. "Just enough time to check the instruments again. Mr. Gregg — C.G., I mean, gave me the key to the theater and said I could give it back to him tonight. And the PTA ladies said they plan on a small coffee and cake reception after the show."

Martha rolled her eyes. "Was it Mrs. Post, by any chance, the lady who talked to you?" Shirley nodded. "Then it will be anything but small. I imagine the ladies'll make a big thing out of it — they do it every time!"

"She asked if you were bringing your chocolate chip cookies, tonight," Shirley said.

Martha nodded. "Yes. Mrs. Tuttle phoned me here after you left."

"Reception . . . Guess that means autograph signing, too," said Keith, resignedly.

"Could be worse," Chris added. "That Mister Gregg was saying if he had more time that he could have sold t-shirts."

"Heaven forbid!" Carolyn laughed.

Jonathan shook his head. "I still laugh when I think about our theater, though."

"Why?" Chris asked. "It's got great acoustics."

"It's soundproof, too," said Danny. "As we left, I heard some girl say they had tried listening all day and couldn't hear us sing at all."

"But the lighting system needs a little work," Laurie added. "More gels, and another spotlight might be nice, and we had to get a little creative when it came to plugging everything in, but for one night, and things being what they are, it's livable."

"What did you mean, Jonathan?" Chris persisted. "Why do you want to laugh?"

"Oh — 'cause that place used to be a cod liver oil plant," Jonathan explained. "Claymore owns it, and had it converted into a little theater. Mom was in a show there a couple of years ago."

"Eww . . ." Chris made a face. "I'm glad it doesn't SMELL like one any more."

"A show?" Shirley asked. "Carrie, I didn't know you were in to acting."

"I'm not — I mean I wasn't," Carolyn explained. "Claymore asked me if I would, and I wasn't going to, but, well, I . . ."

"I forbade you to do it, so of course you did the opposite!" the Captain smiled, shaking his head. "I should have learned my lesson then, but of course it took me a few more times before the message began to sink in."

". . . I was sort of dared into it," Carolyn said graciously, glancing at the seaman. "So I ended up acting in it, after all. The lead, no less."

"I did all the behind the scenes stuff," Martha recalled. "Wardrobe mistress, props, sound effects, general "go-fer" — next time Claymore asks me, if he ever does, I'm hiding in the cellar until he is gone. That show was a disaster from beginning to end."

"Claymore lost money?" Danny asked. "Bet he must have hated that."

"Oh, no — " Jonathan cut back in again. "Mom told me. He wanted the play to be a big dramatic thing, but after all the goofs and the sets falling apart, the audience thought it was a comedy, and everyone loved it."

"Sounds like it would be funny to see," said Laurie. "Did you ever find out what happened? Why the problems?"

"Nope," Martha grinned and snuck a sly look at Carolyn, who gave an equally surreptitious look to the Captain, and Tracy looked in the seaman's direction as well, and grinned. "At the time, we were all just glad the show was a success, after all."

"Was it really funny?" Chris turned back to Jonathan.

"Dunno," said Jonathan. "I heard it was. But it was at night, and we were just kids then, and didn't get to go."

"Still don't think that was fair," Candy commented. "We got to go to the rehearsals. But yeah, Mom hired Nancy Reed to baby-sit us." Candy stopped abruptly. I can't believe I just said BABY-sit! she thought. "And the show only ran one night," she added quickly. She glanced at Keith, wondering if he had noticed the comment, but he hadn't seemed to. "So that was that . . . of course Mom doesn't use sitters any more. We're too grown up."

"Besides," Jonathan added. "Martha or the Ca — " he broke off. "That kind of thing doesn't happen too often. Someone is usually here." Shirley's hand flew over her mouth.

"Baby-sitter!" she gasped. "Blast it, I am an idiot! What about Tracy?" She looked down at the little girl beside her.

"What about Tracy?" Jonathan asked, bewildered.

"Who's going to stay here and look after her if we're all at the concert?"

There was a beat, and everyone looked at everyone else.

"Hire a babysitter?" Danny asked, but he looked bleak.

"Not a chance," said Candy. "I talked to Mr. Hampton — he's helped Claymore with the advance ticket sales. I think everyone in town is going to be there tonight . . . especially anyone between twelve and sixteen — and lots of others, too."

"Miss Stoddard, maybe?" Carolyn said doubtfully. "She's on the fussy side, but I trust her implicitly — she's probably OVER-take care of Tracy."

Candy shook her head again. "Sorry, Mom. Believe it or not, Miss Stoddard is coming to the concert! She showed me her ticket this morning. She's really excited about it."

"I don't believe it," said Jonathan, nonplused. "Old Maid . . . Miss Stoddard? Why?"

"She told me she has been trying to get more 'with it'," Candy giggled. "Her brother and great-niece have been visiting here over Christmas. I guess it's made her think a bit. Now she's trying to get more into new things." Candy paused. "I think it's groovy. Little too late for me because she's not my teacher anymore, but still neat."

"Well, I guess the best thing to do is I'll stay here and take care of Tracy," said Martha. The housekeeper smiled bravely, but anyone with half an eye could tell that she was disappointed at missing the show. "After all, I've heard you sing here — like Danny said, 'a private performance by the Partridge Family — what more could anyone ask for?'"

"No way, Martha!" Laurie protested. "We're counting on you being there!" The other Partridges nodded.

"It wouldn't be the same without you, Martha," Jonathan added, giving the housekeeper a soulful look.

"I wish there was something I could do," said the Captain to Carolyn, who, until now, had been relatively quiet. "I wonder, Martha said Tracy's fever is down, and she hasn't been coughing as much, maybe of you bundled her up well and she stayed nice and warm, she could go? It would only be for a couple of hours, and it is warming up outside. Tracy should be in town with her family."

"I want to come," Tracy stated flatly, looking first at the seaman, and then at her mother. Shirley's eyes were doubtful, then Tracy added: "If I can't go, maybe the Captain can stay here and baby-sit me and that way everyone else can go?"

The seaman shook his head to the little girl as a reminder, but smiled.

Startled, Shirley looked at her daughter. "Captain, Tracy?" and then to Carolyn she added: "See? Tracy is still seeing her Captain, so she still has a fever."

"She's down to ninety-nine, actually," said Martha. "That's almost normal."

"Jonathan said there was a Captain here for a while," said Candy, not adding that it turned out her brother was right all the time. "I think the Spirit of Captain Gregg is here, even if he CAN'T be seen." She gave her brother a surreptitious wink. "After all, he lived here and died here, and like Mom said a long time ago, the thoughts and feelings of a brave man don't die with him, they live on. I think maybe that's what Tracy means?"

"I know I sure wish HE was really here!" Laurie exclaimed, dusting her hands free of cookie crumbs. "His portrait is magnificent — that reminds me, I almost have my drawing finished. I want to get that done this afternoon before the show."

"So, what about Tracy, Mom?" Keith asked. "I think she should go. Whether she is singing or not, she should be there."

"She'll sit with us," Jonathan added. "And if you want to make sure she says warm and stuff, I'll bring lots of cough drops, and I won't let her take off her coat. She'll stay warm!"

"I don't think that will be necessary, Jonathan," Shirley smiled. "Well, maybe Tracy should go — she probably should get out a little before we all get on the bus tomorrow. It would give her a chance to get her sea-legs, as it were." The blonde frowned for a moment. "Now, why did I say it that way?"

"Sounds like you've picked up a little slang, Shirl," Carolyn grinned. "We say it all the time . . . well? What do you say?"

Shirley looked at her daughter's big brown eyes and then at the rest of the group and shrugged, resigned. "Okay, Tracy. You can go." The little girl looked pleased, then her mother added: "One more nap between now and then, okay?" Tracy nodded and then her mother said, "I might even join you. I do better if I can catch a wink before a show, anyway."

"Sounds like a plan," Carolyn nodded.

"I think so, too," Martha agreed, and the others nodded their heads. "I'll have a light supper ready about a quarter to five — that should give us enough time to eat, and drive into town. Ed called, by the way, Mrs. Muir. He'll be here about five-forty-five, with Mr. Hampton's car. No way to fit all ten of us in the station wagon! Your bus is all fixed and waiting in front of the theater, Mrs. Partridge," she added. "You can drive it back here tonight after the concert and be ready to go tomorrow morning."

"Battle-stations?" Shirley looked at her children.

"Man the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!" Candy answered, and on that note, the crew in the living room disbanded for the next hour.

December 26, 1970

As planned, the two cars carrying the Partridges and Muirs reached the Schooner Bay Theater at exactly six-thirty. A long line had already formed around the building, and Candy could see her friends from school, and other kids she didn't recognize carrying signs like Partridges, Forever and I Love You, Keith! Clearly, the concert was the ONLY place to be that night. Candy, sitting between Carolyn and Shirley in the front seat of the station wagon, gulped a bit, and Carolyn could feel her little girl tense up.

"Maybe this is a big mistake," Candy said nervously. "Me performing, I mean. You guys could manage without me. I just know I'm going to get up there and look like a creep, or something. They might even boo me off the stage, or laugh."

"No one would EVER boo you off the stage!" Shirley said.

"No way, Candy!" said Keith, from the back seat. "Like Laurie said before, we've adopted you for the night. You're a Partridge, you're a member of this group and you're singing. Anyone starts anything, they have to answer to me!"

"Yeah," Danny added. "You have stage fright, that's all. Looks like you get the mom-type of it!"

"What's that mean?" Candy jittered, as the two cars circled around to the back of the theater at Shirley and Keith's request:

"If we go in the front way, I'll get mobbed."

"You remember, Candy," said Shirley. "I told you — that first morning we were here, in the kitchen."

"I . . . don't remember," said Candy, quietly. "I just remember bumping into Keith and . . ."

"Sure you do," said Shirley, gently. "It was later, when you were doing the dishes with Laurie, remember? I told you I was a nervous wreck the whole drive to Las Vegas, and getting ready, and the kids practically had to force me on stage and then I started singing and THEY froze? You get stage fright the same way I do. You do your shaking ahead of time. When you get on stage, you'll go like a pro!"

Carolyn stopped the car and opened the door. "Come on, sweetie," She gave Candy's hand a squeeze. "First things, first. Inside and back stage. You are going to be great."

"You're my mother, you have to tell me that," Candy protested.

"But I'm not, and I know you will be great, too!" Danny cut in. "Come on inside. You can't let everyone down now!"

"Please, Candy?" added Keith, giving the little girl a look that had won over many a girl's heart — not to mention at least another ten-thousand teen-aged girls all over the country.

"Okay . . ." Candy got out of the car, still dragging her feet. "I'll try! But if everyone laughs, or I throw up, right there on stage, don't say I didn't tell you!"

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Carolyn looked at her watch, nervously, as she, Jonathan, Martha and Tracy took their places in the audience. The concert was due to start in fifteen minutes and the theater was packed. Much to Shirley Partridge's surprise, Carolyn had insisted on sitting in an aisle seat — saying she got a little claustrophobic when she sat in the middle of a row. Of course, that was just an excuse. As long as she sat at the end of a row, Daniel could join her as planned, and stand next to her for the concert without appearing to anyone else. Martha and Jonathan were in on the fact that the Captain would be attending, as well as Tracy, who was still seeing the seaman, although she hadn't slipped to her family again and mentioned the spectre.

"I'll believe Candy Muir is performing with them when I see it." A child's voice came from the audience — two rows behind Carolyn.

"I don't believe it either," came another voice, this one also a child, but male. "I think it's all a rumor. "My mother says Mrs. Muir is showing off, just because the Partridge Family's bus happened to break down in front of her house."

Carolyn's cheeks flamed as she recognized the voices of Penelope Hassenhammer and Danny Shoemaker, Candy and Jonathan's two most un-favorite classmates.

"I still think if they needed a fill-in for that little girl my Danny should have been asked instead," Jane Shoemaker whispered a whisper to Gladys Hassenhammer, too loud not to be overheard. "After all, he's been taking lessons for two years, and . . ."

"And you, Madam, would try the patience of Job himself!" came a disembodied, very audible voice, unmistakably that of Daniel Gregg. "And Candace Muir has more talent in her little finger than your obnoxious little . . . your son has in his entire body, if he practiced until he . . ."

"Daniel!" Carolyn projected desperately, willing him to hear her thoughts . . . could he? . . . "Please, it's not worth it! We know the truth!"

"Who said that?" came the nervous voice of Jane Shoemaker. "How dare you?"

"Be a lady, my dear Mrs. Shoemaker, even though it may be a novelty for you!" the seaman continued.

"Daniel, PLEASE!" Carolyn projected again.

"For you, dear lady."

"Well, I never!" came Jane Shoemaker's voice again. "Who . . . where are you?" No answer came, of course, but the muttering behind the Muir family ceased.

Martha snorted and poked her employer in the ribs. "Wish I said that," she muttered. "I think he's shut her up, but good! Remind me to make him that cake he likes so much — the one with the chocolate and cinnamon." She chuckled. "I'd put brandy in the batter if he could tell ME how to make Jane Shoemaker shut up!"

The housekeeper felt a short, soft kiss on her cheek like the touch of a butterfly. "Thank you, dear lady!" the voice came in her ear. "You know, I'll hold you to that!" And the seaman appeared, standing beside Carolyn.

Even in the half-light of the theater, Carolyn could see the blush on Martha's cheeks. "I mean it, Captain Gregg," she said softly. "And if you're not careful, you may get Blueberry Slump in the next day or so, too!"

The sea captain leaned back over Carolyn to Martha and winked at her. "Anything prepared by you is a treat, my dear Martha!" he said, then moved back to his place in the aisle, and added to Carolyn in a low tone: "The show will start in just a few minutes, my dear. I know I shouldn't have checked — I should have just come here and behaved like any other member of the audience, but blast it, I am a spirit, and empowered with certain capabilities. I just had to go make sure Candy was all right. They are just about ready to start."

"How is she?" Carolyn murmured.

"Still a little green, and she has a death-grip on her tambourine, but Mrs. Partridge and Laurie told her that she can get her sea-legs a little at a time," said the seaman. "They said if she can't open her mouth, which she is having a great trouble doing at the moment, to just move her lips, don't worry about singing, and just play the tambourine, and work her way into it."

"Did YOU say anything to her?" Carolyn asked quietly.

"No, dear lady. I thought it best not to, in this case. I got the feeling, somehow, that she wouldn't believe a word I said."

"I could be back there and she wouldn't take it from me, either!" Carolyn chuckled. "I think this is one thing that Candy will have to work through herself."

"Fear not, my dear!" the seaman grinned and sat down on vacant air next to Carolyn. "She is YOUR daughter, and she has spunk. I have every faith that when that curtain opens she will perform like . . . what is that phrase? A trooper!"

"I hope so, Daniel!" Carolyn whispered again. "Just a hint of the teenage years to come, I suppose!" She started as she realized what the spirit was doing. "What ARE you sitting on!"

"Don't ask," he smiled. "Suffice to say, I didn't feel like standing all evening. I plan on enjoying myself as much as HUMANLY possible!" He cocked an ear toward the stage. "Shh . . . I believe they are about to begin."

The lights in the theater went down, and then, in Claymore Gregg's surprisingly impressive voice came: "LADIES' AND GENTLEMEN . . . The PARTRIDGE FAMILY!"

The group started singing, and Carolyn gripped Martha's right hand with her left, and the arm of her chair with her right, wishing as she never had before that her other hand could be encased in Daniel's. Sneaking a glance at the seaman 'seated' beside her, she grinned. The spirit was — as pale as a ghost! She looked at Candy, who was now singing clear and strong with the rest of the group, coincidentally, the girl's favorite song, I Think I Love You.

Carolyn smiled as the Partridges continued. Candy was fine.

As the notes of the song faded away, the group bowed, and Shirley Partridge make her way to the front microphone where Keith was standing.

"Good evening!" She made another small bow. "Good evening! We're very happy to be here tonight!" The audience broke out into more wild applause. Holding up her hand to request silence, Shirley continued. "You may notice, my family looks slightly different tonight!" This comment was answered by more applause, and a cry that Carolyn recognized as Candy's volleyball buddy, Quentin.

"Way to go, Candy!" and the boy let off a loud whistle.

Shirley smiled again. "For those of you who haven't heard the story, we were driving to my parent's house in Philly after our Christmas concert tour when we had an accident — arriving late at night at Gull Cottage . . ." Shirley went on with the tale, of that first night, enthralling the audience. "And," she concluded, "since my daughter Tracy was unable to perform tonight, Candace . . ." she gestured back to Candy, and waited until Claymore danced a separate spotlight onto her, ". . . the daughter of one of my oldest and dearest friends, graciously stepped into her shoes. I can't begin to tell her how grateful we all are to her, to all of you for welcoming us so kindly, allowing us to perform, fixing our bus, and now . . ." she paused, "ON WITH THE SHOW!"

The familiar notes of I Can Feel your Heartbeat began, and by the time it was over, and the third song, Lay It On the Line started, it was hard to believe that Candy wasn't a Partridge. As Keith had said earlier evidence of Candy's natural talent was shining out for all of Schooner Bay to see.

Carolyn, who had had her chair in a death grip all her own, in spite of her brave words to her daughter earlier about relaxing and not being nervous, began to relax. Things were going beautifully. As entranced as she was with the show, however, she was curious — what of the Hassenhammers and Jane Shoemaker, and Danny? What sort of other nattering remarks would that unlikely bunch make? Her fears were set to rest when a certain slightly roguish sea captain leaned in and whispered:

"Oh, my dear! I wish you could see that harpy, Jane Shoemaker's face! Pity it's not St. Patrick's Day — she'd be in fine form for it!"

As "Show Ya" rang out, it would indeed appear that Candy was showing the two harpies what she was capable of.

Carolyn giggled. "And Mrs. Hassenhammer?" she whispered. "Is she . . .?"

"She's starting to 'groove to it,' as Candy says." he whispered. But Penelope and Danny look rather bleak."

"I can't believe how different their sound is — even from the way we heard them in the living room!" Martha murmured. "Let alone Candy's record on that old stereo of ours! Fantastic!"

"Guess Chris was right about the acoustics in here," Carolyn whispered back. "Maybe because it was a warehouse? You know, the walls, or floor, or something! What a great place to put on other musical shows — maybe we can book other acts here."

"May the powers spare us!" Daniel commented. "Claymore, Ed, Abner, Seth and Henry will decide to form their own rock group — with Claymore on lead . . . something!"

The Partridge Family performed one song after another, mostly songs that Carolyn and crew had heard the first night at Gull Cottage, ending with one of Tracy's favorites, Bandala..

As the last notes of Bandala faded, the curtains closed and the house lights came up, signaling the end of the first half of the show. The applause was deafening, and for a moment, Carolyn wondered if the screaming audience was going to rush the stage. They didn't, but instead made their way out to the hall, where Mrs. Jenkins, Mrs. Dawes, and other ladies from the PTA were manning the refreshment table. Jonathan left to find his friends, also milling about, and then Mrs. Post approached her.

"What a DARLING little girl!" she gushed, gazing down at Tracy, and patted the child on the head. "Oh, dear! We're just so glad you and your family got stranded here!"

Martha snorted, and Carolyn heard the Captain's invisible chuckle at her elbow. "That's Mrs. Post!" and Carolyn watched him materialize — just to her. "Ever the soul of tact."

"She means well," Carolyn said softly. "Not everyone has your flair for words!"

"Thank you, my dear!" Daniel grinned and then moved aside as Doris Tuttle approached them.

"Tracy?" Doris Tuttle said softly. She gave the child a tender look. "Honey, I know you would rather be up on stage with your family tonight, but I just wanted to say thank you. Your family has helped make this a wonderful Christmas for all of Schooner Bay, and especially for our seamen's home."

"Thanks," said Tracy, simply. "You know . . ." she whispered confidentially to the older woman, "It's kinda fun! I've never got to see my family perform before 'cause I'm up there!"

"A charming philosophy, my dear!" The older woman answered, and gave her a grandmotherly hug. "I'm just so glad you are feeling better! The whole town heard about you feeling so poorly, and we felt terribly that we couldn't get out to Gull Cottage and help your mommy and Mrs. Muir nurse you."

"Heaven forbid!" The seaman rolled his eyes. "That would have been all we needed . . . a pack of well-meaning — " He broke off, seeing Carolyn's face. "Yes, my dear. I like Mrs. Tuttle, and yes, she has sincere heart, But really!" He shrugged. "Given a choice, I . . . well — " He broke off, deciding the discretion was the better part of valor. "I think that perhaps we should be getting back into the theater. The lights just flickered, which means the second half of the show should be starting in a few minutes."

"Or Claymore needs to get a little more electrical work done!" Carolyn chuckled, as she, Martha and Tracy made their way back up the aisle, passing Jane Shoemaker, who was stubbornly rooted to her chair, and Carolyn realized that the woman had stayed inside the theater for the entire intermission. Jonathan ran up, joining them.

Martha waited until they were seated before she whispered: "Well, guess we didn't make any points with that old battlea . . . that is I imagine Mrs. Shoemaker isn't pleased, but as she never is, there's really nothing to really worry about!" Carolyn laughed as the Captain appeared and 'sat' beside her.

The second half of the show opened with a Christmas medley similar to the one the group had practiced at Gull Cottage the day after they had arrived; My Christmas Card to You, the song Keith had written, was received well, but there were additional songs also — the Partridge versions of Frosty the Snowman, Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Sleigh Ride, and then, on a quieter note, The Little Drummer Boy, which included a beautiful drum accompaniment by Chris, then Shirley taking the lead on The Christmas Song and again on O Holy Night. There were a few other tunes as the mood slowly shifted back to a lighter tone, with the group getting a few moans and a few laughs when they sang their more upbeat versions of Winter Wonderland, and Let it Snow before ending the Christmas set.

When the applause died down a bit, Shirley announced that the next group of songs would be ones from their new album, Up To Date, which was due to be recorded the following month. Their fans cheered at the thought that they were the 'premier audience,' and without preamble, Laurie started the beautiful keyboard intro of I'll Meet You Halfway. Carolyn remembered Laurie mentioning that the studio recording would include violins — something, of course, they couldn't do for the performance in Schooner Bay.

One tune blended into another and Carolyn watched her daughter perform as if she had been doing it all her life:

Next to Carolyn, the Captain rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's amazing how truly lovely some of these tunes are," he whispered, in her ear, even though no one else could hear him. Carolyn could have sworn a few times during the evening that she could practically feel his warm breath. She could not know how he was thinking how closely the words of that last song mirrored his emotions. Until the Muirs barreled into his life, he'd felt low, and trapped. Now, because of them, of her, he was content to be on earth.

"Candy has been singing on all of them!" Carolyn murmured back to the seaman. "I sort of assumed she would do well on the songs from the first album, but she looks like she's having even more fun with the new ones. She did mention learning the song Keith finished writing on Christmas Day — I wonder when they are doing that one?" Carolyn turned back to the stage where the group was finishing the next song, Somebody Wants to Love You.

Then, as if they had heard what she had said only a few moments before, the group pulled to a halt and Carolyn watched as Keith took his microphone from its stand. Rotating his shoulders slightly to remove the kinks, he stepped forward to the apron of the stage and motioned for the audience's attention.

"Thank you! Thank you, you've been a fabulous audience . . ." Here, there was a moan, most particularly from a group of girls stationed near front row center.

"No — Not yet!" one moaned. "It's not over yet, is it?" The teen idol smiled down at them from the stage, producing a small shriek from another girl, and Keith continued.

"Gull Cottage not only turned out to be our shelter in the storm, but also a special source of inspiration," Keith continued. "Once we arrived, and got settled and all, Carolyn Muir — " Keith motioned toward the general direction of Carolyn and her family. " — was gracious enough to let me wander around her house and work on a song I have had stuck in my head since we started driving toward my grandparent's house in Philly. Unfortunately, a tune was all I had . . . my lyrics muse simply wouldn't cooperate!" The young man smiled and paused for a moment.

"Then finally, thanks to Santa Claus, who made a special stop at Gull Cottage on Christmas Eve, I found my lyrics at last — inside my Christmas present, a hand-written poetry journal." Keith looked out at the Muirs and Martha in the audience. "I almost missed these lyrics all together," he added. "They were near the back of the book, after several blank pages. I don't know what you all will think when you hear them, but I find these words fresh and timeless — as though they could have been written only last year or last month, or yesterday. The author of these poems is unknown, because the poems are unsigned. I'm not sure quite why, but I like to think the words are by the man — legend, really, whose house we have been staying in."

Carolyn started and leaned toward the seaman next to her. "Daniel, did you . . ."

"In any case," Keith continued, "since the author is unknown, I credit the spirit of Captain Daniel Gregg for this song's creation, and I hope the Captain is happy with our 'collaboration'."Without further preamble, the lead singer of the Partridges stepped back to his place with his family, adjusted his guitar strap on his shoulder and soon the sweet strains of string, bass and keyboard came pouring out. Silently, the Captain agreed. Aye, if only he could speak those words of love, that WOULD indeed be the day.

A guitar bridge filled in a break in the lyrics and Carolyn turned to Daniel in astonishment. Did he really feel that they belonged together, like sand and sea, or the words and music? "Daniel, your song is . . ." she started, but stopped again as the seaman put his index finger a centimeter's distance from her lips, and Keith started the next lines, making each wonder if one day their love would not be forbidden, if they could ever speak of it.

The verse started to repeat and Carolyn spoke in low tones to the seafarer next to her. "Daniel . . ." she whispered. "You can't fool me! Not this time! You HAVE been writing again . . . that journal . . . the book you gave Keith . . . it was yours! You wrote the words to this song!"

"You are the writer, my dear, not I . . ." the seaman protested.

"In a pig's eye, my dear Captain!" she grinned.

"Well, perhaps I had something to do with it . . ." he shrugged, and his focus returned to the stage, but Carolyn's eyes were trained on the seaman.

Yes, if ever they could be together, that would be the day.

Schooner Bay Partridge Family aficionados talked about the concert . . . the night, the fun, the music . . . for years. After two more encores, the house lights were brought up again, and the group bowed. Shirley Partridge stepped forward, and above the deafening roar of applause and cheers, thanked the audience, and then Carolyn and her family — motioning for them to come up to the stage. After a few half-hearted protests, Jonathan, Martha, Carolyn and Tracy did just that. Pulling Candy forward from where she was standing by Laurie and Chris, Keith gave the girl a loving hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Carolyn grinned and snuck a look at Penelope Hassenhammer, who was looking, well, not much happier than Jane Shoemaker had looked earlier (according to Daniel). Candy took Keith's hug and very public kiss in stride, kissing the young man back, and then, as they all grasped hands, the Partridges and the Muirs took one more group bow.

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The rest of the evening passed in a surreal blur, yet at the same time, it still dragged for Carolyn. She was dying to ask the Captain more about Keith's new song, and just when he had written the beautiful words Keith had sung, but Daniel had disappeared before the reception — forcing her to wait until she and her family had finished the obligatory chit-chat and endless questions: . . . What are the Partridges really like? Did they practice every night? Was it really true you didn't recognize them at first? When did you and Shirley Partridge go to school together, again? Do you have any pictures of the two of you? Are you going to visit them in California?

It had been a wonderful, perfect, magical night — one that she wouldn't have missed for anything in the world, but her hand ached from all the enthusiastic shaking it had received, and she was getting more tired by the minute. Finally, however, the evening was over. Shirley had pleaded an early release, saying that Tracy needed her sleep, and the other Partridges and Muirs seemed ready to call it a day, too.

The drive home was quiet — Shirley driving the family's multi-colored bus that carried her brood and the musical instruments, and Carolyn bringing her crew home in the station wagon. She sighed as she pulled up in front of Gull Cottage. Daniel had not reappeared in the car for the two-mile drive home, and Carolyn wondered what had happened. She glanced toward the widow's-walk — no trace of him there, and she was more than a little anxious to speak with him.

"Olly, Olly oxen, free!" Shirley called, getting out of the bus. She watched her children descend the bus stairs and stand on the flagstone walk and looked at the stack of equipment with a tired smile. "Okay, guys. One more time. Let's get the instruments inside for the night. Keith? You think the amps and whatnot will be okay if they stay on the bus?"

Keith shook his head. "I'd rather not. But don't worry about it. We just have to get them off the bus, up the walk and parked in the foyer somewhere. Laurie, Danny and I can handle it. Chris should probably get inside, and ready for bed, and . . ." he nodded to the very sleepy looking little girl. "Tracy needs to get inside, too."

Shirley looked down at her daughter. "You probably have a point. The last thing she needs is to be standing around out here."

"I think Keith is right," Carolyn added, coming up and putting one arm around her friend and another on Tracy's shoulder. "Tracy's almost well. I'd hate to see her get sick again, now."

"I want to take her temperature, too," Shirley said. "She feels almost normal,"

"I can help with the instruments, Mom," said Candy, now out of the station wagon and heading toward the bus. "I'm part of the crew too. But Jonathan is tired. He and Chris should go on in."

Carolyn smiled at Candy's big-sisterly tone. "Thanks, sweetie." She turned to Jonathan who had, with Martha's help made his way, sleepily, out of the car. "Come on, Shirl. Let's get these three upstairs to bed." Gently, Carolyn guided her son and Chris up the walk and inside the front door of Gull Cottage, her friend following behind her with Tracy.

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Up in the master bedroom, Shirley regarded her little girl, now curled up on her cot. She checked the thermometer twice — carefully, Tracy looking at her all the while.

"Shirley?" Carolyn asked. "Well? What's the verdict?"

Her friend gave a deep sigh of relief. "Ninety-eight-point seven. Almost normal," she sighed. "Thank goodness." She headed toward the bedroom door. "I'll get her another couple of baby aspirin, if you don't mind, Carrie. Then I'll get her snuggled in, and we can call it a night." and the blonde disappeared out the door to the bathroom.

Daniel Gregg materialized, looking pleased at the news. "Tracy's fever is gone?" he inquired, looking first at Carolyn and then at the child . . . and then he peered closer at the child. She was obviously still awake, but had not acknowledged his presence. Quietly, the seaman waved a hand in front of the child's face. No response. He turned back toward Carolyn — a relieved, yet sad look on his handsome features, and he held a finger to his lips, warning her. "Shh, dear lady." She gave him an inquiring look. "Tracy is indeed well," he said softly. "She can't see me when I appear to you any more — her fever is truly gone." Carolyn started to speak, but again the seaman stopped her. "It's just as well, my dear. She's leaving tomorrow. We can't have her mother calling the doctor over a 'delusion' that actually existed for a time, now can we?"

"A very dear delusion . . ." Carolyn whispered, and as Shirley Partridge entered the bedroom again, the seaman slowly disappeared.

December 27th 1970

Although both sides of the 'family' hated to part, the time to do so had finally come. Carolyn watched as the Partridges and the Muirs, aided by Martha, started loading the bus full of instruments, luggage and newly acquired Christmas presents for the last time.

"I really think you ought to come out to California and see US next Christmas," Chris was saying to Jonathan. "We don't get snow, but we could have a lot of fun — and be warm, too!"

"It might be a gas," Jonathan grinned, grabbing another small suitcase. "But we'd have to come out earlier than Christmas. I wouldn't be away from Gull Cottage during the holidays for anything! We always have a great time here!"

Chris shrugged. "I guess you're right. I'd rather be at home for the holidays, too. It's been groovy staying here, but I wonder if Reuben is going to want us to tour every year? I'd hate to think about this stranded thing becoming a habit!" Together, the two boys headed back to the bus with another load.

"Aunt Carolyn, I really wish you'd give me that Claymore Gregg's number," Danny commented as he came out of the house, carrying Laurie's keyboard. "I just know I could get him to sell you Gull Cottage. I've been hearing something about this new thing in real estate — a rent to own/buyout option. You rent a house with a portion of your rental fee going toward a down payment every month, and then, when the owner and seller both agree it's a good time, you . . ."

"I'll think about it, Danny." Carolyn smiled. "I'd rather make a deal with Claymore outright, but he would still have to be willing to sell, and, as Gull Cottage is his legacy, so it may take me a while to talk him into the idea."

"I did NOT leave that tight-fisted fool Gull Cottage!" came the voice of Daniel Gregg. "How many times do I have to tell you that?" The spirit appeared, unseen, to all but Carolyn, and stood beside her. "And when you are ready, I guarantee you that one way or another I will MAKE Claymore sell it to you, or I will personally make his life miserable until the end of his days!"

"Still think you might get a better tax break if you could do it this new way," Danny protested. "I've been reading, and . . ."

"Later, dear brother," grinned Keith, coming up and giving Danny a playful punch on the arm. "As grandma says, you are missing another good chance to keep your mouth shut. Some people don't like to think about money morning, noon and night. Me? I'm the creative type."

"That's you," Danny snorted. "And it takes all kinds to make the world go round."

"Well, right now we need worker-bees to finish getting this bus loaded," Keith added. "Come on. Ever since I used my new poetry journal to finish that song we did last night, I've been unblocked, muse-wise. Can't wait to get moving on writing some more tunes. Mom's taking the first shift behind the wheel and she wants to get started."

Daniel Gregg's eyebrows lifted as he looked at the young man.

"Really?" Carolyn asked. "Other poetry?"

"Lots of it," Keith nodded, pulling out the book in his back pocket. "I really like this one that talks about how 'I've' been alone too long and I want to build a dream for you."

Carolyn looked at the Captain out of the corner of her eye. Was Daniel blushing? She watched the specter's brilliant blue eyes gaze at the sky, the bus, Gull Cottage . . . and finally turn back to hers, and she wondered if her cheeks were turning red.

"It sounds . . . like a beautiful start, Keith," the lady of Gull Cottage said softly. "I can't wait to hear it finished."

"I'll second that," the spirit echoed in her ear.

"Creativity later," Keith smiled. "Gotta finish here. Mom's still inside with Tracy."

"Anything wrong?" Carolyn asked.

"No — she's okay, I think, anyway. But she says she doesn't want to leave."

"Why not? I would think she would be glad to get started, finally going to see your grandparents and all," Carolyn wondered.

"It's because she says she hasn't seen her Captain yet," said Laurie, coming down the walk with Candy, both carrying speakers, and Laurie also a long cylindrical tube. "She keeps saying she needs to say goodbye to him."

"Girls," Danny commented, and went on toward the bus. Keith started back toward the house.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Laurie," said Candy, giving her mother a wink. "Lots of people have claimed to see Captain Gregg here. Maybe she did see him!"

"Wish I could have, then," Laurie sighed. "A couple of people at the reception asked me if I had met the ghost. You never said anything about him actually haunting here! Can you imagine living with someone like the Captain?" Carolyn watched as the spirit of Gull Cottage preened a bit. The teenager smiled. "Speaking of which, Aunt Carolyn — thanks for finding me this empty wrapping paper tube. It's perfect to keep my drawing in. My Captain should stay safe and dry until we get back to California."

"I never did get to see the end result," said Carolyn, anxious to keep the 'ghost conversation' to a minimum. "Can you take it out and show us?"

"Sure," said Laurie, removing the masking tape and then the cotton balls stuffed in one end of the tube. "Candy was right . . ." she looked at the younger girl and smiled. "As soon as I started thinking of him as real, he became dimensional — almost alive — like the little boy and the Velveteen Rabbit. Here . . ." and she uncurled the paper and held it out in front of the group.

"Laurie, that's really beautiful!" whispered Carolyn, as they looked at the drawing in front of them.

"I think it's almost better than my portrait over the mantle," the Captain commented, "I always did like pencil drawings and charcoals better than oils."

"Excellent," said Martha, who had come up behind them, unnoticed. "A lovely job, Laurie. I'd love to see that when it's all matted and framed and everything."

"I'm looking forward to showing it to Mrs. Crowley," Laurie added. "My art teacher. I've decided to make it my project for this road trip." The young woman looked a bit apologetic. "I'd offer it to you, Aunt Carolyn, but, well, you — you have the original."

"Uhm . . . original?" Carolyn asked, glancing at the Captain, still standing near her.

"You know," Laurie added, "The portrait!"

The seaman smiled broadly, Carolyn noticed, but turned as Shirley and Tracy came down the walk.

"Well, I better get moving," Laurie sighed, and she rolled up the drawing again carefully and pushed it back in its cardboard tube. "Let's hurry, Candy. One more trip after this and we should be just about done." And she and Candy headed toward the bus.

"Come on, sweetheart!" Shirley wheedled her younger daughter. "We need to get going, honey. We have a long way to go before tonight."

"But I can't find my Captain," Tracy said mournfully. "I can't find him anywhere!"

"He was a dream you had when you were sick, honey," Shirley soothed her. "I don't think . . ."

"He wasn't! He wasn't!" Tracy protested, "Mommy, he was real!"

"Tracy, imagination is a wonderful thing — and so are dreams, but only until they end."

"But, Mommy . . ."

"Honey, I'm glad you had your Captain to keep you company when you weren't feeling well, but you're better now."

"He wasn't a dream! He was real! He was!" The tears started sliding down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her mother's stomach. "Oh, please, can't we wait just a little longer? I know he'll come and say goodbye to me!"

"All set, Mom," Keith interrupted, coming back up the walk with his siblings, Candy and Jonathan. "Tracy still upset?"

Shirley nodded, looking first to her son, then Carolyn and Martha. "I had no idea leaving was going to make her so troubled." She shrugged. "Tracy has always been imaginative, but this is a little far out, even for her."

Carolyn looked at the Captain, helplessly, he looking back at her in the same fashion.

"Well, I want to give everyone a proper goodbye!" said Keith, giving first Martha then Carolyn a hug and a kiss. "You all have been terrific about everything, and don't worry!" he added, giving Jonathan a handshake and Candy a hug and a kiss as well, which made her blush like a rose. "We'll send you our new albums as they come out, and anytime you are in California, you HAVE to stay at our house!" Turning to his mother, he added. "The bus needs about five more minutes to finish warming up. Take your time, but not forever!"

As hugs and kisses were exchanged, the other Partridge children echoed Keith's sentiments, and they all climbed inside . . . leaving Shirley, Tracy and Carolyn in front of the stone gate near the back of the vehicle. Martha, Candy, Jonathan and Scruffy headed back toward the front porch.

"Honey . . ." Shirley turned to Tracy again. "Darling. It's time to get on the bus. Give your Aunt Carolyn a hug . . ."

Her daughter's lower lip quivered. "Bye, Aunt Carolyn," she added, her eyes clouding over again. "I had a fun time, even if I was sick!" She sniffed, giving Carolyn a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Tell the Captain I said 'bye' too, and tell him I know why he couldn't come see me." She looked sadder still. "He told me he was a secret. I just wish he . . ." giving Carolyn another squeeze, she broke away and headed for the bus — showing up seconds later at the back window, where she looked out — her eyes brimming with still-unshed tears.

"I hope Tracy gets over this," Shirley frowned. "She hasn't had an imaginary friend since she was three." She turned to Carolyn. "Carrie, what can I say? I'm so happy I've found you again, and this time I won't lose track of you. You've been great."

"No, YOU'VE been great, Carolyn laughed. "I'm sure we weren't in your plans!"

"One of the best wrong turns I ever made!" Shirley grinned, hugging her friend once more.

"Thanks for everything, Shirl, and remember, any time you're ever touring Maine again, we'd love to see you."

"Same here — please, maybe next year you can manage coming to California? I mean, if we're not touring again. If we do, we'll probably end up in a ghost town, or something!" She laughed as she headed up the bus stairs. "Don't forget us now! You and Martha should get your Christmas presents sometime next week!"

Carolyn looked toward the back of the bus, where Tracy was still staring out the window, and suddenly the Captain was standing beside her.

"Captain," she said, looking at Tracy's tear-streaked face. "I can't tell you what you should do . . ."

"I know, Carolyn," he sighed, "But . . ."

"Daniel, you can't let her leave like this — she thinks you've abandoned her."

"I know . . ." he sighed. "And if she were staying here, it might be different, but . . ."

"Oh, Daniel," Carolyn sniffed. "Just look at that face! You have GOT to say goodbye to her. Don't worry about Shirley and the others wondering or worrying. Tracy will be fine. She needs to see you, and you need to say goodbye to her, too."

He nodded. "You are right, my dear."

Quickly, the seaman disappeared and reappeared again, right next to the back of the bus where Tracy was, and Daniel Gregg watched as the little girl's face broke out in a sunburst smile upon seeing "her Captain" once more. Tracy started waving madly as, up front, Shirley shifted the bus into gear and started pulling slowly away. A lump came to his throat as he saw Tracy mouth "Goodbye, Captain!" and wave back to him until the bus was out of sight.

"Well, that's that," Carolyn said softly, making her way back up the flagstone walk. She sighed. It had been nice having an old friend to talk to. Except for Aggie, Paula, Betty, and Blair, (who barely counted) she hadn't seen any friends from her former life in Philadelphia in more than two years.

"That's that, indeed," said the Captain, appearing beside her as she made her way into the foyer and joined her family.

"I'm going to miss them," said Jonathan, reaching out to give his mother a hug. "It's been swell having them all stay here, and I'd like them even if they couldn't sing."

"Me too," Candy agreed. "I'm sorry it's all over. It's been fun singing and having a 'big sister' to share a room with, but you're okay, too," she added to her brother. "Sure going to be dull around here though. Hey — want to go upstairs and play Twister for a while?"

"Sure!" Jonathan agreed. "Then maybe later we can go sledding!" Together, brother and sister headed for Candy's room.

"Well, that's life," said Martha, wiping her hands on her apron. "Back to normal around here. You can't always live in the spotlight! Someone still has to do dishes and make beds!"

"I have some pressing work to get done this afternoon, Mrs. Muir," the Captain began, formally, but Carolyn detected a touch of wistfulness there. "I have been sadly neglecting my sea charts." Then in an even gruffer tone, he added. "It should be nice and quiet here now — no crowds, no music, no sick children . . ." and he disappeared.

Martha looked at her employer. "Back to those sea charts again! Ever wonder why he keeps revising those things? I mean, I don't see him going to sea any time soon! What's the rush? You know, I think the Partridges, Tracy especially, really got to that old sea dog. What do you think?"

"Maybe," Carolyn said quietly. "But I don't know how you would ever get him to admit it! You know Daniel Gregg!"

"Better and better all the time, Mrs. Muir, but not as well as you do, I don't think."

Carolyn blushed. "Well, I did have a head start on you, by a year!"

"Let's not forget an occasional afternoon of conversation and Madeira," Martha grinned. "If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen, making a grocery list. We're running low on lots of things, coffee for openers." With that, she headed toward the kitchen, leaving Carolyn alone in the foyer.

The phone rang then, but had stopped ringing before Carolyn could pick it up. Seconds later it rang again, and moments after that, Candy and Jonathan clattered down the stairs.

"Mom!" Candy's voice was breathless. "That was Linda — she's having the gang over — Amanda, Susan, Maggie, Debbie, Kathy — everyone, even Penelope. She says, please, I have to come. They want to see my new tambourine and hear about, well everything — you know! Can I go? Will you take me into town? Please?" Her face was shining with excitement.

"I thought you were going to play with Jonathan?" her mother asked.

"Oh, we can do that later!" Jonathan interrupted. "Kyle called — that was the SECOND time the phone rang. He and Conner are going ice skating at that new rink in Keystone and want me to come. If you can drop me at Kyle's house, his dad can take us there and bring me home. Please?"

Carolyn smiled at her offspring. "Sure, guys. Then I need to get back to reality and start on that article I couldn't get going on yesterday. Get your coats, I'll tell Martha goodbye, and we'll get moving."

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Night came once more to Gull Cottage. Candy and Jonathan had arrived home, later than usual, having been allowed to stay out to eat with their friends, but now they were safely tucked in bed. Carolyn and Martha had eaten a light omelet for dinner, and Daniel Gregg had appeared long enough to indulge in a cup of tea, but he had been quiet, almost moody, and had disappeared shortly afterwards, saying he had "other things" he needed to do. The women stayed up for a while, relaxing with coffee and the peace and quiet.

"You know," said Martha, pouring another cup. "I'm really going to miss that family."

"Me too," Carolyn said. "It was great seeing Shirley again, and we both had a chance to talk a few things through."

Martha lifted an eyebrow, and then lowered it again, deciding some questions were better left unasked. She shrugged. "Anyway, Gull Cottage has seemed so quiet tonight! Do you think the Captain is missing everyone running around his ship?"

"Home," Carolyn smiled. "Da. . . he's been calling it a home, lately. Yes. Actually, I think he will. I was a little worried when everyone first got here, but he warmed up to them all so quickly, even if he had to stay invisible, Tracy especially. I realized after they left that, chances are, he's never really gotten to know a little girl that age. Candy was older when we moved here, more aware, more mature. Tracy was less likely to challenge what shouldn't be happening, and, well, since she could see him, and didn't have a problem with it, he could talk to her, and she to him when he had to stay invisible to everyone else."

"I think that was the happiest thing of all," Martha smiled. "Tracy being able to see him, I mean! Did Captain Gregg ever really figure out why she could?"

Carolyn shook her head, and played idly with the cord on her bathrobe. "No — all we can assume is it had something to do with her being sick. I suppose we'll never really know, but then, the Captain told me some time ago that he didn't know why Jonathan could see him the first day we moved in here without him willing it either."

The housekeeper started. "I didn't realize that! I always assumed that the old goat showed himself to Jonathan, like he did to you and Candy and me!"

Carolyn shook her head. "No — Jonathan told me later, and the Captain backed him up. That first day he was watching us from the stairs as Claymore was giving us the downstairs tour, and Jonathan started upstairs and practically ran into him — of course you can't do that with a ghost, but anyway Captain Gregg was so startled, that he forgot to thunder just then, or do anything scary, and then Jonathan said "hi" to him, and what could he do after that? He wouldn't scare a child, not deliberately. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Martha grinned. "Maybe the Captain wanted to be seen, and didn't know he did, or maybe it has to do with how old a child is. Jonathan wasn't quite six when we moved in here. Perhaps, like in the Mary Poppins books, the age you are holds a mystic quality, and you lose that quality as you get older unless you are very, very special, like Mary was, or are encouraged to hang onto it — rather as we all have been able to because Captain Gregg exists here in this house."

"I like your approach, Martha," Carolyn smiled. "I thought that movie was great — was that in the movie? I don't remember it, except indirectly, maybe."

"More prevalent in the books," Martha grinned. "But then, Mary was grumpier in the books, too. Always reminded me a little of my Great Aunt Ethel. In the books, she loved the Banks children, all five of them, but she wouldn't say it in words, more in actions." The housekeeper yawned. "Well, it will be nice to have things back to normal for a few days before the kids go back to school."

"Agreed," her employer nodded, rubbed her eyes, and yawned, trying desperately to cover it. "Sorry, Martha. I guess I'm more tired than I thought I was."

"Me too," her friend nodded. "I think it's time to call it a night — how about you?"

"You don't have to say that twice!" Carolyn said, rising from her chair and starting to stack the cups and saucers they had been using on the tray.

"Now just stop that," Martha scolded, putting her hand on Carolyn's shoulder. "These can sit here until morning — they won't go anywhere."

"You sure?" Carolyn asked.

"Absolutely. They'll be gone by the time you wake up."

"Okay," Carolyn nodded, giving her friend a hug. "Goodnight, Martha. Thanks for everything." Together the two women turned off the lights — Martha heading for her room on the ground floor and Carolyn climbing the stairs to the master cabin.

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The Captain appeared as Carolyn came back into the master bedroom, after checking in on Candy and Jonathan. He sat at the desk and idly flipped through a stack of papers there.

"I heard your earlier comment, my dear."

Carolyn smiled. "Which earlier comment?"

He stroked his moustache. "About missing them. I shall miss them all. Very much."

"Tracy?" Her voice was curious.

"No — all of them. Mrs. Partridge, because I wish you did have a close female friend nearer by. It's obvious you miss that. There is Martha, of course, but that's a different sort of relationship. A friendship with someone like Shirley Partridge . . . well, it's not something that you have in Schooner Bay . . . not yet, and I cannot say for certain if you ever will. Small towns are like that, unfortunately." He shrugged. "As for Mrs. Partridge's offspring, they are a nice group of children and young adults. The nicest I have ever known, except for Candy and Jonathan, of course. And they have talent, but, as Candy says, they're not 'hung up' on themselves. I am looking forward to seeing how my . . . that new song does on the music charts."

"So you won't mind so much this time when Candy plays their new record incessantly?" Carolyn grinned.

"Of course not. I'm counting on it."

"What about Tracy, Daniel? You miss her. I know you do."

"Tracy?" His smile was wistful. "You're right of course. I will miss her the most of all because I got to know her the best, her being able to see me, and all. I had a grand time with her — telling stories, singing lullabies, and I think she did too. I missed seeing Candy at that age, you know. It was rather enjoyable having just a little taste of fatherhood . . . something that didn't happen in my lifetime. Candy and Jonathan are almost too old for goodnight stories and fairy tales and lullabies now. A few more years and they will be out on their own. I'm beginning to understand what some of my shipmates meant when they said having children and a family made time fly."

"You know, Daniel, the Candy and Jonathan DO think of you as a father . . . " Carolyn choked out the words as she came closer to the seaman.

"I know, my dear Carolyn," he said softly, and he rose and stood next to her — close enough to touch. "And every day I am more and more grateful to them, and to you, for that honor."

"We're blessed too, Captain." Her voice almost cracked as she looked back up at him. "I meant what I said in the kitchen the other night."

"Hmmm?"

"About how happy I am that I am here, in this house, with you and Martha and the children and Scruffy and how much I love it here, and I don't think anyone or anything could make me leave here, not even you. Coming to Gull Cottage was the smartest thing I have ever done." Again Carolyn was aware of the Captain's almost sapphire eyes gazing steadily into her green ones.

"Thank you, dear lady," he answered, his voice almost a whisper. Then the seaman pulled his eyes away from her and backed up, almost imperceptibly, and he smiled. "But I think you have forgotten, however, that the Christmas season isn't really over!"

"What do you mean, Daniel?"

"You've forgotten so soon? Little Christmas? On January sixth?" He grinned.

Her hand flew over her mouth as she gasped. "You're right! Epiphany! Little Christmas! I HAD forgotten!" She smiled. "I still have some shopping to do for you."

"I don't!" The seaman almost crowed, and looked extremely pleased with himself. "I've had your surprise figured out for more than a month . . ."

"I thought my beautiful jewelry box WAS my surprise," she said, puzzled. "Daniel, the music box — everything you have done for the last four days has been more — "

"Oh, it's not a THING . . ." He grinned like a little boy. ". . . Just a little surprise I've been working on!" and the seaman disappeared.

"Daniel!" she cried, "Daniel, you come back here!" Her only answer was a chuckle echoing in her ears. "Come on, I'll tell you what yours is going to be!"

"That would be too easy!" His rich voice echoed in her ears, and he laughed again.

"Don't laugh so loud! You'll wake up the children!" she said, frustrated.

"They can't hear me! But they can hear you! You are the one who needs to stop shouting!" and he laughed again, even louder than before.

"Daniel . . . It's still closer to Christmas than Little Christmas — we COULD do this now . . ." she wheedled.

"No we can't! You said you don't have MY present yet! Fair's fair!"

"Daniel . . ." she rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

"I COULD give you a hint . . ." his voice came from very near, practically tickling her ear. "If you're determined to learn something . . ." He chuckled again, his laugh sending shivers down her spine.

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Well, I don't know . . ." he paused. ". . . I really shouldn't. I mean, the children should be allowed to hear this too . . ."

"DANIEL!" she sighed. "You're not being gentlemanly at all."

He materialized once again, shaking his head. "No, my dear. You are correct. I'm being unfair. One of things I always found the most difficult when I was alive . . . I'd find just the right gift for someone — for a birthday, for Christmas — my mother, my father, my aunt, my shipmates, a woman or two . . ." He paused, scratching his beard. "I always had the hardest time waiting until the proper day to give it to them." The seaman shrugged. "I'm sorry, dear lady. I won't tease you any more. Goodnight, Carolyn. I promise. No more talk of presents until January sixth." The seaman gave a short bow. "Until tomorrow, Madam . . ." And he disappeared.

"Daniel?" She whispered softly, this time remembering her sleeping children. "Daniel . . . You don't have to go yet. You can stay. We can just . . ." She stopped, realizing he was no longer in the room. "Oh, foo," she whispered. "I know you, Daniel Gregg, and nothing I can say tonight will sway you anyway!" She smiled. "But we'll just see what happens tomorrow!"

Carolyn slipped between the warm sheets — everything feeling oddly different with Shirley and Tracy not sharing the cabin with her. After a half an hour with her murder mystery, the lady of Gull Cottage dropped off into a sweet, sound sleep.

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Two hours later, the spirit of Gull Cottage appeared at the end of her bed, as he had on the very first night the family had stayed there, and many nights since, and gazed at the beautiful sleeping woman before him. He looked, satisfied, at the music box he had given her, sitting on her bedside table near the clock, and smiled, thinking about how happy she looked when she had received it.

"I have indeed met my match in you, my dear Carolyn," he whispered. "After waiting for you for so long, how could I have known what it would take to finally bring us together? How could I have known all it would take is a love so timeless it couldn't be measured by anything contrived by man, but something only God could know?" Softly, he whispered the words to a song, telling her that love was all he ever needed, though he didn't expect it. Yet, since she looked at him, that's all he wanted.

Daniel Gregg leaned over and kissed Carolyn gently on the lips, and watched her smile in her sleep. Out of instinct, she moved toward him slightly, then curled deeper under the covers. He thought about how grateful he was for the Christmas just past, and how eagerly he was anticipating his planned surprise on Little Christmas, just a few short days away, and all the Christmases, Little Christmases, and happy years to come.

Kissing her softly once more, he moved to the French windows and peered through the telescope at something that only his spectral eyes could see, then adjusted the curtains so the morning sun wouldn't shine in and awaken his lady. Then he dematerialized, reappearing on the widow's-walk to begin his night watch, and await the light of dawn — and a glorious new day.

Finis