Title:  Light in the Stone
Author:  Catherine F.

Introduction:  With this my first fanfiction, I offer my interpretation
of the events that may have followed the final-run episode of "Christy". 
As is apparent to many of you, the romantic possibilities merely hinted
at in "The Road Home" deserve further exploration.  We have yet to see
the onscreen love triangle resolved, so I have taken it upon myself to
join other "Christy" fanfiction writers in continuing that storyline. 
Please remember that these are merely my musings.  However, I have read
so much of the other fanfiction that a swirl of images from the show,
book, and other writings has no doubt affected the outcome.  I mean to
show only the greatest respect for all things "Christy" in writing and
posting this story.   (Note:  Italicized text indicated by single
quotes.)

Disclaimer:  The following novella was written out of love for the
beautiful story of  "Christy" and is meant solely for the enjoyment of
other "Christy" fans.  The LeSourd family holds the rights to "Christy". 
No infringement on those rights is intended.


                        Light in the Stone

Chapter One

        High above the mission house, the waxing moon drifted behind a lacework
of gray, wispy clouds.  Patches of familiar constellations slowly blinked
into view and disappeared, revealing stars hidden moments before. 
Christy Huddleston watched the shifting skyscape from the balcony of her
bedroom.  Many restless nights had made this a ritual for the young
woman.  She was discovering the mountains could offer her their
tranquillity even when she could not see them.  Each evening a hush fell
over the cove when the sun fell behind the western ridge and darkness
claimed Cutter Gap.  As Christy leaned on the railing just as she had
done so many nights before, she found herself unable to find comfort in
the sparkling stars and cool moonlight, longing instead for rolling
thunder and pouring rain.  Somehow she needed the sky to mirror the
torrent of her emotions.  


        She recalled the strained atmosphere at dinner.  Miss Alice remained
silent concerning the latest disappearance of her daughter.  David had
looked at Christy accusingly after finishing his dinner in silence. 
Christy wondered at the glance, but had been lost in her thoughts.  He
had retreated to his bunkhouse early and she had not seen him since.  She
had only been able to pick at her food, excusing herself soon after he
left.  The tension in the room had silenced even Ruby Mae. 
      

     It had been over a month of the same.  A month and the weight of her
decision pressed against her now as though she had made it just that
afternoon.  Ever since the very day she had stood between Neil and David,
forced to finally make a choice, the lives of those she loved had been in
upheaval.  Christy blamed herself for all of it, knowing her decision had
shaken the foundations of the relationships she held most dear.  She had
known turning down one man meant not being able to fulfill her heart’s
desire.  She had known and allowed her heart to break anyway.  


        Now, gazing at the moon high above her balcony, Christy longed for
resolution.  She remembered her prayer to God for help while she had
stood in front of the schoolhouse that day.  David, Neil, the children,
even the heavy, overcast sky—all of them had seemed to be willing her to
speak.  Then, like a miniature exploding star in her chest, she had known
instantly what to say to David.  Perhaps God meant to help her now by
giving her the peace of nighttime in Cutter Gap and she was just being
too stubborn to receive His love.  She began a silent prayer when a white
form moving along the edge of the tree line behind the mission caught her
eye.  Moonlight reflected off a white dress and a woman’s pale skin, but
her facial features remained undefined due to the distance.  Christy knew
the stranger could see her and a chill raced down her spine.  The figure
stopped and looked in Christy’s direction causing the young teacher to
hold her breath.  At last the figure retreated into the darkness of the
trees and Christy exhaled in relief.  As if freed from the grip of a
hallucination, she quickly retreated into her room, shut the doors, and
fastened the latch behind her.  As she leaned against the frame to regain
composure a violent shiver tore through her body.  She knew the
moonshiners preferred to do much of their business in the dark of night,
but wasn’t aware of any of the women of the cove that would be involved. 
No, there had to be another explanation for the stranger’s appearance,
and believing in ghosts was not an option for Christy.  Though she
doubted she would be able to sleep after what had just transpired,
Christy burrowed under the quilts.  Their warmth and protection
eventually persuaded her body to claim its much needed rest.

                                * * *
        "Christy, if thou art not too busy, I’d like an opportunity with thee
later."  Miss Alice’s request disconcerted Christy.  She’d been lost in
her thoughts and had not eaten any of her breakfast, but at that moment
she realized that meals had been much this way for several weeks.


        "Of course, Miss Alice, I just need to tend to some chores first."  She
said the words slowly, thinking about how she could postpone what would
likely prove a difficult conversation.


        Miss Alice looked at her skeptically but did not push the matter.  "Very
well.  We will have our meeting later on." 


        The young school teacher excused herself and went outside to feed the
animals.  She hoped Ruby Mae hadn’t beaten her to the task.


        As she opened the wooden gate David had constructed, she remembered how
sullen he had seemed last night.  He hadn’t made an appearance at
breakfast and she wondered if he had gone out early for a ride on Prince.
 He’d taken to going to El Pano so often, not only on his usual
Saturdays, it seemed, and she knew he was exploring farther out from
Cutter Gap into other settlements.  He’d suddenly taken an interest in
mapping the area out in his mind, as if he wanted to know it as well as
the Bible verses he quoted for Sunday service.  As she entered the
stable, she stopped short.  David had his back to her and was vigorously
brushing Prince’s back.  His movements seemed harsh and Prince stomped
and snorted in protest in between David’s long strokes.  Prince was an
amazingly good tempered horse to withstand such treatment.  He’s still
angry with me, she thought.  Sensing that her presence would disturb him
further, she considered running back to mission, but indignation at the
treatment Prince was receiving overpowered her fear.


        "David."  Her voice sounded strangled to her.  He didn’t seem to hear. 
"David!"  This time she managed more force.  She stepped toward him and
boldly gripped his arm, stopping his hand as it brushed the horse’s
flank.  "David, stop it!"  


        He didn’t look at her.  "If you don’t mind, Christy, I need to finish
grooming Prince."


        "You call this grooming?  You’re going to rub all the hair off of him
this way."


        He stood straight and looked down at her, his facial muscles locked like
stone.  "Don’t presume to tell me how to groom a horse.  I’ve been caring
for horses since I was a young lad.  I know my way around them."


        His words stung.  Why did he always talk down to her like this?  At that
moment she couldn’t believe she’d ever imagined she was in love with this
man.  "Fine.  I’ll leave you.  But just think about this.  Taking out
your anger on Prince just because I refused to marry you is just like
Bird’s-Eye Taylor cutting off Prince’s tail and mane because you preached
against moonshining.  I thought you cared about what happened to Prince. 
Obviously he only matters when it suits your mood.  Besides, it’s been a
month now.  You need to let go.  I have."  Christy finished bluntly.


        He stared at her open mouthed, obviously surprised by her outburst, but
a shadow soon passed over his expression.  Christy stared up at the eyes
that had once looked at her with fervent affection.  Now all she could
see was pain and a blackness that disturbed her.  Once it was clear he
would offer no rebuttal, she turned on her heel and stalked up the hill
back to the mission.


        She swung the kitchen door open with too much force and it banged
against the house with a crash.  Christy immediately regretted the
heedless action when she nearly ran into Miss Alice.  With a determined
voice Miss Alice spoke, "Christy, I believe now is the best time for our
talk.  Walk with me. . .outside."


        They walked quietly for several minutes about the yard as each woman
collected her thoughts.  Christy’s mind was filled with the events of the
past month as well as all that had led up to them.  Had it really been
more than four weeks since she’d refused David once and for all in front
of the schoolhouse?  Yet, she had barely discussed the matter with Miss
Alice as they had both been preoccupied with their separate heartaches. 
How could she possibly reveal her love for Neil to the mother of Neil’s
wife?  The last golds and reds of autumn did not bring her heart the joy
they usually did.


        "Christy, thee has been most troubled lately, and though I think I know
part of the reason, I’m sure there must be more than thy decision not to
marry David.  I know for a fact that sharing one’s feelings with a friend
helps ease the burden.  I do not wish to push thee, but I am worried
about thee.  Thou art looking pale and have withdrawn into thyself.  I
fear we will soon not be able to reach thee. . .or David,"  she added
with a glance toward the livestock pens where David was tossing grain to
the chickens. 


        The light and warmth in Miss Alice’s eyes and countenance touched
Christy deeply.  She had been so concerned about revealing the depths of
her struggle to her mentor that she had forgotten the love between them. 
Still it seemed she had to fight for the words to come, her voice
wavering all the while.  "Oh Miss Alice.  I have so wanted to tell you. 
I know it is wrong of me to feel this way. . . about Neil, I mean, but I
didn’t even know what real love felt like, how it changes your whole
heart and mind, how it causes such pain.  I. . .David just isn’t right
for me.  I don’t love him. . .I can’t.  He doesn’t even know me, not the
way Neil does."  A frightened look crossed her face as she realized how
her confession must be making her sound to the Quaker missionary.  "I
haven’t told Neil.  I. . .we haven’t done anything, or said anything.  I
don’t intend to. . .I haven’t even spoken to him for weeks.  I’m so
sorry.  I must be a terrible disappointment to you, Miss Alice."


        Miss Alice looked at Christy intently, considering her answer. 
"Christy, it is not my place to judge thee.  I wonder, how do you think
God feels about this matter?  I believe He would be disappointed if thee
did not bring this matter to His attention."


        I’ve tried to pray, but it just seems like I can’t give Him this.  It
seems so wrong."


        "Does thee think the Lord disapproves of the love thee feels?  God is
the author and source of all love.  Perhaps the greatest part of thy
struggle is that thee thinks God is not already in the midst of thy
trouble.  Does thee not believe He will work on thy behalf in this matter
if thee asks Him?  Thee does not know his plan for you, but I am certain
He will show thee why thy heart treasures someone who is unavailable to
thee . . .except as a friend. Trust in God.  Seek faith.  He will not
disappoint."


         Christy managed a weak smile as she considered her mentor’s words.  If
God approved of her feelings, why then did she feel guilt over David and
also Neil?  Why did she harbor anger toward Margaret if she truly called
herself a Christian?  Miss Alice had not directly said it, but Christy
knew she must spend time in prayer to not only ask God’s forgiveness but
to seek His direction as well. 

 
        Miss Alice touched Christy’s cheek with the palm of her hand gently. 
"Thee must not be concerned about how I feel in this matter.  I love thee
and know thee cannot help thy feelings for Neil.  I suspected long ago
that something deeper than friendship was growing between thee and Neil.
. .before we knew Margaret was still alive."


        Christy’s eyes widened at the thought that Alice had known all along the
contents of her heart when it seemed she had not for so long.


        Chuckling softly, Miss Alice assured her, "Thee is not always so
transparent, Christy, despite what I have just told thee.  It required
time and observation for me to reach such a conclusion.  Only God knows
the entirety of thy heart."


        "What should I do, Miss Alice?  I can’t stop the way I feel but I know I
can never be happy this way.  I’ve not forgotten Neil is a married man. 
It seems no matter what solutions I come up with, I will only hurt those
I love.  I mean, just look at David.  I’ve never seen him more full of
sadness and anger.  I did that to him.  I can only imagine how you must
feel about me being in love with your, your daughter’s husband."  Hot,
silent tears coursed down her cheeks.  Christy turned away from Miss
Alice’s gaze.


        "Christy Huddleston, thee does impact the lives of those around thee,
but thee did not make David unable to release his anger.  Nor has thee
been anything but a source of joy in my life.  And, I would venture to
say that the love thou has for Neil is a blessing in his life, and in the
lives of those around thee.  Yes, despite the hurt it causes thee knowing
thee cannot do anything about it.  But, it is precisely thy ability to
love and dream so deeply which makes thee a remarkable human being and
servant of God.  Do not be ashamed of what thee feels.  Let it be a
blessing, instead.  And wait on the Lord. . .who will fulfill thy deepest
dreams in His perfect timing."


        Christy turned back to face her mentor and marveled at the woman’s great
compassion for her.  At times Miss Alice’s words had been difficult to
swallow, but Christy had always taken the woman’s advice to heart.  She
had a capacity to grow under Miss Alice’s tutelage that Christy craved. 
She longed to grow in faith and wisdom like the Quaker woman.  She longed
to become the person God wanted her to become.  


        A thought suddenly occurred to her.  "Miss Alice, I’d like to take the
rest of the day for a retreat.  There are some things I need to talk to
God about, and I’d rather go someplace where I won’t be distracted." 

 
        Miss Alice noticed her worried glance in David’s direction.  Clearly the
rift between the two young people needed healing.  Perhaps Christy’s
retreat would help her take the first step toward reconciliation.  If
only David would be willing to follow her example.  "Thee may take all
the time thee needs,"  Miss Alice smiled warmly.



Chapter Two

        A man crouched before a large fire, gazing into the flames.  Long and
unkempt, his curly, sand-colored hair glinted with red highlights in the
sun.  A pile of brush, rotten boards, clothing, and other bits of rubbish
comprised the bulk of the blaze.  In addition, he had fed a broken
spindle-legged chair to the fire.  His wife had often taken the chair out
to the back of the cabin, settling herself beneath the old hickory tree
beside the stable to read.  All reminders of her must be erased if he
intended to forget her and move on with his life.  That meant, he
realized, clearing the overgrown area between the stable, smokehouse, and
cabin and reclaiming the spot for himself.  Come spring he would plant
herbs and vegetables in this area that received more sun during the day
than his existing garden beds.


        Dreaming of gardens brought only bittersweet relief.  The weight of
caring for another troubled the man more deeply than anything his wife
had ever done.  But it was because his wife still lived, out there,
somewhere, that this burden hurt him so deeply.  Neil MacNeill clutched
the last remaining dress desperately to his chest, the one he had held
back the night before once he’d discovered it among the pile of clothing
he meant to destroy.  An image of a beautiful, fiery young woman with
shining blue eyes filled his thoughts.  He caught his breath as if she
were truly standing before him.  Christy had been breathtaking in this
dress.  He could not recall ever feeling as enchanted by his wife, though
he had once believed he loved her.  Still, he had resisted the feelings
Christy stirred in him from the beginning.  Why had he later allowed
himself to foster delusions about her, even after Margaret’s return? 
Neil resolutely tossed the dress into the bonfire, the hungry flames at
last engulfing the lavender silk gown, reducing the memory to ash.


        "Goodbye, Christy," he whispered into the fire.  "I love you."

                                * * *
        Leg muscles straining to speed her, Christy made her way to the shelf of
rock that had been a place of discovery for her just weeks ago. 
Fairlight, her dearest friend, had guided her toward the deeper love
dwelling in her heart for Neil. . .so much deeper than she had ever
imagined possible.  She walked in long strides, eager to reach her
destination and the time with God she so desired.  She didn’t bother
sorting out the jumble of incoherent thoughts and images that careened
about in her mind.  Attempting to find a solution before offering her
problems to God seemed a pointless effort.  Her answer would come later,
she knew, if she could only find an hour of peace in which to listen. 
Perhaps just the sight of the Smoky Mountains, peaks layered far into the
distance, would ease her spirit.  


        Her satchel banged against her thigh, heavy with food, her Bible, and
sketchbook.  Growing warm with exertion, she removed her coat and tied it
around her waist, despite the brisk fall air.  Her steps shortened as the
path steepened.  Soon, she stepped out onto an exposed limestone slab
jutting purposely out over the mountain and deep valley below.  The view
in the midday sun was dazzling.  A few stubborn red maples retaining
their fall foliage added bright bursts of color against the gray-brown of
barren trees and dark greens of the spruces and pines.  The silvery
thread of a  waterfall caught her eye far to the right of her available
view.  It spilled off a cliff and plunged into a river that cut deep into
the valley floor.  As her quickened breath eased to normal, she felt an
onrush of joy at the sight before her she had not felt for weeks.   Her
spirit revived as her senses bathed in the glories of nature again. 
Perhaps now she would be able to commune with God.


        Choosing a portion of smooth stone bathed in sunlight, she sat and drank
in the view.  Closing her eyes, she listened to the bird song and a
breeze whispering in the trees.  A mountain dove cooed softly nearby. 
Yes, here she could confide in God and find comfort for her troubled
spirit.  Christy poured out her heart to the awaiting ears of her
Heavenly Father.  It wasn’t long before a spiritual wind moved through
her, bringing her peace and the knowledge that God, indeed, was in the
midst of her darkness.


        Christy awoke to the sound of an animal piercing the night with its
death cry.  Startled and not fully cognizant, she jumped to her feet and
peered into the darkness of the forest.  Complete stillness followed the
drama she’d heard just moments before, but her pulse still raced. 
Probably an owl catching dinner or even a red fox.  She’d spotted one of
the elusive creatures one evening when she had gone to fetch water to
wash the dishes.  It had scurried quickly into the camouflage a patch of
rhododendron shrubs afforded giving her only a blurry glimpse.  Neither
animal seemed threatening to her, but still Christy shivered, more in
response to the cold than fear.  She’d fallen asleep on the sun-warmed
rock and awoken to the chill of a November night.  How long she’d been
asleep she could not tell.  Clouds seemed to be obscuring the moon, but
she could see most of the stars.  Perhaps the clouds would move away
soon, allowing her some measure of light to navigate back to the mission.
 Fear gripped at her heart at the thought of walking so far in the dark
woods.  "God, I need you again," she spoke into the night.  She asked for
the protection of God’s angels on her trek down the mountain.


        As if on cue, the nearly full moon emerged from a bank of clouds,
illuminating a break in the trees that seemed to lead to a trail.  With
determination, Christy started down the path, grasping small tree trunks
to ease her down the steepest parts.  She moved slowly, unable to discern
all the details in the landscape that were easily recognizable during the
day.  Still, she occasionally stumbled over some unseen root or plant and
felt the slap of low branches against her legs.  Although she was wearing
her coat, Christy’s teeth chattered while she hiked down the mountain. 
Trembling so much only hampered her progress.  


        After she had hiked the path for some time, it dawned on her that the
landscape had become unfamiliar.  Clearly she had taken the wrong path. 
Christy realized she should just find the nearest cabin and take shelter
for the night rather than try to make it all the way to the mission.  
Pausing to rest and get her bearings, she heard a rustling of dried
leaves behind her.  Christy’s heart leapt to her throat.  She was having
plenty of reinforcement for her fear of the dark this night.  She forced
herself to turn slowly, hoping to spot a possum or other small creature
searching for food.  What she saw caused her to gasp in surprise instead.
 Margaret Henderson stood before her, dressed in what appeared to be a
wedding gown.


        Noticing Christy’s dumbstruck expression, Margaret seized the
opportunity of speaking first.  "Christy, what a surprise.  Imagine
running into you in the middle of the night on the outskirts of my
husband’s land."  A thought suddenly occurred to her and she demanded, 
"just what are you doing here, anyway?" 


        Christy couldn’t think of a reply right away.  Was she so close to
Neil’s cabin?  Was Margaret staying with him?  Suddenly, she remembered
the woman in a white dress the other night.  She’d nearly forgotten.  Her
eyes took in the condition of the dress and of Margaret.  The dress hung
on her body, parts of it nearly in shreds, and the white fabric
heightened the ghastly hue of her skin.  Though the moonlight still
seemed to make the dress glow, Christy could see dirt smudges in various
places on the dress, dulling the effect.  Margaret’s hair was disheveled
as well.  It was clear she had been wandering the mountainside for some
time.  


        "It was you at the mission last night.  You were the stranger I spotted.
. .wearing that dress."


        Margaret smirked, "Ah, so you didn’t know it was me.  Did I frighten
you?  Oh, don’t look so surprised, Miss Huddleston.  If I can’t charm by
my good looks anymore, I might as well assume a different role.  I must
have caused quite a stir among these superstitious hillbillies by now,
wouldn’t you say, Christy?  The ghost of Cutter Gap."


        The anger Christy believed she had conquered threatened to well up in
her again, so she tried to ignore Margaret’s comments.   "Perhaps I
should ask you why you are wandering about at night wearing a wedding
dress." 


        "Oh, this old thing?"  She grasped the skirt with both hands and twirled
slowly around.  "It’s only the dress Mac bought me for our wedding.  I
thought it only fitting that I wear it one last time before I die, for
old time’s sake."  She laughed low to herself as she grew thoughtful.  "I
wanted to find out what it would be like to see this whole cove,
imagining myself as Neil’s wife again, his wife when that word meant
something to him."   Her voice raised in pitch as she argued with
herself, seeming to have forgotten Christy’s presence.  "No, I was a
ghost bride to him practically from the beginning.  It made no difference
when I faked my death.  I was already as good as dead pretending to be
housewife to a man who cared nothing for me."  She looked hard at
Christy.  "No woman will ever get that man’s attention and keep it.  Not
even you, Christy."


        "I. . .who says I want his attention?" Christy protested, falteringly. 
"We’re only friends."  Christy considered her statement a moment and then
regretfully offered, "at least we once were."  She could not hide the
sorrow she felt at the distance that had grown between herself and the
doctor, not even from Margaret.  They had not spoken once since that day
in front of the schoolhouse.   At the moment she had given David back the
ring box, she had heard him spur Charlie back home, the horse’s hooves
thundering into the distance. 


        Margaret’s eyes flashed as she sneered,  "So he’s finally spit you out,
has he?  I told you before he’d eat you alive."


        Her heart sinking, Christy discovered she almost believed Margaret’s
assessment.  Neil had shut her out.  Foolishly, Christy had thought he
would confide in her about Margaret when she vanished once again, but he
had not.  Attempts to talk with him at his cabin had proved fruitless. 
He’d either managed not to be home or had shut himself in his laboratory,
refusing to talk.  Yet, she could understand his desire to be alone,
feeling much the same herself, lately.  Finally, she suggested, "He’s no
doubt been busy with his research or patients."


        Margaret scoffed, "Of course.  The great doctor always has something
better to do than spend time with his friends. . .or his wife.  But, by
the look on your face, I’d say there’s a bit more to it than that, or are
you still denying you have feelings for my husband?"


        "I. . .my feelings for Dr. MacNeill. .  .he’s important to me, yes, but
it hasn’t gone beyond that."


        "Oh stop lying to yourself.  You may look like an innocent little
schoolmarm, but you’ve got eyes and a woman’s heart just like the rest of
us. We both know he’s irresistible."


        Blushing, Christy recalled the times when Neil’s charm and good looks
had indeed distracted her—so much so she had once burned a chicken she
was preparing for his dinner.


        Margaret continued, spurred on by Christy’s reaction.  "You should know
by now he’s only got time for these wretches he calls his people. 
Remember when you told me he was worth fighting for?  Well, I tried that
and look where it got me. . .crawling over mountains like a crazy woman
trying to create some meaning out of all this.  He’s not worth it,
Christy, and never will be."


        "You’re wrong, Margaret.  Neil is worth fighting for, or hadn’t you
noticed he’s more than just irresistible.  It takes a man of great
character to be doctor to these people.  It takes strength, devotion,
intelligence, and love.  Neil is capable of so much. . .if he only had
someone who believed in him. . . ."  


        "You mean, if he could only get rid of me.  I suppose you intend to jump
right in and believe in him once I’m gone.  Go right ahead, Christy.  See
if I care.  You’re welcome to spend the rest of your life alone in that
cabin talking to the walls.  You’re a fool if you think things would be
any different."


        Suddenly, Margaret fell to her knees, coughing so hard her entire body
shook from its force.  Leaping to her side, Christy held her until the
coughing subsided, former anger and confusion melting with her desire to
help the obviously sick woman.  Feeling Margaret slump against, her,
Christy knew she had to get Margaret to Neil’s.   She thanked God the
path she had taken would lead her to him.  She just prayed he’d be home
to treat his. . .his wife.


        Christy bore much of Margaret’s weight on her shoulders.  The weakened
woman leaned heavily against her, her left arm draped over Christy’s
shoulders, while Christy’s right arm held her around the waist.  Somehow
she found the strength to guide Margaret the rest of the way down the
path, stopping to rest only once.  She feared for Margaret and wasting
too much time resting was unthinkable to Christy.  She prayed all the
while for strength, sometimes aloud, and sometimes silently, not even
considering the effect this would have on Margaret.  After seeming to
bear this quietly, Margaret eventually hissed, "You’re just like Mother,
always praying.  Haven’t you realized by now God’s not listening?  Why
would you be out here in the middle of the night helping me if He was?"


        Christy calmly replied, "It is exactly because He listens and cares that
I am here with you, Margaret."


        Seemingly silenced by this, Margaret did not reply at first.  After they
had traveled a bit farther, she breathlessly responded, "I would have
rather died.  .  .at least before. . .but now I’m not sure.  You’re
always so kind to me.  Why do you bother?"


        Christy smiled, a wave of compassion washing over her for Margaret. 
"God loves you, Margaret.  He’s been waiting for you to accept the gift
of His love all your life.  It’s not me that’s kind—it’s God working
through me."


Christy soon saw the black outline of a cabin come into view on the rise.
 A thin trail of smoke rose into the moonlit sky and her heart leapt,
realizing Neil must be at home.


        "We’re almost to Dr. MacNeill’s, Margaret.  Just a bit farther and he’ll
be able to take care of you,"  Christy exclaimed with more eagerness than
she actually felt.  As she drew nearer to the home of the doctor, a
growing anxiety filled her.  What would she say to this man that had
nearly become a stranger to her, this man that had such power over her
heart?  
        In the pale light of the moon, the two approached the rear of the cabin
and almost continued on to the front entrance, when Margaret gasped. 

 
        "What is it?"  But the words had barely escaped Christy’s lips before
she saw what had startled Margaret.  The ground beneath their feet was
crisp and blackened as if from fire, and they could barely make out the
pile of rubbish that still faintly glowed red, the embers slowly
devouring the remainder of whatever the doctor had been busily burning.  
She wondered that she hadn’t noticed the acrid smell of the smoke before.


 The fire had evidently gotten away from him and traveled across the
ground to the smokehouse.  Its outline could barely be seen, though some
of the building appeared to remain standing.  Christy looked again at the
cabin, searching for signs of damage, but she could discern nothing
different about the building.  "It’s all right.  I don’t think the
cabin’s damaged.  Come on."


        "You don’t understand.  This was my place."


        "What do you mean?  You and Neil lived here.  I know that. . ."
        "It was mine. . ."


        Thinking Margaret perhaps had a fever, Christy urged her to continue
around the cabin to the steps of the porch.  She called out when she
began helping Margaret up the stairs, hoping the doctor would come
quickly and help her the rest of the way.  "Dr. MacNeill!  Are you home,
Neil?  Please help!"


        When he failed to appear, Christy worried.  Margaret had nearly fainted
a moment before and Christy felt her own body losing strength.  Inside
the cabin was dark, so Christy was forced to lay Margaret on the floor
while she searched for matches and a lamp.  She recalled another night
that she’d fumbled about in the dark on a similar quest to save someone’s
life.  The fact that it had been Miss Alice, Margaret’s mother, that time
was not lost on Christy.   But Christy had known what to look for that
time, known what would cure Miss Alice.  How would she be able to help
Margaret?  She needed care only her husband could give.  By the time
Christy succeeded in lighting a lamp and returned to Margaret, the woman
had lost consciousness.  Christy fought back tears of exhaustion, as she
realized she hadn’t the strength to move Margaret to the bed upstairs
where she belonged.  Instead, she grasped her under her arms and dragged
her over to the couch, managing somehow to lift her onto the cushions. 
Covering Margaret with a quilt, Christy knelt to start a fire, her
fingers trembling as the tears finally began to flow.

                                * * *
        Astride Charlie, Neil fought the urge to close his eyes and doze the
rest of the way home.  His horse knew the way, but he didn’t want to risk
hitting his head on a low branch.  "Only half a mile or so, then you can
sleep," he spoke aloud hoping the sound would encourage wakefulness.  It
had been quite a day.  First his fire had gotten out of control and he’d
feared the stable would be lost.  Instead the wind shifted.  He’d have to
repair the smokehouse, but at least the cabin had not been touched.  He
cursed his foolishness once again.   He knew such a big fire was a risk
but he’d kept it stoked anyway, eager to burn away the memories of
Margaret and Christy.  He’d been called away to assist in a complicated
birth soon after he’d managed to control the fire, but he half wondered
if he’d discover his cabin reduced to ruins when he returned anyway.  But
his heart was heavy with his decision to let Christy go.  A burnt cabin
would hardly matter to him now.


        With less determination than before, he forced himself to push thoughts
of Christy to the back of his mind.  He’d released her finally, or so he
thought, so why did she keep entering his thoughts?  He knew at that
moment that he would never truly let her go until he saw her again and
told her. . .he must tell her, somehow, that things would never be the
same between them, could never be.


        After tending to Charlie, he climbed the steps of his cabin, glad
finally to be home and so near the warmth of his bed.  Opening the front
door with a heavy sigh, his heart jumped at the sight before him.
"Christy!" He hoarsely exclaimed.  Christy was kneeling on the floor
facing the fireplace.  She turned to him, her face streaming with tears. 
A small pile of broken matches lay at the hem of her skirt as she held
another match, ready to attempt to start the elusive fire once again.  At
the sight of him, her tears loosened into sobs and she dropped the match
she held to the floor.   Immediately, he propelled himself across the
floor to her side and knelt to enfold her in his arms.  "Christy. .
.Christy. . .Christy. . ."  He chanted her name and held her fiercely. 
He was overcome by her presence and felt his earlier resolve vanishing as
he held her trembling body against his chest.


        Then, his eye caught a glimpse of a long bundle on his sofa.  He raised
his head to get a better look and froze in position.  "Margaret!"  It was
almost a question, but Neil knew from the mass of dark hair that it must
be his wife.  After a moment, he lowered his gaze to Christy who had
disengaged herself from his arms.  He knew he should run to his wife’s
side, but somehow he was pulled back to the woman who, eyes pooled with
tears, looked up at him now.  He grasped her shoulders, a question in his
eyes.  Were these tears because Margaret was dead?  Was he too late to
treat his wife?  Panic rose within him as he considered the possibility.


        "Christy, what happened?  You must tell me."


        Fighting for control over her tears, Christy managed only a few halting
words.  "Margaret. . .sick in the woods. . .about a mile behind your
cabin."


        "How did you manage . . ."


        "She’s been wandering around the cove for days.  I’m afraid for her,
Neil."


        Released as if from a spell, Neil sprung into action.  He moved quickly
to Margaret’s side and blanched at the sight of her.  She had grown much
thinner and paler than when he had last seen her barely a month ago.  She
wasn’t moving and he again worried that she might be gone.  Listening for
breath and checking her pulse, he was relieved to find signs of life
still in her, though incredibly faint.   Content that she was in no
immediate danger, he moved to start the fire Christy had been attempting,
knowing warmth was essential for them all to get through the chill of the
November night.





Chapter Three
        
        Christy dozed in the rocker, her sleep fitful.   Sounds of wind and rain
mingled with the images of her dreams so that she was unsure when she
dreamt and when she was aware of the room about her.  She’d placed the
rocker close to the fire and didn’t bother moving when the heat made her
feet and legs uncomfortable.  It seemed so cold farther away.  She
shivered when a gust slapped tree branches against the roof.  Neil had
carried Margaret to his bedroom hours ago and must have remained by the
woman’s side.  He was with his wife and Christy knew it was his rightful
place.  Knowing this did not make her rest more deeply.  If only she
could gather the strength to walk back to the mission.  The storm made it
nearly impossible to think of attempting the trek, but Miss Alice would
want to know about her daughter.  Christy also longed for her own bed.  A
bed far from Neil.  Margaret’s words kept invading her thoughts, her
weary mind unable to fight them back.  ‘He’s finally spit you out. . .eat
you alive. . .no woman. . .Not even you, Christy.  Not even you.’ 
Christy shook her head as if to erase the constant working of her mind. 
‘Just think of nothing, blackness, a dark pool of water.’  Christy
focused on the image and soon fell into a deeper slumber.

                                * * *
        He could do nothing more for her, but Neil MacNeill racked his brain for
some treatment, some method he could try to heal the woman lying so still
on his bed. . .their bed once.  He slumped over onto the edge of the bed,
his head in his hands, as his talent and knowledge again confronted the
unforgiving hand of death.  He thought tears would come, but he felt numb
instead.  As much as he loved his work, the doctor’s confidence had taken
one shattering blow after another.  He had become a doctor to save people
he loved; yet, his powers were so finite that he often wondered if his
efforts really made any difference at all.  Only the constant demands on
his time kept him from sinking into despair. . .that and the small,
nagging feeling deep within that was the source of his desire to heal. 
It gave him the smallest measure of hope.  


        Yet, Christy seemed to believe in him, too, perhaps more than any other
person had in his life.  He didn’t deserve her admiration and he’d done
plenty to discourage it, but still she insisted on offering encouragement
when he doubted.  Christy had always been like a beacon of hope and he
wanted to push her away.  He had pushed her away.  How could he continue
to do so when she was an ever present source of strength?  How could he
live without her in his life?  Neil sighed heavily and rose from the
hardback chair he’d been sitting on for what seemed like hours.  His
joints seemed locked in position and he had to stretch his legs and arms
to release the tension.  He looked again at his wife, wanting to check
one last time to see if there was any improvement, though he knew the
truth without looking.  Only the faint movement of her lower lip as she
breathed indicated life still had a hold on her.  But death had a
stronger grip and Neil knew she would not survive this latest attack on
her body.


        As he stepped from the bottom of the stairs, Neil saw Christy sleeping
in front of the fire in his Grandmother’s rocking chair.  His throat
tightened as he realized he’d nearly forgotten she was still here.  He’d
done nothing to ease her tears but instead had been completely focused on
Margaret.  Running his hand through his hair, Neil cursed his negligence.
 He felt as if he had betrayed Christy.  He walked toward her softly, not
wanting to wake her.  An auburn strand of hair fell across her cheek. 
Tenderness welled up in him at the sight of her, so peaceful, sleeping
here in his home.  So right.  He noticed the handkerchief crumpled in her
hand, the fingers retaining a loose grip on the cloth.  Neil wondered if
she had cried herself to sleep.  Hesitantly, he moved his hand to brush
the lock of hair away from her face, his fingertips gently brushing
against the softness of her cheek.  "Christy," he whispered, "I’m so
sorry, lass."  He watched her breathe another moment and then bent to
gather her into his arms.  Christy stirred in her sleep and instinctively
nestled her head just above his heart, one hand lightly touching the
hollow of his chest.  Neil’s breath caught in his throat at her response.
 A fierce desire to always protect the woman in his arms washed over him,
and his muscles tensed in a shiver.  Afraid he might awaken her, Neil
reluctantly carried Christy over to the sofa.  After laying her gently
onto the cushions, he went quickly in search of more quilts and pillows. 
Returning, he wrapped her in his mother’s favorite quilt.  


        Outside, hard rain mixed with sleet pelted against the roof.  Wind
whistled through the pines.  Banking the fire for the night, he lay down
on the floor below Christy, covering himself in another quilt.  He would
sleep lightly and return to check on Margaret in the night, but Neil had
reached the limits of his abilities.  Neil hoped Margaret would hold on
until Miss Alice could come.  The storm made sending for Alice
impossible, especially in the dark of night.  Deep in his heart, he knew
he had to leave his wife in God’s hands.


                                * * *

        Already the autumn day showed signs of being sunny and a bit warmer than
the previous night.  Christy breathed deeply the freshness of the
mountain air after a storm.  The sun broke through a few remaining clouds
and began to climb higher into a clear, blue sky, burning away fog in
open areas.   Unaccustomed to riding Charlie alone, Christy was thankful
the horse was mild mannered and seemingly unconcerned about the identity
of his rider.  She’d improved her skills on horseback, but knew she would
never be an accomplished rider without more practice.  She urged him into
a gallop, intent on reaching the mission quickly.  Neil had instructed
her to ride sensibly, but the worried look in his eyes told her to hurry.
 Neil had explained that Margaret may not live through the day, that she
had likely been fighting pneumonia while hiking Cutter Gap.  Coupled with
her weakened state after her bout with tuberculosis, Margaret’s immune
system was no match for a further onslaught of sickness.  


        The mission house soon appeared in Christy’s line of sight and she
pushed Charlie onward to the front steps.  Alighting from her mount,
Christy ran up the steps and went inside, hoping to catch everyone at
breakfast.  Instead, she found Ruby Mae sitting at the table alone,
sobbing.


        "Ruby Mae, what’s wrong?  Where’s Miss Alice and David?"  It dawned on
her while she spoke that perhaps they had been out looking for her all
night long.


        "Oh, Miz Christy!"  The young woman sprang from her chair and ran to
embrace her teacher.  "We thought you was dead.  But Miss Alice went out
lookin’ for ye afore the storm and at day bust.  She didn’t believe David
one minute.  And he run off to some place this mornin’ not tellin’ us
where.  She’s goin’ to Doc’s jest now to check if he’s seen ya.  By the
by, isn’t that Doc MacNeill’s horse?"  The girl peered curiously out the
window at Charlie.


        "Ruby Mae,"  Christy interrupted the excited girl, "I don’t understand. 
What did David say about me that Miss Alice didn’t believe?" 

 
        Ruby Mae colored.  "Oh no, Miz Christy.  I ain’t a tellin’.  It’s awful
mean what he said.  I didn’t believe ‘im none neither.  But you didn’t
show up and I was a worryin’ somethin’ awful."


        "Please, you must tell me.  I promise you won’t get into trouble."  


        Ruby Mae looked skeptical, but soon decided her teacher meant what she
said.  "He said you prob’ly went off with Doc MacNeill somewhere’s seein’
how you’re in love with ‘im and all.  I shore think that’s a strange
thing for ‘im to think.  ‘Specially seein’ as he was the one courtin’ you
and the doc beein’ married an all.  He was shore angry at you, Miz
Christy, sayin’ you and the doc’d die in the storm fer all he cared. 
Never did hear no preacher sayin’ such awful things about a person.  I
reckon he had his reasons, but thought it right mean just the same.  Miz
Alice told ‘im weren’t Christian-like an all, but I don’t think he minded
none.  Jest walked off to his bunkhouse and left us gawkin’ after ‘im."


        Christy was startled by Ruby Mae’s account of David.  What on earth had
happened to him to make him so hateful?  Was it all because she wouldn’t
marry him?  Christy sighed wearily, thankful that she had indeed refused
the Preacher’s offer of marriage.  But that didn’t solve the situation at
hand.  Remembering the reason for her journey, she went to the kitchen to
gather some food into a basket.  She would return to Neil’s cabin and
make sure the inhabitants had something to eat.  She knew for a fact that
neither Neil nor she had thought about breakfast.  She would just have to
deal with David later.


        "Ruby Mae, I’m going to Dr. MacNeill’s.  If David returns, tell him that
Margaret is sick and at the Doctor’s cabin, all right?  And if Miss Alice
returns and you discover she hasn’t gone to Dr. MacNeill’s, you tell her
it’s an emergency and she must come."  Grasping the girl’s shoulders, she
looked her in the eyes, enforcing the seriousness of the situation.  "Can
you do this for me?"


        "Yes’um.  I shorely can."  Ruby Mae nodded vigorously, nearly dumbstruck
by the news of the return of Neil’s ghost wife.  She longed to go share
the gossip with Lizette or Bessie, but knew her place was at the mission.
 This juicy tidbit would have to wait.



                                * * *


        A stew simmered on the stove and a loaf of baking bread filled the cabin
with a wonderful aroma.  Again Christy found herself waiting by the fire
while Neil and Alice kept vigil in the bedroom.  This time she was
grateful for the time alone to be with her thoughts.  What had happened
to David?  Was she to blame?  What of Miss Alice?  If Margaret did die,
how would she cope?  As for Neil, his reaction to his wife’s return to
the cove after allowing him to believe her dead for so many years had
been volatile.  She feared it would tear him apart to lose his wife
again, no matter how many times he had told Christy he didn’t love her
anymore, that it was over between them.  Dear Neil.  She could not fathom
the pain he must be feeling right now watching his wife slip away.  How
could she help the people she loved when she felt so helpless?


        Her mind had been occupied with the immediacy of the crisis at hand, but
she remembered that it was just yesterday when she had opened up to Miss
Alice about her feelings toward Neil.  So much had happened since then
that the conversation seemed to have happened long ago, its urgency lost.
 Everything changes.  Would her heart?  Cradling a cup of hot herbal tea,
Christy stared thoughtfully into the flames.  ‘Wait on Me.’  The words
seemed to come deep within her, and though barely a whisper, seemed
insistent on her hearing.  She wasn’t sure she’d ever truly heard the
voice of God before, though His love had sometimes been palpable.  Was
this His Spirit within her speaking?  ‘Wait.’  Yes, Lord, she said
silently to the voice within.  I’m listening.  Watching the fire slowed
the speed of her thoughts and allowed her spirit room to hear.  Somehow
Christy knew the simple phrase meant all would be well.  She needed only
to await the will of the Lord in her life.  He would never forsake her.

  
        Heavy steps charging up the porch and the front door abruptly opening
startled Christy out of her quiet moment by the fire.  She stood and
faced the door, only to find David standing in the doorway, staring at
her and breathing hard.  His hand gripped the frame and she could see the
whites of his knuckles.  Christy’s instinct was to run from him, but her
strength of will took over and she told her trembling body to hold its
ground and face him.


        "David, what are. . ." she began.


        "What do you think you are doing here, Christy?  Pretending to make
house with a godless man who’s already married?  You should be ashamed of
yourself!"  David raged, jabbing one finger in her direction all the
while.


        "David, do you have any idea what is going on here?  Margaret may be
dying at this very moment and you come here expecting to see me wallowing
in sin.  Honestly, David, I don’t know who you are anymore."


        David rejoined defensively, "I know very well what is going on.  The
person that shouldn’t have anything to do with it is you. This is
MacNeill’s problem, not yours."


        "Have you forgotten that Margaret is Miss Alice’s daughter?  I’m here as
much for her as I am for Dr. MacNeill.  If you hadn’t lost all capacity
for human compassion, David, you would realize that my being here is
exactly the right thing, regardless of how it may seem to you."


        "Christy, I. . ." David began in a pleading tone, beginning to see that
the argument was not producing his intended results.


        "No David.  You need to listen to me, now.  For weeks you’ve been angry,
inconsiderate, and selfish.  Personally, I’m beginning to wonder if my
refusing to marry you really is the whole of the matter.  If it is, then
I’m telling you right now that your actions in the past weeks have done
nothing but reinforce my decision.  I don’t know who you are these days,
but I can’t forget the sweet man I once knew.  I want him back, and I
want to help you, but I can’t if you won’t let anyone else in.  Let me
help you, David.  Let go of whatever it is that’s hurting you so deeply,"
Christy implored.  


        The shadow in David’s eyes flickered for a moment as if he wanted to
disclose his troubles to the woman he had once proposed to, but anger had
a strong grip on his heart and the barriers rose again almost before they
began to fall.  "As your Preacher, Christy, I strongly suggest that you
leave this matter to the MacNeills and come back to the mission with me
where you belong.  There is nothing for you here.  If you refuse, I will
have to submit the letter I’ve written to Dr. Ferrand regarding your
conduct.  He will decide whether or not you should continue teaching
these children what is right or wrong when you don’t seem to know
yourself."


        All breath left Christy’s body.  A whirlwind of emotion battled for
dominance.  Disbelief, anger, frustration, and shock passed over her like
waves.  Finally her lungs demanded she breathe and she inhaled sharply. 
"Do what you must, David.  I know. . . I am not above reproach, but I
believe showing love to others is more important than appearances.  I
thought you believed that, too.  I see I was wrong."


        David began to turn and stalk out the door but remained locked in
Christy’s indignant gaze.  He could see she was trembling, struggling to
hold back whatever words or tears waited to rush out.  She was beautiful
when she was angry.  Beautiful when she was happy or sad.  At that moment
he regretted ever allowing things to go this far, but David felt it was
too late to back down.  Christy would never forgive him after all the
hateful things he had done.  She would never understand what truly
troubled his heart. Never.



                                * * *


        Running a trembling hand through his hair, Neil watched helplessly as
Alice wept over the still form of her daughter.  Margaret had never
awakened but for brief, delirious moments.  He knew Alice’s pain echoed
his own.  Neither of them had been able to make their peace with Margaret
before she left the world.  Neither of them had had a chance to tell her
she had been loved. . . was loved.  Alice was praying silently now over
her daughter, one hand touching her head, the other raised heavenward. 
Suddenly self-conscious, Neil moved to pack up his instruments, needing
to do something with his hands.  He held his stethoscope in midair when
Alice’s voice rose.


        "And Lord, I raise up Neil in his time of grief that he may experience
Thy Light in his life.  Show him Thou art the Author of Life and Death. 
Reveal to him Thy love, and show him he also has an amazing capacity to
love.  Teach him to accept Thy gift of comfort and Thy love.  In Jesus
name, Amen."


        Neil couldn’t explain why her prayer seemed to lodge in his heart and
send out waves of warmth throughout his body.  He felt as if he were
being embraced from the inside out.  Feeling unsteady, Neil dropped the
stethoscope in the leather bag and turned toward Alice.  She had stood up
and was looking at him warmly through shining eyes.  


        Loud talking downstairs finally registered in his ears and he looked at
Alice questioningly.  "Perhaps we should go see who has come to visit and
tell Christy about. . .about Margaret."  He was worried about the level
of the voices raised below.


        Alice bent to kiss her daughter on the cheek one last time and they left
the room, closing the door behind them.  By the time they descended the
stairs, Neil and Alice heard only the last of Christy’s side of the
conversation before a heavy silence filled the cabin.  Neil saw David and
Christy staring at each other.  Both were breathing heavily and he
wondered at the dark look in David’s eyes.  What had Christy meant by
saying David should do what he must and she not being above reproach? 
Surely David wasn’t questioning her honor.  Neil stiffened at the
thought.  Of what was David accusing Christy?  Neil nearly forgot his
personal rule to never inflict harm on another human being, but the look
in Christy’s eyes as she took notice of himself and Alice eased the
annoyance he felt toward David.  Love and concern filled those big blue
eyes.  Neil marveled that she could forget whatever had just upset her so
quickly.


        "Christy, David, what’s going on here?"  He inquired, trying to keep his
tone civil.


        David remained silent but shifted about nervously.  Christy glanced at
David before answering.  "It’s nothing.  Just something we needed to
discuss.  What matters is you and Miss Alice.  How’s Margaret?"


        Neil saw that Christy knew immediately that Margaret was dead simply by
looking at his and Alice’s expression at her query, so he remained
silent.  At the mention of his wife’s name, it finally hit him that she
was gone and he no longer trusted his voice.


        Christy crossed the room and gathered Miss Alice into an embrace, the
older woman suddenly overcome with grief.  Alice kept saying over and
over, "She’s gone. . . she’s gone. . .she’s gone."  Christy drew her
close and began speaking in soothing tones.  "It’s all right.  She’s at
peace.  Jesus loves you, Miss Alice.  Jesus loves you."


        Christy was looking at him while she spoke.   Her eyes shone with
compassion.  Christy’s faith in God was deeply important to her, Neil
realized.  He had known this intellectually, but now. . . .  Neil cast
his eyes to the floor and searched the worn boards as he pondered the
meaning of his discovery.  He could never ask her to be with a man who
lacked something in his life that was so vital in hers.  Suddenly it
dawned on him how inappropriate his thoughts were.  Did the memory of his
wife mean nothing?  Neil cursed himself inwardly for thinking such
thoughts moments after her death.  


        Christy spoke after a while, slowly disengaging herself from Alice when
the woman’s tears had eased.  "I need to check on the bread.  It wouldn’t
do to have a burnt loaf on our hands, now would it."  She glanced at Neil
with a twinkle in her eye.


        Neil’s surprise at Christy’s composure heightened, and he chuckled
softly at her reference. "Aye, but as you know, Miss Huddleston, the
dangers of undercooked food are far more pronounced." 


        David cleared his throat and stepped forward hesitantly.  "I just wanted
to say I’m sorry for your loss.  I hope if there’s. . .anything I can,
well, do that you will just let me know.  Uh...so I really must be going
then."  With that David turned and walked out the door, quickly shutting
it, leaving three stunned people staring after him inside.



Chapter Four

        Though outwardly life in Cutter Gap returned to normal, Christy knew
lives had changed significantly in the six weeks that had gone by since
Margaret’s funeral.  The entire cove had appeared for the ceremony,
somehow needing to see for themselves that Dr. MacNeill’s wife was indeed
dead this time.  Though the cove people had managed to keep talk of
Neil’s wife among themselves through the years out of respect for the
doctor, she had come to embody yet another dark superstition in their
belief system.  Christy didn’t know the full story, but she gathered that
Margaret was likened to some kind of spirit creature that cast a spell on
Neil to coerce him to marry her.  They explained her disappearances by
suggesting she was unable to retain her human form very long without
perishing, thus her eventual death.  Others believed she had tried to
take Neil away to her spirit world, but when he resisted, she left.  When
she returned, she had apparently intended to use her renewed powers of
persuasion to lure him away from Cutter Gap but she had died trying. 
This version cast Neil as an even greater hero since it proved him
powerful enough to conquer forces of darkness.  Christy shook her head at
such foolishness, but couldn’t shake the truth buried within the tale. 
>From what little she knew of Margaret and Neil’s courtship, she had
indeed charmed him into marriage.  And she certainly had been a restless
spirit.  Christy prayed Margaret had at last found her peace.  Sitting
beside the pond, heedless of the cold, hard ground beneath her, Christy
prayed for peace for all of them.


        Foremost in her mind were those closest to her, including Neil, Miss
Alice, and David.  Neil had chosen to isolate himself in his grief, and
as much as she longed to help him, she knew the man needed space to mourn
his own way.  Miss Alice, on the other hand, immersed herself in her
missionary duties, but had not become too withdrawn in her mourning. 
Christy was amazed at her resiliency, noting that Miss Alice had talked
with her several times about Margaret since her death in a positive
light.  It seemed she had found peace despite the pain she surely felt. 
As for David, she’d heard nothing more from him about the letter he had
supposedly written to Dr. Ferrand, and she hoped he had decided against
sending it.  It didn’t take much for her to imagine what it would feel
like to lose the job she so loved.  The lie one of her students had told
had nearly forced her to resign her position once before.  She suspected
David had merely been angry and had written no such letter, but she could
not discount the possibility.  She decided the timing wasn’t right to
question him on the matter as he had recently regained a more caring
attitude.  She hoped this was his way of saying their misunderstanding
was dropped, so she fought against her own need to hear a formal apology
or at least an explanation.


        Her thoughts returned to Neil.  Would she someday be able to tell him
what she held in her heart or would she, as David seemed to be doing,
choose to forget the past and press on as if nothing had changed?  With
Neil newly single, fear gripped her.  What did she really know about love
anyway?  Her experience with David revealed her inexperience in matters
of the heart.  Perhaps her feelings for Neil weren’t genuine either. 
Perhaps Neil didn’t feel the same about her.  Could she have misread his
tenderness, his willingness to confide in her, and the way he sometimes
looked at her as love when he only felt friendship toward her?  Miss
Alice’s words came back to her then. ‘Do not be ashamed of the love thee
feels.  Let it be a blessing, instead.  And wait on the Lord. . .who will
fulfill thy deepest dreams in His perfect timing.’  Why did she always
struggle with impatience and now fear?  "Oh Lord, please give me patience
and strength to conquer this fear.  Help me to understand why I feel this
way toward Neil and what Your plans are for us."  Christy spoke her
prayer aloud, unaware David Grantland watched her silently from behind
the rushes, his jaw locked like stone.  



                                * * *


        "Ruby Mae, kindly fetch Miss Huddleston a cup of tea.  She’s looking a
bit chilled from her walk outside."  Miss Alice looked Christy in the eye
as she spoke, searching for an explanation.  


        "I guess I just lost track of time. . .and it was nice this afternoon," 
Christy offered lamely.


        Miss Alice was not dissuaded.  "I am worried about thee, Christy, and I
do not believe my worry is unfounded, either, lest you protest.  What
thee needs is a good hot meal and a restful night’s sleep, two things I
fear thee has been getting very little of lately."


        "I’d rather not talk about it right now, Miss Alice.  I’ve just been
restless.  I wish I knew how not to be, but I am."


        "Has thee spoken to Neil about this?  I believe he might have the remedy
thee requires for obtaining restful sleep."  Alice grinned knowingly.


        Christy stared at Miss Alice.  "I don’t think he can help," she
muttered, unwilling to see the humor in the situation.


        "Christy, I suggest thee try my suggestion anyway.  I wouldn’t be
surprised if it wouldn’t be a step in the right direction."  Miss Alice
turned and walked back to the kitchen to help with supper, leaving
Christy to wonder at her mentor’s advice.


        Ruby Mae returned with a cup of tea and held it toward her teacher. 
"Here ye are, Miz Christy.  I made it nice and strong."

        "Thank you, Ruby Mae.  You were kind to make me tea."  Christy looked at
the nearly black tea and mentally prepared herself for the strong taste
as she took a sip. 


        "I couldn’t help but hear Miz Alice tell ye to go see the doc.  Are ye
feelin’ all right, Miz Christy?  Ya been awful quiet lately and I been
noticin’ you ain’t been eatin’ my possum surprise like ya use to.  If you
was to get sick. . ."


        "Ruby Mae, I’m not sick.  But thank you for your concern.  I’m just
preoccupied, that’s all."  Christy did her best to assure her student,
but found herself unconvinced by her own explanation.  She turned to go
upstairs and prepare the next day’s lessons, forgetting it was nearly
supper time.


        She buried herself in her books the rest of the evening, sending Ruby
Mae away when she had come to fetch her for dinner.  She’d told herself
it wouldn’t do to interrupt the flow of her work and managed to ignore
the emptiness in her stomach.  She’d used teaching as an excuse for many
weeks and wasn’t about to release the haven it provided.  Hours later she
looked outside to see the moon high in the sky.  Her stomach growled in
protest at her neglect.  Deciding to get a piece of bread and walk out
under the stars before bed, Christy bundled up and headed downstairs on
tiptoe, not wanting to wake the others.  She found a biscuit left from
the evening’s meal and spread it generously with apple butter.  Stepping
out into the chilly air, Christy breathed deeply.  Her head foggy from
spending so many hours studying, she felt unsteady on her feet.  Even
standing still, she wavered.  Perhaps the walk outside would eventually
clear her head.  


        As she stood on the dock, looking at the reflection of the moon on the
water, she realized it had been a long time since she had stood by the
river with Neil.  The shimmer of light on the still water allowed her to
recall the moment without having to go too near the man that unsettled
her spirit.  The day he had taught her to fish in his river she had felt
so comfortable with him.  She had trusted him with the pain in her heart,
had known instinctively that he cared.  Why couldn’t she face him, now,
when they were both free?  Yet, she longed to see Neil with all of her
being.  She shook her head at her indecision.  "This is not like you,
Christy Huddleston," she admonished herself aloud.  "This is not like
you, at all."  Standing in front of the pond she conjured an image of a
rugged mountain man, golden-red curls always tousled about his head, blue
eyes that seemed to scan her very soul, and strong arms she longed to
feel embrace her.  A deep, lyrical voice startled her out of her reverie.


        "Well, Miss Huddleston, do you suppose we are destined to always meet by
the water under a full moon?"  Neil stepped up from behind Christy and
stood beside her.  


        She whirled toward him in surprise.  Locked in his gaze, she found
herself unable to reply.  Suddenly here was the very man of her daydream
standing very close to her.  With each breath she inhaled his masculine
scent, accented with the smells of pipe smoke, lye, and, tonight, the
faint smell of ether.  He’d been operating somewhere, Christy realized,
and was probably on his way back home.  The knowledge steadied her enough
to enter the conversation at last.  "Well, Dr. MacNeill, whatever surgery
you just performed must have altered your judgment.  I seem to recall
looking at the moon just a moment ago and it was quite clearly only in
its third quarter.  Perhaps you need glasses."


        Chuckling, Neil responded, "You never cease to amaze me, Miss
Huddleston.  How did you know I just performed surgery?" 


        "Um, it. . .it’s your smell."  Christy’s face grew warm and she looked
away.


        "Ah, so you’re telling me I need a bath. . . and quickly by the look of
your nose.  It’s wrinkling again, you know.  Perhaps I should oblige you
right now and jump into the water."  Neil teased.  He began to take off
his coat as if he intended to do just that.


        "Oh no, Dr. MacNeill!  Don’t. . .I mean. . .I didn’t mean you smelled. 
I just. . ."


        Neil grinned and settled the coat back over his shoulders.  "You just. .
."


        ". . .could smell the ether,"  she finished hastily.


        "Aye.  It’s potent, though I should think most would have been washed
away.  But I haven’t forgotten you have a wonderful sense of smell." 
Neil chuckled softly.  "You aren’t going to faint away because of it?


        "No, Doctor.  I don’t think I would faint because of that.  I do recall
being able to stand by you during the surgery you performed on Little
Burl."


        Neil looked at her searchingly, his face almost instantly serious. 
"Christy, the light’s poor out here, I know, but I can’t help but see
that you look tired.  You should be in bed.  Why don’t I walk you
inside."  Neil lightly gripped her arms, keeping their gaze locked.


        Christy wanted to break free from his scrutiny and stay outside under
the moon with him at the same time.   "I’m fine, really.  I planned on
turning in soon, anyway."  She began to feel lightheaded again but
thought it was just Neil’s closeness.  "I just needed to come outside and
stretch my legs and think.  I spent all evening preparing lessons for
tomorrow."


        "What were you thinking of, Christy?"  Neil’s brogue, soft and thick,
soothed away some of Christy’s anxiety.


        "I. . .I was thinking I haven’t been myself lately.  And I was trying to
find the answer to something that’s been troubling me."  Christy began to
tremble, realizing how close she was coming to telling Neil the truth.
        "Did you find the answer?" Neil probed.


        "I’m. . .not sure I’m ready for it."  She admitted.


        Neil’s hands released their grip and he stepped away from her.  He
stared up at the moon and then looked back at her, his eyes dark and
shining.  "I discovered something about you not too long ago, Christy,
that’s just come back to me now.  You’re not unlike that moon shining
down on us tonight, reflecting the sun.  Your eyes do the same with an
inner light I cannot fathom."  


        Christy’s heart filled with tenderness for Neil.  Believing he was
trying to understand her faith, her spirit soared.  She took a step
closer to him and prayed for the words for a reply.  "It’s God, Neil," 
she finally said.  "Faith in a loving and gracious God allows me to look
at the world, at people, in ways I wouldn’t be able to on my own."  


        "I know your faith is important to you Christy.  That’s why. . .that’s
where we’ve battled so many times.  I just cannot see the world the same
way.  I see beauty, but I see it marred by hatred, and disease, and
wasted lives.  How can I believe in a God that allows so much pain?"


        "I see those things too, Neil.  Faith just opens my eyes to even the
tiniest glimmer of light.   It makes the smallest of triumphs worthwhile.
 It’s like having eyes that are able to see beyond an uncaring world to
what God first intended.  There is so much life and light, so much of
God, everywhere I look.  Everyday I’m amazed by how good He is to allow
me to see the world through His eyes, even if it is only in brief
glimpses.


        "I wish I could see the world that way, but maybe I’m just too old and
stuck in my hillbilly ways."


        "No, Neil.  Don’t give up on yourself.  Just find beauty and hold onto
it, tightly.  Before long, it will be easier to focus on joy.  Easier to
understand how much God loves you and how much he wants to be a part of
your life."


        Neil moved toward her and took her gloved hands in his.  "I’ll do my
best, Miss Huddleston.  Perhaps there’ll be a test the next time we
meet?"


        Neil’s mouth smiled at her, but his eyes searched Christy’s.  Christy’s
heart beat furiously in her chest as the pressure of his hands enfolding
hers sent shock waves through her body.  She wondered that he didn’t seem
to feel it.  "I’ll see if I can fit you in my lesson plans, then, Dr.
MacNeill."  Christy suddenly needed to follow his return to their formal
names.


        Almost abruptly, he turned away and walked toward his horse.  Looking
over his shoulder while he walked, he said, "Get some rest, Miss
Huddleston.  I wouldn’t want to miss our next midnight meeting because
you’re sick in bed."


        She nodded to him and, saying goodnight, began to walk toward the
mission.  The ground began moving under her and the house tilted.  She
turned her head to locate Neil but saw his blurred image moving away from
her toward his horse, too far away.  "Neil. . ."  She managed to weakly
call his name before darkness overcame her and she tumbled to the ground.





Chapter Five

        Focusing was difficult.  The room appeared gradually, gaining in
definition.  At first Christy wasn’t sure if she was lying down or
standing, but soon direction also became apparent and she realized she
was lying in her bed.  Neil stood over her, a cold compress in his hands,
ready to apply to her forehead.  He watched her a moment before deciding
to sit back down in the chair beside the bed and toss the cloth into the
basin.  Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he clasped his
hands together, seeming to wait for her to speak first.


        "What happened?" Christy asked, her voice shaky.  She felt groggy, as if
she had just been abruptly awakened from a deep sleep.


        "I might ask you the same question, Christy."  Neil’s tone indicated his
displeasure.  "Alice tells me you’ve not been eating or resting well for
weeks.  My limits as a doctor are most apparent when my patients fail to
do their part in keeping me informed about their health."


        Christy knew he was right.  She had ignored her health, but that didn’t
make his admonishment easier to take.  "I know.  .  ." she replied.


        He leaned back, running his hand through his hair, a faraway look in his
eyes.  When he returned his gaze to hers she was struck by the warmth and
concern in his expression.  "I worry about you, Christy, and not just
because I’m your doctor.  Do you understand what I’m telling you?  You’re
important to me, very important.  I need you to trust me.  I need you to
tell me what’s bothering you."


        Christy’s throat tightened with emotion.   His face was so open and
vulnerable.  His eyes implored her, to say, to say what?   She struggled
against the words that kept threatening to spill out. . .‘I love you,
Neil.  I love you.’  "I. . . can’t.  I’m sorry.  I guess I’ve just been
worrying about all that’s been happening.  Margaret. . .and how Alice is
coping.  And David’s been acting so strangely ever since I told him I
couldn’t marry him.  He. . .said something before that’s bothering me,
but it’s really not that important. . . ."  Her words trailed off as she
realized she was spilling out all her thoughts except the one that
mattered most.


        Neil sighed and stood up.  He took the few steps toward the French
double doors leading to the balcony and leaned against the frame, folding
his arms over his chest.  Christy propped herself up on her pillows and
waited for Neil to argue, to admonish, to say something.  But as she
watched him looking out at the stars, she began to wonder at his silence.
 She knew he couldn’t be satisfied with her answer—he’d always known
whether she was admitting to her true feelings or not.  This wasn’t like
him to give up so quickly.  Always before he had been ready to respond to
nearly anything she said.  What was different?


        "You still love him, don’t you?"  Neil spoke so softly Christy almost
doubted she had heard him correctly.  He was looking at her now, his
expression troubled.  "You’re regretting your decision not to marry him. 
Why did you turn him down, Christy?"


        The lump in Christy’s throat threatened to strangle her.  She wanted to
cry out and run across the room, cover him with kisses to assure him that
what he said just wasn’t so.  Instead she felt as if invisible ropes tied
her to the bed.  She stared at him, begging him to understand with just a
look.  But he averted his eyes and headed for the door, glancing back
before opening it to address her as her doctor.


        "Stay in bed, Miss Huddleston.  Alice or Ruby Mae will bring you your
meals.  I’ll be sending someone up with something to help you sleep.  I
don’t want to have to come back here because you fainted again, so I
strongly suggest you cancel school tomorrow and spend the day recovering.


 I’ll tell Grantland to. . .to watch over you. . .and come get me if you
have a relapse."  His brogue had grown husky and his eyes avoided hers. 
Shoulders slumped in defeat,  he opened the door and stepped into the
hallway.  He didn’t say good-bye.



                                * * *


        The axe sliced a wide arc through the air and split the waiting log in
two effortlessly.  Cutter Gap’s doctor tossed the finished firewood aside
into a growing pile and, picking up another log, set it on the stump. 
‘Crack!’  The chore proved a welcome vent for the fury that kept churning
about in his belly.  ‘You’re a fool, Neil MacNeill, a fool plain and
simple.’  His conscience fueled the fire that raged within and he grabbed
another piece of timber and raised the axe.  The well-honed tool fit his
hands well.  Years of use had smoothed the wood so his hand slipped along
the handle easily.  Neil berated himself for daring to believe in the
possibility that Christy just might care about him.  He was a fool for
believing he had ever had a chance.  ‘Crack!’  The sound satisfied his
anger.  He shouldn’t have pushed her.  It had only meant that he had
finally discovered the truth.  ‘She loves David.  Not me.’  The fact that
she had not answered that one question affirmed his fear that she would
never see him in the same light.  He’d wanted her to deny it, but her
silence explained everything.  She’s better off with David, he told
himself.  But he’d never thought David was right for her.  No, the truth
was that he believed she was simply better off without him, Neil
MacNeill, bitter cove doctor.  ‘Crack!’


        "Neil MacNeill, I don’t think I’ve seen you in a worse mood.  I declare,
ye must be stewin’ about somethin’ to be splittin’ those logs so hard. 
Yer gonna break that handle yer pa carved, ye know."  Fairlight stepped
out of the brush onto the blackened earth behind Neil’s cabin.
Neil glared over at her and bent to pick up another log.  "Fairlight, to
what do I owe the pleasure?"  


        Fairlight ignored the sarcasm in his voice.  "Oh, I was jest walkin’ and
I thought I’d come see ye.  Haven’t seen ye about the mission house much
lately, nor about the cove for that matter. Hasn’t been many emergencies
lately, I reckon.  I called out while I was comin’ up the path yonder. 
Ye must be havin’ some pretty deep thoughts.  Care to tell me what’s on
yer mind?"


        ‘Crack!’


        "I’d rather not, Fairlight."


        Undeterred, Fairlight stepped toward him, careful to allow a safe
distance between herself and the chopping block, and tried again. 
"Christy’s been out of bed today teachin’ the young-un’s.  She hated
missin’ even one day.  Don’t know how Alice convinced her she best take
two.  I doubt I’ve seen her more miserable, though.  Whatever you two
talked about the other night certainly has gotten under that girl’s skin.
 She’s not talkin’ neither.  The silence between you two is loud enough
to roust out all the wild turkeys from here to Raven Gap."  


        "I didn’t say anything to upset her, just the truth."


        "The truth according to Neil MacNeill, or the truth that finally needs
to be told?"


        Puzzled, Neil looked at her, wrinkling his brow.


        "You mean you still haven’t told her?"


        "What, Fairlight?  What should I tell her?  That she should spend her
life with a man who hurts everyone he loves?  It’s better this way.  She
deserves better."  Neil sighed heavily, and raised the axe to rest on his
shoulder.  "I might as well tell you. . .I’ve decided to let her go."


        "If I didn’t know better, I’d say ye was lettin’ the past destroy
somethin’ afore it even begins.  Margaret’s gone.  You gotta stop the
hurtin’ that relationship caused and see the love that’s jest waitin’ for
ye.  The way I see it, you and Christy are jest hidin’ behind fear.  Ye
can’t let it beat ye down anymore, Neil."


        Neil responded sharply, "Christy’s in love with Reverend Grantland.  She
regrets turning down his offer of marriage.  No doubt she’s just worried
about how he’ll react when she tells him as much.  It’s got nothing to do
with me, and it never has!"  With a loud roar, Neil struck the bare stump
with the full force of the axe, the blade sinking deep as if to emphasize
his point.  


        Fairlight shuddered. "Where’d ye get sech a scatterbrained idea? 
Christy knows David ain’t the man fer her and she’s known fer some time
now.  You must be blind in both eyes and deaf in both ears not to know
that.  You were there, Neil.  She turned the Preacher down flat for no
other reason but that she knew he weren’t the one.  If she led ye to
believe otherwise, I’d say she’s jest afraid to tell ye the truth."


        "What truth is that, Fairlight?"  Neil asked wearily.


        "Open yer eyes, Neil.  That woman’s in love all right, but it ain’t with
the Reverend.  I reckon she’s ‘bout to bust out in bloom ever time she
sees you.  Reminds me of when Jeb was a-courtin’ me.  My tongue was tied
near all the time.  I could hardly think straight.  Took me a long time
to finally tell ‘im how I felt.  And there weren’t no dead wife or other
relationship gone bad to make me doubt myself, neither."  Fairlight
turned to walk away, seeing her words were indeed having an affect on the
doctor.  "You jest think on that, Neil, and I’ll leave ye be."


        Neil nodded absently at her and stared at the stump with the imbedded
axe.  A deep crack snaked outward from either end of the blade, inching
down the sides of the chopping block.  A slightly harder thrust would
have split the stump in two, rendering it useless.   All his anger went
into forming that crack. . .all his anger, but not all of his doubt.



                                * * *


        Christy dismissed her students for the day and stood watching them
disappear into the trees on their way to their separate homes.  With the
holidays approaching, tomorrow would be the last day of class for a week.
 She needed the time away and had arranged to leave early Saturday
morning for Asheville.  Home.  Her mother’s pampering and father’s love
would be like healing balm.   Yet, somehow leaving felt like running. 
Before she left, Christy knew she had to tell Neil she didn’t love David.
 That she never did.  That she loved only him.  But face Neil?  He’d left
so abruptly the other night.  Did that mean he didn’t want to see her? 
Why was he so confusing?


        Fairlight.  She needed to talk with Fairlight.  She would know what to
do.  Christy buttoned her coat and closed the schoolhouse doors.  Then,
like her students moments before, she raced across the open field.


        The first snow had yet to fall, but the cold December air stung her
throat and lungs.  Christy slowed her pace and placed one gloved hand
over her mouth to warm the air she breathed.  The barren trees made the
path easier to see than in the summertime, but Christy had walked this
particular trail many times.  She hardly noticed the markers she had
picked out to find her way in the first few months she had lived in
Cutter Gap.  She passed an outcropping of rock.  Later a gnarled stump. 
A trail of smoke rising into the late afternoon sky signaled her arrival
on Spencer land before the cottage came into view. 

 
        She called out from the yard and Fairlight stepped out on her porch
before Christy began to climb the steps.


        "Christy.  I jest made some tea.  Would you care to join me?"


        Christy smiled at her friend.  Her warmth was just what she needed. 
"Thank you, Fairlight.  That would be lovely."


        Staring into her cup, Christy wondered where to start.  There was so
much she hadn’t told her friend, but Christy sensed that Fairlight knew
why she had come.   She glanced over at her and saw Fairlight was waiting
patiently, sipping her tea.  Christy sighed, letting out some of the
tension.  Fairlight’s friendship meant she would not judge.  ‘Just tell
her.’  


        "Do you remember that afternoon when I asked you how you knew Jeb was
the man you wanted to marry?"


        Fairlight nodded, encouraging Christy to go on.


        "You asked me who my best friend was.  I knew then that Neil was that
person.  I realized he was the man I loved, not David.  It was like a
wind blew through me, erasing all the confusion and doubt.  For awhile,
it lifted me up.  It wasn’t long before I realized how I felt didn’t
matter.  It just seemed like my dreams would never. . ."  She choked on
her words and clutched her cup with both hands.  "Even now, I can’t see
the end.  He’s so hard to figure out sometimes.  I just wish I knew what
to say when I’m with him.  Nothing comes out right."


        "The other night, before I fainted, we met by accident outside the
mission.  It was late.  He’d been somewhere to perform a surgery.  I was
just out walking before bed.  We talked almost as if we hadn’t gone over
a month without seeing each other.  I wanted to tell him then, but the
words wouldn’t come.  Then, later, in my room, he asked me to tell him
what was bothering me.  I couldn’t say anything.  It was like I’d
suddenly become mute.  Then he said I must still love David.  Fairlight,
it was unthinkable to me that he should believe that.  Why couldn’t I
deny it?  I let him leave believing a lie."


        Fairlight reached across the table and grasped one of Christy’s hands in
her own, squeezing it gently.  "Nothing’s happened that can’t be fixed. 
A heart that’s found its home always remembers, no matter what life does
to make it try and fergit.  Don’t fret, Christy.  I believe in my heart
that you and Neil are meant fer each other.  Jest wait on the Lord. 
He’ll clear the path so ye can see the way."


        ‘Wait on the Lord.’  Miss Alice had said the same thing.  And, at
Neil’s, she’d thought she’d felt the Holy Spirit speaking to her inside. 
He’d said to wait on Him, too.  Christy felt embraced in Love.  ‘God is
in the midst of my trouble.  He cares.’


        "Christy, I’m yer friend, so I feel I can tell ye what’s in my heart,
jest like you been doin’ jest now.  Ever time I thought about you with
David, I jest didn’t feel right.  It was like a heaviness in my belly
that jest wouldn’t go away.  It weren’t my place to tell ye what was in
yer heart.  You figgered it out in time, and I’m glad for ye.  You and
Neil, now that’s diff’rent.  I knew even when Margaret was still alive
that someday you two would hitch up.  Hit didn’t seem to matter none that
Neil weren’t free.  Hit was just the right thing.  There’s nothin’ I
would like more than fer the two of you to be happy.  I know you will."


        Touched by her friend’s confidence, Christy squeezed her hand.  "I guess
my faith has been pretty weak lately, Fairlight.  I want so much, but I’m
afraid.  I don’t feel like I deserve it. . . him.  And I just don’t know
what’s truly in his heart.  Sometimes, I think he cares.  Other times,
it’s like there’s a wall between us."


        "Do you remember I also asked you who makes your blood boil?"


        "Yes.  I blurted out ‘Neil MacNeill’ without even thinking."


        "Love ain’t about thinkin’.  It comes from somewhere deep inside—from a
place we don’t even pay attention to most of the time.  But once someone
gets inside we’re never the same.  They get in our blood, become a part
of our soul, even before our minds know what to make of it.  And
sometimes that means we need a nudge to understand why a person gets
under our skin, or why we feel we gotta build walls to protect ourselves.
 If you want to know what’s in that man’s heart, you best jest tell him
what’s in yours."


        "You’re right.  I think I must have built my own barrier.  I’ve been so
afraid. . .of him. . .myself.  I don’t know why I’ve been reacting this
way.  It’s funny.   I thought I was confused by Neil when really it’s got
just as much to do with me."


        Fairlight smiled.  "Can I give ye another cup of tea."


        "No, thanks.  I should get back to the mission before they worry about
me."  Christy rose and put on her coat.  "Thank you for talking with me
Fairlight.  Somehow I knew it would help if I just told you what was
troubling me."


        "Weren’t no trouble.  You’re always welcome to visit, Christy."  


        The two friends walked outside onto the porch.  Darkness would soon
claim the mountainside and Christy knew she needed to hurry home.  A part
of her longed to follow the path to Neil’s instead. 

 
        Fairlight noticed her staring off into the distance thoughtfully.  "I’m
guessin’ tomorrow would be a good day to go traipsin’, wouldn’t you say,
Christy?"


        Christy laughed as she noticed the mischievous grin on Fairlight’s face.
 "I agree, Fairlight.  I just might have to do that."


        Waving at Fairlight as she went, Christy started off down the familiar
trail toward the mission house, her steps light and her heart hopeful.



Chapter Six

        A shadowy figure on a horse galloped toward Christy.  Why couldn’t she
see his face?  He offered her a hand up, but she couldn’t move her arms. 
He kept his hand thrust out to her and called her name.  "Christy."  His
voice tumbled gently over each syllable like a river over stones. 

 
        She looked up at him but saw only the blurred outline of his head.  ‘Who
are you?’  She thought the words but could not move her mouth.
        "Don’t you recognize me?  You must try.  I’ve waited so long for you, my
love.  Come away with me."


        Something familiar glinted in the eyes that had suddenly come into
focus.  They looked like home.  Her heart lived there.  He kept it.  
        She looked down at her body, at the vines wrapped about her.  She
couldn’t move.  Why couldn’t he see she needed him to release her?


        The man moved his hand away.  He was leaving her.  Alone.  So alone. 
She could see him fully now, see the unruly sandy curls tossled about his
head, his chiselled face, his blue eyes.  He turned from her and
disappeared into the shadows again.  A heaviness settled on her chest. 
‘No.  Don’t go. Neil!’


        Christy awoke with a start.  She was sweating and gasping for air.  The
quilts had become tangled about her.  "It was just a dream," she spoke
aloud.  "Just a dream."  Christy untangled herself and climbed out of
bed.  Splashing cold water on her face helped her wake up, but she
couldn’t shake the heavy feeling the dream had placed on her heart.  She
knew she had to see Neil today.  Too much time had gone by without him
knowing the truth.  Glancing at the clock on her night stand, Christy
realized with dismay that she would have to wait until after school.  She
hurriedly dressed and went downstairs for a quick breakfast before
school.

                                * * *


        Christy sat on the schoolhouse steps and watched the children play a
game of baseball.  She’d just released them for lunch and intended to
allow them extra time to enjoy the unusually temperate weather.  Since
David had taught them the game of baseball it had become a favorite lunch
break activity.  Feeling chilled, she decided to spend the rest of the
break inside at her desk.  She wanted to make sure all the children’s
Christmas gifts were in order before the party at the end of the day. 
She’d taken advantage of her recent sleepless nights to make each gift as
special as possible.  She’d chosen practical gifts, but knew they would
be much appreciated by the children if they would only accept them. 
Among the items were woolen socks, mittens, hats, and shoes from the
mission barrels.  The accompanying cards she’d made for each child, as
well as the candy she’d purchased with her earnings, were meant to entice
each child to accept their gift in the spirit in which she gave it.  A
week ago she had given a lesson on Saint Nicolaus and had tied it into
the birth of Jesus to show the children why people gave gifts to each
other at Christmas.  


        As she stood and looked out at the children one more time to check on
them, she spotted someone on a horse riding toward the schoolhouse. 
‘Neil!’  But why was he coming now?  She hadn’t asked him to give a
science lesson today.  Attempting to calm her nerves, she forced her legs
to carry her down the steps and out into the yard to greet him.


        "Dr. MacNeill, how are you?  I wasn’t expecting you at the school
today."


        Alighting from his horse, he walked toward her, a smile in his eyes. 
"Good day, Miss Huddleston.  And no, I don’t suppose you were expecting
me.  I hope that doesn’t make the visit unwelcome."


        "Of course not."  She felt her cheeks flush.


        "I thought I might stop by and check on you before I go.  Any dizziness
lately, fainting spells?"


        A puzzled look on her face, Christy responded, "No, no dizziness.  I’ve
been fine.  But, you said you’re going somewhere?"


        "Yes, Low Gap.  Apparently several people down with influenza.  I’ll
likely be gone a few days."


        Her heart sank.  How could she tell him now, in front of the children? 
She would probably be gone to Asheville before he returned.  Another
week, at least. . . .


        "Why the long face, Christy?  Are you sure you’ve been well?  You can’t
take any chances.  Influenza could break out in Cutter Gap any day now.
It’s a dangerous illness."


        "I know.  I’ve. . .been fine, really.  It’s just that I was planning to
come see you later. . .to talk about something."  She looked away from
him, glancing at the children.  Why did he have to look at her so
intently?


        "If it’s important, we can talk now.  What’s on your mind?"


        "It can wait, really.  I don’t want to keep you."  Tears blurred her
eyes.


        "Christy, what is it?"  He stepped closer to her and touched her forearm
with one hand. "Tell me what’s wrong."


        "Not now, Neil.  I can’t. . ."  Christy turned and ran back to the
school, tears of disappointment falling down her cheeks.  


        Neil frowned as he watched her go, every muscle in his body tense and
ready to race after her.  He looked over at the children.  A few were
watching him, while others continued to play their game, heedless of his
presence.  Neil resolutely strode toward the schoolhouse, stopping only
to wrap Charlie’s reins loosely around a post.


        He opened the doors and spotted Christy at her desk fidgeting with
various papers, attempting to gain control over her emotions.  Closing
the double doors, he took off his hat, rumpling it in his hands, and
walked toward her.


        "Christy, I need you to tell me what’s bothering you.  Any doctor worth
his salt needs his patient’s input to come up with an accurate
diagnosis."  


        Confused by the fact that he had followed her, Christy stared at him. 
"Neil. . .shouldn’t you be on your way?"  


        "It appears I have some doctoring to do here first.  You wouldn’t want
me to be remiss in my duties to the cove, now would you?"  
        "No, of course not," she muttered.


        "Well, then?"


        Christy took a deep breath, realizing she had no way to avoid him.  She
still felt uneasy.  What if one of the children came inside?  "I. .
.wanted to talk to you about the other night.  When I fainted.  But,
privately."


        "So you aren’t feeling all right.  Christy, why didn’t you tell me
before?"


        "No, Neil.  It’s not that.  It’s. . ."


        "It’s all right, Christy.  We’re alone here."


        She took a deep breath and began, "Neil, I don’t want you to think
anymore that I want to be with David.  I realized that I didn’t love him
over two months ago, maybe even before that, and I haven’t changed my
mind.  I can’t bear for you to believe otherwise."  


        "I shouldn’t have pried.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  You were in
no condition to deal with me grilling you."


        "No.  I should have answered you.  Neil, I just don’t want you to think
David and I will be together.  He’s not the man I want.  And he’s changed
so much the last two months.  I hardly know him anymore."  Christy’s brow
furrowed as she thought of David’s moodiness.  They still had some things
to work out.  And that letter. . . .


        Neil’s temporary relief at her revelation quickly turned to concern.  "I
remember you and David were arguing over something at my cabin the day
Margaret died.  Do you mean to tell me that’s still going on?"


        "No, well, he’s been more pleasant.  It’s just that he said something to
me then. . ." she stopped herself, searching for the right explanation,
unable even now to define the impact of David’s threat.


        Neil tensed as he remembered the small portion of the conversation he’d
overhead.  "What did he say to you, Christy?"


        Christy was taken aback by the look of intense concern in his eyes and
wished she hadn’t mentioned the argument.  Why had she brought it up?  It
was between herself and David.  But somehow it felt better to finally let
it out.  "He. . .told me he’d written a letter to Dr. Ferrand about me .
. .about my conduct.  He said he would send it if I didn’t go back to the
mission with him that day.  I don’t know if he did or not."  Christy
walked away from the desk, avoiding Neil’s eyes. 

 
        "Do you know what was in that letter, Christy?"


        "No.  He just said I hadn’t been proper somehow in my conduct.  He
didn’t say how, just that he didn’t approve of my being at your cabin. 
He’s been angry with me ever since I refused to marry him.  I guess I led
him to believe there was some hope.  He had every right to be angry.  I
don’t even know if he really wrote the letter or if he sent it.  He
hasn’t said anything more about it. . ."  Christy said, turning back to
him,  ". . .and I haven’t asked."  The lines of Neil’s body had hardened
in anger.  She feared for David.  "It probably was just something said in
anger. . ."


        "No, Christy.  Don’t defend him.  That coward dared threaten you after
you had done so much to help Margaret, Alice, and myself."  Speaking
almost to himself, he added, "I knew what a fool he could be, but this?" 
 He directed his gaze back to her.  "Where’s Grantland, Christy?"  His
voice had become stone.


        She felt frozen in place, but inside a thousand butterflies flew about
madly.  "He’s not here.  He’s out on Prince, somewhere."  Neil looked at
her with one brow raised in query.  "He goes on long rides sometimes and
doesn’t tell us where," she added timidly.


        Neil snorted.  "That man will be hearing from me, Christy.  Mark my
words.  And don’t warn him.  I don’t want him running back to Boston
before I can deal with him."  He turned brusquely and headed for the
door.  


        Christy ran down the aisle and locked her left arm over his in an
attempt to turn him away from the doors back to her.  His arm was like
iron and his body immovable.  "Please, Neil.  Don’t leave like this.  I
shouldn’t have said anything.  It’s between David and me.  You don’t have
to fight my battles for me," she pleaded.


        "I haven’t done anything yet, Christy.  Don’t worry, I’m just going to
teach him a lesson in respect."


        "How, by starting Cutter Gap’s newest blood feud?"  


        Neil studied her indignant expression then tilted back his head and
laughed.  "Christy, you can’t have a blood feud between two men."
        Flustered, Christy tried to loosen the grip he now had on her arm.  "You
know what I meant."


        "Aye.  I know what you meant.  Leave the method to me, Christy.  I
promise any blood that’s spilt won’t be life-threatening.  No matter how
much I might wish it to be otherwise.  Now, was there anything else you
needed to discuss with me, Miss Huddleston?"


        A tremor passed through her body as her senses became aware of how close
she was to him.  What else was there to say? 


 
        "I need to be on my way to Low Gap.  If there’s nothing else. . ."


        If he was in such a hurry, why did he keep that vise-like grip on her
arm?  How was it possible for him to hold her gaze like that?  She should
just be able to look away.  "I can’t think of anything. . . ."


        "Will you miss me?"  He spoke softly, almost in a whisper.


        "Yes,"  Christy whispered back.


        He loosened the strength of his grip then, but neither made a move away
from the other.  His face was so close she could feel warm breath on her
cheek.  His fingers caressed the back of her arm almost imperceptibly,
sending shivers throughout her body.  The tenderness in his eyes prompted
her not to let him go without telling him everything.  "Neil. . .there is
something else. . .I have to tell you. . ."


Someone abruptly pushed open one of the doors, nearly hitting her.

  
        "Miz Christy?"


        Neil grasped Christy’s arm to push her away from the door’s path, and
then dropped his hand to his side.  Christy instinctively smoothed her
hair and skirt and attempted to smile at Rob Allen.  "Rob, can I help you
with something?"


        Rob glanced at his teacher and at the doctor.  "I jest wondered if you
lost track o’ time, is all.  We’ve been outside near three-quarters of an
hour, I reckon."


        "No, I’ve just had some things to discuss with Dr. MacNeill.  But, he’s
leaving now, so we can start the afternoon classes.  Why don’t you go
start rounding everyone up?"  She nodded at him to go and do as she
asked, hoping he didn’t notice how embarrassed she was at being caught
standing so close to the doctor.


        "Sure thing, Miz Christy."  Rob started to close the door again, when
Neil reached his arm out to block the door.  Almost in the same motion,
he grasped the handle of the other door, opening them both wide.  Christy
suddenly felt very exposed, the outside world was dramatically more
expansive than the close-quartered schoolhouse.

  
        The spell between them broken, Christy watched Neil saunter down the
steps and walk toward his horse.  Then, she followed him as far as the
bottom of the steps.  After mounting Charlie, Neil steered the horse
toward Christy and stopped for a moment in front of her.  "Perhaps we
will finish our conversation when I return from Low Gap, Miss
Huddleston."


        For the first time Christy regretted his return to formal address,
playful though it was.  It meant a barrier had once again been raised
between them.  "Oh, we can’t.  I mean, I’ll be gone to visit my parents
in Asheville. . .for the Christmas holiday."


        Looking dispirited by the news, Neil sighed, "Well, then, after you
return. . .you are coming back?"


        "Of course."


        A faraway look appeared in his eyes a moment as he remembered something.
 Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a small leather pouch.  "I
almost forgot.  I found this the other day.  It made me think of you.  I
want you to have it."


        Christy reached out her hand to accept the small gift.  "What is it?"


        Neil smiled and simply said, "Goodbye, Miss Huddleston."


        "Be careful, Doctor."  She called after him as he rode away.


        Fingering the soft leather of the drawstring bag, Christy wondered at
the contents.  It felt hard, a disk of some sort, but something else
crinkled . . .a note?  Her curiosity would have to wait as the children
had begun to pour into the classroom around her, successfully rounded up
for afternoon classes by Rob Allen.  He tailed the rest of the students
and stopped in front of her at the top of the steps.


        "Miz Christy.  I know it ain’t my business, but if you need to go talk
with the doc, I reckon we wouldn’t mind none if you dismissed school
early."


        Christy smiled at Rob and squeezed his arm affectionately.  His concern
warmed her heart.  "Thank you, Rob, but that won’t be necessary.  The
doctor and I can finish our conversation another time.  Now I intend to
teach you and have a little fun.  I wouldn’t miss our Christmas party for
anything."


        She tucked the mysterious pouch into her pocket and walked with Rob back
into the schoolroom, intent on focusing on her children for the remainder
of the day.


*******************************************************


Chapter Seven


        As Christy swept the wood floor of the school, she thought about the
success of the Christmas party and the reception of the gifts she had
given to the children.  Each child’s face had been alight with wonder at
the wrapped packages and their contents, as if they contained priceless
treasures.  She had learned yet another invaluable lesson from her
children, the art of receiving a gift with unabashed joy.  She’d also
managed to give each child something she knew they needed and that was no
small victory.  Finding ways to help  required taking fierce mountain
pride into consideration.  She’d learned to greatly respect the people
she served because of it, but it meant having to temper her enthusiasm. 
The Christmas gifts were the perfect excuse to help her children, even
though it was in just a small way.  As she placed the broom back in the
corner, finally finished cleaning the school for the break, her hand
brushed against the pocket of her skirt, reminding her of another small
gift—the leather pouch Neil had given her just hours before.  Her
curiosity revived, she reached inside the pocket and retrieved the item. 
Smoothing her fingers over the softness of the tan leather, she walked
over to her desk so as to see the contents better by the light of the oil
lamp.   


        She untied the leather cords, loosened the opening, and tilted the pouch
over her hand.  A flat, gray-mottled rock settled into her palm.  Though
plain in appearance, it was remarkably smooth to the touch and nearly
perfectly round.  A thin, white streak down the middle completely
encircled the rock.  As she held the stone closer to the lamp, turning it
about in her hand, the band of white sparkled.  It was beautiful in a
way, but why Neil had given her such an odd gift puzzled Christy.  Hoping
the remaining contents of the pouch contained the reason, she pulled out
a small piece of paper and proceeded to unfold it.  Spreading the sheet
in front of her, she read the careful script of the note.


                        Christy—
                I found this the other day in the river.  It reminded me of 
        the first time I found you standing on its banks under the moon.        You
were a glimmer of light in my darkness.  I think I’m beginning  to
understand.
                                                —Neil


        Christy’s breath caught in her throat as the note and the meaning of the
gift finally became clear.  Unheeded tears fell down her cheeks as she
pondered the stone anew.  A thin line of quartz divided the stone down
the middle like a streak of lightning across a stormy sky.  It would have
taken hundreds of years for the water to smooth and round the stone. 
Years to wear away its roughness and reveal the imbedded quartz.  Yet, it
had taken just a moment for Neil to reach into the shallows and retrieve
it from the constant creative motion of the river.  She imagined the sun
sparking off the mineral, catching his eye at the moment he began to cast
his fishing line, or perhaps he had simply been standing on the
riverbank, the flow of the river washing over his spirit.  Christy knew
the power of these small gifts of nature, having treasured such things as
autumn leaves and pine cones since childhood.  Most of what she had
gathered herself through the years had long been forgotten or discarded,
their uniqueness lost as soon as another object captured her interest. 
She knew already that Neil’s discovery would remain one of her lasting
treasures.


        She held in her hand a simple expression of faith, a testament to the
way God was working through her love for Neil to reveal His own, perfect
love.  It humbled her to think that she could be a witness to Neil, a
source of light.  She thanked God once again for the opportunity he’d
given her to live and work in Cutter Gap.  Never in her wildest dreams
did she believe she could matter so much to so many people, but every now
and then God showed her how she was truly making a difference.  She
tilted the stone toward the lamp again, awed at the way light danced off
the quartz.  A new thought struck her . . .the river stone had reminded
him of her, specifically, Christy Huddleston.  How she longed to finish
the conversation they had begun earlier that afternoon.  


        Sighing wistfully, Christy began to pack her books into her satchel when
a cold draft hit her.  She looked up, thinking she had left the door open
by mistake when she had finished sweeping the steps.  Instead, David
stood watching her, his hands on his hips.  Christy strained to see his
face in the shadows but couldn’t make out his expression.


        "David.  I didn’t see you.  I was just packing up to walk back to the
mission.  I’m not late for dinner am I?"  His silence made her nervous. 
Why didn’t he walk forward into the halo of light around her desk?


        "No,"  he said finally.  He ambled slowly down the aisle toward her.
Frustrated by his curt reply and demeanor, she returned to organizing her
desk, deciding she would let him decide when and if he wanted to speak.
        "You were thinking of him, weren’t you?"  The question was accusing in
tone.


        "I don’t know what you mean,"  she rejoined, feigning confusion.


        "Don’t play games with me, Christy."  


        She looked him straight in the eye, meeting the challenge in his words. 
"You’re right.  I shouldn’t play games with you, and I guess I was guilty
of that before.  I’m sorry.  I don’t know what else to say, David, other
than when I finally understood my own heart, I was able to tell you how I
felt.  There’s nothing else for me to do.  It’s your turn to let me go."


        He seemed to want to drop the path their conversation was taking and
picked up the river stone that still lay on top of Neil’s note.  "A
student?"


        Christy clenched her fists at her side, wishing she had already returned
the stone and note to the pouch.  Knowing he would see right through a
lie, she squeezed her eyes shut and said, "No, Neil gave it to me."


        When she opened her eyes, she was taken aback by the pain and confusion
she saw on his face.   "David.  What’s wrong?"


        "I can’t let you go, Christy.  You’re all I have."


        "No, David.  You still have me.  I’m your friend, and I care about you. 
Many people care about you.  There’s Miss Alice, the families of Cutter
Gap, your mother, Ida, Sissel."


        David flinched.  "I don’t have Sissel anymore, Christy.  I don’t have my
mother.  Ida might as well be gone."


        "What do you mean, David?  What’s happened to your mother and Sissel?"
        "Sissel’s engaged to some professor at the Boston Conservatory of Music.
 Mother’s dead.  I mean. . .I don’t have anyone."  He covered his face in
his hands, gripping his forehead.


        Shocked at his words, she quietly asked, "When did you know?"
        "Sissel wrote me in October.  Mother passed away last month," David
muttered from behind his hands.


        As if his words had hit her in the chest, Christy gasped.  "David, why
on earth didn’t you tell me?  Have you kept this from everyone?  We might
have ended our courtship but that didn’t mean I wanted to end our
friendship."  Christy believed she had at last uncovered the reason for
David’s behavior in recent months.  "Oh, David, I’ve been foolishly
thinking it’s all been about me, or us, when you’ve been going through so
much more than ending a relationship."


        "I didn’t think you would forgive me after the way I reacted to you
breaking it off between us.  Then everything kept building and building. 
I didn’t know how to get back to the way things were."


        "David, you don’t have to explain.  I should have been more attentive to
you. . ."


        "It’s not your job.  It’s never been."


        "But, David, why have friends if you don’t turn to them when you need
them?  Why have God?"  She feared she had overstepped herself when he
gave her a sharp look.


        "Why God? is exactly the question I ask myself every night.  Why do I
bother?  Why does He bother?"


        "Because He loves you, David, with a Father’s heart.  He didn’t do this
to you.  He wants to help you get through it.  I just know it.  Please,
David, don’t push God away any longer.  Don’t push the people who care
about you away."


        She saw the struggle behind his eyes.  Something else bothered him,
something deeper.  Moving in front of him, she grasped both his arms
gently but firmly and looked up at him expectantly, hoping to invite him
to pour the rest out.  Her body blocked the lamplight so that only the
upper half of his face was illuminated.  "Talk to me, David.  I’m
listening."


        "Aren’t you going to ask me why I didn’t go to my mother’s funeral?"


        "No, but if you want to tell me. . ."


        "Because I could never forgive her for running my life."  He shrugged
out of her grip and moved away, deeper into the shadows of the room.


        Christy had been totally unprepared for David’s revelations.  How could
she respond to so much and be helpful?  She quickly offered a prayer for
help and immediately felt peace wash over her.  'Just love him as I do.' 
Christy was surprised by the voice inside of her.  It was like knowing
instead of hearing.  But, she knew she could trust it. 


        "David, I need you to know that I care about you. . .very much.  No
matter what you think happened when I turned you down, I still cared for
you.  I never wanted. . ."


        David’s face contorted as if she had struck him.  "Don’t!  Don’t,
Christy.  This was a mistake."  He moved toward the still open door.


        Christy walked quickly after him.  "David, you came to me.  I know you
wanted to talk to me, to someone.  Don’t shut me out again.  This isn’t
what you want, I know it."


        His shoulders slumped in a gesture of defeat.  "It’s no use.  I’ve
failed.  No amount of talking will change that."  He looked down at her,
his face entirely in shadow.  "I’m going back to Boston as soon as Miss
Alice finds a replacement.  Until I can find other employment, I’ll serve
in my old church, in the way my mother wanted."  


        "You can’t leave Cutter Gap.  This is where you belong.  You’ve done so
much, here."


        "It’s so easy for you, Christy.  You knew what you wanted from the
beginning.  You had a choice.  I didn’t."


        "You’re wrong, David.  I didn’t always know.  I doubted I could handle
living here, working here.  But, do you know why I can hang on?  I trust
God.  And He is everywhere I look. . .in the children’s faces, in the
mountains, in the rivers and streams, in you.  You’ve got to believe me
when I say it has not been easy.  Don’t you see?  You have to trust God
with your whole life."


        "I can’t do that.  I never could," he said finally.  Then he walked away
from her and down the stairs.


        "David!"  Christy vainly called into the night after him, her spirit
sinking as his form blended into the darkness.  How hard it was to
discern shape on a moonless night.  Christy stared up at the sky and
searched for a sign that the moon would be rising soon, but the black
expanse of space stretched unbroken from horizon to horizon.  She longed
for some assurance that she had done all she could for David, but she
feared she had done more harm than good.

  
        "Oh Lord, I wish I could understand your ways.  Instead I fumble through
this life you’ve given me.  Please help David.  I don’t know what to do
for him, but I know you love him.  Give me wisdom."  Christy prayed
aloud, not knowing at first that she was doing so.  It had emerged from
deep within without her bidding.  





Chapter Eight
        

 On Saturday morning Christy sat in the passenger train headed for
Asheville regretting her decision to go home for the holidays.  She left
so much undone in Cutter Gap.  After months of worrying about David, he
had finally come to her and revealed his hurt.  She felt as if she were
abandoning a friend when he needed her most.  She prayed he wouldn’t
leave until she could talk to him again.


        Slipping her hand in her pocket, she clutched the round stone Neil had
given her.  Her romantic heart wanted to believe the simple gift meant
something more than a gesture between friends.  She looked out at the
quickly passing scenery where her home had been for two years, the
mountains still barren of snow.  It seemed as though the brown earth was
crying out to the sky to send its winter cover.  A thick layer of clouds
hinted at a late first snow of which she would not be witness.  Her heart
felt just as heavy with longing, but the slate gray heavens offered her
no promises.  Christy sighed and decided to close her eyes and rest. 
She’d been up late packing and had to rise early to meet the train.  It
wasn’t long before she fell soundly asleep, dreaming of the cove covered
in the first snow and children playing in the drifts.


                                * * *


        A shrill whistle pierced the air and Christy woke with a start.  The
conductor was passing through her car and announcing their arrival to the
Asheville train station.  Still groggy, Christy sat up and yawned,
wondering at how she had managed to sleep six hours on a train full of
people.  Gathering her things together, she stood up with the rest of the
passengers and moved to disembark.  She tried to shake off her
sleepiness.  It wouldn’t do to meet her parents half-awake.  The cold
blast of air that hit her as she stepped from the passenger car succeeded
in opening her eyes the rest of the way.  Then she spotted her father and
her heart filled with happiness.  The wide smile on his face was just
what she needed.  She ran to embrace him.


        "Daddy!  I’m so happy to see you."


        "And I you, Little Miss.  It has been too long."  He gave her a fierce
bear hug and Christy shrieked as he picked her up.


        "Daddy!  You shouldn’t do this.  What about . . ."


        "Now, don’t fret."  He said as he set her back down on solid ground. 
"Your Dr. MacNeill fixed me right up, if you will recall.  And all that
exercise has made me feel better than ever.  I’m strong as an ox."  He
grinned widely at her and leaned over to grab her bags, lifting them high
as if to demonstrate his renewed vitality.


        Christy giggled at his exaggerated motion.  "I think a little Huddleston
stubbornness helped, too.  Shall we head for home?"


        "Yes, we shall.  Your mother has been most anxious for your return.  I
think she’s cleaned the house four complete times this past week."


        Father and daughter laughed and enjoyed each other’s company on the
short trip home, Christy’s earlier worries temporarily forgotten in the
joy of the reunion.


                                * * *


        Christmas feasts, church services, and caroling filled Christy’s week
home with activity and she knew she had indeed made the right decision in
coming home for the holiday.  It was easier than she imagined to become
caught up once again in the bustle of city life, though she often found
herself gaping in wonder at the richness and bounty around her.  Living
the rustic life of a highlander had changed her perspective dramatically.
 Despite who she had become, she felt the need to slip back into the role
of the child, or at least that of the young woman she had been before
she’d gone to Cutter Gap, for a little while.  As for her parents, their
joy at having their daughter home seemed boundless.  


        For the first few days of her vacation, very little was mentioned
concerning her life and work in the mountains of Tennessee.  She allowed
thoughts of Cutter Gap to dwell in the back of her mind like a dim moving
picture, and kept her energy focused on family and holiday events.  But
as the end of the week drew near, the person she had become in Cutter Gap
asserted herself, demanding she leave the dream of childhood for the
dream of her future.


        One of her favorite activities as a child had been walking with her
parents through the streets of Asheville after a snowstorm.  Christy
enjoyed the freshness of new snow and the way it so dramatically changed
the landscape.  On her final afternoon in Asheville, she and her parents
decided to take advantage of a new blanket of snow.  Christy walked
between her parents down the familiar streets of Asheville and allowed
the memories to surface.  As a little girl she had walked between her
parents, holding their hands and sometimes breaking free to jump in a
particularly enticing drift.  Moved by a wave of love for the man and
woman on each side of her, Christy took their hands in hers and smiled
warmly at them.


        Her mother smiled briefly but quickly glanced away, tears threatening
her composure.  Christy looked at her father who smiled down at her.  His
eyes twinkled as he grinned and Christy could not remember feeling more
content.


        "It has been good to have you home, Little Miss.  Are you sure you want
to go back to Cutter Gap?  Your mother and I have missed you terribly."
        "Yes, Christy.  Please tell us you’ve changed your mind about living in
that place.  We worry about you so."


        Christy sighed heavily.  The battle of wills that had begun the moment
she decided to go teach in the backwoods of Tennessee had finally decided
to intrude on the peace of her visit home.  She’d known she would have to
face her parents though she had hoped she coud avoid the usual
conversation about her choice.


        Her father spoke up again, uneasy at her silence.  "You have enjoyed
being home, haven’t you, Christy?"


        "Of course, Daddy!"  She cried vehemently.  "I can’t remember when I’ve
enjoyed Christmastime more.  It’s just that I need you to see that
Asheville isn’t my home anymore.  Cutter Gap is my home.  It’s where I
want to be."


        Her mother shook her head.  "I can’t understand.  I thought you would
change your mind by now, maybe outgrow. . ."


        "Mother, I’m not going to outgrow the place I love.  I. . ."  Christy’s
protestations were cut short as she caught a glimpse of someone out of
the corner of her eye.  Standing on the opposite street corner in front
of a tobacco shop stood a tall, broad-shouldered man.  Something in his
stance and the way he held his pipe seemed very familiar.  Then, as the
man passed a gloved hand over his blonde curls, she inhaled sharply and
cried, "Neil!"  She stared across the street at him, trying to get a
better look, wanting her heart to be right.  His sandy curls seemed too
short and neat, but perhaps he’d gotten a haircut.  If Neil was in town,
surely he would have taken advantage of the many barber shops, Christy
reasoned.  He wore a black coat in an uncharacteristic, formal style for
the country doctor, but Christy had herself been wearing more fashionable
dresses while she had been home.  Surely he was simply trying to blend in
with the crowd.  Having studied outside Cutter Gap, Neil would know he
needed to dress differently in town.  He faced maddeningly away from
them, talking to another man who was smoking a cigar.  Dare she hope? 
But if it was him, why hadn’t he come to see her?  Why hadn’t he phoned
or written to say he was coming?  All control vanished as the need to see
the man’s face overwhelmed her.  Breaking free from her parents’ hands,
Christy ran across the street, barely missing being hit by a streetcar.  


        "Neil!  Dr. MacNeill!"  She called out as she ran, hoping to gain his
attention.  He was so deep into his conversation that he did not hear
her.  Her lungs burning from gulping frigid air, Christy ran up to his
side and gripped his arm.


        "Neil?"


        The man turned toward her, obviously surprised at the interruption. 
Christy’s heart plummeted.  The face that looked down on her was smooth
and finely featured, with a small, delicate nose, and a rounded chin. 
His eyes were dark brown and he sported a light brown mustache over thin,
colorless lips.  Tears blurred her vision as she realized her mistake.


        "I’m sorry.  I thought you were someone else."  She took her hand from
his arm as if it were a hot iron and backed away.


        "That’s fine, miss.  We all make mistakes.  A good day to you, then." 
He nodded at her politely, still looking mildly confused by his
encounter, and turned his attention back to the other man.


        Christy stood numbly in the street just by the curb, all other sound and
sensation blocked by a dull roar in her ears. 


        Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm and hauled her up to the sidewalk. 
They were scolding her for running across a busy street.


        "Stop it.  I’m not a child,"  Christy complained.


        "No, but you were just acting like one."  William Huddleston spoke
sternly, then softened.  "What is all this about, Little Miss?"


        Her mother soon appeared by her side.  "Christy, why would you think Dr.
MacNeill was in town?  You weren’t expecting him, were you?"


        "No.  I wasn’t."


        "Then, why did you call his na--?"  Julia Huddleston stopped suddenly
and studied her daughter’s crestfallen expression.  Then, in an
authoritative tone, she said, "I believe it is time to go home.  I want
to make sure cook has everything in order for dinner tonight.  William. 
Christy."


        Still feeling shocked, Christy walked in silence, trailing behind her
parents.  In her mind, she kicked herself for her foolishness.  Of course
Neil wouldn’t be in Asheville.  He had no reason at all to come here. 
What must that man on the corner think of her?  And her parents?  She
could only guess what they thought of their daughter. 

 
        They arrived home and, in a daze, she removed her coat and walked into
the parlor.  Julia called for tea and directed Christy to a chair, while
she and her husband sat on a sofa.


        Christy avoided their eyes, choosing to focus on the paisley pattern on
the carpet.  Someone placed a cup and saucer in her hands and she
mechanically sipped the hot tea.


        Mrs. Huddleston cleared her throat.  "Christy, I’d like to know when you
planned on telling us."


        "I don’t know what you mean, Mother," Christy muttered.


        "You know very well, what I mean.  For some time now I’ve known how much
you admire Dr. MacNeill, but I thought it was just a passing fascination.
 I’m worried that it has gone on so long.  You should know he’s not the
man for you.  What about that fine, young preacher, Mr. Grantland?"


        "What makes you think you know who the right man is for me, Mother?  I’m
a grown woman and can make my own choices."


        "Don’t speak to your mother that way, Christy.  We only want to know
what is going on, that’s all.  We’re concerned about you."


        "Nothing is going on.  Dr. MacNeill and I haven’t. . ."  She stopped
herself, uncertain she wanted her parents to know her true feelings for
the doctor.


        "Haven’t what?  Haven’t come to any sort of understanding?"  Mrs.
Huddleston saw that she was right.  "Well, then, it must be for the best.
 Surely, you must see that being home is the best place to mend a broken
heart.  And, there are dozens of young men in Asheville just waiting. .
."


        "I don’t want dozens of young men. . .I want Neil!"  Christy shouted,
surprising even herself.


        "Christy. . ." her father began.


        "Obviously, darling, he doesn’t want you,"  Mrs. Huddleston interrupted.
 "Otherwise, he would have said something by now.  Besides, didn’t his
wife just die?  The man has hardly had time to mourn much less think
about a second wife.  And he must be twice your age.  Don’t be foolish,
Christy."


        Her mother’s words stung deeply and the tears fell in earnest now. 
"Once you told me my dreams mattered to you, Mother.  Well, my dream is
Neil. . .Neil and my life in Cutter Gap.  It may be foolish, but it’s all
I have."  Looking up at her parents, she saw their faces expressed their
love and concern.  They were not the faces of parents intent on
destroying her dreams as their words had seemed, but the faces of those
deeply concerned about their daughter.  Unable to process such a
disparity in her grief, Christy set her cup and saucer down with a crash
and ran out of the parlor to her room.


        As she fell in a heap on her bed, she reached over to her nightstand. 
Sobbing, she grasped the river stone to her palm, squeezing until it
hurt.  She squeezed tighter, wanting to leave an imprint, needing the
hard, physical reminder of love, even if it was just an illusion.


                                * * *


        Thankful for the mindless task of packing, Christy attacked the job
vigorously that Friday morning.  Her train departed later that afternoon
and though she knew her mother had wanted her to share breakfast with the
family one last time, Christy’s appetite eluded her.  After repacking her
trunk the second time in a more satisfactory way, Christy sat on her bed
and looked about her room, searching for any forgotten item.  Nothing
left and it was only ten ‘o clock in the morning.  Resigned, she left her
room and crept down the stairs in hopes of slipping outside to the garden
before her mother saw her.  Her father had left earlier for a short day
at the office.  He planned to take her to the train station and would
leave for home to pick her up at two.


        "Christy?"


        Glancing in the direction of the dining room, she spotted her mother
walking toward her.  "Mother, I was just heading out to walk in the
garden."


        "Now, why would you want to do that?  There’s nothing to see this time
of year.  Come into the dining room and eat something.  There’s muffins
left from breakfast."  Mrs. Huddleston took her daughter by the arm and
led her into the dining room, directing her to a seat.  Placing a muffin
in front of her, she moved to pour some coffee.


        Christy picked at the muffin, choosing to turn her attention to the
coffee instead when it was set before her.


        "Christy, I don’t want you leaving us today unhappy.  Your father and I
only want what’s best for you and sometimes that means saying things that
might hurt.  I hope you can understand."


        "Mother, I know you do.  I’m sorry I yelled at you."


        "I want you to understand why I said those things to you yesterday,
about Dr. MacNeill."


        "You don’t have to."


        "Yes. I do.  Christy, you may be an adult, but you are not accustomed to
the ways of men.  Dr. MacNeill is far more experienced than you are in
matters of love and marriage.  He may be a fine country doctor, but I
can’t believe he would be the right choice for a young woman like you. 
And if he hasn’t said anything to you about courting much less marriage.
. .well, I just can’t believe these feelings you have for him will bring
you anything but pain."


        Christy found herself unable to summon her usual fighting spirit.  Some
of what her mother said made sense to her.  Neil hadn’t said anything. .
.and he was far more experienced.  Finally, she said, "I can’t explain
why I know Neil is the one, Mother, I just know no other man will do.  If
he tells me he doesn’t love me, then I will just have to live with the
pain.  I can’t imagine it being any worse than the past few months when I
haven’t even been able to tell him how I feel."  Fresh tears started to
fall and Christy searched for a handkerchief.  Her mother supplied one
from her own pocket.  "I can’t help it. . .I can’t help loving. . . ."


        Julia Huddleston sat down beside her daughter and gathered her into an
embrace.  "I know, darling.  I know.  It hurts to love in silence."


        Christy collapsed into her mother and let the weeks of uncertainty pour
out in her tears.

        
                                * * *


        Standing on the platform waiting for the train, Christy felt some
measure of peace in the way she was leaving her childhood home.  Her
parents were at least trying to understand how she felt, and she had come
to the point of appreciating the reasons for their concerns.  She
decided, somewhat ruefully, that this must mean she had truly become an
adult.  A part of her knew,  however, that a fresh seed of doubt had been
planted in a heart already fertile with the challenges of love.  She
smiled up at her father, wanting to see his grin one more time before she
departed.  


        "You know I miss you already, Little Miss."


        "Oh, Daddy.  I wish you and Mother would come back to Cutter Gap
sometime soon.  Perhaps this spring you could convince Mother to come,"
Christy suggested hopefully.  


        "Well, that, or perhaps you’ll come back to Asheville with a certain
gentleman who just so happened to save my life, not to mention, steal my
daughter’s heart.


        Christy blushed.  "Daddy."


        "I just want to be hopeful for you, Christy.  I hate to see my little
girl brokenhearted."


        She reached up to kiss his cheek on tiptoe.  "I know, Daddy.  I love
you, too."


        A shrill whistle announced the beginning of boarding for the train bound
for El Pano.  As she climbed aboard, she looked back at her father
standing alone on one section of the platform, his hands crossed behind
his back.  Seeing her hesitate, he reached up one hand into the air to
her and she blew him a kiss.  In pantomime, he grabbed for the wayward
kiss and planted his palm against his cheek.  She laughed as he then gave
her a thumbs up, letting her know the kiss had made its mark.  Her chest
ached and her stomach churned at leaving him, her mother, and Asheville
once again.  Already her visit back to her childhood home seemed a
distant memory and the train hadn’t even pulled away from the station.


        Settling into her seat for the long journey ahead, Christy pulled out
her sketchbook and quickly drew the image of her father, standing on the
platform, alone, grinning at her.  She drew to remember the faces of the
people she loved, knowing faces are canvases unto themselves onto which
the spirit, character, and life of the person is painted. 

 
        Christy sketched and dozed off and on during the train trip to El Pano. 
She drew portraits of her parents first, then a snowy scene with the
three of them walking hand in hand, then the portrait of the face she had
hoped to see on the streetcorner in Asheville.  The planes of this man’s
face were more rugged, his hair more wild, his mouth fuller, and though
she didn’t have her paints, she shaded his eyes to suggest their lighter,
more luminous, blue hue.


        Again the train whistle disturbed her sleep and Christy looked out to
see the dim indications of the station in El Pano coming into view. 
Darkness had settled over the mountains.  She noted a few people waiting
for passengers to disembark, their lanterns creating small haloes in the
night.  One would lead her home.





Chapter Nine


        On the ride back to the mission, David informed Christy of the week’s
activities, most involving the spread of influenza throughout the
settlements around Cutter Gap.  It seemed Christmas celebrations had been
disrupted by the need for most families to care for those members who had
become infected with the illness.  The mission’s inhabitants had thus far
avoided becoming sick, but more and more residents of Cutter Gap became
ill every day.  Christy felt a pang of guilt at leaving on a vacation
when those at the mission, as well as Neil and Dan, had been so busy
battling sickness. 


        David helped Christy inside with her bags and went to the stable to tend
to Prince.   He said goodnight as he planned to retire to his bunkhouse
after settling Prince in for the night.  No one greeted her inside the
mission house and Christy wondered if the others had already turned in
for the night although it was still early.  She tiptoed up the stairs
with her bags and headed for her room, but stopped in the doorway when
she heard a familiar voice, deep and low, coming from one of the other
bedrooms.   Her heart beating fast, she deposited her bags on the floor
and then walked back down the hallway.  Ruby Mae exited Miss Alice’s room
and met Christy halfway.


        “Miz Christy!  Lordy, am I glad to see you!  Miss Alice took sick after
David left to git you.  And Doc MacNeill jest happened to stop by.  Ain’t
it a wonder?”  Ruby Mae grinned widely, a mischievous look in her eyes.


        Christy cocked her head reprovingly at Ruby Mae but decided not to
verbally respond to the girl’s teasing.  “Does Miss Alice need anything
that we could bring up?  Like soup or tea?”


        “Oh, she can’t mortally keep nothin’ in her stomach that’s put in it. 
But Doc told me to fetch some water.”


        “Good, Ruby Mae.  Why don’t you go get the water.  I want to check on
Miss Alice.”


        Ruby Mae descended the stairs as Christy knocked gently on the bedroom
door.


        “Come in, Ruby Mae.”  The familiar male voice she’d heard just moments
before answered.


        Christy tentatively opened the door and stepped through the entrance. 
Miss Alice lay on the bed, covers up to her chin, her face ashen.  Neil
sat by her side and looked as if he had been in a battle.  His clothes
were rumpled, suggesting he had not been home several nights in a row,
and his hair was in wild disarray.  Dark shadows beneath his eyes
indicated a severe lack of sleep.  Christy had often seen him this way,
but he seemed especially haggard tonight.


        Neil’s face lit up briefly when she entered the room, but then he became
stern.  “Christy, you’d best make this brief.  I’ve enough patients to
deal with without adding another to my list.”


        Taken aback by his gruffness, Christy’s stubbornness flared.  “Miss
Alice will need someone to nurse her when you aren’t around, Doctor. 
Besides, I can take care of myself.”


        Neil glowered and moved to pack up his medical bag.  “Suit yourself. 
But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you get sick.”  He turned back to
Miss Alice.  “Remember what I told you.  Strict bed rest and plenty of
fluids.  I’ll be back as soon as I can to check on you.”  He brushed past
Christy and left the room, leaving her to gawk after him. 

 
        “Neil is tired, Christy.  As am I, for that matter.”  Miss Alice spoke
up from the bed.


        Still unsettled by Neil’s behavior, Christy found it difficult at first
to focus on the woman’s words.   “Oh, Miss Alice.  I’m so sorry you got
sick.  Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”


        “Thank thee, Christy, I’ll be fine.  I just need to sleep.”


        “All right.  Ruby Mae and I will take turns sitting up with you.”


        “No, thee needn’t do that.  I’ll be fine until morning.”


        “Nonsense.  I’m sure Doctor MacNeill would rather have someone check on
you in the night.  I’ll just go see if I can catch him before he leaves.”


        Alice sighed and closed her eyes, unable to find the energy to protest
further.


        Christy left the room and went in search of Neil.  She found him in
front of the fire in the parlor, leaning against the mantel, his hand
supporting his head.  He stood still with his eyes closed, as if he could
be asleep.


        She cleared her throat nervously.  “Doctor MacNeill?  I told Miss Alice
that Ruby Mae and I would take turns sitting up with her.  She says she
doesn’t want us to, but I thought we should. . .”


        “That’s fine.  I’m sure she’ll not need any special attention.  There’ve
been worse cases.”  He spoke bluntly and though he opened his eyes, he
just stared into the flames.


        Feeling hurt, Christy decided conversation with the doctor was no longer
a good idea.  Perhaps her mother had been right.  A sharp pain pierced
her heart at the thought. “Fine.  We’ll do that.”  She turned on her heel
and headed for the stairs.


        “Christy!”  Neil spoke up urgently.


        “Yes, Doctor?”  Christy turned to face him, her head raised defiantly.


        “It hasn’t been the same without you.”  


        With one short sentence, one earnest look in his eyes, Christy’s
defenses were razed.  Not trusting her voice, she nodded faintly.  She
turned and walked the rest of the way to the stairs slowly.  Once she
reached the landing, she looked back at him, hoping to steal a glance
without him noticing.  Instead, she caught him watching her.  Even from
across the room, the heat of his gaze took her breath away.  Then, as if
the bang of the kitchen door propelled her, Christy turned and fled up
the stairs.  She could hear Ruby Mae’s voice and Neil’s reply, but the
sound of her own footsteps drowned out the words.  Retreating to her
room, Christy told herself to breathe deeply, hoping to steady the
furious beating of her heart.  



                                * * *


        As Neil watched Christy disappear up the stairs, his conscience tore at
him for the way he had treated her.  It was not much of a reason, Neil
knew, but he’d been feeling hostile the entire week.  He’d been lashing
out at everyone--mothers for dirty houses, fathers for neglecting their
children, patients for ignoring his medical advice.  A larger number than
usual had contracted the flu virus, and Neil realized he’d not gotten
more than a few hours sleep at a time for a week and a half.  Even with
Dan and Alice’s assistance, the task of seeing all the ill had been
enormous.  Still, being overworked was no excuse for the way he had been
toward Christy tonight.  He looked up toward her room, wishing he could
start over and greet her the way he had imagined.  He had so much he
wanted to say, so much he’d been discovering, and he could have asked her
to sit up with him awhile, at least to find out how her visit to
Asheville had gone.  Instead, a week of ceaseless doctoring and a lack of
sleep had turned him into a bear.  

 
        He believed he had failed her in another respect as well.  Though in
truth an opportunity hadn’t arisen, Neil regretted he had not yet
confronted David concerning the threat he had made to Christy.  He had
intended not only to get to the bottom of the issue but to force David to
make a formal apology to Christy.  The man’s actions proved he had no
honor, a fact the Scottish doctor could not abide.  He, at least,
intended to show Christy the depth of his respect for her.  His temper
sometimes got in the way, he realized, as well as his desire to protect
her, but the principal remained the same.  This meant demanding others
treat Christy with consideration, including David Grantland.  The gall of
the man still rankled, like a banked fire that needed only the smallest
amount of fuel to flare up again.


        Deciding a few hours sleep would likely improve his mood, Neil made a
bed for himself in front of the fireplace.  Sleeping in the mission house
would be far more comfortable than the crowded and dirty cabins he often
stayed in on overnight calls.  It was even preferable to making the
journey back to his cabin to sleep in his own bed.  The mere thought of
riding a horse any longer that day caused his sore muscles to ache in
protest.  Staying at the mission would give him a chance to check on
Alice more easily as well.  Stretching his long limbs out on the floor,
he pulled a quilt over his body and soon drifted off to sleep.  In the
hearth, flames sparked and crackled in accompaniment to his slow
breathing.


                                * * *


        Having chosen to sit up with Miss Alice first, Christy was surprised
that she woke with the dawn the next morning feeling completely
refreshed.  Napping on the train must have helped, she reasoned.  Sending
Ruby Mae back to bed for a few hours, Christy made sure Miss Alice was
comfortable and then went downstairs to begin breakfast.


        While searching for the oatmeal, she happened to glance in the direction
of the parlor.  Just a bit of boot and leg was visible from her vantage
point.  Curious, she walked toward the room to get a better look.  There
was no mistaking the identity of the man sprawled before the fireplace, a
quilt wrapped haphazardly around his body as if he had struggled with an
assailant during the night.  Though Neil still wore his boots, he had
removed his flannel and only wore an undershirt, the sleeves pushed up in
his characteristic way.  A square of sunshine over his upper torso and
head set his hair aflame, and she had to smile at how one arm was flung
over his face to block the morning light.  He seemed so peaceful that
Christy regretted the noisy way she had been rummaging about in the
kitchen.  She realized Neil would need a more nourishing meal than he had
likely been getting the past week, so she went in search of more hearty
breakfast fare than oatmeal. 


        Satisfied she had enough eggs and bacon set aside for two hungry men,
Ruby Mae, and herself, Christy set to work preparing a batch of biscuits
as quietly as she could. Once she had taken them out of the oven, she
began frying the bacon and eggs.  As she stood over the stove and stirred
the scrambled eggs, she felt the tiny hairs on her neck and arms raise in
response to a presence appearing at her side.  A well-muscled arm reached
across the stove in front of her and snatched a biscuit.  Glancing up at
the food thief, she was not surprised to find Neil grinning devilishly at
her.


        “I can’t imagine a more pleasant way to wake up. . .and I don’t mean the
food.”


        Feeling herself flush, Christy looked back down at the eggs.  “Good
morning, Neil.  The eggs and bacon will be done soon.” 

 
        He didn’t move away from her as she had expected.  “Christy, I want to
tell you I’m sorry I growled at you last night.  I hope you can
understand I was just worried about your health.  I don’t want you sick,
but it’s not because you would be a burden to me if you were.”


        Discussing one’s feelings or apologizing was not typically an easy task
for the mountain men, including Neil MacNeill.  Although they had often
been close confidants, Neil often kept much of what he felt to himself,
sometimes to Christy’s chagrin.  Therefore, she couldn’t help but pay
attention when he spoke to her this way.  She knew the apology was
sincere.


        “I know.  You were tired.  It’s all right.”  Neil seemed satisfied that
the conversation had gone well and moved away from her to head toward the
table, sitting down at the far end.  “You look much more rested this
morning, but wasn’t the wood floor uncomfortable?”


        “No, I slept like a rock all night long.  Lying almost anywhere for more
than a few hours at a time seems like a luxury.”


        “Still, you should have said something.  The mission house has extra
beds, you know.”


        “Aye.  I didn’t know I’d stay the night until it happened, but I’ll be
sure to let you know the next time.”  He grinned at her, causing her to
blush again.


        She dished him a hearty helping of bacon, scrambled eggs, and biscuits
and placed it in front of him.  Serving herself a more modest plate, and
pouring them each cups of coffee, she sat down beside him at the table. 
David’s unusual absence from the meal was temporarily forgotten, as she
became lost in the thought that eating breakfast with Neil every morning
would be quite pleasant.


        “Christy?  Christy?”  Neil’s voice interrupted her reverie.


        “Yes, oh, sorry.”


        “I wondered if you were accustomed to asking the blessing or not?  I
must admit, I’m rather out of practice.”


        “Oh, I didn’t think you would want to, I mean. . .”


        “I know, but you’ve made me think about things I would have never
expected of myself.  That includes thinking about God and prayer.  Now,
would you like to ask the blessing, or shall I fumble my way through it?”


         “I will.”  She couldn’t help but smile in wonderment at him a moment
before finally bowing her head to say grace.  The thought that Neil was
turning to God was reason for joy.


        “Dear Father in Heaven, I thank you for this beautiful new day and for
the company with me at the table this morning.  I praise you for your
goodness to us and for the food which will nourish our bodies.  In Jesus
Name, Amen.”


        Neil smiled at her and dug into his breakfast eagerly, as if nothing
extraordinary had just happened. Christy studied him a moment, marvelling
at the hand of God.  If Neil discovered the power of faith, she could
only imagine the wonderful blessings God could bring about through him. 
Realizing it would look strange to him if she didn’t start eating, she
scooped up a forkful of scrambled eggs and chewed.  Somehow they tasted
better than anything else she had ever eaten.


        Lost in thought, she didn’t respond as quickly to the kitchen door
opening as Neil.  When she looked up from her plate, she saw that he had
stiffened and was looking hard at whomever had entered.  She followed his
gaze to the equally hard stare David was returning to Neil.  Suddenly the
room was thick with tension and Christy felt compelled to interrupt the
mens’ showdown.  


        “David.  Let me dish you up a plate.  There’s coffee, too.”  She quickly
rose and made for the stove.  She shoved the heaping plate at David,
intent on giving him something other to do than just stand in the kitchen
like a statue.  Pouring him a cup of coffee, she pushed him toward the
table.  He moved reluctantly and she saw by this time that Neil had
returned with gusto to his breakfast, but his expression had soured. 
Christy wondered at the attitude of the two men toward each other.  They
had been rivals, certainly, but this level of animosity was new.  David,
on his behalf, seemed a bit uncertain as to the reason, but was content
enough to uphold his end by remaining silent toward Neil.  Then she
remembered the conversation she had had with Neil before leaving for
Asheville.  Could it be that Neil had yet to confront David?  David’s
shrug and nod toward Neil as he looked her way suggested this was true.


        “Thank you, Christy.  But why didn’t you tell me you were ready to serve
breakfast?  I was expecting you or Ruby Mae to call me when it was done.”


        A low grunt, sounding a bit like a growl, rumbled from Neil.


        “Just what is that supposed to mean, Doctor?”  David asked, barely
hiding his annoyance.


        “Nothing.  Nothing at all, Reverend.”


        Christy jumped in hurriedly.  “I’m sorry, David.  I wasn’t thinking.  I
guess with Miss Alice sick and. . .”


        Neil shot her a look.  “No, Christy.  Don’t apologize to him.”
        David seemed to ignore Christy, his focus on Neil.  “Surely, Doctor, you
must think I’m a fool if you think I can’t see that something’s bothering
you.  Come on, out with it.”


        His eyes aflame, Neil bellowed, “You are a fool, Reverend, especially if
you think Christy should be at your beck and call.  She deserves nothing
less than your respect and gratitude, though I’m doubting you’re man
enough to know it.  After what you’ve done to her, I should. . .”


        Loud pounding on the front door interrupted Neil’s tirade.  Still
glowering, Neil shoved his chair back, strode across the floor, and flung
open the door.  


        Bessie Coburn’s panicked look intensified when she saw the doctor’s
face.  


        “What is it, Bessie?” 


        “Doc, ya gotta come quick.  Pa’s awful sick.”


        “All right, Bessie.  Just let me get my gear.  I’ll follow you home. 
Bessie left in a flurry and Neil headed for the parlor to throw on his
shirt and coat and grab his saddle bags.  Remembering he hadn’t checked
on Alice yet that morning, he took the stairs two at a time to her room. 
 

        David gulped the rest of his meal and then got up from the table and
headed out the door to tend to some unknown chore, leaving Christy to sit
in silent amazement at what had just transpired.  


        Neil descended the stairs soon after. 


        “How is she?”  Christy asked quietly.


        “Doing as well as can be expected.”


        Realizing he was in a hurry and in no mood for conversation, she said,
“You’d better be on your way, Doctor.  The Coburns need you.”


        “Aye.  Christy, I’m sorry about breakfast.  I didn’t mean for that to
happen.”  He paused and she could see the rage building up in him again. 
“When I think about what he said to you. . .I lose all sense of myself.”

 
        She touched his arm reassuringly and spoke softly. “I know.  It’s all
right.”


        He attempted a strained smile and Christy smiled briefly back.  Slinging
his saddle bags over his shoulder, Neil exited the house and headed for
the stable to his horse.  Christy silently prayed David was nowhere in
sight, afraid that Neil would forget his mission of healing and decide to
bring the argument begun at the breakfast table to blows.




Chapter Ten


        "I don’t want any soup!"  Miss Alice shouted.


        "You know you need to get your strength back, Miss Alice.  Besides, it’s
broth."  Christy tried to remain patient with her mentor, but the woman’s
week in bed had brought out her temper.


        "Broth is soup.  Take it away."  


        "If you don’t eat this, you won’t rebuild your strength.  And if you
don’t get well, we’ll be forced to continue bringing soup for your meals.
 Please, just at least try it."  Christy attempted to reason with the
woman, but her patience was wearing thin.


        "No.  I’ve had more soup in one week than I’ve eaten in a lifetime."


        "Fine."  Christy bit back a harsher reply.


        "Ya can’t mortally force her to eat it, Miz Christy.  Never saw a body
hate soup more’n Miz Alice."  Ruby Mae entered the room with a fresh
pitcher of water.


        Christy latched onto the girl’s presence as a way to exit as graciously
as possible.  "Ruby Mae, could you sit with Miss Alice and see that she
eats some of this?  I need to. . .to go tend to something downstairs."


        "Yes ‘um.  But I reckon I won’t get nowheres neither."


        Christy leaned close to the girl’ ear.  "Just do your best, Ruby Mae." 
She patted the girl’s shoulder and headed for the door.


        A surly voice spoke up from the bed.  "I heard that, Miss Huddleston."
        Christy rolled her eyes as she escaped the room.  While jogging down the
stairs, she groaned in frustration.


        David spoke up from the chair where he was reclining in the parlor. 
"Miss Alice?"


        "Yes.  How could you tell?"  Christy asked him sarcastically.


        "Don’t know.  Perhaps the way your fists are clenched and your jaw is
set like you could do battle with someone any second,"  David teased.  He
stood and walked over to her.


        "Go ahead and laugh.  It’s easy for you.  You don’t have to bring soup
to her every few hours and go through the same argument."


        "That just means she’s getting better.  In a day or two she’ll be
downstairs eating possum surprise like the rest of us."


        "That’s supposed to make me feel better?" 

 
        "Yes,"  David said matter-of-factly.


        "You’re no help, David." 


        Christy turned to leave when David spoke up again, a hesitant tone in
his voice.


        "I wasn’t going to ask you this so soon, but I. . .I was wondering if
you would want to accompany me on a ride in the woods tomorrow morning? 
It’s quite beautiful with the snow. . .and it looks like you need a break
from nursing." 


        Christy gaped at David.  They had been civil toward each other for some
time, but he’d not made a gesture like this one since before they had
ended their courtship.  "David . . .I don’t know what to say."


        He stepped close to her, his eyes searching hers.  "Just say yes."


        She balked at the force of his gaze and stepped back.  "All right.  That
sounds like a good idea.  Getting away for awhile would probably do
wonders for my mood."


        He closed the distance between them again.  "Good.  I’m looking forward
to it already."


        She smiled apprehensively up at him and then glanced away.  The look in
his eyes brought back memories of the way he had once been with her.


        As Christy left David to begin supper, it occurred to her that spending
time alone with him might be a good idea, though her gut told her
differently.  It would be a chance to confront him about not only his
plans to leave Cutter Gap, but also to address the unresolved issue of
the letter he’d written to Dr. Ferrand.  By now Christy realized it was
likely he’d not sent the letter.  Surely Dr. Ferrand would have written
or called or even visited the mission by now to tell her the bad news
that she’d been fired.  Mail was often slow, but surely two months would
be enough time for the missionary to respond.  David’s decision to ignore
what he’d said in anger deeply concerned her.  He was clearly not dealing
well with the recent tragedies and disappointments in his life, and
Christy was determined not to let the opportunity to broach her concerns
go by.


                                * * *


        Dressed in her warmest layers early Saturday morning, Christy took a
quick look out her balcony window before heading downstairs.  An
overnight snowfall had transformed the landscape.  Smooth and white with
snow, the fields and hills merged with white-capped ranges in the
distance.  Already the clouds had moved off, allowing the dawn’s light to
capture the radiance of frosted evergreens.  Praising God for allowing
her to be witness to such beauty, Christy finished getting ready and
headed to Alice’s room to see if she felt well enough to join them for
breakfast downstairs.


        "Come in,"  Alice replied to Christy’s knock.


        "Miss Alice.  How are you this morning?"  She saw that she had dressed
and was sitting on the edge of the already made bed.


        "I feel as though I’ve been in bed for a month, not a week."  She said,
more than a hint of frustration in her voice.  "I feel fine," she added,
begrudgingly.


        "Do you think you’d be up to joining us for breakfast, then?" 

 
        "That is my intention," she smiled wearily.


        Christy and Alice headed for the stairs.  Christy noticed the woman
gripping the railing as she descended, but tried not to become too
alarmed.  She knew that lying in bed for a long time often made her feel
weak and realized Alice likely felt the same.


        "Why don’t you sit down while I make the oatmeal."


        Christy noticed she didn’t argue but chose the nearest chair at the
table.


        "David and I are planning to go horseback riding later on this
morning—well, horseback and muleback that is."


        "Is that so?"  Alice drew out the question with her voice, causing
Christy to look up from her preparations.


        "You don’t think it’s a good idea?"


        "Perhaps it is thee that does not."  Alice paused, holding Christy’s
gaze, before she went on.  "Thee must be careful.  A heavy snowfall is
beautiful, even harmless looking, but it also hides imperfections in the
trail which can be hazardous.  I trust thee and David will be wary of
what thee finds in thy way."


        Christy studied the enigmatic expression on her mentor’s face a moment
before turning back to the oatmeal.  Alice’s words lodged in her mind,
but their warning was ambiguous.  What could be dangerous about horseback
riding in the woods?


                                * * *


        "We’ll take Prince," David said finally, placing his hand on the horse’s
neck to emphasize his choice.


        Christy wanted to protest.  She’d agreed to go out riding with him
believing she would be on Theo and he would be on Prince.  Unfortunately,
the additional snow that had fallen during the night would make it
difficult for the older, shorter-legged animal to navigate through the
drifts.  David was adamant that only Prince could handle the snowy
terrain. Remembering Theo had once gotten stuck in the river while she
had been riding him was enough to convince her David was right.


        "Perhaps we should just go another time, when some of the snow melts."


        "No.  You need to get away, and this is the best escape I know.  Why do
you think I’ve been going out on Prince so often the past few months?"


        David’s casual reference to his mysterious trips surprised her, but it
seemed as if he were making a genuine effort to reach out to her.  Still,
the gut feeling remained.


        "Fine.  But maybe we should just go a little ways.  Prince will have a
difficult time, too.  Especially with the two of us on his back."
        "We won’t go too far."


        "Everything’s settled then."  Christy forced a smile.
        

                                * * *


        Astride Prince, Christy and David slowly made their way deep into the
forest.  Christy wanted to ask where they were headed, but wasn’t sure if
there was even a particular destination.  A part of her wanted to be
still and simply enjoy the beauty around her, though it was difficult to
sit serenely behind David.  Though she realized she’d never felt
completely comfortable with him, not in the way she often did with Neil,
now silences between them made her uneasy.  Trust in him had been lost.


        Prince’s hooves crunched rhythmically in the fresh, powdery snow. 
Peering around David’s side, Christy saw white puffs of air curling about
the horse’s nostrils as he worked his way over the rough terrain.  He
whuffled and nodded his head, reassuring Christy that he was enjoying the
exercise.  


        As they descended a steep slope, gravity pushed Christy against David,
and she found herself wrapping her arms more tightly around his waist for
balance.  Her cheek and ear pressed against his back during the steepest
section and she could hear his heart beating deep within his chest.  She
focused on the sound, faint but strong, as a way to distract her mind
from her discomfort.  When the trail finally leveled out, she realized he
had gripped her hand in his own, his gloved fingers interlaced with hers.
 Alarmed, she disentangled her fingers and pulled her hand back.  David
said nothing.


        They rode silently for about an hour, as if the snow-covered landscape
had cast a spell of silence over them.  A hush had fallen over
everything, even quieting the birds and squirrels.  


        The sound of David’s voice interrupted the quiet.  "Here we are."


        "Where’s here?"


        "Look, off to the right.  It’s an abandoned cabin I found a couple of
months ago.  It will give us a place to warm up a bit before we head back
to the mission."


        Christy followed the direction of his arm and found what he was pointing
at nestled within a grouping of large evergreen trees.  The log cabin was
not only protected by the huge pines, but a towering cliff behind it
blocked the north wind.  A clearing stretching out in front of the cabin
ended as a bluff overlooking a deep valley and mountain ranges beyond. 
It was an awesome sight and Christy dismounted quickly as soon as they
stopped in front of the cabin, eager to explore the scene further.


        "Oh, David.  It’s beautiful here.  I thought the view outside my bedroom
window was amazing, but this. . ."


        "I know.  I was surprised to find it too.  It’s unusual to find a cabin
set apart from other communities like this."


        "Not to mention placed to take advantage of the scenery.  You said the
cabin’s abandoned.  What happened to the people who lived here?"


        "Person, I think.  I don’t know, but it looks like it was a hunter’s
cabin.  He probably lived alone, maybe died and had no one to leave the
place to."


        "How awful for him."


        "I don’t know.  It wouldn’t be a bad life."


        "But with no one to talk to?"


        David took her elbow and led her toward the cabin.  "Let’s go in.  I
need to warm up."


        Christy found David was likely right about the former occupant’s way of
making a living.  Furs filled the dusty, neglected cabin, serving as
chair coverings, bedding, and rugs, and a rack of rifles near the door
confirmed the hunch.  It surprised her that no one had decided to claim
the hunter’s belongings for their own.  Though the one room cabin was
simply furnished, indicating the man was not wealthy, guns, furs, and
household items would be valuable in a place where people scratched out a
bare living.


        She watched David build a fire, noting how at ease he seemed about being
in a stranger’s cabin, as if he had been here many times before.  A part
of her was uncomfortable about intruding, though she knew the former
inhabitant was not going to come waltzing in the door any minute to
complain.


        Running her fingers over a luxurious fox fur draped over the back of a
chair, Christy knew now would be her best chance to ask David about their
discussion at the schoolhouse over two weeks before.  Steeling herself
for his response, she began, "David, we need to talk about those things
you said to me that day.  I need to know if you still want to leave
Cutter Gap."


        David sat silently in front of the fire for a long moment before he
ventured a reply.


        "Cutter Gap isn’t my home.  I’m a city boy at heart."


        "But David, what about God’s call on your life?  Surely. . ."


        "Don’t preach to me about God, Christy!  Once mother died I realized He
had no part in my decision to become a minister!"  He glared at her and
Christy gripped the chair back for support.  He turned away again and his
voice sounded muffled, as though he were gritting his teeth.  "I have
nothing to offer these people.  They refuse to listen.  What has my
preaching accomplished?  They still persist in brewing moonshine and
feuding.  There’s no hope for them."


        "Dr. MacNeill says the mountain people’s sense of time is slow.  Perhaps
that means we need to be more patient with them, and look for the small
victories, instead."


        "Dr. MacNeill is a heathen just like the rest of them!"  He stood and
faced her, his fists clenched at his sides.


        Her defenses roused, Christy’s voice rose to match David’s.  "No, David!
 He’s not.  Just the other day he asked me to say grace at breakfast.  Is
that the request of a man who doesn’t believe in God?"


        "No, it’s the request of a man who knows he can’t have the woman he
wants unless he pretends to share her religion,"  David shouted.


        She stared at him, astonished at the implication of his words. 
Suddenly, she could no longer stay in the cramped cabin with him and she
quickly headed for the door.  She ran as fast as she could through the
deep snow toward the edge of the hillside, stopping herself by gripping
the trunk of a poplar.  Breathless, she leaned against the rough bark,
thankful for its solid comfort.


                                * * *


        Neil MacNeill gave Charlie his head as the horse carefully picked his
way down a hill.  The path to Raven Gap had always been the most
difficult to traverse, and the new snow added to its various challenges. 
The loss of two patients to the recent outbreak of influenza weighed
heavily.  He’d arrived too late to avert the development of pneumonia in
both, one being a small child.  As he recalled the quiet way the boy had
left the world, he felt instantly weak.  The tears he normally was able
to keep at bay began to course down his cheeks.


        As the trail leveled off, he leaned against the neck of his horse and
prayed.  "Oh God, I’m lost.  I can’t find the good in this.  I want to
believe Christy.  I want to believe I can learn to see the beauty in your
creation, to see your love for me, but I’m confronted with sickness and
death and hatred every day.  I can’t do it on my own anymore.  I’m
helpless without you."


        He recalled the way the boy’s mother had held his hand between both of
hers to thank him for treating her son.  Through her tears she had
blessed him, told him he’d done the work of the Lord that day, but he had
been too lost in his own grief for her words to register at the time. 
Now the scene replayed in his mind as clearly as if he were reliving the
moment.  It struck him that this was what he was to look for, the spark
of light in the gray.


        He raised his head from Charlie’s neck and settled back onto the saddle,
surprised at how clear everything seemed to him now.  It was as if
someone had lifted the oppression away from his heart.  Even the
landscape appeared more sharply defined.  Under his breath, Neil thanked
God, knowing there could be no other explanation than that of answered
prayer.  


        His horse had stopped walking after receiving confusing signals from his
master, and now the animal nickered in query, as if wondering if he was
to continue on down the trail.  Neil chuckled and prepared to urge his
horse onward, when movement several yards ahead caught his eye.  With a
quick sweep of his eyes, he took in the cabin and the figure of a woman
standing by a tree near the edge of a cliff.  A tall man came out of the
cabin and approached her.  The last time he had gone by this place, it
was still abandoned.  Curious, he urged Charlie forward a few feet, but
then abruptly pulled back on the reins as the identity of the woman
became clear.  "Christy!"  



Chapter Eleven


        As her breathing slowed, Christy reached into her pocket to retrieve the
river stone.  If David could only understand what it meant to her, what
it surely had meant to Neil when he found it, perhaps he would realize
the doctor was not as lost as he imagined, nor his ministry in Cutter Gap
so pointless.  She turned the stone about with her fingers and let the
sun spark off the quartz.  But it didn’t seem to matter what she said to
David.  His mind was set concerning leaving Cutter Gap and she knew she
could not force him into staying.  Knowing her will for David may not be
God’s, she breathed a prayer that David would choose the path God wanted
him to take.


        She heard his deliberate steps coming up behind her.  He stopped and she
waited a moment before slowly turning to face his towering form.  
        "Christy?"


        She looked up at him, surprised at the tremble in his voice.


        "Christy, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have said those things.  I don’t know
what’s gotten in to me lately."


        "You’ve had a lot to deal with, David.  I only wish you could see me as
your friend and let me help you."


        "That’s the problem, Christy.  I want you as more than my friend.  Don’t
you see?  I’m the only man that shares your beliefs, the only man that
can give you all the things you deserve.  You won’t want to live here all
your life.  Eventually the hardship will make you long for the city, just
like me.  We’re the same, you and I.  You’re just too stubborn to see
it."  His voice rose in pitch and Christy shivered as goose flesh covered
her body.  His face displayed his zeal, and Christy could see he fully
believed he was right.   "You’re the only woman for me, Christy, and I
want you to reconsider being my wife.  Stop waiting for Dr. MacNeill to
become a believer. . .for him to get over Margaret.  It will never
happen."


        David grabbed the stone from Christy’s hand, and held it aloft between
his thumb and forefinger.  Christy could only stare at him in stunned
silence.  "This. . .this rock. . .it’s an illusion.  Whatever you see in
it will never happen.  If you didn’t have it, would you even entertain
the thought that Neil is still the right man for you?  I, for one, highly
doubt it."


        Christy watched in shock as he pulled back his arm and threw the stone
far over the edge of the precipice.  "David!  No!!"  She ran to the edge
of the cliff overlooking the valley and searched the horizon until she
found the tiny speck just at the moment it disappeared into a stand of
trees.


        She whirled back around and found him standing just a few feet away. 
His self-assured stance fed her anger, but with it came tears of
helplessness.  "David, how could you?  What did I do to deserve this?"
        Shaking her head in disbelief, she started back in the direction of the
cabin, though it didn’t matter where she went.  She simply wanted to be
far from him.  


        David quickly overtook her and seized her arm, pulling her to his chest.
 "You did nothing but make me love you, more than you know."  He bent to
kiss her, but she struggled against him, successfully avoiding his
insistent lips.


        "No!  David, stop it!  I don’t love you!"  She cried out as she pushed
against him, but she felt herself growing weaker while he increased in
strength.


        At the moment she felt her body give out, she felt fingers dig into her
back and pry David’s hand loose.  She saw his face contort with pain as
he cried out.   He staggered back, giving Christy a chance to see the
reason for his agony.  Neil, appearing out of nowhere, held David’s arm
firmly against the younger man’s back.


        "Christy, are you all right?"  Neil asked hoarsely, his eyes on fire.


        "Yes. . .I. . .I’m fine."  She answered weakly, but as soon as the words
escaped her lips she realized she was shaking uncontrollably.


        Neil, barely pausing to address Christy, returned his attention to an
obviously suffering David. With one swift, agile movement, he locked
David’s other arm behind his back, and holding both wrists in place with
one hand, he shoved him roughly against the nearest tree.


        He leaned in close to David’s ear, and in a low, menacing voice,
growled, "You are the worst excuse for a man I’ve ever known.  You are
void of honor, not to mention sense.  And as for Christy, what about her
refusal has you confused?  She said no and meant it the first time.  And
yet you threatened her with a letter that could cost her the job she
loves.  And, today, you attack her in the middle of nowhere.  Did you
think you’d get your way if there was no one around to hear her scream?" 
A wave of rage overwhelmed him and he adjusted the pressure he maintained
on David’s wrists.  The younger man winced and let out a shuddery groan.


        Christy watched the scene before her, horrified that it had come to
this.  Every muscle, nerve, and joint in her body had locked, rooting her
to the ground.


        Neil spoke heatedly.  "I should tear you limb from limb, but I don’t
think you’d get the message!  Stay away from Christy!  And if I find out
you sent that damned letter, you’d better believe Ferrand will know what
happened here today.  Now, when I let you go, you will apologize to her,
on your knees, and you will be truly sorry if you don’t.  I’ll not let
you force yourself or your judgments on her any longer.  Is that clear,
Grantland?"


        David nodded as best he could considering his cheek was plastered
against tree bark and a pained moan the closest he could come to
answering out loud.


        Neil released David and stepped away, breathing heavily more from anger
than exertion.  He planted himself off to the side between David and
Christy, a stalwart guardian who remained acutely watchful of the enemy.


        David groaned and gingerly moved his arms back to their normal
positions.  His face registered his lingering pain as he rubbed the
muscles in his arms.  He turned to face Neil slowly, and Christy saw his
expression darken, his eyes pool into blackness.  When he finally spoke,
his quiet, unwavering tone sent chills through her body.  "Doctor, if
your opinion carried any weight with me, I might take your threat into
consideration.  As it is, this matter is entirely between myself and
Christy.  You, MacNeill, are deluding yourself, if you think you have any
authority here.  I suggest you go back to your cabin, grab your fishing
poles, and go do something useful with them.  Christy and I have
unfinished business."


        Incensed, Neil shouted, "The man that’s deluded here is you, Grantland! 
What will it take for you to see the light?"


        David rejoined.  "Do you want to fight me for her?  Is that it?"


        Incredulous, Neil groaned.


        "What?  That is what this is about, isn’t it?  It’s been about this ever
since Christy came to Cutter Gap.  Or are you going to tell me our
rivalry has only been about faith—or your lack of it?"


        "I’ll not deny my interest in Christy’s welfare affected our arguments,
Grantland, but not in the way you imagine.  I doubted you were the right
man for her from the beginning."


        "And so you deny your feelings for her even now?"


        "My feelings for Christy are none of your business, man!"


        "And my feelings for her are none of yours!"


        "Stop it!  Please, stop!"  Christy cried, but her pleas fell on deaf
ears as the men stared hard at each other, poised to attack.


        David spoke up again through clenched teeth.  "I think I told you to
leave, MacNeill."


        "I’ll not leave her alone with you."  Neil’s brogue rumbled in its
lowest register.  Fearful that David would indeed find a way to get Neil
to leave, Christy latched onto the dark comfort of his words.


        Her eyes had remained riveted to the two men, but she couldn’t be sure
who made the first move.  They lunged and locked together.   Both threw
blunted punches, unwilling to step apart for fear of losing hold of their
adversary. 


        Christy screamed at them to stop as their battle spun ever closer to her
and the edge of the bluff.  Trees and their flailing bodies blocked her
escape.


        Though still somewhat entangled with his opponent, Neil managed a direct
hit to David’s jaw and the preacher staggered back from the impact. 
David threw his own punch, but Neil blocked his arm and struck him with a
swift uppercut, sending David sprawling into the snow.  Dazed, David
stayed on the ground.


        Christy breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it was over.  She glanced at
Neil but saw that he remained locked in position, and when she looked
back at David she knew the reason why.  Recovered from Neil’s powerful
stroke, he now stood and prepared to attack.  David hauled back and,
managing to elude Neil’s block, delivered his own devastating blow.  Neil
fell heavily backward against Christy, the full force of his weight
knocking her off balance.  She tumbled across the snowy ground toward the
edge of the bluff.  Her fingers grappled with powdery snow, but, unable
to find a handhold, she fell down the steep slope.  A scream caught in
her throat as she slid several feet down the rocky incline, stopped by
the friction of her body scraping against the rough terrain.  Finally the
scream escaped.


        She saw David staring down at her first, looking horrified.  Then, Neil
crawled toward the edge, his eyes and hair wild.  "Christy!  Lass, don’t
worry.  There’s rope in the cabin.  Hang on!"  He disappeared from her
field of vision, but David remained.


        "Christy!  Oh God,  I never meant for this to happen!" 


        She felt sorry for him, despite her predicament.  His countenance held
such pain.  But then his face lifted in a moment of inspiration.


        "I’m going to reach my hand down to you and pull you up.  My arms are
long enough."  He lay hurriedly down in the snow and leaned over the
edge.


        "It’s too risky, David.  Please, wait for Neil."


        "No!  I need to help you.  Give me your hand."  His eyes were wildly
desperate, pleading, and his fingers so close, she thought that maybe, if
she reached up, she’d be able to grasp his hand.  Gingerly, she moved her
hand toward David’s outstretched arm, feeling each edge and dent of the
rock face with her fingers.  His fingers were so close, but her arms not
long enough to reach.  As she tried to push herself up to meet his hand,
her hold on the rocks loosened, and she slid, shrieking, farther down the
hill.  When she recovered her grip and looked up, she cried out in
terror.  She’d fallen more than twenty feet down the steep hillside and
neither David nor Neil were anywhere to be seen.


        Afraid David had slipped off the edge as well, she tried to look about
her.  "David?!  David!"  


        She heard Neil’s angry voice.


        "Stand back, man!  You’ll not redeem yourself by killing her!"


        "Christy!  He’s up here.  He’s all right."  Neil shouted down to her and
she looked up to see him holding a coil of rope in his hands.  He formed
a permanent loop on the end and began to lower the rope to her slowly. 

 
        "Oh, Neil!  Thank God!  Help me!"


        He yelled down to her again, his voice reassuring and firm.  "Christy,
this will all be over soon, I promise ye!  Now listen to me.  I want you
to pull the loop over your head and arms so that it rests under your
shoulders."  She did as he instructed, hanging on to the rope all the
while to keep herself from sliding farther.  Then she grasped the length
above the loop knot with both hands and awaited further instructions. 
"Now that’s just for leverage.  You must hang on tightly.  Are you
ready?"  She nodded, unable to muster more than a strangled cry of
relief, but he seemed to understand.  


        Her body scraped against the rock face going up, but her thick coat
blunted the sharpness of the stones.  She was able to use an occasional
foothold to help push her farther upward, but she knew her small effort
was no substitute for Neil’s strength.


        As she neared the top, Neil reached down and grabbed her arms, pulling
her up and over the lip of the bluff.  She collapsed into his arms as he
slumped against a tree, and they stayed that way, silent and exhausted,
for a long moment.


        She heard Neil’s voice reverberate in his chest.  "It’s all right,
Grantland.  She’s safe now."  Neil wrapped his arms protectively around
her.


        David’s boots crunched in the snow as he walked away from them.  Then,
it was just herself and Neil, the sound of their breath the faintest
whisper before the immense stillness of the mountains. 


                                * * *


        The cabin had warmed up considerably once Neil and Christy arrived
inside.  David’s fire burned hot and was welcoming to their chilled and
bruised bodies.  Neil helped Christy over to the bed and she sank onto
the furs, her mind spinning from what had just occurred.  She kept her
hold on his forearms, needing his presence, and he didn’t pull away.  She
looked up at Neil and saw the deep concern in his eyes.  She quickly
surveyed his torn and rumpled clothing, bruised face, and wild hair. 
Simply looking at the evidence of his struggle verified her own,
untapping a spring of tears.  In the blur, she felt rather than saw him
sit beside her and gather her in his arms.  He rocked slowly back and
forth, rubbing her back, letting her tears wet his hair and trickle down
his neck.  


        "Neil, all I kept thinking was that I would never see you again.  I
couldn’t stand the thought.  Oh, Neil!  I don’t ever want to lose you."


        "Shhh.  Hush, lassie.  It’s all right.  I’m here.  You haven’t lost me."
 He whispered urgently in her ear.


        "Hold me tighter."  She could feel his solid form pressed against her,
his strong arms encircling her body, but even his fierce embrace was not
enough.


        "I am, Christy.  I’m holding you."  


        Only when he had crushed her to his chest, nearly preventing her from
breathing, did she begin to truly feel his presence protecting her, the
assurance slow to overcome the fear.


        "Christy, I’ve never been so frightened in my life, but you must believe
me, I knew you weren’t about to die.  I wouldn’t let you, but neither
would God.  He told me, Christy.  He told me what to do.  I don’t know
how, but tis the truth."


        "I believe you."


        His heat permeated through her clothes, warming her skin.  But soon she
felt a tremor begin deep inside, as if the terror that had settled in her
chest was being shaken out of her body.  Neil felt it.


        "Christy!  You’re trembling.  Are you all right?"  He pulled away and
studied her closely.  


        Her teeth began chattering as she tried to answer him.  "I d-don’t know
w-why, Neil.  I can’t ss-stop it."


        Neil’s brow furrowed.  "You’re in shock.  Not to mention chilled to
bone, I’d wager.  I should have known.  Christy, you need to get warm
right away.  I want you to take off your wet coat and boots and climb
under these furs.  I’ll just go out and get my medical bag.  I haven’t
even checked you for scrapes or bruises.  What have I been thinking?"  He
shoved his hand through his hair roughly and pulled at the ends.  "I’ll
be back."


        She watched him rush out the door before attempting to do as he asked. 
She struggled with the buttons of her coat, but noticed several were
missing anyway.  For the first time she realized she must look a sight. 
She noted several tears in her skirt, dirt stains on her coat, and scuffs
on her shoes.  Finally shrugging out of her tattered coat, she bent over
to untie her boots, but the laces were sodden and frayed.  Her clumsy,
bruised fingers battled with them to no avail.  A cold blast of air
signaled Neil’s return.


        "Christy.  You’re not under the covers, yet."  He walked quickly toward
the bed and set his medical bag on the floor.


        "I know.  I can’t get these laces."


        "Let me."  Neil knelt down in front of the bed and took one foot in his
hand.


        "Oh, Neil, you shouldn’t."


        "And why not, Christy?"  He looked up at her, his laugh lines crinkling
in amusement.


        "Well. . .t-they’re so dirty,"  she said lamely.


        He held her gaze while he removed her first boot and set it aside.  "I
hadn’t noticed."  He glanced down just long enough to locate the other
foot and begin to work on the wet, knotted lace.


        Christy couldn’t look away from his eyes, those blue eyes that could
hold her like an embrace.   She gasped once she realized he was rubbing
and kneading her foot.


        "Oh, Neil!  What are you doing?"  She jerked her leg back, but he caught
her ankle.


        "Don’t fight me now, woman.  Your feet are ice.  I have half a mind to
rub every inch of you, so be still."


        She bit her tongue and tried to relax into his ministrations, but the
chills that kept coursing through her body kept her muscles tense.  


        "There now.  Let’s get you under these furs and warmed up." 


        She took his proffered hand to help her stand, but aching muscles
protested.  She’d been able to walk inside with Neil’s help, but now her
body cried out against its abuse.  Neil caught her in his arms when she
began to fall back into the bed.  With his support, she finally found the
ability to stand shakily.  Neil held her against his chest with one arm
and reached out with the other to turn back the covers.  Settling her
back onto the bed, Neil pulled the musty bear fur up to her chin.  She
was grateful once again for his strength and wanted to tell him so.  But
her shivering body wouldn’t stop and she could barely trust herself to
talk.  Later, she thought, later I’ll tell him.


        "There now.  I’ll examine you for any injuries you might have from your
fall later.  It’s more important that you get warm, first.  Try to rest,
Christy."  He had become the doctor.


        Neil took her coat and boots and  walked around to the foot of the bed
toward the fireplace.  He set them before the fire to dry.   Then he
removed his own coat and boots and began to check himself for scrapes and
bruises.


        As Christy slowly began to feel warmth and quiet return to her body, it
occurred to her she lived due to Neil’s budding faith.  This couldn’t
wait.  "Doctor?"


        "Yes, Miss Huddleston?"  His eyes smiled at her from across the room.


        "I’m glad you believed."


        He glanced away and Christy worried she had assumed too much.


        But his eyes were wet when he returned her gaze, his voice hoarse with
emotion.  "Aye.  Do you think I’d trust just anyone with your life?"





Chapter Twelve

        Alice sat in the mission parlor trying to concentrate on her devotions,
but her thoughts kept turning to David and Christy and their horseback
ride—and also Neil, though she wasn’t certain of the connection.  Neil,
after all, was away checking on flu patients in Raven Gap.  She just knew
something wasn’t right.  Realizing the Holy Spirit was leading her to
pray, she set aside her Bible and bowed her head.
        Something still wasn’t right.  The parlor was too stuffy, her chair
lumpy and hard.  She fought against the idea that she should go pray in
the schoolhouse.  Surely she could get the job done here, but the feeling
was more insistent.  Sighing heavily, she reluctantly went in search of
her winter coat and boots.  
        As she trudged through the snow, she tried to quench the thought that
being out in the cold so soon after her illness was unjust.  ‘Thee knows
best, Lord,' she thought, wearily.  The sharp air stung her sensitive
nose, and her weakened leg muscles struggled to navigate through the
drifts.  Nothing was more welcoming than the sight of the school steps
within her reach.  
        Inside, the chairs had already been arranged into rows, the school
trappings pushed into the corners and the room prepared for worship. 
Christy was diligent about cleaning every Friday and asking her students
to help prepare the room for service.  Again her heart was nudged to pray
for Christy.  After lighting the stove, Alice settled into one of the
chairs near a window where the winter sun warmed her spirit and prayed
and waited.

                                * * *
        Given the woman nestled in front of him on Charlie’s back, Neil should
have been happy.  But he couldn’t shake the knowledge that her fall had
been just as much his fault as David’s.  He also faced the difficult task
of wrapping his mind around her desire to find David to see if he was all
right.  David had attacked her just hours before, nearly caused her
death, and yet, she worried about him.  Neil wasn’t sure if it meant she
was a rare woman or that she’d had a sudden spell of amnesia.  Her soft
voice interrupted his thoughts.
        "Neil?"
        "Yes, Christy?"
        "David threw the stone you gave me over the cliff," she said, her voice
breaking.
        "Is that what it was?  Christy, it’s just a rock.  It can’t hold a
candle to your life."
        "I know.  It. . .it just meant a lot to me.  I took it everywhere."
        Neil swallowed hard.  He hadn’t realized she’d carried that simple rock
around with her, had nearly forgotten he’d given it to her amidst the
barrage of flu patients he’d recently treated.  But it had meant
something to him, as well.  "I’ll find ye another one, if you like," he
offered tentatively.
        "Thank you, but it just wouldn’t be the same."  She fell silent but her
hand found his and squeezed slightly.  Neil interlaced his fingers with
hers and held her hand tightly, and she didn’t pull away.

                                * * *
        Alice jumped at the sound of the schoolhouse doors crashing open. 
Whirling about in her seat, she saw the tattered and distraught form of
the mission preacher.  He didn’t seem to notice her, but staggered down
the aisle and fell on his knees at the altar.  
        "Oh God!  Oh God!  What have I done?  I could’ve killed her!"  
        Did he mean Christy?  Alarmed, Alice abruptly stood.  Her head spun at
the sudden motion and she gripped the chair in front of her a moment
until the blackness faded.  Then she walked toward the altar and cleared
her voice.  Lost in his grief, he didn’t hear her. "David?"
        His head snapped up at her voice, and when he looked at her, she saw
that his eyes were red and his face flushed from sobbing.  She also noted
a cut on his lip and a bruise along his jaw.
        "David?  Where is Christy?  I thought she was with thee."  She tried not
to assume the worst, but David’s expression and the condition of his
clothes caused her stomach to churn.
        "Doctor MacNeill. . .He saved her after I. . .after I hit him and he
fell on her. . .she fell down the hill.  She might’ve died and all I
cared about was myself."  David wrapped his hands behind his head and
crouched low to the floor.  A strangled and muffled wail emerged from his
body.
        Alice felt the bile rise to her throat but fought against the urge to be
sick.  The thought that Christy had been in danger while she had been
praying for her, overwhelmed her.  She was grateful for the intervention
of God, but the thought that she had nearly lost another daughter was too
much.  She blinked back her own tears, knowing God must have wanted her
here for David.
        "MacNeill is right.  I couldn’t be a worse excuse for a man.  I’m glad
he found us.  I don’t know what I would’ve done. . . ."  David’s words
ended in a sob.
        Alice silently prayed for the right words as she sat on the platform
step near David.   She knew that whatever had occurred that day had been
the culmination of a struggle in David’s heart that had been building for
some time.  "Thee is a man, David, plain and simple.  Thee is no better
and no worse than Neil MacNeill.  But thy pride and thy selfishness has
blinded thee of late.  Thee has been in a battle with thine own will. 
But, David, so have I at times, so has Christy Huddleston, and, yes, so
has Neil MacNeill.  Everyone of us must learn to turn away from our flesh
and listen to the spirit that dwells within.  Our loving Father wants
more for us than pain and uncertainty.   He wants to be real to us, and
not just a subject taught in seminary or preached on Sunday.   Once thee
gave Him thy heart.  Now He is asking for the rest of thyself. . .thy
mind, thy spirit, and thy body."
        "Alice, I shouldn’t even be in the ministry.  I can’t even live what I
preach.  It’s too late for me."  
        "It is not too late!"  Alice spoke sharply.  "Self-pity never tells thee
the truth."  Alice paused and held David’s gaze. "David, thee feels as
though thee has fallen from a great height, that God is far above thee,
unreachable in the depth of thy grief, but thee must know it is Jesus’
arms waiting to catch thee.  Does thee think a man is strong or good
simply because he is righteous?  No, David, thy strength will come when
thee admits thy weaknesses.  Jesus longs to be the one and only answer to
whatever pains thee.  He will lift thee beyond thy wildest imaginings, if
thee will only accept His great love for thee."
        Alice saw a glimmer of hope behind David’s eyes and knew her words had
reached him.  She reached out her hand and squeezed his shoulder as David
covered his face with his hands and once more bent over his knees.

                                * * *
        Neil saw the mission property on the rise, but it was Christy who spoke
up first.
        "There, Neil.  He’s at the school."  Christy pointed, but Neil didn’t
need to follow the line of her arm to see the mission schoolhouse looming
on the horizon, nor the evidence that David was inside in the form of his
horse waiting in front.
        He felt Christy stiffen against him and wondered if she was as concerned
about approaching David again as he was.  On his part, he would have
liked David to leave Cutter Gap that very day and never return. 
Reluctantly, he steered Charlie toward the school and helped Christy
dismount.  He lagged behind her on the steps, but then thought better of
it.  He reached for her wrist to stop her.
        "Christy, let me go first."  Neil wasn’t sure what state David would be
in when they entered, but he didn’t want to take any chances.  
        Christy nodded but didn’t say anything.  Her eyes were level with his,
her face so close he could see his own reflection in them, but there was
something else in those blue eyes that expressed so much, a hint of fear.
  As if sparked by her fear, fresh anger blazed in his belly.  In his
instinctive desire to protect her, he gripped her arms.  "He’ll not harm
you, Christy.  I’ll not let him."
        She clutched a handful of his coat as she leaned into his embrace. 
"Thank you."
        He couldn’t bear the desperation evident in her small, rigid form as he
held her or the way she had breathed her gratitude, as if she thought
herself alone in this task.  This woman could break him and mend him all
within a single day.  He wanted to lift her into his arms and ride off to
his cabin with her, to keep her from any more pain.  Instead he just held
her more tightly.
        He held her hand as he led the rest of the way up the stairs, pausing in
front of the doors.  With a heavy sigh, and against his better judgment,
he opened them and stepped through.  He stopped at the scene before him. 
Alice had her arm around David’s shoulder as they kneeled in front of the
altar.
        Christy stepped up from behind.  "What is it?"  She paused at the sight
of David in such a vulnerable position.  She looked up at Neil and his
heart sank when he realized she meant to go to him.  She wiggled her hand
loose and started down the aisle.  Neil could only watch her go.  She
knelt down on the other side of David, placing her hand on his arm to let
him know she was there.  He saw David start at her touch and turn toward
her.
        "Christy!  Oh, Christy!  Thank God!  Are you all right?"
        "Yes, David.  I’ll be fine.  Will you?"  Neil could see it, see the same
compassion in her eyes that had been there so many times before, for him,
for Alice, for one of the children, for anyone hurting or in trouble,
even from where he stood, he could see her light.
        David sobbed.  "I’m so sorry, so sorry.  I never meant to hurt you. 
I’ve been such a fool for so long.  I’ve done nothing but cause you pain.
 I’m so ashamed.  Christy, will you ever find it in your heart to forgive
me?"
        "Of course, David, of course I forgive you."  David pulled her fiercely
into an embrace as if she were his only lifeline.
        Every muscle in Neil’s body tensed in readiness to dash across the floor
and tear David from her, but he saw Christy’s tears, the way she stroked
David’s hair like a little child.  Neil exhaled heavily and unclenched
his fists.  It wasn’t so much that she was holding another man—he could
make no claims on her heart—but just hours before he’d fought that very
man.  She’d needed his protection then.  And now, in her astonishingly
remarkable way, she had transformed the man who had threatened her job,
her honor, her very life, into a person deserving of her understanding
and forgiveness.  She’d done the same with Margaret, though he knew
Margaret had treated her cruelly as she had everyone else he cared about.
 And how could he forget Jarvus Tatum?  His head was spinning with these
changes.  He turned away, running a hand roughly through his hair and
holding the ends tightly between his fingers.  Out of the corner of his
eye he saw Alice coming toward him.
        "I’ll not stand by and watch this, Alice."  His throat caught on the
words, betraying his emotion to the ever observant missionary.
        "Christy loves thee, Neil, not David."
        His throat tightened so that he couldn’t speak.
        Alice noted his struggle to control his emotion.  "I suspect thee loves
her as well."
        "Aye,"  he nodded toward the two people still locked in an embrace,  ".
. . and so help me, that’s why I do."  He looked at Alice fully, and she
didn’t even flinch from the force of his gaze.  Instead he noted the
shine of love in her eyes.  For him?  For Christy?  "But, I’m not of the
mind to stay, Alice.  Please, tell her. . .tell her I had to leave."
        "Neil." 
        "Please, Alice, I have to go."  Neil spoke abruptly and stepped out into
the twilight.  He didn’t dare look back.  He knew if he caught her gaze,
Christy’s eyes would never let him go.

                                * * *
        Christy stood on the schoolhouse steps, her coat wrapped tightly about
her, for what must have been the thousandth time, watching her children
disappear into the distance.  But though her eyes looked out at the
snow-covered fields and mountains, she did not see them.  Instead a tear
trailed down her cheek and another threatened to come.  She hadn’t
realized how deeply it hurt that Neil had left the church without saying
goodbye, without any explanation. . .not until every moment she had for
reflection in the past week reopened the wound as if it had been freshly
made.
        "Christy?"  Alice waited patiently for a response while she stood by the
young schoolteacher’s side.
        "Oh, Miss Alice.  I didn’t see you come up the stairs.  I’m sorry, I was
just watching the children leave.  I guess it just made me emotional." 
Christy harshly wiped at her wet cheeks.
        "I’d say they’ve been out of thy sight for some time.  I know they are
dear to thee, but I doubt that is what has made thee cry."
        Christy looked away and shook her head, but said, "And why shouldn’t I
cry over them?  They deserve someone’s compassion."
        Alice sighed.  "Then thee would be right to shed some tears for them,
but thee has not been despondent this entire week over thy children. 
Christy, thee has been waiting for the right time, but I would hate to
see thee wait so long that it passes thee by."
        "What?  What do you mean?"  Christy shot Alice a confused look.
        Alice merely returned the stare and let the heavy silence between them
reveal her meaning.  When she finally saw that Christy understood, she
went on.  "I believe the time for healing has ended and the time for love
has begun.  I tend to agree with Solomon that there is a time for every
purpose under heaven.  Surely thee has known thyself, but concern for
others has always been where thee sacrifices the most.  David is on the
mend.  And as for Neil, do not mistake his leaving last Saturday evening
for anything other than what it was— discomfort over the idea of the
woman he loves consoling another man, especially the one he had so
recently needed to protect thee from.  Neil may be a fine doctor and a
good man, but when it comes to thee, he is more vulnerable than he likes
to admit.  Perhaps it is thee that must assure him all is well between
thee."
        "But, Miss Alice, what do I tell him?"  
        Alice laughed softly.  "Must I tell thee, Miss Huddleston?"
        Christy’s face flushed, but she laughed along with her mentor.          "You’re
right, Miss Alice.  Thank you, thank you so much!"  As though released,
Christy touched Alice’s arm in farewell and raced across the yard to the
stables.  She nearly plowed into David as she darted through the door.
        "Whoa!  Not so fast.  What’s the rush?"
        "David, I’ve got to saddle Theo and get to Neil’s,"  she said
breathlessly.
        David paused, and Christy saw that he had grown thoughtful.  "Why don’t
you take Prince, Christy?  You’ve become quite the horsewoman, lately,
and don’t pretend otherwise.  One of these days we’ll have to get you a
horse of your own."  David flashed her a smile. 
        Christy’s brow knit together in confusion.  "But you won’t be here,
David."
        "I’m staying, Christy, at least for awhile.   I have a lot to learn
that these mountain people can teach me.  You and Alice convinced me that
God wanted me here all along.  Now, I believe you were in a rush to get
to MacNeill’s.  I’ll have Prince ready for you in no time."  David spoke
matter-of-factly as he pulled the bridle over Prince’s ears and settled
the bit into the horse’s mouth.
        "Thank you, David.  That’s very kind of you."  Christy couldn’t help
grinning from ear to ear.  This was the old David come back to her, the
friend who had helped her get through her first frightening weeks as a
schoolteacher in a backwoods mission.  The man with a divine call on his
life to love and lead the mountain people in faith.
        As David helped her mount Prince, he caught her hand, causing Christy to
flinch.  But when she looked at him, she saw nothing but kindness in his
warm brown eyes.  "Godspeed, Christy."
        She could do nothing but return his supportive squeeze.  As Prince
galloped across the snow-covered field, the joy of the mountains filled
her heart.

                                * * *
        Christy stood on Neil’s porch, winded from her ride, but suddenly
uncertain about the wisdom of her decision.  What would Neil think of her
boldness?  Remembering she had David and Alice’s blessings, she took a
deep breath, stepped forward, and knocked hesitantly on the door.  She
heard his footsteps coming closer, and with each step her heart beat
faster.  She considered darting back down the steps, but was rooted to
the spot when Neil opened the door.  She could hear the delight in his
voice.  "Christy!"
        She thought he had never looked more handsome.  His hair had been
brushed until its waves shone even in the filtered light of evening.  He
wore a blue plaid flannel she had not seen before that deepened the color
of his eyes..  The sight of him rendered her speechless.
        Neil’s brow wrinkled in worry at her silence.  "Christy, what brings you
all the way out here?"
        Realizing he had asked her something, she found her voice.  "An
unfinished conversation, if you will recall."
        His brow furrowed in thought a moment, but then he grinned widely. 
"Aye, I do recall.  Unfortunately, we were rudely interrupted."
        She blushed and lowered her eyes at the intensity of his gaze.  "Well,
then, can I come in?"  She spoke softly, suddenly feeling shy.  
        "Of course, I’m still intensely interested in what you wanted to tell me
that day."  Christy felt herself redden more deeply.  He stepped aside
and let her pass.
        She walked slowly about the room, mechanically removing her gloves and
unbuttoning her coat, all the while intent on avoiding his eyes.  Running
her hand across the mantle, she found his pipe.  She lifted it down,
suddenly needing something else to do with her hands.  She felt Neil step
up behind her and, reaching around, he gently took the pipe away, setting
it back in its place.  "May I take your coat, Miss Huddleston?"  He
whispered in her ear.  
        A trembling Christy nodded slightly and soon felt his gentle hands take
her winter coat by the collar and draw it down off her shoulders.  She
heard him toss it into a chair and started at the sound.
        He caught her arm, turning her around to face him and pulling her close.
 As her breath caught in her throat, she remembered he’d held her just
this way at the schoolhouse that day.  He smelled clean, like new fabric
and soap, with just a hint of lingering tobacco.  His fingers caressed
the back of her arm gently, sending shivers over her skin.
        "You were about to say something, after admitting you would miss me, I
believe, Miss Huddleston."  His voice was low, barely above a whisper.
        Christy couldn’t meet his eyes, but instead looked at his lips moving,
the line of his jaw, his throat, then the vee of skin that ended at the
second button of his shirt.  Why did he have to make this so hard?  
        Neil touched her chin with his finger and tilted her face to look fully
into her eyes.  "Tell me, Christy,"  he said, huskily.
        He had caught her gaze and she could no longer look away.  "Neil, I. .
.I wanted to say. . .I wanted to tell you. . .that I love you. . .so
much.  I can’t go another day without telling you.  If you don’t love me,
I. . .I’ll understand.  But I’ve loved you for so long. . .I can’t stop."
        "Hey now."  He brushed a tear away with his thumb that had fallen down
her cheek.  "Don’t put words in my mouth, lass.  This is my fault.  I
shouldn’t have left the other day.  Christy, can you forgive a foolish,
stubborn Scot his pride?"
        She nodded slightly, uncertain what he was trying to tell her.
        "Christy,"  his voice speaking her name was like water over stones. 
"I’ll not have you doubting what I’ve hoped you would see in me for so
long.  I love you like no other.  More deeply than I can say.  I have
loved you for so long, you are a part of my very soul.  I don’t intend to
ever stop."  He drew her face close and kissed her forehead gently.  
        Christy closed her eyes at the touch of his soft, warm lips.  When she
opened them he was looking at her with a fire in his eyes she knew she
had seen before. 
        "My love, tell me I don’t have to wait any longer."
        Moved that he would ask, Christy did not feign ignorance.  "No, don’t
wait, Neil."
        He bent toward her upturned face and claimed her lips without hesitancy,
fully and deeply.  She leaned into him, a wellspring of urgency untapped
in her own heart.  He pulled her closer, pressing her body to him,
kissing her hungrily, until she felt engulfed in his solid form, wrapped
in the warmth of him, her own fire mingling with his.
        Neil pulled away slowly, keeping his eyes riveted to hers, catching a
glimpse of newly released passion in her eyes.  "You captivate me,
Christy Huddleston."
        Christy pushed away, averting her gaze.  She’d never felt so much for
one man.  She’d not known such depths of feeling were possible.  "Neil. .
.I . . ."
        "Christy, I’m sorry.  I’ve frightened you."
        "No,"  she looked up at him, "no, I’m frightening myself."  She smiled
at him nervously.
        Neil grinned and drew her close once again.  "Don’t worry, lass, I’ll
not let you get too carried away."
        "But, Neil. . ."  
        He stopped her protests with his mouth, thoroughly kissing her until she
relaxed into his embrace.  And even then he lingered.  When he withdrew
at last, she buried her head in his chest, and closed her eyes.  She was
glad he held her so tightly because she knew she couldn’t trust her legs
to keep her upright.  She felt his lips press against the top of her
head.
        "You’ve made me a very happy man, Miss Huddleston."  He felt the muscles
of her face forming a smile against his chest.
        "And, you, Dr. MacNeill, have made me a very happy woman."  Neil grinned
into her hair in response.  
        In the dim light of the cabin, bathed in the heat of a roaring fire, the
two met once again in a lover’s embrace.  Outside, long, blue shadows of
twilight stretched across the snowy ground, ushering in the night.  A
full moon glowed on the eastern horizon.


Postscript

        The green flush of spring had come to the mountains.  Christy and Neil
walked hand in hand along the banks of the swollen river, watching the
sun spark off the water.  Neil flashed Christy a smile and her heart
leapt.  She’d found herself smiling quite often in the past few months,
and today was no exception.  Ever since a late January evening in a
certain red-headed doctor’s cabin, her world had overflowed with
happiness.  But now her smile faded somewhat and Neil noticed.
        "What’s the matter, Christy?"
        "Oh, nothing really.  I just wondered why you never told me how you
felt, until I came to your cabin that day, I mean."
        "Believe me, Christy, I wanted to many times."  He paused as if
remembering one of those moments.  "I guess I had to know I was the only
man you could ever love."  He stopped walking and took her hand in both
of his.  "And I had to know I might be worthy of the kind of love I’ve
seen in you from the beginning.  Do you know what a powerful teacher you
are, Christy?  You changed this bitter man into someone who can see light
in a wee stone and take joy in it."  He brought her fingers to his lips
and kissed them gently, while holding her gaze.  "I couldn’t see beyond
the gray before you.  I’ll never forget that lesson."
        "You were a good student, one of my best."  She tried to sound teasing,
but couldn’t prevent the emotion from creeping into her voice.  
        "What about you, Christy?  What kept you from my doorstep for so long?"
        She felt her cheeks flush from embarrassment when she admitted,
sheepishly, "A lack of faith."
        He laughed.  "Ah, Christy, love."  He drew her into a hearty embrace. 
"Not you, lass.  Your faith moves mountains.  You move me."  He grew
serious as he looked down on her upturned face resting on his shoulder. 
"I found something the other day.  I want you to have it."
        She drew back and studied his enigmatic expression.  "What is it?" 
Seeing him grin mysteriously, she grew more curious.
        He slipped his hand into his pocket and, pulling it out, unfanned his
fingers, revealing a tiny silver circlet that had settled in his palm.
        She drew in her breath and gingerly touched the tips of his fingers with
her own, wanting a better look, but not wanting to appear too eager. 
"Oh, Neil, it’s beautiful."
        Neil grinned more widely, and picking it up between his thumb and
forefinger, held it aloft between them.  Christy recognized the Celtic
knotwork on the silver band, the symbol of love and marriage, and in the
center sparkled a dainty, perfectly cut, round sapphire.  "I know it’s
not your treasured river stone, Christy, but it was the best I could do
under the circumstances."
        Christy stared at the breathtaking ring and then up at him, too
astonished for words.  Her awe increased as she watched him kneel on one
knee on the rocky ground and take her hand in his.
        His face full of hope, Neil said, "Christy Huddleston, I love you more
than life itself, more than a man should be allowed, more than I ever
dreamed possible.   You are the most precious gift I’ve found, and with
each passing hour, you become more dear to me.  I cannot imagine living
the rest of my days without you by my side.   If you’ll have me, I would
be honored to have you as my wife.  Christy, will you marry me?"
        Christy felt herself falling into those blue eyes, falling into their
fathomless depths, their well of longing, hope, love, their pledge and
their dream.  "Yes, oh yes, Neil!"
        Grinning from ear to ear, Neil slipped the ring on Christy’s finger and
then leapt to his feet.  Gripping her about the waist, he lifted her
aloft and spun around.  Christy cried gleefully for him to stop.
        He carefully lowered her back to the ground and wrapped his arms about
her waist, pulling her close. "Christy, I didn’t know I could be any
happier.  I love ye, lass."
        "And I love you."  Christy gently laced her fingers through the curls
behind his ear.  Neil lowered his head to meet her waiting lips, his arms
gathering her close to his chest.  As they kissed, the deep blue stone of
Christy’s ring sparked like the dark river rushing by, a promise of life
in its depths.


*The End*