Title: Lessons in Love
Author: Lisa Renee

DISCLAIMER:   Catherine Marshall’s beautiful story of “Christy” is owned 
by the LeSourd family.  I am in no way attempting to receive credit for 
or profit from either the characters from the novel or those of the 
television series based upon the novel.  Any additions in story were 
created by the author for the purpose of personal amusement only.

SETTING:  The week of Valentine’s Day, 1913.  For the purpose of this 
story, “The Road Home” took place sometime the previous autumn.  Christy 
refused David’s proposal, and he went back to Boston for a while, where 
he began to see Cecil Jorgensen again.  Margaret died of tuberculosis, 
and Neil became a Christian shortly thereafter.



PART I:

CHRISTY took a deep breath of the crisp winter air as she walked to the 
schoolhouse on Monday morning.  The brilliant blue vault of the sky 
stretched out overhead, and it was not sullied by the presence of a 
single cloud.  Sunbeams danced playfully on the sparkling, white ground, 
giving the effect of a glimmering diamond.  The misty purple mountains 
rising beyond the schoolhouse were achingly beautiful, white patches 
here and there on the peaks catching  the sun’s rays and scattering 
little rainbows across the smoky backdrop.  
        
The young schoolteacher gleefully swung the pale pink-and-white-striped 
hat box she was carrying and skipped a little.  She felt so alive, so 
incredibly peaceful and happy.  
        
“Thank You, God, for letting me be alive on days like this!” Christy 
said aloud, upon entering the schoolyard.  
        
A cheerful chirping  caused Christy to direct her attention to a nearby 
tree, and she saw perched in one of the powdery white branches a bright 
red cardinal, hopping about importantly as if to flaunt his brilliant 
plumage. 
        
“Must be a female nearby,” said a deep voice behind her.  
        
Christy smiled and turned around.  “Good morning, Neil,” she said 
sweetly.  “Yes, he does look a bit show-offish, doesn’t he?  Just like a 
male.”

The Doctor laughed.  “So it is the way with all species, isn’t it?  The 
men dance and perform, while the ladies watch and laugh quietly at the 
ridiculous scenes playing out before them.”  He pointed to another 
branch where the more subtly colored female was perched.  “Just like 
her.  Watch.”

Neil and Christy stood silently, watching the male cardinal flap his 
wings and warble out his high little courting song.  Christy noted that 
there did seem to be a somewhat smug, mocking expression on the face of 
the female, when suddenly, the brownish bird spread her wings and flew 
away to another tree, deserting her suitor.

“You see, Miss Huddleston?” Neil grinned, walking toward the schoolhouse 
steps.  “I told you, the dance is more important than the frying pan.”

Her blue eyes twinkled and she shook her head as she followed the Doctor 
into the classroom.  “Well, Doctor, what sort of scientific surprises do 
you have in store for us today?”

“You’ll find out when everyone else does,” Neil replied, setting his bag 
on the floor.  

“Will I be impressed as usual?” Christy asked.

“I hope so.”  Then Neil slyly added, with a wink.  “But if you’re 
usually impressed, I must be a good dancer.” 




PART II:

DR. MACNEILL’S chemistry experiments certainly *did* impress the school 
children---*and* their teacher.  Christy stood in a corner and watched 
unblinkingly as her friend clearly explained the procedures and the 
science behind them.  She was in awe of his knowledge and understanding, 
his skill, his natural ability to communicate with work with children.   
For an instant she had a vision of Neil on the floor in front of a 
fireplace playing lions and tigers with several small boys . . .

Christy felt her cheeks grow hot, and quickly walked to the back of the 
room to stand in the doorway so that no one would see her blushes.  
Fortunately, everyone was too engrossed with the chemistry experiments 
to give any notice.  But throughout the rest of the Doctor’s lesson, 
Christy’s mind was *not* on chemistry.
        
“Well, boys and girls, that’s about all I have for today.”
        
Christy went back to the front of the room and stood next to Neil.  
“Thank you, Dr. MacNeill, for coming today.  We really enjoyed your 
experiments and are glad you were able to share them with us.”
        
The children responded with a wild round of applause for the Doctor.  
        
As Neil gathered up his supplies, Christy addressed the class.  “Does 
anyone in here know what this Friday is?”

“February the Fourteenth,” said Creed Allen seriously. 

“Yes, that’s right,” Christy replied.  “But it’s a special day.  Does 
anyone know why?”

Again, Creed had the answer.  “ ’Cause, th’ next day’s Saturday, an’ we 
ain’t got t’ cum t’ school!”

The class laughed, and so did Christy.  

“Actually, Creed, there’s another reason.  It’s Saint Valentine’s Day!”

The teacher was met with blank stares from her students, but she 
continued, excitedly.  “Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite holidays!  
It’s a special time when people show the ones they love how much they 
care about them.”  

Neil listened attentively while he finished putting his supplies in his 
bag.  Valentine’s Day had been on his mind lately, too.  In fact, he had 
ordered something for Christy.  It hadn’t arrived yet, and he was a 
little concerned, for he had placed his order nearly a month before.  He 
fastened the buckle on his bag and slung it over his shoulder, then 
walked to the door, turned, and waved to Christy.  She smiled back at 
him, then Neil left. 

“Anyway,” said Christy, opening the hat box she had brought.  “This time 
of year people make cards called Valentines.  They’re decorated with 
hearts and lace and tiny pictures.”  Christy passed around the box so 
the students could look at the contents.  “I thought we’d make some, and 
on Friday afternoon, we’ll have a Valentine party and give out our 
Valentine cards.”

The room buzzed with excitement, and the children were mesmerized by the 
beautiful scraps in Teacher’s box.  

“Teacher,” said Creed Allen in a loud voice.  “What’n tarnation is all 
these pictures o’ this here buck nekkid baby doin’ in here?”  He held up 
a picture of Cupid.

Christy laughed.  “That’s Cupid---the god of love.  He’s one of the 
symbols of Valentine’s Day.  People say that when two people fall in 
love, it’s because they were hit with Cupid’s arrows.”

The students were quite taken with this new information, and Ruby Mae 
Morrison gazed starry-eyed across the room at Rob Allen.  “Reckon I know 
e-zackly whatchye mean, Miz Christy,” she murmured.  “I know I’s shorely 
been hit with by it.”



PART III:

EVERY DAY that week, Christy designated a time at the end of the day for 
the children to work on their Valentines.  She had already made one for 
each of her sixty-seven pupils, but now she was working on another one.  
She had taken two paper heart-shaped “doilies” and pasted red hearts on 
top of each of them.  Then she had fastened the hearts together with one 
of Cupid’s arrows.  Carefully, she cut out tiny hearts and flowers to 
decorate the hearts.

“Oh!” cried Ruby Mae.  “Miz Christy, that shorely is th’ right purtiest 
Valentine-card I’s ever laid eyes on!  Who’s it fer?”

Christy blushed a little as other children gathered around to view her 
work.  “I don’t know.  I was just making it for fun,” she said.  It was 
a half-truth.  She had made it for Neil, but she wasn’t planning on 
giving it to him.  “It’s so silly,” she thought.  “He’d just think I was 
a little girl if I gave him a Valentine.”

“Wal,” Ruby Mae was saying, with a sly little glance at Bessie Coburn, 
“I think Doc’ll like it right fine!”

*     *     *     *     *     *

MEANWHILE, Dr. MacNeill was growing more and more anxious about his 
present for Christy.  It was only four days until Valentine’s Day, and 
it had still not arrived.  He even rode to El Pano and found Ben 
Pentland.  
        “Howdy, Doc!” the mailman greeted him.
        “Hello, Ben.  I’m expecting a package to arrive any day now.  Has one 
come for me?”
        “Nope,” replied Ben.  “But I’ll shorely git it t’ ye th’ minute hit 
cums.”  He grinned and asked, hoping Neil would let him in on the 
contents of the package.  “Reckon hit’s pretty important if’n ye rode 
out here t’ find me before I could even bring th’ mail.”
        “Yes, Ben,” Neil answered shortly, swinging up on Charlie.  “It *is* 
important.  You’ll get it to me as soon as it comes?”
        “Will do.  ‘Neither rain---nor snow---nor heat---nor gloom of 
night---will stay these couriers . . .’ ”
        But Neil was already galloping back to Cutter Gap.


PART IV:  

DUSK WAS FALLING on Wednesday, and Neil sat before a crackling fire, 
immersed in a medical journal, when there was a knock at his cabin door.  
He got up and opened it, to find Rob Allen, shivering in the cold.

“Is something wrong, Rob?”
        
“No sir,” the teenaged boy answered respectfully.  “I’m needin’ t’ talk 
with ye ’bout somethin’.”

Neil motioned for the young man to come in.  “Make yourself comfortable, 
Rob.”  

He sat down in his chair, and Rob took a place on the hearth.  

“You know ’bout courtin’, don’t ye Doc?” Rob began.

The Doctor grinned.  “I suppose I know a bit about it.  What is it you 
want to know ?”

“Wal,” Miz Christy’s been tellin’ us ’bout how Valentine’s Day’s fer 
showin’ people how ye care fer ’em an’ sech.  Thought mebbe I could do 
somethin’ nice fer Ruby Mae.”

Neil nodded.  “What do you have in mind?”

“That’s why I cum t’ ye, Doc.  I don’t got no idea what gals like.”

“I see,” replied Neil, running his fingers through his hair as he 
thought.  “It’s been a while since I courted anyone---”

Rob looked a little confused.  “Ain’t ye courtin’ Miz Christy?”

“I suppose I am,” Neil laughed, after the initial shock of Rob’s 
statement wore off.  “Is it that obvious, Rob?”

“Aye,” the boy grinned.  “Shorely is th’ talk o’ Cutter Gap.”

“Is it?” asked the red-headed Doctor.  “But back to your problem.  Most 
girls like it when a young man uses his talents to praise her.  Like in 
the stories, Rob, where the bards sing their ballads to woo the fair 
ladies.”

Rob thought a moment.  “Reckon Ruby Mae’ud like a poem?”

“I reckon she would.”

“I ain’t much of a poet,” Rob said glumly.  “I git bogged down with all 
them rhymes an’ syllables till hit sounds like them nursery rhymes in 
th’ primer schoolbooks.”

“Then don’t worry about those things,” Neil advised.  “You’re a good 
writer, Rob.  Just write what you feel.”

The young man’s eyes flashed as if some fire was rekindled in them, and 
Neil added, “Don’t let it concern you about how Ruby Mae will like your 
poem.  If I know that girl, she’ll be swooning the minute you look at 
her.”

A thoughtful smile played on Rob’s lips.  “Y’know, Doc, I always thought 
girls was plumb silly when they got all swoony ’bout fellers, an’ I 
still do.  Only, fer some reason, I don’t think Ruby Mae’s silly a-tall.  
Hit’s one o’ th’ things I like ’bout ’er, though I dislike hit in 
others.”

Neil patted Rob on the shoulder.  “You’ll find, Rob, that sometimes love 
makes even less sense than anything else in the world.  But that’s 
probably because *women* don’t make any sense, and they’re the ones we 
fall in love with.”

The two of them laughed, then Rob walked to the door.  “Thanks, Doc.  
I’m obleeged.  Be seein’ ye.”

“Any time, Rob,” Neil replied.  He picked up his medical journal and 
attempted to read again, but he could not keep himself focused on it.  
His mind was too distracted by  a million thoughts about a certain 
schoolteacher with the biggest heart and the most beautiful blue eyes he 
had ever seen.


PART V:

THURSDAY was cold and rainy.  Christy had stayed up all night trying to 
think of something she could do for Neil on Valentine’s Day that he 
would not think was silly.  She still had the Valentine she had 
made---it was tucked inside her Bible.  But that was just *too* 
ridiculous, in her opinion.  But  lack sleep and lack of ideas left 
Christy somewhat irritated, and a headache plagued her.  The children 
were almost out of control, they were so excited about the next day’s 
Valentine party and their nearly-completed Valentines, and that only 
reminded Christy that she had nothing to give Neil, furthering her sense 
of melancholy. And the miserable weather did *not* help to improve her 
mood.

After school, as she was putting up some decorations for the next day’s 
party, Christy darkly muttered to herself.

“As if it matters if I have anything for Neil.  He hasn’t even come by 
to see me since Monday, and he was only here then to do his chemistry 
experiments.  I’ve been so foolish to imagine that there’s anything 
between us.  He won’t come today, he won’t come tomorrow, because he has 
no experiments to do, so why should I have a Valentine for him?”

She rambled on and on, occasionally wiping away a tear or choking back a 
sob.  

“I won’t cry,” Christy commanded herself.  “I’ve been so childish about 
Neil; it’s time I acted maturely for once.”

But she broke down and sat down at her desk and wept bitterly until 
Fairlight came in for her reading lesson.

*     *     *     *     *     *
NEIL, TOO was in a black mood.  Ben Pentland had come by that afternoon 
and given him a letter, but there was still no sign of Christy’s 
package.  

“Not that it matters,” the Doctor stewed as he cast out his fishing 
line.  “I’m just an old hillbilly, and she’s a sweet young girl.  What 
would she ever see in me?”  

Neil stood there in the river, the cold water lapping against him, the 
icy rain beating down on him.  He didn’t care.  He was glad it was 
raining.  Sunshine would have only mocked him with the thought of 
Christy’s briilliant smile.  A blue sky would only make him think of 
those eyes . . .

“Neil MacNeill, get out of that freezin’ water and rain right this here 
minute!” Fairlight Spencer shouted from the top of the hill.  

The Doctor ignored the woman and stared straight ahead.  

“D’ ye hear me, Neil?  Ye’ll catch yer death o’ cold!”

With a deep sigh, Neil reeled in his line and trudged up the hill to his 
cabin.  Fairlight ushered him inside.  “Ye git in yer room an’ put on 
some dry clothes.  I’ll make ye some tea, an’ ye kin tell me what this 
here misery’s all about.”

A few minutes later, Neil was dry and sitting in front of the fire, 
talking to Fairlight.  

“I bought a present to give Christy for Valentine’s Day,” he explained, 
“and it hasn’t come yet.  I feel awfully, Fairlight, because she loves 
this holiday, and I don’t have anything to give her.”

“That’s a pile o’ hog wash, Neil,” said Fairlight in a mothering voice.

“What do you suggest I do about it?” Neil asked, agitatedly. 

“Wal, anything but sittin’ here feelin’ sorry fer yerself!  Ye shorely 
ain’t showin’ Christy ye care fer her by ignorin’ her ’cause some 
present ain’t cum.  She don’t care if ye give her nothin’ a-tall.”  
Fairlight softened, sat down next to Neil, and looked him straight in 
the eye.  “I happen t’ know fer a fact that Christy’ll be mighty 
disappointed if’n she don’t at least see ye t’morrow.    I promise ye, 
seein’ you’s enough fer her.”

“But she deserves more than that.”

“All right, then, do somethin’ special.  Give ’er flowers or go fer a 
ride . . .”

For the first time that day, Neil smiled.  “Fairlight, thank you.”

“What fer?  All I did was scold ye like a mother hen.”

Neil laughed.  “That’s all you’ve *ever* done, my whole life.  I need 
it, too.”

“Aye,” Fairlight laughed.  “Ye do.  An’ so do I, sometimes.”  The blonde 
woman stood up.  “Wal, I reckon I’d best be goin’.  Keep dry an’ stay 
close by that fire t’night.  Last thing this here Cove needs is an 
ailin’ Doctor.”


PART VI:

As she walked down the muddy path to her cabin, Fairlight met Jeb.  

“What’r ye doin’, Fairlight?” 

“Scoldin’ Neil,” she replied frankly.

Jeb laughed.  “Tell me somethin’ new.”

Fairlight smiled at her husband.  “What’r *you* doin’ hereabouts?”

“Got somethin’ t’ discuss with Neil.”  
His wife nodded. “I’m a-goin’ t’ start supper.  Don’t stay too long, 
y’hear, Jeb Spencer?”

“Ye think I’d ever be late fer yer meals, Fairlight?”

“Git along then, Jeb,” Fairlight giggled, blushing at the tender 
expression on Jeb’s face.  She gathered up her skirts and scurried off 
down the trail.

Jeb didn’t even knock before entering Neil’s cabin.  “Howdy,” he greeted 
his friend.  “My wife been givin’ ye grief?”

“Come on in, Jeb, the door’s open,” Neil laughed.  “Not any more than 
usual.  But what brings you here?”

“Feel a mite silly fer cumin’ t’ ask this,” said Jeb sheepishly.  “My 
young’uns is all about this here Valentine’s Day business.  John’s all 
out writin’ songs fer Bessie Coburn . . . Ye reckon this is fer married 
folks, too?”

“*Especially* for married people, Jeb.”

Mr. Spencer nodded.  “I’ve been wantin’ t’ do somethin’ nice fer 
Fairlight fer a piece now.  Oh, we’ve a-made up, but I still feel right 
badly ’bout th’ tea house . . . Know any ways I could go about 
romancin’?”

“Why does everyone keep asking *me* about romance?”  Neil thought.  He 
said, after a moment, “When you courted Fairlight, was there a special 
place you went?  A flower you always gave her?  A song you sang?”

“Reckon thar was.  If’n I think on hit, I kin recall some things.”  Jeb 
cocked his head uncertainly.  “What’r ye gettin’ at?”

“Court Fairlight again, Jeb.  Leave the children at home and do just 
what you did when you and Fairlight were younger.”

Jeb’s face lit up.  “That seems like a right fine idea!  But Fairlight 
won’t think hit’s silly?  Reckon she’ll remember hit’s what we did when 
we was courtin’?”

“Jeb, I’m surprised at you!  You’ve been married to Fairlight for more 
than fifteen years, and you haven’t yet discovered that women remember 
*everything*?”

“I ain’t *that* simple, Neil!”  Jeb laughed.  “I’s jest makin’ shore.”

“Well, Fairlight will be thrilled that *you* remember when you courted 
her!  That makes for *fine* romancin’.”

The two men laughed.

“Speekin’ o’ courtin’, Neil,” said Jeb as he was leaving.  “D’ye plan t’ 
do any romancin’ yerself?  I hear Miz Christy’s all fer Valentines!”

“People keep telling me that,” Neil grinned.  

“Wal, ye’d better git to hit!”

“Aye,” Neil said to himself, lost in thought.  “I’d better.”



PART  VII:

VALENTINE’S DAY dawned as beautifully as Monday had been---it was even 
*more* beautiful, perhaps, because of the stark contrast between it and 
the previous day’s weather. 

Christy was in much better spirits, especially after the talk she had 
had with Fairlight.  Her friend had assured her that Neil *did* care 
about her and that he would never think anything she did was silly.  
Christy still doubted that Neil would not think her Valentine was silly, 
but she put it in her school bag anyway.

When Christy arrived at the schoolhouse, she met Neil coming out.
“Good morning, Neil.  What are you doing?”

“Looking for you, actually,” he said, gazing at her intently.  “Do you 
have any plans for tonight?”

“No,” Christy replied quickly, her heart giving a little flutter.

“Well,” Neil said, nervously, not knowing how to put his question.  
“Would---would you like to do something---with---me?”

“I’d love to.”  

Christy gave him such a beautiful smile, Neil immediately was relieved 
and natural again.  “Then shall I come for you after school?  
Four-thirty?”

“Four-thirty will be fine,” Christy assured him.  

Neil smiled and said good-bye, and Christy entered the schoolhouse.  Oh 
her desk was an elegant bouquet of deep red roses.  Christy let out a 
little gasp of delight and thought, “Where would he get red roses around 
here?  He must have gone to El Pano, or Lyleton even!  He *does* care!  
I can’t wait until four-thirty!”  



PART VIII:  

MISS ALICE had been in Cataleechie for the past two weeks, and she rode 
up into the mission yard at lunchtime.  Ben Pentland rode up on his mule 
at exactly the same time.

“U-NITED STATES MA-IL!”

“Mr. Pentland!”  Miss Alice called to him.  “It is good to see thee this 
lovely day!”

“Wal,” replied the mailman, hopping down from his animal.  “I’m rightly 
glad t’ see ye, too, Miz Henderson.”

The Quaker lady smiled as she slowed her horse.  “Have you mail for the 
mission?”  Her face changed as Ben walked up beside Goldie and reached 
out his hand to help her dismount.  “Th-thank you, Mr. Pentland,” 
stammered Miss Alice as she accepted his hand and dismounted.  

“Warn’t nothin’,” he returned, a wide grin spreading across his face.  
“No, thar ain’t no mail fer th’ mission.  Jest a package fer Doc 
MacNeill---he’s been rightly fitified t’ git it, too.”  Ben lowered his 
voice.  “In my mind, I s’pect hit’s somethin’ fer Miz Christy.”

“The Doctor receives lots of packages for which he anxiously awaits,” 
said Miss Alice.  “We must not jump to conclusions, Mr. Pentland.”

Suddenly, the lanky mailman took one long stride and stopped in front of 
Miss Alice.  

“ ‘Th’ wind was a torrent o’ darkness among th’ gusty trees,
    Th’ moon was a ghostly gal-yun tossed upon cloudy seas,
    Th’ road was a ribbon o’ moonlight over th’ purple moor,
    An’ th’ highway man came ridin’---
        Ridin’---ridin’---
    Th’ highwayman came ridin’, up t’ th’ old inn-door.’ ”

Miss Alice stared dumbly as Ben Pentland recited all seventeen stanzas 
of “The Highwayman”.  

“ ‘And still of a winter’s night, they way, when th’ wind is in th’ 
trees,
    When th’ moon is a ghostly gal-yun tossed upon cloudy seas,
    When th’ road is a ribbon o’ moonlight over th’ purple moor,
     A highwayman comes ridin’---
        Ridin’---ridin’---
     A highway man comes ridin’, up t’ th’ old inn-door.

    Over th’ cobbles he clatters and clangs in th’ dark inn-yard;
    An’ he taps with his whip on th’ shutters, but all is locked and 
barred;
    He whistles a tune t’ th’ window, an’ who should be waiting there
    But th’ landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
        Bess, th’ landlord’s daughter,
    Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.’ ”

After several minutes of silence, Ben asked, imploringly, “Wal, what’d 
ye thank, Miz Henderson?  Whar that a good courtin’ poem?  I read hit in 
some paper at th’ El Pano General Store---by some Noyes feller---an’ I 
liked hit jest ’bout as well as ‘Th’ Shootin’ o’ Dan MacGrew’.”

“I am amazed, Mr. Pentland, at thy great ability to recite such long 
works,” said Miss Alice sincerely.  “And ‘The Highwayman’ is a fine 
courting poem.  But who are you courting now?”

The mailman smacked his tobacco and grinned.  “Law, Miz Henderson, I 
larned it jest fer *you*.  We git along so well, I jest thought mebbe . 
. .”  Ben rubbed his neck self-consciously, noticing that Miss Alice was 
blushing.  “You ain’t angry, are ye?”

“No, Mr. Pentland,” she replied, smiling.  “I am *not* angry with thee.  
Would you care to join me for lunch?”

“I shorely would,” he said eagerly, and he grinned even wider than ever 
when he extended his arm and Miss Alice took it.


PART IX:

THE VALENTINE PARTY was a great success.  Much to Christy’s delight, 
every student received a Valentine from someone other than herself, and 
she received sixty-seven Valentines she would forever cherish.  After 
all the cards were exchanged, everyone drank punch and heart-shaped 
cookies which Christy had made as a special treat.

At the close of school, as the students were mingling in the schoolyard, 
laughing and playing before going home, Rob Allen timidly went over to 
Ruby Mae, who was standing with a group of girls.  

“Ruby Mae, kin I talk with ye?”

“ ’Course, Rob Allen,” the girl replied shyly.

Rob gently took Ruby Mae’s hand and led her over to a cluster of trees.  
There, he knelt in front of her, still holding her hand, gazing up into 
her eyes, and began to recite the poem he had written for her.

“ ‘Fair maid in mountain glen
    With tresses deepest ruby red,
    That stone which bear her name,
    She glimmers brighter than that jewel
    This maid, so sweet and kind.
    She, a treasure to behold
    More even than that gem . . .’ ”

*     *     *     *     *     *

BESSIE COBURN’S eyes were filled with tears.   John Spencer had just 
sung her the lilting ballad of love he had written for her.  

“D’ye mean that, John Spencer?  After all I done t’ ye, ye’d still write 
me a song, sayin’ I was yer only love?”
“I mean hit, Bessie,” replied the tall blonde-haired boy.  “Yer th’ only 
gal-woman fer me.  Always have been, always will be.”

John glance around to make sure no one was watching, then kissed 
Bessie’s cheek tenderly.  “I always liked kissin’ yer rosy lips th’ 
best, but we done gotten ourselves in too much trouble fer kissin’ 
a-fore.  I hope someday yer paw’ll see me as good enough fer ye.  An’ I 
don’t want t’ to cause ye to be dishonerin’ his wishes.”

“I love ye, John Spencer,” Bessie smiled through her tears.  “An’ ye 
don’t sing like a frog---not a-tall!”



PART X:

CHRISTY went back to the mission house as soon as all the children had 
left the school.  She went straight to her bedroom and changed her 
clothes, took down her hair and carefully arranged her long, chestnut 
curls.  She put on her favorite perfume, grabbed her pretty dark blue 
jacket and started back to the schoolhouse, where Neil would meet her.  

It was a quarter after four when she sat down at her desk and sorted 
through stacks of graded and yet-to-be-graded papers.  The task was 
finished quickly, and Christy bustled about the room straightening 
things so that when Neil arrived she would not appear to be too anxious.  

A few minutes later, Christy heard a horse’s neigh.  She found her 
Valentine for Neil---just in case---and put it in her pocket, then ran 
outside.  

Neil didn’t  even dismount Charlie.  He just sat there, watching 
Christy, so beautiful, running to him, a boyish smile on his face.  

 “My dream,” Christy thought as Neil reached down for her and easily 
pulled her up behind him on Charlie’s back.  “It’s just like my dream!”  

*     *     *     *     *     *

FAIRLIGHT was peeling potatoes for dinner, when there was a knock on the 
cabin door.  

“Come on in,” she called.

The door opened, and there stood Jeb, wearing his Sunday best, holding a 
bouquet of dried mountain laurel.  

Fairlight’s blue eyes grew wide.  “Jeb Spencer, what *are* you up to?”

“Wal,” her husband replied, gazing lovingly at the woman who was so 
lovely, even when wearing an apron and peeling potatoes.  “I asked yer 
daddy, an’ he said I could court ye.”

The woman looked confused, but Jeb went to her and took the bowl of 
potatoes and her knife and handed them to Zady.  “D’ye want t’ go 
traipsin’, Fairlight?”

For a moment, Fairlight stared at him, practicality telling her she had 
supper to prepare, her heart telling her to go with her husband.  She 
smiled, stood, and took her husband’s hand and the flowers.  “T’night’s 
a good courtin’ night, I reckon, Jeb Spencer.”

Jeb and Fairlight walked hand-in-hand through the frosty woods until 
they reached a little alcove beside a frozen stream.  

“Why, Jeb,” Fairlight’s voice cracked slightly, and she was misty-eyed.  
“I hain’t been here since---”

“Fairlight Allen,” said Jeb, taking both his wife’s hands, “yer th’ 
purtiest girl in th’ Cove.”  He gave her a quick kiss on the lips, then 
grinned down at her.

“Just like that!”  cried Fairlight.  “Jeb, that’s jest whatchye did th’ 
first time ye courted me!  This was th’ place we always came to t’ be 
alone at.”
“I figgered we needed t’ be alone agin, hit bein’ Valentine’s Day’n 
all.”

Fairlight laughed, joyful tears stinging her eyes.  “Jeb Spencer you do 
beat all!”

The mountain man sang lustily:

“Cheeks as red as a bloomin’ rose,
Eyes of the deepest brown,
You are the darlin’ of my heart,
Stay till the sun goes down.”

Then the happy couple laughed again, and Jeb pulled his wife into his 
arms and kissed her passionately. 

“I love you, Fairlight!”

“Oh, don’t talk none, Jeb!” gasped Fairlight longingly.  “There ain’t 
young’uns ’round;  kiss me agin!”



PART XI:

NEIL AND CHRISTY rode up in Neil’s yard about twenty minutes later.  The 
Doctor swung down from the horse, then reached up for Christy.  For a 
moment, neither of them moved.  Christy’s hands rested on Neil’s 
shoulders, and his arms were around her waist.  
  
Then, Neil took Christy’s hand and led her over to a table, beautifully 
set.  At one of the places was a wreath of red roses.  Neil picked it up 
and gently placed it on Christy’s flowing curls.    Her beauty---her 
shining hair, so natural with the velvety crimson petals resting atop 
it, those fathomless blue eyes gazing up at him---made him to catch his 
breath.

With great effort, Neil brought himself out of his reverie and pulled 
out Christy’s chair.  She sat down and smiled up at him.  

“Excuse me for a moment, Miss Huddleston, and I’ll get our dinner,” Neil 
said, then disappeared into his cabin.

In no time, the Doctor returned, with a perfectly cooked chicken.  
Christy recalled the last meal they had shared at Neil’s cabin---the one 
*she* had prepared.

“You didn’t burn it,” she commented.

Neil set the chicken and a bowl of cooked vegetables on the table then 
sat down.  A curious smile was on his face.  “I know.  I tried to do it 
your way, but I just don’t have that much talent . . .”  His eyes 
twinkled.  “Actually, Christy, I didn’t cook---  I’m even worse than 
you.”

Christy arched her eyebrows, and Neil caught his blunder.  “That’s not 
what I meant . . .”

The young schoolteacher burst into peals of helpless laughter.  “You 
*did* mean it, Doctor!”

Neil joined her laughter, and as both recalled that night, it was a 
while before either was calm enough to talk or eat.

Finally, Christy asked, “Well, if  *you* didn’t cook, who did?”

“Fairlight.  She came over this afternoon and prepared it all, then put 
it in the oven for me to take out when you got here.”

Neil grinned again.  “There’s blackberry cobbler, too.  So if you’re not 
impressed with this . . .”

Christy groaned, and Neil winked.  “Sorry, but I couldn’t resist.”

After the meal, Neil went to the porch and turned on the phonograph.
“A cheap dance by the river . . .” Christy said coquettishly.

“I take it back,” Neil replied in a low voice, putting his arm around 
Christy’s waist and taking her delicate hand in his large, rough one.  
“A dance with you is priceless.”

The waltzed in silence for a few minutes, listening to the music and the 
gentle flowing of the river. 

“You know, Christy,” said Neil.  “That evening you came here, using your 
wiles to your advantage, you were really quite merciless.”

Christy blushed, but Neil continued.  “You got me to tell you I’d been 
miserable alone for so long, then you said it was time I had a helpmate 
. . .”

The couple stopped dancing, and Neil held Christy very close.  “I’m 
sorry about---”

Neil interrupted her, not seeming to hear her apology.  He gazed deeply 
into her eyes.  “I thought you were suggesting that *you* would be my 
helpmate, and I nearly forgot everything and asked you to marry me then 
and there.   But now---Will you, Christy?”

“What?” Christy asked, shocked, letting go of Neil’s hand.

The Doctor reached into his coat pocket and took out a small velvet box.  
“I love you, Christy.  Will you marry me?”

He opened the box to reveal a ring, a ruby with a tiny diamond on either 
side of it.

“Neil!” she gasped.  

Dr. MacNeill was in agony.  “Christy---”

Arms wrapped around his neck, and Christy stood on her toes and kissed 
his cheek again and again.  “Yes, Neil, I’ll marry you!”  

His eyes filled with emotion and the purest love, Neil leaned over and 
claimed Christy’s lips.  He had never kissed her before, and it was 
sweeter than anything he’d ever known.  Christy ran her fingers through 
Neil’s hair, and he kissed her even more passionately.  

At last, the lovers drew back from one another, and Neil took the 
beautiful ring from the box and tenderly slipped in onto Christy’s 
finger.  She smiled, and he drew her to him again, and said, his brogue 
husky, “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

*Happy Valentine’s Day*.  Christy suddenly remembered the Valentine in 
her pocket.  Gingerly, she took it out, and gave it to Neil.  

“I made this for you.  I wasn’t going to give it to you, because I was 
afraid you’d think it was silly . . .”

“Never, Christy,” Neil assured her, examining Christy’s simple, 
hand-made expression of her love for him.  “Two heart’s joined together 
by Cupid’s arrow . . .”

Christy smiled and again twined her arms around Neil’s neck.  “Happy 
Valentine’s Day!”

The End