Title: CUTTER GAP, BC (Before Christy)
Author: Debbie H.




DISCLAIMER: Catharine Marshall's beautiful story of Christy is owned by
the LeSourd Family.  The writer of this fanfic is in no way seeking
profit or credit for her story.  The writer is continuing the story of
Christy for amusement only.  

CUTTER GAP, BC (Before Christy)



And now... Cutter Gap, BC...

The insistent pounding on the door pulled Neil from a deep sleep.  His
wife lay nestled in the crook of his arm, her dainty hand with its long
fingers resting lightly on his chest.  He tried to wish away the
unwelcome sound to no avail.

With a deep sigh, he slipped his arm out from under Margaret and
stumbled out of bed, throwing on his flannel robe on his way to the
door.  A frantic young John Spencer almost hit him in the nose as Neil
opened the door.

"Doc, ye gotta come right quick.  It's the Least'un.  Been on the
go-down the last few days, but Ma and Zady was nursing him good.  Then
tonight, he wouldn't stop wailin' for nothin', not even Paw playin'
"Sourwood Mountain" on his fiddle.  When Ma saw them rose spots, she
said for me to fetch on you lickety split.  You'll come won't ye, Doc?"

"Of course I'll come, John.  Tell your mother to apply a cool cloth to
Least'un's brow and to start the water boiling in her biggest pot.  Let
me gather some supplies.  I'll be along directly."

With that, John turned and scurried down the trail toward Lonesome Pine
Ridge.  Neil furrowed his brow in thought.  Based on John's description,
it sounded like typhoid fever.  The time of year was right, early
October, and Neil had been wondering just yesterday when the first case
would surface.  How he hated that it was the Spencers.  They'd lost
Grandsir Spencer only three months ago, and Fairlight had lost her baby
in the spring.

"I will beat this," Neil vowed under his breath as he put on his
trousers in the dark.  He unlocked the laboratory door and gathered up a
large supply of medicines and herbs.  Who knew when he'd be able to
return?  The fever tended to spread in epidemic proportions, running
like wildfire from cabin to cabin, wearing him to the core.  Some
battles they would win; others they would lose, but Neil would be there
for them all, offering hope to some and consolation to many.

He tiptoed back to the bedroom and studied the sleeping form sprawled in
the bed.  How he wanted to join her!  With all the discipline he could
muster, the young doctor tore his eyes from his wife and crept down the
steps.

******

The fever raged mercilessly through the Cove, sparing no family from its
terror.  Fortunately, Neil reached Least'un in time, and with the proper
treatment the tiny boy would recover.  He spent his days trekking from
the McHone's to the O'Teale's to his Aunt Hattie's to the Hawkins' over
in Raven Gap.  Neil slept in bits and pieces, snatching minutes when he
could.

After two weeks, he was completely exhausted.  He was in a stupor,
riding back to the O'Teale's when Alice Henderson appeared in the path
before him.  "It's time for you to get some rest, Neil," his
mother-in-law stated.  

"My people need me."

"You'll be no good to your people if that brain of yours isn't working
at its optimum level."

"I've lived here a lot longer than you have, Ms. Henderson, and I know
what my people need."

"Yes, Neil, I understand and I trust your judgement implicitly. 
However, I would like to offer thee my services.  I nursed my share of
typhoid cases in Ardmore, and believe I could be of some assistance."

The young doctor was not particularly fond of the meddling woman mounted
on her horse, sitting straight and dignified in her saddle, but an offer
of help was an offer of help.  "Well, come along then," he said.  "I'm
plumb out of supplies and on my way home to replenish them."

******

The pair rode in silence to Neil's cabin, following the winding trail
beside the river.  When they came close to the cabin, Neil sensed that
something was amiss.  The door was open, swaying in with the cool autumn
wind.  He jumped from his horse.

"Margaret!"  He ran up the steps, taking them two at a time. 
"Margaret?"

Neil stood frozen in the doorway.  In moments, Alice stood behind him. 
Both were speechless.  The cabin was in shambles.  Furniture was
overturned; pots and pans were strewn about; papers fluttered in the
breeze.  The white curtains with the violet print that Margaret bought
in Charleston on their honeymoon were hanging in strips over the window.

"Dear Lord!" Alice breathed.

"Margaret?" Neil's cry was answered with silence.  Carefully he and
Alice stepped inside the cabin.  Alice let out a cry as she shut the
door behind her.

Neil turned to see several long scratches on the door.  Claw marks. 
Like some wild creature had demolished the room. . .

"Margaret!" his shout was frantic now.  He tore up the steps to the
bedroom fearing what he might find there.  An inert form lay awkwardly
on the floor.  Quickly, the doctor knelt and took her pulse.  It was
racing.  She was deathly pale, but he could see no external injuries. 
What was wrong with her?  He put an experienced hand to her brow.  Her
forehead was on fire.  Suddenly it all clicked.

Neil scooped her into his arms, ran downstairs, brushing past Alice. 
"We've got to get her out of here!"  To the river he ran.  He waded in
and submerged Margaret.  Her long black hair flowed with the current. 
Neil's teeth chattered, but he had to bring the fever down.

Her mother stood at the shore.  "Neil, what are you doing?"

"She's burning up.  It's essential that we bring the fever down."

Alice covered her mouth.  Her voice broke as she asked, "Fever?"

Neil nodded grimly as he waded back to shore.  Neil set Margaret on the
ground.  He gathered up some logs and kindling and arranged them as if
he were building a bonfire.  He struck a match, and a warm blaze was
burning in minutes.

"But that's not the standard treatment for typhoid," Alice said quietly.

"It isn't typhoid fever, Alice."  The doctor ran his fingers through his
unruly hair.  He spoke, as if to himself.  "She's had it for a good ten
days.  When it's not caught and the patient keeps going, death can come
in the second week."

"It?"

Neil hesitated, reluctant to answer.  "It's hyperthermic fever
domicilus."

"I'm sorry, but I am not familiar with that malady, Doctor.  Is it
serious?"

"Gravely.  It will take all of both our efforts to pull her through. 
Constant attention and nursing, and even then the chances are slim."

"But what is it?"

"In layman's terms, Margaret has an acute case of cabin fever."

THE END   :)