"Amazing," Jackson said, examining the Philadelphia postmarked envelope with awe. "Just think. If Lebeau had lost his wife and daughter now, there's a very good chance he could have found them quickly. After almost losing you, I understand the pain he must have gone through all those years."
"But he ended up a happy man, according to the letter. Barbara never met him, of course, but she knew her great-grandfather, and he remembered his father very well."
"So Lebeau married . . ."
"Yes, and you'll never believe who."
"Who?"
"Suzette. And they had seven children."
"Really?" Jackson chuckled and shook his head. "The rascal."
"He moved many of your former slaves to the north before the war. Some of them were involved in the Underground Railroad."
"What's that?"
"It was the way slaves escaped to the north, house to house, traveling with the help of sympathetic people of all color."
"I have a feeling that if you had stayed in the past, that's exactly what you would have been doing." Jackson settled into his chair, then held out his arms for her to snuggle close.
"And you probably would have gladly helped. I'm still surprised you made provisions to give the land to Lebeau in your will, and that you'd freed so many of the people even before you knew you were going to leave."
Jackson shrugged. "I did what was right, and what would have made you happy, had you stayed in the past."
"I knew you were a good man. You obviously lived in the wrong time."
"I'm in the right place now," he said with a smile. "I'm glad Lebeau's life turned out happier, and I'm going to read that letter very carefully while you're at school tonight."
Randi settled on his lap, snuggling close. "Oh? And what are you going to do until then?"
"Show my wife," he said, punctuating his words with kisses on her brow and cheeks, "how happy I am that she fell through a dollhouse and into my life."
The End