Work Text:
Jewelry (Unimaginative)
Gloves (Dull)
Perfume (No, she already smells perfect…)
Silk fan (How often would she use that?)
New stationery set (Again, practical and dull, John)
New book (I have already bought her every book she has mentioned)
Shawl (Good Lord, John, are you her great aunt…)
John Thornton stared down at the paper in front of him. No. Nothing on his list of gift ideas was right. One week until Christmas, and he still couldn't come up with the perfect gift for his wife, Margaret.
And it had to be perfect. Something meaningful. This was their first Christmas together, their first as husband and wife. He was determined to find just the right gift for her, the gift that would show her how much she meant to him. It couldn't be just any generic present that a man might purchase without thought for a lady. The gift had to demonstrate how well he knew Margaret – a gift that would be meaningful and special to her.
John sighed, and glanced over at the small cactus that sat on his desk. Despite his current frustration, the sight couldn't help but bring a small smile to his face. Now that had been a perfect gift. Even before their marriage, somehow Margaret had known just what to choose for John. The little plant brightly greeted him every day, a constant cheerful reminder of the woman who was everything to him.
John heard a soft knock at the door, and turned his head to see the object of his thoughts peek her head in. Margaret smiled when she saw him. "I hope I'm not disturbing you…"
"Of course not." John quickly shuffled papers to cover his list, and stood to greet his wife. He marveled at how beautiful she looked, even in her simple day dress in these drab surroundings. "You are never a disturbance, my love."
Margaret stepped into John's open arms, laying her head against his chest. "Hmm, I wonder if you would still say that if I had brought your sister with me."
John chuckled. Yes, Fanny Watson would be a different story. She rarely ever entered John's office, and if she did, would be likely to create a fuss with her frantic energy. "My sister?"
"Yes, she's in the house with your mother. We're going out to finish our Christmas shopping this afternoon. Fortunately I've already purchased her present, so I don't have to worry about that."
John recalled Margaret mentioning she had selected a new fan she thought Fanny would admire. Yes, such a gift would suit his fashion-focused sister. But Margaret deserved something better…
"Ah, yes, Christmas shopping. Well, you'd better hide your packages from me, then, or I may have to take a little peek…"
"Oh, John–" Margaret laughed as she stepped away from him. "Your presents are already finished and wrapped. And you'll never find them. So don't even try." She winked and leaned up on her toes to give him a kiss. Although she had probably intended only a quick peck, John wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to him and lengthening the kiss. Margaret sighed as she reluctantly pulled away. "I'd better get going. I'll see you this evening, my love." She beamed back at him as she stepped out the door.
John's smile faded a bit after she left. He turned to pace his office. No doubt Margaret had once again prepared a perfect gift for him – and John still had no idea what to choose for his beloved wife. He sighed. He dreaded presenting her with some commonplace token, something bland that showed nothing of his love and understanding of the remarkable woman he had married.
He rested his palms on his desk and leaned over it, his head down. No. He was determined. He would find just the right gift for his Margaret.
His eye fell once again on the little cactus. He lifted his hand to gently brush his fingertip over its bristles. Even before their marriage, when they had been estranged with so little understanding of each other, Margaret had sensed the tender heart in John hiding underneath the cold and bristly exterior. She had chosen the small cactus as a gift for him, somehow sensing it would please him. She had not even known at the time of John's fascination with stories of the American "Wild West" as a child, of foreign and harsh desert landscapes, and strange animals and vegetation like this prickly little creature.
And that was what he needed, John realized. Something meaningful to Margaret, something she had always desired, perhaps something from her childhood…
A memory flashed into his mind. And suddenly – John knew. He knew exactly what he should give her, the present he wanted her to have. Something meaningful, that spoke from the heart… But it would be so – unusual. And – well – difficult. It was completely daft. Could he really make it happen?
Immediately John swept aside the documents covering his desk and whipped out a fresh sheet of paper. He must waste no time in making the proper inquiries.
The sound of a sharp train whistle startled John's eyes open. He glanced down at his wife, still dozing peacefully on his shoulder. John felt a smile spread over his face. The steady rhythm of the tracks had lulled them both to sleep, but they were now nearing their destination.
John looked around at the other passengers on the train. He could sense a subtle air of excitement; it was Christmas Eve, after all, and the London bound train was full of people traveling to be with their families and loved ones. John and Margaret were doing the same, having made plans to join Edith's family for the holiday. Mrs. Thornton would be spending the day with Fanny and her husband.
For a few minutes John watched a couple in the compartment across the aisle. The man, probably around John's age, appeared to be reading to a little girl, while his wife rocked a baby in her arms. John felt a thrill rush through him, wondering if he could look forward to being part of such a scene in the not very distant future.
John turned back once again to gaze adoringly at the woman he had never dared to dream could actually be his. She looked so lovely in sleep, just as she always did. But Margaret's beauty was so much deeper than just her appearance. He marveled at how much his life had changed for the better since his marriage. Now every day was filled with her sweet love and care.
John's eyes strayed to the tiny cactus snuggled on the seat between them and smiled fondly. Margaret had insisted on bringing the little plant on the trip with them. She had been worried that no one would remember to water it while they were away from Milton. Of course, John knew a cactus could easily do without water for that length of time, but he had been more than happy to indulge Margaret anyway.
John pulled out his new pocket watch to check the time. He brushed his thumb reverently over the engraving of a cactus on its cover. The watch had been a present from Margaret, presented just this morning, along with new handkerchiefs that she had embroidered with his initials and tiny cacti. He and Margaret had decided to exchange gifts between them before embarking their trip. John remembered the surprise on his wife's face when he had told her that she would receive her gift on the way to London. He had refused to answer any more of her questions about it, only giving her a teasing wink and reassuring her that he hoped that she would find the wait worth the while.
Feeling the train begin to slow, John reached over to gently stroke Margaret's cheek. He watched her eyes flutter open, and she smiled up at him. John couldn't resist briefly bringing his lips to hers.
"I did not intend to fall asleep." Margaret admitted, a little bashfully. She glanced out the window. "Where are we?"
"We are arriving at our destination."
She looked back at him, confused. "But this is not London."
"No, it is not." John gave her a mischievous grin. "But it is where we will find your gift. So… I hope you won't mind taking a little detour."
The hired carriage ride from the station took almost half an hour. Margaret spent the entire time gazing out the window, trying to determine where they were going. "John, I cannot imagine where you are taking me! What is this all about?"
"Have a little patience, my dear." John grinned when she stuck out her tongue at him. He was definitely enjoying teasing her in this manner. He only hoped he had not misjudged, and that she would be truly happy with the gift he had chosen. If not, it had the potential to go very, very badly…
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of a small and cozy cottage. Acres of green farmland surrounded them. John stepped down and helped his wife out of the carriage.
"John, where are we? What is this?" Margaret looked around her, perplexed. "We are miles from the nearest village. What on earth are we to find here?"
"You'll see, my love." John offered her his arm and led her to the gate. As they passed through, a woman emerged from the front door of the house.
"Mr. and Mrs. Thornton! You're here! I'm so glad. It's so lovely to meet you both. I was just saying to my daughter that I hoped you would arrive soon, before it looks to snow. Oh, and look at you, you both look just as I imagined you would." The woman beamed at them as she rushed forward to shake their hands. She had an infectious smile that warmed John instantly and put him at his ease.
Margaret smiled back at her, obviously as charmed as John. "It is wonderful to meet you, too, Mrs. –"
"Oh, just call me Merry. Everyone does." She brushed a strand of silver hair back under her cap.
"Merry." Margaret's smile grew. "Very well. Then you must call me Margaret, and this is John." John nodded genially. While he did not usually allow anyone but his family to address him by his Christian name, he found himself strangely comfortable with this woman, almost as if he had known her his whole life.
"Lovely! Oh, and who is this little fellow?" Merry looked curiously down at the small cactus that John realized was still in his hand.
"This is – Cactus." John grinned a bit sheepishly. "It was a gift from my wife. We didn't want to leave it behind." He lifted the cactus up so Merry could see it more closely. Her smile widened as she gently brushed its bristles.
"Well, of course not. He's one of the family." She winked at the small cactus, as though the two of them shared a special joke. "Well, let us go, then! I'll lead the way. I know you must be eager to meet her. And she will be thrilled to meet you too. I knew as soon as I received your letter, John, that you would be just right for her. I could just tell. You know how there's just something about certain people, you somehow know they're going to be special to you." Merry's cheerful chatter filled the air as she led them around the side of the cottage. They passed a barn that, like the cottage, was not large but well kept up, painted in bright and pleasant colors. They came to a large pen behind the barn. The pen held a number of furry residents that began to loudly hail their visitors.
"Donkeys!" Margaret cried out in delight. As though in reply, three of them rushed forward to the fence to greet her. Margaret leaned over, happily rubbing her hands on their necks and gently brushing their long, furry ears. "Oh, they're so sweet! I adore donkeys." She giggled as one donkey bumped its nose to hers.
"Yes, that's what your husband said in his letter. That you were fond of them as a child, and always dreamed of having one of your own." Merry stepped up beside Margaret and the donkeys happily nuzzled her as well. One of them began chewing on the sleeve of Merry's dress.
"He did?" Margaret turned wide eyes to John. "You remembered that?"
"Of course I did." John smiled down at his beloved wife. "How could I forget something that my wife had always wanted? I only hope it's something you still desire…"
Margaret bit her lip as her eyes began to fill with tears. "Oh, John…"
"Here, now, that's enough, you lot, move on. Go eat your dinner." Merry gave the donkeys a gentle push and they contentedly headed toward their food trough. She gestured toward a smaller donkey who stood alone, apart from the others. "Come now, sweet girl, come and meet your new friends." Once the other donkeys had moved away, the little one trotted cheerfully forward.
"Something tells me that this girl is just the one that will suit you two. She's a funny little thing. She has absolutely no interest in the other donkeys. She completely ignores them, or nips at them if they try to pester her. But she's never met a human she didn't like. She loves to be around people." Merry watched as the little donkey happily accepted Margaret's attentions, sniffling and nuzzling her neck. "Yes, I think she is a city girl at heart."
"A city girl?" Margaret glanced quickly at John. "Do you mean – she is to live in Milton – with us?"
"We have the garden behind the house. It's not large, but it has a good cover of grass, and I thought we could have a small stable built. Nicholas has already volunteered for the job, and I promised to be generous with his wages." John grinned, but felt his expression sober as he regarded her. Did Margaret disapprove? Perhaps she was unhappy with the plan. It really had been a silly idea…
Suddenly, John felt himself jerked forward as Margaret threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. He wrapped his arms around her waist and savored the kiss, heedless of their company. He grinned down at her when she finally pulled away.
"Oh, John! This is the most wonderful present ever!" Margaret turned back to the little donkey, her face flushed. "She's so beautiful!" Margaret fondly rubbed her light brown ears. "What is her name?"
Merry reached over to give the donkey an affectionate pat. "Well, you're welcome to change it, of course, but I call her Prickles."
"Prickles?" Margaret glanced back at John. "You mean, like–"
"Yes, a bit like your little spiky friend!" Merry laughed brightly, and smiled at the little plant now residing in John's pocket. "She's so prickly with the other donkeys. But she's thoroughly sweet tempered at heart. I think she just needs someone ready to accept her just as she is."
"Oh, Prickles is perfect. Thank you. Oh, do be careful, John–" Margaret's voice now held a note of alarm, as she watched the donkey start to sniff John's pocket. "Don't let her–"
But as John pulled the cactus out of his pocket, it was clear that Prickles knew friend from food. She gave the cactus a little nuzzle in greeting, then shoved her head into John's chest for more pets.
"Don't worry, my dear. Your cactus friend is safe from any harm from her." Merry sighed in contentment. "Oh, I was absolutely right. I know Prickles belongs with you. But look–" She gestured around them. "The snow has arrived. And it's coming down quickly. Come, sweeties, time to get into the barn." Merry began to gently herd the donkeys toward the barn door.
John looked around, realizing it was indeed beginning to snow pretty heavily. "Margaret, we'd best hurry back to the carriage–"
"Oh, I don't think you're going to make it back to the station now, not with how quickly this snow is building up. And even if you do, no doubt the trains will have ceased running." Merry shook her head at them, closing the door behind Prickles as she trotted into the barn. "No, the two of you will stay and be my guests for Christmas. Sorry, three of you." Merry smiled down at the cactus in John's hand. "I couldn't forget our spiky little friend."
"Oh, no, we couldn't possibly–" Margaret began to protest.
"I insist! It's no trouble at all. The more the merrier! I firmly believe this was meant to be. As I said, sometimes you just know people are going to be special to you. I believe the two of you were meant to have Christmas with us, as part of our family." Merry's bright smile seemed to melt away John's hesitations.
He glanced down at Margaret, who grinned up at him and nodded happily. "Very well. If you're sure, we would be honored to spend Christmas with you, Merry."
"Wonderful!" Merry beamed at them. "Then let's get back to the house and warm up with some hot chocolate before the fire. I know we're going to have a very happy Christmas together!"
"A very Merry Christmas!" Margaret laughed and hugged her new friend. Margaret slipped her arm into John's as they walked back to the cottage. As the snow settled around them, he looked down and met the shining eyes of his beloved wife, and he knew that he could never ask for a more perfect first Christmas with Margaret.
The little cactus snuggled deeper into John's pocket, thoroughly contented with life. Today had been a smashing success. John and Margaret were both happy, they had made lovely new friends, and it was all thanks to Cactus. John would never have been inspired to pick just the right gift for Margaret all on his own. It had truly been a brilliant idea – although It wasn't a perfect gift, of course. After all, there could never be any gift quite as good as a cactus.