Title: Picking Up the Pieces
 Author: Debbie H.



PICKING UP THE PIECES
by Debbie H.

Disclaimer: DISCLAIMER:  Catharine Marshall's beautiful story of Christy
is owned by the LeSourd Family.  The writer of this fanfic is in no way
seeking profit or credit for her story.  The writer is continuing the
story of Christy for amusement only.  Any additions in story and
character were created by the writer of Picking up the Pieces.

******

A fanfic that picks up two days after the book leaves off. . .

CHAPTER ONE - THE RECOVERY

        "For such a dainty girl, you surely do snore."

        I awoke with a start to find Dr. MacNeill standing over me with a
crooked grin on his  face.

        "Why, good morning, Doctor," I mumbled.  The heat generated by my face
could have warmed the whole Cove for the winter.

        "I see you're getting the rest I prescribed."

        Would the man not let sleeping dogs lie?  "I've been trying, Doctor,
but I keep getting interrupted."

        "Ah, well then," he cleared his throat.  "So are you feeling better
today?"

        I sat up and pulled the covers close.  "I'm alive!  What a wonderful
feeling it is!  And I've got you to thank for it, Doctor."

        "I wanted to talk to you about that."  The corner of his mouth twitched
as he pulled a chair beside my bed.  He sat down slowly, a look of
concentration on his face.  Next he reached into his shirt pocket and
retrieved his pipe and tobacco pouch.  For several excruciating seconds,
he filled the bowl.  Whatever he had to say, it was important.

        "It wasn't me, you know," he said with his teeth clamped on the pipe
stem.  He struck a match on the sole of his boot and drew on the pipe
until I could see the orange glow of burning tobacco.

        "What do you mean ‘It wasn't me?'  I've heard the stories of how you
stayed by my side day in, day out, never sleeping, constantly caring for
me."

        "I wanted you to live more than I've ever wanted anything, but I didn't
save you.  No one could have.  Truth is, I'd about given up.  We tried
everything.  Nothing was working.  There was nothing more we could do. .
.  It was a miracle plain and simple."

        Dr. MacNeill chuckled at the look on my face.  "That's right.  It was a
miracle.  I've tried to explain it another way, but I can't."

        "It *was* a miracle."  I smiled at the doctor and gently touched his
hand.  He looked at me with questions in his eyes.  Did I know the
truth?  Had I heard his prayer?  How did I feel about him?  Then, in an
instant, the questions were gone; replaced by a mask of professional
detachment.

        He moved his hand away and stood.  "Well, I just wanted to check on the
most beloved typhoid patient in Cutter Gap.  All of your students have
been asking about you.  I'm pleased to see you're feeling well."

        "Please, Neil, won't you stay?  Surely your other patients can wait a
little while. . ."

        He started at the sound of his name.  I'd never called him Neil
before.  "I don't suppose a few minutes will hurt," he said, resuming
his seat.

        We sat in an uncomfortable silence; the only sound was the steady
ticking of my clock on the dresser.

        "Christy, I--"

        "How are the--"

        "Go ahead, Doctor."

        "No, ladies first, Miss Huddleston."

        "Well, if you insist.  I was just going to ask you how the children
are.  Zady and Bessie, Vella Holt, Creed, Mountie. . ."

        "Whoa, there.  The children are fine.  There have been no fatalities or
new cases since you got sick.  This bout with the scourge took its toll,
but the people here will prevail, just you watch."

        "I've no doubt they will, although I hate that they have to suffer so."

        "So do I."  The doctor gritted his teeth.  "And so much of it's
unnecessary.  If only they'd listen!  I've been back here six years now,
and what progress have I made?  None."

        "But that isn't true!"

        "You told me so yourself."

        "I never!"

        "Yes you did.  That day in my cabin. . . after your little swim in the
creek."

        "But I was so naive then.  I didn't understand.  You do so much for
these people.  I can't imagine what would happen here without you."

        "Oh, they'd manage.  They always do.  The real question is what would
happen here without *you*."

        With my finger, I traced the patchwork on my quilt.  I couldn't meet
the doctor's steady gaze; but I could feel it nonetheless. "I imagine
things would go on as they always have."  

        "For some, they might," he said, "but for others life would never be
the same."

        What did he mean by that?  I really wasn't sure.  Was he saying what I
thought he was, what I hoped he was?  I ventured a glance at him.  He
wore an unreadable expression, of course.  Well, what was I hoping for -
to see him down on bended knee, proclaiming his undying love for me? 
He'd done it when I was sick, unconscious, when he didn't think I could
hear him, but did he still feel that way now that the crisis was over? 
And did I misinterpret what he'd said?  Did he love me with a brotherly
respect or was it that heart-stopping romantic love?  I would never know
by studying that granite face of his, and I vowed not to embarrass
myself by letting him see the feelings that had crept quietly into my
heart these last few months.  It was strange how I hadn't recognized
them until now.

        "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything," Miss Alice said, entering
with a tray.    "I've brought thee a nice bowl of chicken broth,
Christy."

        "Thank you, Miss Alice."  I studied the stitching on my quilt again. 
For some reason, I found it intriguing today.

        "Chicken broth - the very best medicine, Alice," Neil added, standing. 
"Well, Miss Huddleston, several patients await.  I've enjoyed our little
visit."

        "Come back when you can stay longer!" I called to him without thinking
as he descended the steps.  A silly grin spread across my face before I
could stop it.  I knew Miss Alice had seen it, for she had a knowing
smile of her own.

******

        The first few days of my recovery passed quickly, as I spent a great
deal of time sleeping.  I was too exhausted to even consider doing
anything else.  But by the fourth day, I was restless and desperate for
news of my friends and neighbors.  Alice and David gave me updates on
the happenings in the Cove, but they lacked the flavor I craved.  I
never thought I'd long for Ruby Mae's company, but I did that very
thing.  I reminisced about the days of ceaseless chatter and colorful
stories of my young friend.

        "Little Burl says to tell you howdy," David said.  He sat in the chair
by my bed, his feet propped up comfortably as I ate my dinner broth. 
"Oh," he added sitting upright, "I didn't tell you about my new
assistant."

        "New assistant?  Where did you get an assistant?"

        "Right here in Cutter Gap, believe it or not."

        "Well?" I asked.

        "Well what?"

        "Aren't you going to tell me?"

        "Tell you what?" David teased.

        "David!  Fine," I said. Pretending to pout, I laid my spoon on the tray
and looked out the window at my misty blue mountains, "I didn't want to
hear about it anyway."

        "Oh, Christy, you know I'm joking.  You won't believe who my assistant
is, though.  Why don't you take a guess."

        "I have no idea.  Please, David, just *tell* me."

        "Well. . .  all right.  The man who's been traveling around the
mountain with me doing chores, running errands, offering comfort and
even digging graves is-- are you sure you want me to tell you?  I'd
rather you guess."

        "Da-vi-i-d!"

        "Bird's-Eye Taylor."

        "What?"  I couldn't believe my ears.

        "Bird's-Eye Taylor."

        "Miracles never do cease around here.  I was surprised enough when he
stayed to help out while Lundy was sick, but. . .  How did it happen?"

        "Do you remember that night when you came down with the fever, the day
Lundy died?"

        "A little.  I remember that Bird's-Eye disappeared and Dr. MacNeill
went searching for him.  When he returned that night, Miss Alice told us
all that Lundy was Tom's killer and that Bob Allen was a witness.  I
remember thinking that something important was happening, but it didn't
make sense to me then."

        "And moments later, you collapsed," David added.

        I laughed.  "I guess I did."

        "Well, evidently, the events of that night made an impression on the
‘rip-snortinest' sinner of the Cove.  I for one, never thought we'd see
him again after Lundy died.  But he's been true to his word.  Helped
Kyle Coburn clean out his well.  Doctor MacNeill seems to think that may
have been the source of our problems this year.  And he's kept the
McHones fed with enough rabbit and squirrel meat to last all year."

        "And what does Opal think about that?"

        "Huh?"  A typical male response.  David didn't even realize what was
happening.  Here I was bound to my bed, and I knew.  "I'm sure she's
quite pleased to have her family so well cared-for.  Oh, by the way,
Ruby Mae Beck asked about you.  She wants to see you, but she isn't well
enough to make the trip quite yet."

        "Next time you see her, tell her I miss her.  As soon as Miss Alice or
Dr. MacNeill lets me out of this bed, I'll be beating a path to her
cabin."  An empty feeling filled my heart as I thought of the path I
used to beat to Fairlight's door.  Ruby Mae was a dear friend, but she
was not Fairlight Spencer - never could be.

        "I have a feeling we'll have to tie you down to keep you here,
Christy," he said, putting his feet on the floor.  "Here, give me your
tray.  I promised Swannie O'Teale I'd chop some firewood for her. 
Nathan's whereabouts are still unknown and Smith has gone to Knoxville
to work in the mills.  I'd best do the job before it gets dark."

        I watched the tall young man disappear.  What a good friend he is, I
thought, even after I finally turned down his proposal.  He will make
some woman a nice husband one day. 

******


CHAPTER TWO - FREEDOM!

        I stood in my gown, my bare feet firmly planted in front of my
dresser.  I studied the image in the mirror before me.  She was a wisp
of a girl with pale, white skin and dark rings under her eyes.  Well,
that would get better with time, I consoled myself.

        I picked up my brush, which had lain unused for weeks and began
brushing my hair.  I knew I wasn't the prettiest girl in the world, but
I did have nice, thick brown hair.  It would take quite a bit of
brushing to regain its healthy shine, but I certainly had the time; due
to the epidemic, the school term would not be starting for another
month.  

        "Oh no!" I cried aloud.  I held a large tuft of hair in my hand and saw
a bald spot on my head where, moments before, the hair had been.  In
dismay, I grabbed another handful and gently tugged.  It, too, parted
from my scalp with no resistance.  I ran to the bed and buried my face
in my pillow.  Not only was I thin and pale, but it wouldn't be long
before I'd be bald as well!

        Well, what did you expect?  You saw it happen to Bessie and Zady; you
should have known it would happen to you.  Yes, but knowing doesn't make
it any easier!  I sobbed for a long time.  Crying not only for the loss
of my hair, but for the loss of everything that typhoid fever brought -
the loss of friends and loved ones, the loss of hope, and I thought,
weeping bitterly, the loss of a love that had taken so long to discover.
*If* Dr. MacNeill had ever thought about me in a romantic way, those
thoughts would be quickly forgotten if he saw me now. 

        I didn't hear Miss Alice come in, but I felt the bed shift as she sat
down beside me, murmuring softly and stroking my cheek.  

        "There, there, child," she cooed.

        "Oh, Miss Alice!"  I said turning to face her.  "I'm going bald!" 
Fresh tears filled my eyes and threatened to overflow.  "What a vain and
selfish creature I am to worry about something so foolish when there are
many things so much more important!  But I can't help it.  I can live
with the paleness and the skinniness and the circles under my eyes, but
why do I have to lose my hair?"  The tears streamed down my cheeks.  I
couldn't stop them.

        "Hush, Christy.  Thee are not vain or selfish.  I don't know any woman
who would not bemoan losing her hair.  But you do realize that it will
grow back."

        "I know," I sniffled, "but by then it will be too late."

        "Too late?"

        Ooops.  How could I tell Miss Alice what was really causing my pain?  I
wasn't mourning the loss of my hair, but the loss of a love whose seeds
had only been planted, a love that would never have the opportunity to
blossom.  For what man could love a wasted, shadow of a woman like me?

        "What do you mean, ‘too late'?"

        "It's nothing, Miss Alice."  I sat up and wiped my eyes with the
sheet.  "I'm all right now."

        The elderly woman stood with a bright smile on her face.  "I know just
the thing to brighten your spirit."  With that she turned and
disappeared.  A few minutes later, she returned with her hands behind
her back.  "I've been saving this for you."  She held out a calico
kerchief in her hand - Fairlight's calico kerchief.  "Jeb gave it to me
after she died.  He couldn't bear to keep it, he said.  I believe that
Fairlight would be happy for you to wear it."

        I took the kerchief and held it to my face; the faint scent of my
friend lingered in the cloth.  "It would be a comfort," I said. 
Together, we tied it on my head and I felt prettier instantly.

******

        The morning light slipped softly into my bedroom.  It was an overcast,
gloomy day, but it was beautiful to me.  Finally, after two weeks of
confinement, I would be able to leave the mission house.  Dr. MacNeill
had told me so himself.  And leave the mission house I intended to do.

        The cool water felt good as I splashed it on my face.  My cheeks were
beginning to fill out a bit, and Fairlight's kerchief covered my scalp
nicely.  I would go visit the McHones.  I had thought it all out last
night.  It wasn't the closest cabin, but Ruby Mae's was twice as far and
I sorely missed Opal.  I was more than curious to hear what she had to
say about Bird's-Eye.  Several stories were circulating around the Cove
about the acts of kindness that the mountain man had been performing,
and he'd been working hard to tend the McHone farm.  Was he trying to
court his sweetheart from many years ago?  Opal would know.

******

        I called out to Miss Alice as I pushed open the mission house door,
"I'll be home before din–" My words were cut short as I walked straight
into Dr. MacNeill's chest.  Instinctively I raised my hands to lessen
the impact, and they touched the soft flannel of his shirt.  He grabbed
my elbows to steady me.  I looked up into his face, just inches from
mine, and we stood there for a moment or a lifetime, I couldn't tell you
which.

        Finally, he stepped back and dropped his arms.  "And where are you
going in such a hurry?"

        "You told me I could go out today," I answered defiantly.

        "Yes I did.  And how do you plan to exercise this newfound freedom?" he
asked with a look I didn't understand.

        "To. . . to the McHones.  I haven't seen Opal in ages, and I'm sure
she'd be delighted to have another reading lesson."

        Dr. MacNeill laughed.  "Always the teacher, aren't you?  But isn't the
McHone cabin an awfully long walk for a young woman in your condition?"

        "But you told me I could!"

        "I said you could travel a short distance from the mission house.  What
I had in mind was the school house or the O'Teale cabin, not a mile-long
trek to Opal's place.  You've hardly been out of bed for weeks.  Your
muscles have atrophied, no doubt, and your lungs are not in the
condition they were prior to your illness.  I daresay you'd get halfway
there and realize the foolishness of your endeavor."

        "I am not a fool, Doctor."  I could feel the anger rising in my cheeks.

        "No, no you're not."  He reached back and fingered a curl on his neck. 
"Well, seeing how you've set your mind to visiting Opal, why don't I
saddle up Buttons and accompany you?  I've got to ride over and see how
Vincent is recovering anyway."

        I nodded as he led me to the rocking chair on the porch.  "You sit
right here while I get Buttons."  

          Obediently, I sat.  What was it about that man that could make my
feelings jump from one extreme to another so quickly?  In a matter of
minutes I'd felt giddy, faint, defensive, angry and childish.  Why did
he have to talk to me as if I were a little girl?  He wouldn't talk to
me that way if he were in love with me.  No, but he did call me a young
woman; in the past, he'd always called me a girl.  Was there any
significance in his choice of words?  Probably not.  I was reading too
much meaning into nothing again.  Dr. MacNeill was a friend - a dear
friend - but only that.  I repeated the words to myself, but I couldn't
forget the funny feeling in my stomach as I'd stood so close to him.

******

        We rode in silence on the trail along the river.  My mind was awhirl,
but I could not think of a single word to say to the big man on the
horse beside me.  I felt that somehow I was letting an opportunity pass,
an opportunity that might never come again.

        The doctor cleared his throat.  "Comfortable?" he asked.

        "Yes, fine thanks."

        After several moments, he spoke again.  "This is much better than
walking, don't you agree?"

        "I suppose.  Although a walk through the woods in springtime can't be
beaten.  As long as I live, I don't think I'll ever forget the smell of
honeysuckle in the spring."

        "No there's nothing quite like it."  His horse slowed, then stopped.  I
reigned in Buttons and looked back at the doctor.  Our eyes met and he
wore that same expression he had when I ran into him at the mission
house.  "When spring comes, will you walk with me, Christy?"    

        I wrapped Buttons' reigns around my fingers.  My heart pounded in my
ears.  Was this just a friendly invitation, or could he be courting me? 
I adjusted the kerchief on my head, suddenly aware of my
less-than-desirable appearance.

        "No need to answer now," he said in response to my silence.  "Spring
won't be here for several months yet.  Should give you plenty of time to
decide."  He dug his heels into Charlie's flanks and passed ahead of me
on the trail.

        "Don't be angry, Neil," I called to him.

        "I'm not," he threw over his shoulder.

        "No," I thought, "you're hurt and I'm the one who's hurt you."  How
could I make him understand?  I was at a complete loss for words.  We
continued in silence, but my mind was spinning.  The insistent
twittering of a bluejay in a nearby tree distracted me from organizing
my thoughts.

        Finally, the doctor slowed his horse until I was even with him. 
"Zady's back on her feet now."

        "So I heard.  David told me."  I thought I saw Neil scowl.  "He visited
the Spencer place yesterday," I explained.  "Said Clara's relieved to
have a bit of help."

        "Yes, I don't believe any of them realized the load that Fairlight
carried."

        Oh, Fairlight!  Indeed, my friend had carried a heavy load, but it
never kept her from enjoying the world around her.  How many times had
she set aside the washing to traipse through the woods with me?  Would
Clara and Zady ever be able to tote the burden without letting it
smother their spirit?  Only time would tell.

        "Penny for your thoughts."  The doctor's voice interrupted my musing.

        "I. . . I was just thinking about Fairlight."  I sniffled, making me
realize I'd been crying. 

        Neil reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a rumpled
handkerchief.  He reached over and wiped the tears that had trickled
down my cheek.  His touch was so gentle; it was hard to fathom that
those huge, calloused hands could have such a light touch.  He put the
kerchief to my nose.

        "Blow."

        "But–"

        "Blow."

        The tone of his voice left no choice but obedience.  How humiliating! 
"That man has an absolute talent for making me feel like a little girl!"
I thought.

        His eyes crinkled and a faint smile crossed his lips as he tucked the
dirty hankie back into his pocket.  "Better now?"

        I nodded, too embarrassed to speak.

        "I didn't mean to make you cry."

        "You didn't.  I just got to thinking about Fairlight, and how much I
miss her."

        "Yes, the Cove will be a different place without her, . . . without so
many we've lost.  But the mountain folk will pick up the pieces."

        "But don't they ever tire of picking up pieces?  I mean, don't they
ever wish that there were no pieces to pick up?  I've only seen one
typhoid epidemic, and it almost broke me.  How can they go on, year
after year?"

        "What choice do they have, Christy?  It's the only life they've ever
known.  Jeb and the children will struggle for a while, but they'll work
things out and life will go on."  Neil patted Charlie's neck.  "And. . .
Jeb will see Fairlight again, you know."

        I looked at him in surprise.  I knew that Jeb would see Fairlight
again; after all, I had.  But this was the scientist Dr. MacNeill
talking.

        There was a twinkle in his eye as he nodded his head toward the McHone
cabin.  "Almost there," he said, "and in record time."

******

CHAPTER THREE - SOCIAL CALLS

        Our visit with the McHones was a strange one.  I was aching to ask Opal
about Bird's-Eye, but how could I, with the ever-observant Doctor
MacNeill in the corner with the boys?  So we had a reading lesson
instead.  Opal was making progress, although it was slow.  We were
laboring through "Little Women" when a male voice called out from the
yard.

        "Hallooooo!  Hallooo?  Opal?"

        Opal's head snapped up from the book.  "Hit's him," she whispered, then
looked at me with a shy grin.

        "Bird's-Eye?"  

        She lowered her eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly.

        "I heard he's been looking out for you all."

        "Makin' a right fine job of it, too."  She stood, walked through the
door and out onto the porch.  "Hey, thar!" she called.

        I strained to hear the ensuing conversation until I realized that the
doctor was looking at me.  What a nosey woman I am!  What will he think
of me, eavesdropping on their conversation?  Quickly, I grabbed Opal's
book and began reading furiously.

        "Come on in and set a spell," Opal's voice floated into the cabin, as
did the sound of footsteps.  "Miz Christy and Doc drapped in."

        "Waal now," Bird's-Eye exclaimed upon seeing me.  "Right surprizin' to
see ye out ‘n' about.  Reckon yore a peart ‘un, though."

        "Thank you, Mr. Taylor."  Those were the friendliest words he'd ever
said to me, and there was something strange about his appearance, but it
wasn't his clothes.  He still wore his trademark felt hat and dirty,
worn coat, and his fist still gripped his trusty rifle.  

        I studied his face.  The hardness was gone.  I noticed that his eyes
were sky-blue.  Why, I'd only seen them as wary slits in the past, but
now they were round and very, very blue.  The lines of hatred that I'd
thought were permanently etched into his face had been softened into
character lines.  David told me Bird's-Eye had changed, but hearing it
and seeing it were two different things.

        "I'd be obleeged if'n ye could handle my front name, Miz Christy. 
‘Specially after what-all you folks at the mission done for me."

        "All right then, Bird's-Eye.  It's a pleasure to see you."

        Opal held up a string of fish.  "Bird's-Eye brung these over."

        "Caught ‘em jest this mornin'," the mountain man added proudly.

        "Where were you fishing today?" the doctor asked.

        Bird's-Eye smiled, revealing a mouthful of dirty, jagged teeth. 
"Wouldn't you like to know, Doc!"

        "You-all want to stay fer supper?" Opal asked.

        Neil looked over at me with one eyebrow cocked.  I shook my head. 
"Thanks for the kind invitation, Opal, but I'm exhausted.  Dr. MacNeill,
you were right when you said this was a long trip."

        The doctor stood.  "Vincent's doing very well, Opal.  Continue giving
him broth and thick soups.  I'll be back around in a couple days, and he
should be ready for solid food then."  He turned to me.  "Ready to go
back to the mission house, Miss Huddleston?"

        I nodded and tried to get out of the chair, but I was feeling very
weak.  Immediately, Neil understood.  "Here," he said, taking my arm. 
Slowly, we made our way across the cabin.

        "Thank you for a wonderful visit, Opal," I called as we left.  Neil
practically had to lift me onto Buttons' back.

        "Now aren't you glad you didn't hike over?"

        "I sure am!  I would have had to stay overnight if I had."

        "Think you'll be able to hang on until we make it home?" he asked.

        "I think so," I answered, but even I could hear the uncertainty in my
voice.  As we traveled, I noticed that Neil was riding very close beside
me, probably to catch me if I started to fall, and occasionally his leg
would brush against my foot.  His nearness made me feel safe, but it
also made me feel nervous.  I so wanted to lean up against him and let
his strong arm support me, but I didn't want him to feel me shaking.

        And why was I shaking anyway?  Had the short journey taken that much
out of me, or was it Dr. MacNeill himself who made me weak?  I fought to
stay upright and awake.  The doctor must have understood my exhaustion
because he was quiet.  Eventually, as the afternoon sun fell below the
tops of the tallest pines, the outline of the mission house appeared in
the distance.

        "Not much further."  Neil's voice was tender.  "Hang on, Christy."

        I could feel myself swaying in the saddle.  "Whoa, there!" he said as
he caught me sliding off Buttons' back.  "Sit up, now.  Can you make
it?"  His voice came to me through a haze.  I looked at him blankly. 
"No, I don't think you can.  Sit very still, Christy," he said as he
dismounted Charlie.  He held my arm firmly and nudged Buttons into a
slow walk.  For a hundred yards, Neil escorted Buttons and me to the
mission steps.

        "All right, now."  He slipped one arm behind my knees and used the
other to pull me down and wrap my arm around his neck.  He carried me
into the parlor.  Despite my fatigue, I couldn't help noticing the soft
flannel against my cheek.

        "Why, Neil!" I heard Alice exclaim.

        "Shhhh. . ." I felt myself being eased onto the sofa, then covered by a
warm blanket.  A whispered consultation was taking place nearby, but I
didn't have the energy to listen.  Every now and then a few words would
float into my consciousness.

        "Completely exhausted. . . plenty of bed rest. . . cannot risk a
relapse. . . I won't lose her now."

        I won't lose her now, won't lose her now, won't lose her now.  What did
he mean by that, I wondered.  Well, it was too hard to figure out. 
Maybe after a little nap. . .

*****

        The morning sun streamed through my window.  I felt as though I'd been
hit over the head; it was a long, deep slumber I'd had.  It took a while
to fully awaken, but as I did, I felt refreshed.  With a sudden burst of
energy, I threw back my covers and swung my feet to the floor.

        Why, I was still wearing the stockings I'd worn yesterday!  And my
dress!  Why hadn't I changed into my nightgown?  And this wasn't my
bedroom - it was the parlor!  A memory of soft flannel reminded me why
I'd slept in my clothes.  I closed my eyes in an effort to relive those
moments.  The strong arms carrying me effortlessly, the deep rumble in
the doctor's chest as he murmured to me, and my ear being tickled by his
breath.

        "Awake now, are we?"  It was Miss Ida.  The words were cynical, but the
tone was not.  Ida and I had come a long way since my first morning in
the Cove.

        I stretched luxuriously.  "What time is it?"

        "Half past nine.  The others are gone now, but I saved you some
breakfast.  I hope you're hungry."

        "Actually, I'm starved.  Thanks, Miss Ida."

        She ladled a generous portion of oatmeal into a large bowl.  "You woke
up just in time.  I was about to take a pot of pea soup over to the
O'Teales.  David's gone down to El Pano to pick up supplies, and Miss
Alice is in Big Lick.  They were hit hard by the fever as well, you
know.  You'll be all right for a while?"

        I nodded.

        "Are you sure?"

        "I'm sure."

        "And you'll stay in bed?"  She looked at me sternly.  "Those were
Doctor MacNeill's strict instructions.  You're to stay off your feet
until you're fully recovered."

        "But I feel great!"

        "That's what you said yesterday, too.  And the doctor said it was all
he could do to keep you from falling off your horse.  You are to stay in
bed all day today."

        "Can I at least go upstairs?  This couch has given me a crik in my
neck.  And I'd love to put on some fresh clothes."

        Ida nodded as she finished stirring the soup and recovered it.  "But
that's all."  With that, she lifted the heavy pot and disappeared
through the back door.

*****

        I had just washed my face and put on a clean dress when I heard a
friendly voice shouting its greeting - Jeb Spencer - accompanied by
several younger voices.  I scurried down the steps and threw open the
front door.
        
        "Hello, Spencers!" I cried.  It felt like years since I'd seen them. 
"Come in!  Come in!"  

        "The young'uns was just bustin' to see ye, Miz Christy.  Proud to see
that yore lookin' so peart.  Clara was right worried when she heerd you
were sick." 

        "Hit's true, Teacher.  Me and Zady was mighty afeared for ye."

        The children gathered around for a big hug - those dear, sweet,
motherless children!  I prayed that God would comfort them.  Our visit
was a pleasant one, and we didn't hear Ida enter as Jeb sang a ballad of
his Scottish ancestors, how they crossed the ocean on a ship known as
The Curlew, along with hundreds of fellow countrymen, to venture into
the new world.  As the final note faded away, Miss Ida sniffled.

        "That was beautiful, Mr. Spencer," she breathed.

        "Jest a tune that's been past down to me, ma'am," Jeb answered.

        "Well, it was beautiful just the same."

        "Miz Ida, Miz Christy told us ye can play a fair tune on that-thar
piany," Lulu squeaked.

        Ida shot me a questioning glance.  "Well, you can!" I said.

        "All right, then," she said crisply.  She sat down at the Lyon and
Healy and smoothed her skirt.  She placed her hands on the keys and took
a deep breath.

        "She-e-e-e-e'll be-e-e-e-e comin' ‘round the mountain when she comes,
she'll be comin' ‘round the mountain when she comes. . .

        In no time at all we were all singing along.  "Miz Christy, you cain't
sing a-tall!" Least'un announced as the song, after many verses, ended.

        "That may be, Least'un, but she ken read and she loves us." Zady came
to my defense.  Ida quietly got up from the bench.  

        "Right nice playing thar, Miz Ida."

        "Thank you, Mr. Spencer.  I believe we have some huckleberry pie in the
kitchen.  Would anyone like some?"

        Several grimy hands shot into the air.  "I do!  I do!  Me!  Me!"        

        As Ida and I sliced the pie, I told her that I didn't know she could
play folk songs.  "I knew you could play the classical pieces, but. . ."

        "You didn't think I had the. . . the spunkiness to play a song like
that?"

        "Well, I wouldn't quite say it like that."

        "There is more life in me than you realize, Christy," she said slapping
a thick slice onto a plate.

        "You don't have to tell me.  I'll never forget how you handled those
moonshiners when they laid siege to the mission house."

        "But that's the only side of me you've ever seen.  I'm not all hardness
and bitterness.  I do know how to laugh."

        I nudged the woman.  "Well, now that the epidemic is behind us, maybe
we'll all get to hear that laugh of yours."

        Ida smiled, and for the first time since I'd known her, it didn't seem
wooden.  "I hope so, Miss Huddleston, I hope so."

******



CHAPTER FOUR - THE LESSON
                
        The days passed quickly as final preparations were made for the
winter.  David and Bird's-Eye were seen all around the Cove, fixing
broken windows, mending drafty roofs and chopping firewood.  Miss Alice,
Ida and I busied ourselves with canning and preserving - and knitting. 
I had never knit a stitch in my life, but the farmer's almanac was
predicting a harsh winter, and Ida had come up with the idea of making
sweaters for the children as Christmas gifts.

        "Pearl, Christy, Pearl!"  Ida sounded like a drill sergeant.  "Knit
one, pearl two.  Knit one, pearl two."  As I tried to follow her orders,
three stitches slipped off the end of my needle.  "Here, let me."  Ida
snatched the needles from me and deftly poked the needle through the
loose stitches and pushed them back into their proper place.  "Now, try
again."

        "Do you have to sit so close, Ida?  You're making me nervous."

        "Just trying to help."

        Miss Alice set down her project, a lovely indigo blue wool.  It would
be a prized possession for the child who received it - unlike mine,
which had so many loose or missed stitches, it would be a wonder if it
could keep a body warm in July.  "Ida, why don't we check on the stew? 
I'd hate for it to boil over after we worked so hard peeling all those
potatoes."

        The two women left me to my work.  Alone, I was able to complete a
whole row without a single mistake.  I pulled on the yarn to prepare for
the next row, then wrapped it three times loosely around my finger, as
Ida had taught me.

        "What's this?"  I heard Doctor MacNeill say with a chuckle.  I looked
up to find him leaning against the doorframe.

        "I'm knitting," I said.  "And what's so funny about knitting?"

        His expression turned somber.  "Nothing.  Knitting is serious business,
but the way you do it, Christy, is. . . well, it *is* amusing."

        "How is my knitting. . ." Suddenly I became aware of the fact that
somehow the yarn was wrapped behind my ear, tangled around my arm, and
the ball that had been at my feet had rolled, unraveling across the
floor to the door.  What could I do but laugh?  "I guess my knitting can
be rather entertaining.  Won't you have a seat, Doctor?"  I said,
starting to rise.

        "No, don't get up!  I don't want you to break your ankle tripping on
all that yarn," he joked.  He sat down on the piano bench, his back
facing the keyboard.  A discordant kerplunk came from the piano as he
leaned back and rested his elbows on the keys.

        "What brings you to the mission house today?" I asked.

        "Do I have to have a reason to come here?  I thought everyone was
welcome in a mission house."  Whatever that look of his meant, it
flustered me.

        "Well, no, of course not.  I mean, they are, you are.  It's just that
usually when you come, you've got some bit of news or. . . or-"

        "As a matter of fact, I do have some news."

        "Oh, really?"

        "I saw Uncle Bogg today."

        "You did?  Well, where has he been?  No one's seen him for weeks."

        "He's been spending a lot of time up at Ault Allen's place.  You know
where that is?"

        I shook my head.

        The doctor waved a hand in the direction of the O'Teales and said,
"It's east of here, close to the North Carolina line.  Not sure what
they're up to back there, but I doubt it's good.  Ran into them on the
way to Lyleton.  They were out hunting.  Bogg didn't look very good."

        "Is he sick?"

        "Not physically, no, but. . ."

        "What is it, then?"

        "I think Tom's death was hard on him, and then to have Bird's-Eye
Taylor step in and care for Tom's widow and children-"

        "But why wouldn't he want his own daughter-in-law and grandchildren
cared for?" I interrupted.

        "It's not that he doesn't want them cared for; it's that it's supposed
to be his job as Opal's closest male relative."

        "I see.  That mountain pride of his has been wounded."

        "Yes, and to top it off, the father of Tom's murderer is the taking
care of them."

        "Well," I said untangling the yarn from my arm, "I can understand how
Uncle Bogg feels, but still, he should be glad that Opal and the
children are warm and fed."

        "Maybe so, Christy, but that isn't-"

        "These sweaters should help with keeping the children warm, don't you
think, Neil?" Miss Alice asked as she came into the parlor with a tea
tray.

        "Some of them should, anyway," Neil quipped, with a crooked grin in my
direction.

        "Christy," Alice said, setting the tray on the coffee table, "Doctor
MacNeill is an accomplished knitter in his own right.  Isn't that so,
Neil?"

        "I wouldn't say accomplished, exactly, Alice."  He tugged at his hair. 
"I know enough to keep my socks darned, that's about all."

        "But I thought I heard you tell Granny Barclay that you'd made that
sweater you're wearing right now."  I could tell by the look on his face
that Miss Alice's words were true.  

        I stifled a giggle.  "It is a handsome sweater.  Will you teach me how
to do that cable-knit pattern, Doctor?"  With that I dissolved into
peals of laughter, with Miss Alice, and eventually Neil, joining in.

        "Seriously, Christy, now that the cat is out of the bag, I can teach it
to you. . . if you'd like."

        "I hope you brought your patience with you today," Alice said, rising. 
"Excuse me.  I left the sugar in the kitchen."  With that she
disappeared.  Neil came over and sat beside me on the sofa.

        My knitting lesson was a very unusual one.  It was terribly hard to
concentrate on the complicated sequence of stitches with Doctor MacNeill
so close to me.

        "No, no, Christy, you want to bring it around this way," he said
putting an arm around me and wrapping the yarn counter-clockwise around
the needle.  "Like this. . ."  His breath tickled my ear, and I peeked
up at him.  My heart skipped a beat when I realized how close his face
was to mine.  He looked away from the knitting, to me, and my heart beat
frantically.  He leaned imperceptibly closer; I was lost in the depths
of his gaze.  Alice's footsteps could be heard in the hallway.

        "Well, do you want to learn this pattern or not, Miss Huddleston?" he
chided, pulling away and moving his arm to rest on the back of the sofa
behind me.

        "Of. . . of course I do."  My ears were burning, and I knew he could
see them.  I bent over my work in an effort to hide.

        Alice returned with the sugar bowl.  As she poured the tea she asked,
"Would you like to help with our sweater project, Doctor?"

        "It certainly is a good cause," Neil responded.  "If I can teach
Christy how to do the cable stitch, will that count as my contribution?"

        "If you can teach me any stitch, it would be worth my weight in wool!"
I said.

        "Let's start with the basics, then," he said leaning forward and
removing his arm from the back of the sofa.  "Mind if I take this for a
minute?" Our fingers brushed as I handed him the needles and yarn.  He
deftly wrapped the yarn loosely around his right index finger.  "Now, if
you'll just think about what we're doing here," he began and continued
with an analytical view of how the yarn wrapped around the needle in
certain ways became linked to the previous stitch to form a tight,
uniform pattern.  For the first time, I could *see* what I was supposed
to be doing.

        "Now you try," he said, giving it all back to me.  He leaned back and
rested his right ankle on his left knee.  "Good, good.  Keep doing it
just like that."

        I was really knitting!  This wasn't so hard.  I looked over at him and
smiled. 

        "Watch it, Christy!"  About five stitches popped off the end.  "If
you're careful, you won't lose those stitches.  Like this," Neil took my
hand and helped me pick up my loose stitches.  "See?"

        I nodded.  "Thank you, Doctor.  For the first time I have some
understanding of how this all works."  I continued with my row as he
sipped on a cup of tea.

        "So tell us, Neil, how is Ozias Holt?" Miss Alice asked.

        "Oh, he's mending well enough.  Maybe that will teach him not to be
walking around in the dark with a loaded shotgun.  He was lucky it was
just his foot."  The doctor set down his cup and rose.  "Speaking of
medical calls, I do have another one to make this afternoon - Ruby Mae
Beck's been feeling a bit under the weather and asked me to stop by.  In
fact, I was on my way over there, when I thought I'd stop here and say
hello."

        "Ruby Mae?" I asked.  "Is it anything serious?"

        Neil chuckled.  "I don't think it's anything life threatening.  She's
been nauseated these last few mornings, and I have a feeling I know the
cause."

        "Really?  What do you think it is?"

        Miss Alice and Doctor MacNeill exchanged a knowing glance.  "Well, it's
no virus, Christy," the doctor said, laughing.  "I must be off.  Good
luck with the sweater."  With that, he was gone.


CHAPTER FIVE - NEWS

        "Miz Christy! Miz Christy!" Ruby Mae's shouts echoed through the
mission house.  I was upstairs writing a letter to Mother.  Since my
illness, both she and Father had been anxious for me to come home for a
visit.  After consulting with Dr. MacNeill and Miss Alice, we all agreed
that two weeks from now would be best, giving me time to recover
further, but still leaving me a few days back in the Cove before the
school term began.

        "Miz Christy!"  I got up from my writing desk and started down the
stairs, only to be met by a breathless Ruby Mae.  "Oh, Miz Christy! 
Land sakes, you won't never believe it.  Why I'd a never believed it if
Doc MacNeill himself hadn't a told me."

        "What is it, Ruby Mae?"  I asked, taking her arm and leading her
downstairs.  

        "Hit's a wonder, truly a wonder.  You know how Doc MacNeill came by our
cabin a few days back?  Well, he came over again this mornin' askin'
if'n I was feeling any better.  Told him I was right as rain ‘cepting in
the morning when I cain't keep even a crumb down.  And you know what he
told me, Miz Christy?"

        "No, what?"

        "Said he reckoned me and Will would be havin' ourselves a young'un."

        "You mean you're pregnant, Ruby Mae?"

        The young woman beamed at me.  "That's what Doc said, but we can't know
for shore for a while yit.  Ain't it a wonder, Miz Christy?  Me. . . a
maw!"

        I gave my former student a big hug.  "I think you'll make a wonderful
mother," I told her.  "Now you be sure and do everything Doctor MacNeill
tells you to, all right?"

        "Yes ma'am.  He's a right smart feller, Doc is - about most things,
anyways."

        "And what is that supposed to mean?"

        "Oh, he knows all about doctorin' sick folks, and he's real good at
helpin' young'uns and grannies, but when it comes to his own heart, why
he's as-"

        "His heart?"

        "Why shorely.  Everybody in the Coves knows that he thinks yore. . .uh,
hey, Miz Christy, did I tell you that Bessie Coburn told Zady Spencer
that Bird's-Eye and Opal McHone's getting hitched?  Bessie said Rob
Allen overheard the men talkin' about it over at the mill."

        "Wait a minute," I said, trying to process the volume of information
that Ruby Mae had volunteered in only a few seconds.  Bird's-Eye and
Opal were getting married?  That was certainly a whirlwind courtship! 
And what was it she'd said about Doctor MacNeill?

        "I got to go, Miz Christy.  Bessie ain't goin' to believe it when I
tell her I'm havin' a young'un!  I ain't be believin' it myself!  Now
you be shore to come see me real soon, Miz Christy, ye hear?"  

        "But Ruby Mae-"

        "Best be runnin' along now.  Bye, Miz Christy!"

        "Ruby Mae. . .!"  I walked out onto the porch and watched my young
friend scurry away.  Ruby Mae pregnant?  Bird's-Eye and Opal engaged? 
And what was it that she'd almost told me about Doctor MacNeill?  What
did he think of me?  Why did everyone in Cutter Gap know but me?

        He thinks I'm. . . I'm what?  A good teacher?  A fool?  Kind?  Naive? 
Childish?  Maybe he thinks I'm attractive.  I reached up and touched
Fairlight's kerchief on my head.  No, that was impossible; I only wished
it were so.

******


CHAPTER SIX - HEART-TO-HEART TALKS

        A few days later, I rode over to visit Ruby Mae.  Ever since she'd made
that comment about Dr. MacNeill, I'd been itching to know what she
meant.  The only way to find out was to go over and ask her.  I also
wanted to get her help gathering leaves for a class project I was
planning for the beginning of the school term.

        Dr. MacNeill's horse was tethered to a post near the Beck's porch when
I arrived.  My stomach did a somersault and my mouth turned dry.  I
hadn't expected to see him here.  After dismounting Buttons, I adjusted
my kerchief and straightened my long coat.

        "Hello!" I called.  "Ruby Mae!"

        Will appeared at the door.  "Howdy thar, Miz Christy.  Doc's here
a-visitin'.  Come on up and set a spell."

        The young man had been working hard on the cabin since the last time
I'd been there.  All four walls and the roof had been completed, and
just in time for the cold winter months.  That would be critical for the
health of his young wife and their unborn child.

        "Will," I said climbing the steps, "I don't think I've been here since
that night when Ruby Mae was sick.  I'll never forget peeling all those
onions."

        "I won't be disrememberin' it either.  Land sakes!  I didn't reckon I'd
ever eat another ‘un after that."

        "But it worked, didn't it?" I asked, fondly looking over at Ruby Mae.

        "Shorely did," Will said.  "Hit was worth ever' tear we cried."

        Dr. MacNeill, who was sitting in a chair beside Ruby Mae's bed, was
taking the young woman's pulse.  "You did shed a few tears," he said. 
"Christy, your eyes were so red and your face so tear-streaked, I was
afraid that I'd arrived too late."

        "Miz Christy," Ruby Mae said, "pull up that settin' chair yon.  You
like my new curtains?" she asked, pointing to her single window in the
kitchen area.  "Bessie holped me make ‘em with some empty flour sacks. 
Shorely livens up the place a bit, don't ye think?"

        "I think they're wonderful."

        "If you think curtains liven up a cabin, just wait until your baby
comes," Neil joked.  He looked over at me and winked.

        What did that wink mean?  I tore my eyes from his face.  "Ruby Mae, the
reason I'm here is to see if you'd like to help me prepare for a class
project.  School will be starting in a couple of weeks."

        "What kind o' holp are ye needin'?"

        "Well, I'd like to go on a leaf hunt."

        Will glanced over at his rifle leaning against the fireplace.  "Leaf
huntin'?"

        I laughed at Will's confusion.  "What I meant was that I want to
collect autumn leaves from as many different trees as we can find here
in the Cove."

        "Me and Will know lots about trees in these parts," Ruby Mae stated. 
"We go traipsin' all the time.  And I reckon Doc knows a fair piece,
too.  Let's us'uns all go."

        I glanced over at Neil.  "Do you have the time, Doctor?"  I asked.

        He pursed his lips.  "I don't have any other calls to make today. 
Sounds like a nice way to spend the afternoon."

        The four of us set out in the opposite direction of the mission house. 
"How ‘bout headin' toward Beaver Crik?" Will suggested.  "Thar's a right
purty spot over thar."

        Leaves crunched underneath our feet.  The afternoon was chilly, but not
cold.  Our foursome chattered merrily as we hiked, stopping occasionally
to gather a leaf or point out a tree, but soon enough, Ruby Mae and Will
had moved ahead of Dr. MacNeill and me.  I was still regaining my
strength and couldn't quite keep up with the young couple.

        "There's a dogwood, over there," Neil said, waving his hand at a small
tree.  "Need some dogwood leaves?"

        "Sure," I answered.  "I just love dogwoods in bloom.  It's hard to
believe that scrawny, bare tree will blossom into an amazing display of
God's beauty come springtime."

        The doctor bent down and picked up a rusty red leaf.  "I'm glad the
afternoon turned out this way."

        "What do you mean?"

        "I'm glad to have a chance to talk with you.  There's something I've
been meaning to tell you."

        "What is it?"

        "Your coming to the Cove has been like the dogwood blooming."  Neil
laughed at my puzzled expression.  "I can see that I'm not making myself
very clear.  Let me try again.  When you came here, Christy, you brought
life and color to the Cove.  I hadn't realized how dull my life had
become-"

        "Your life dull?" I interrupted.

        "In many ways, yes.  Well, maybe ‘dull' isn't quite the right word. 
‘Unfulfilled' might be better.  I had certain parts of my life that I'd
conveniently packed away and ignored.  But you've made me face those
things.  You've made me want to live my life again, to the fullest. 
You've brought out the best in me, and I. . ." He looked at the small
leaf he'd been twirling between his fingers.

        "Yes?"

        His eyes met mine.  "I admire you."

        Admire?  Admiration is nice, but why can't you love me, Neil MacNeill?
I thought.  I forced a smile in an effort to hide my disappointment.  "I
admire you too, Doctor."

        Neil studied me intently.  Was there more he wanted to say?  I waited,
hoping.  Then his expression changed to that unreadable mask I knew so
well.  "We'd best find Ruby Mae and Will before they think we've gotten
lost."

        "They're so in love, they probably haven't even noticed we're gone," I
joked.  

        He cleared his throat uncomfortably.  What a silly, girlish thing to
say!  I fumbled with a button on my coat.  Neil rubbed his hands
together and turned up the collar on his jacket.

        "It's getting cold.  Best get you back to the mission house and in
front of the fire.  Don't want you suffering a relapse," he said.  "Are
you warm enough?"

        I nodded, but cupped my hands in front of my mouth and blew to warm
them.

        "Didn't you bring gloves with you?" he scolded.

        "I forgot.  It's all right," I shrugged.  He took both of my hands and
covered them with his own.  His huge hands swallowed mine up, and it
only took a moment for the chill to disappear.

        "Better?"

        "Yes," my voice cracked.  I wasn't ready to let go yet.  His calloused
hands were pleasant to the touch.

        "Shall we find the others?" he asked.

        "I guess so."  

        Neil straightened his arms, but didn't let go of my left hand with his
right.  We took several steps, and the thought crossed my mind how safe
and comfortable I felt.  Ahead we heard the Beck's voices.  We hiked up
the trail to find the young couple.  I'd forgotten that I was holding
Neil's hand until I saw the mischievous grin on Ruby Mae's face.

******
        The fire crackled in the fireplace.  It was cozy in the parlor.  I sat
on the sofa with my feet curled up under me and a quilt on my lap.  Ida,
who had finished her third sweater that week, was busy in the kitchen
washing our dinner dishes.  David was in his bunkhouse working on his
upcoming sermon.  Miss Alice and I sat in the parlor knitting
contentedly.

        Well, Alice was knitting contentedly.  I was chewing on the end of my
needle, lost in thought.

        "Thee must be pondering something profound," Alice said.

        "Hmmm. . .," I set down my knitting.  "Miss Alice, are men always this
confusing?"

        "Men?"

        I didn't know how to proceed, but I was terribly confused.  Miss Alice
had always been such a good listener.  Maybe she could help.

        "Men in general," she asked, "or one man in particular?"

        I fumbled with some yarn.  "One in particular."

        "It's Neil, isn't it?"

        "How did you know?" I asked her.

        She reached over and caressed my cheek.  "Dear Christy, I may not be a
young woman, but I have eyes."

        "Are my feelings that obvious?"

        A smile tugged at Miss Alice's lips.  "So what is it about Neil that
confuses you?"

        "Well, in the time that I've lived in the Cove, my feelings toward him
have changed from dislike to frustration to respect to admiration to. .
. to something else."

        "Something else?"

        Suddenly I felt very self-conscious.  I couldn't bring myself to say it
to Miss Alice.  After all, the object of my affection had been her
daughter's husband.

        The Quaker woman waited quietly.  A burned out long in the fireplace
collapsed, causing a shift in the glowing embers.

        "Miss Alice, I'm going to tell you something - something I haven't told
anyone.  When I was sick, something wonderful happened to me."  I
proceeded to share with her my journey to the edge of heaven - how I'd
seen Fairlight, how I'd been drawn to her, to the light, to the sheer
majesty - until I heard someone calling me desperately.  I told her
about Neil's prayer and how, when he finished, a healing power had
flowed through my body.  "I don't think I've ever been loved that way by
anyone," I concluded, "not even my parents."

        There were tears shimmering in Miss Alice's eyes.

        "And that's when I first realized that I cared a great deal about him,
too," I continued.  "My feelings had grown so slowly, so quietly, I
hadn't noticed.  Now my problem is this: I've discovered these wonderful
new feelings for him, but I really don't know how he feels about me."

        "But, Christy, didn't he tell you with his prayer?"

        "Well, maybe.  I mean, I'm sure he meant it when he said it, but I was
dying.  I can't tell if he still fells that way now or not.  Dr.
MacNeill is such a kind, concerned physician; he may have prayed those
words for any one of his patients."

        "But he didn't," Miss Alice said, leaning forward.  "He prayed them for
you."

        "True, but his behavior since then has been so. . . so. . .
inconsistent."  I sighed.  "There are times when we look at each other
that I think he does care about me.  But then, moments later, he acts
indifferent.  I just can't understand him."

        "Patience is a virtue.  Remember that it's been a long while since Neil
has had such feelings.  I imagine he's as confused as thee are."

        "Do you really think so?"

        "That is for you and Neil to discover," Miss Alice replied.

        I stared into the flames and a smile crept over my lips.  Maybe, just
maybe, Dr. MacNeill loved me the way I loved him.  Only time would
tell.  I just hoped that time would not be too slow in the telling.

******




CHAPTER SEVEN - SCHOOL HOUSE PROJECT

        I awoke early the next morning.  In less than a week, I'd be going home
to visit my parents.  After a week with them, I would be back in the
Cove three days before the start of the new school term.  There was so
much to be done and not much time to do it.  

        First on the agenda was to clean up the school house.  Granted, Ida had
kept it straightened up well enough for Sunday services, but it was
ready for a good scrub down.  I was feeling better and my strength was
slowly returning.  Although I might not be able to clean the entire
school room top to bottom in a single day, I could make some progress.

        I found a broom, scrub brush and bucket in the kitchen, pulled some
rags from the mission barrels, and made my way over to the school
house.  The solitude of the place beckoned me.  In my mind, I could hear
Mountie and little Vella Holt singing rhymes and Reverend Creed Allen
leading a game of "funeral."  How different this year would be from last
year!  My mind was overflowing with ideas - many of them from my book,
"Among the Danes," about the Danish folk schools.  

        Of course we would continue with our reading, spelling, history,
mathematics, Bible and science classes, oh and how could I forget
Latin?  I chuckled inwardly.  In addition, I wanted to introduce some
practical skills for the older children like nutrition and cooking for
the girls and woodworking and cabinet making for the boys.  And I wanted
Granny Barclay to help me organize the older girls and the women to
revive the almost lost art of weaving.

        My mind raced as I swept the floor, then scrubbed it.  Occasionally, I
would stop to scribble down my ideas and rest.  I was going to miss Ruby
Mae as my chief assistant, but Zady would be a good replacement, "if she
is able to attend school, that is," I said aloud.  I wiped the
perspiration from my brow.  Poor Zady!  Such promise, such potential. 
Please, Lord, I prayed, at least let Zady come to school a little bit. 
Don't let her spirit be crushed by the weight of her new
responsibilities!

        By lunchtime, the school house was looking much improved.  I stood in
the doorway to survey my work.  The floor was scrubbed and the desks
were dusted.  I hesitated to erase the stick men that Wanda Ann Beck had
drawn on the blackboard during our "vacation school" before Lundy had
come down with the fever.  

        I glanced up and noticed a large cobweb in the corner.  I grabbed the
broom and dragged one of the desks over against the wall.  Lifting my
skirts, I climbed onto the desk.  Even on tiptoe, and waving the broom,
I was unable to reach that cobweb.  This was a job for David. 

        I wiped my face with a clean rag as I made my way over to David's
bunkhouse.  It had been a productive morning, but I was tired.  A nap
might be nice this afternoon.  As I neared David's place, I could hear
voices.  David had company, and he must have had his windows open to
enjoy the autumn breeze.  As I stepped onto his tiny porch, I recognized
Dr. MacNeill's voice, and my heart skipped a beat.  It sounded like he
was reading something.

        "For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves;
it is the gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast." 
(Ephesians 2:8-9)  There was a pause, then Dr. MacNeill spoke.  "By
*grace* are ye saved through *faith*. . .  David, I never understood
what a gracious and merciful God He is.  Even after I doubted Him,
ignored Him, even cursed Him, He loved me."  David and Neil were having
a Bible study!  I knew I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I couldn't pull myself
away.

        "That's what grace is all about, Neil," I heard David say.  "Salvation
is a gift.  We don't deserve it.  You know, I've learned so much since I
came here.  I used to think that I could earn my way into heaven. 
Serving in Cutter Gap sure seemed like the kind of place to do it, too. 
But what I really discovered is that however hard I tried, I could never
accomplish my vision for the Cove.  And the harder I tried, the more
mixed up things got.  Miss Alice tried to tell me, but I wouldn't
listen.  ‘Clean up the pigsty; but if pigs still live there, soon it
will be the same old pigsty,' she said.  ‘Preach the gospel, David,' she
told me.  But I didn't.  I kept trying to clean up the pigsty, and only
ended up inflaming an already volatile situation.  

         "I wonder if Tom would be alive today if I'd listened to her. . ." he
mused.

        "That's something you can never know, David," Neil said.  "But think
about how God was able to use even that situation to bring men's souls
to Him - the change in Opal, I'm sure you've noticed it, not to mention
Bird's-Eye.  If everything had not happened exactly as it did - even
Lundy's illness and death - Bird's-Eye would still be the most
unrepentant sinner in the Cove, and bootlegging and feuding would rage
on."

        "Talk about miracles!"  David said.  "It's the most incredible thing
I've ever seen or heard."

        "I know of one miracle even more amazing."

        "What's that?"

        "My own salvation.  I won't go into details, but when I let go of my
own will and submitted myself to His, I suddenly understood that His way
is the only way.  How foolish I had been, thinking that I, as a doctor,
could save lives.  The power of life and death does not rest in these
hands.  I was arrogant.  I thought that my crude skills and limited
knowledge were so valuable.  But they are nothing, absolutely nothing,
compared to what God can do."

        I decided that the cobwebs could wait and slipped away from the
bunkhouse.

        In the mission house kitchen, I prepared myself a light lunch.  I was
rather hungry, but I was also anxious to get back to my work.  Munching
on a thick slice of Ida's coffee cake and carrying an apple in my
pocket, I returned to the school.  It was time to wash the windows.  I
dunked a rag into my bucket of fresh water, sloshed it against a window
and began to scrub.

        The doctor's words stuck in my brain.  So he *had* meant that prayer of
his!  Clearly he was sincere about surrendering his life to God - I'd
seen evidences of that already - but what about his love for me?  Did he
love me the way my heart hoped he did?  If he did, why wouldn't he tell
me?  Or had he tried to tell me?  "I admire you," he'd said, but what
did he really mean?   I stood at the window, lost in thought.

        Suddenly, I smelled the faint odor of tobacco smoke.  Turning, I saw
Neil leaning against the doorjamb and smoking his pipe, his hands
stuffed in his pockets.  He looked a picture of contentment.  How long
had he been there?

        "Hello, Dr. MacNeill.    I. . . didn't hear you come in."

        "Afternoon, Christy.  You've been working hard today," he said, his
eyes scanning the room then focusing on me.  "How are you feeling?"

        "Tired, but happy."

        "So that was a little break you were taking just now?" he asked with a
grin.

        My face grew warm.  If he only knew that I'd been thinking about him!  

        He held his hand out to me.  "Here, if you'll give me that rag, I can
help you finish up in no time."

        "Many hands make light work," I quipped, "but isn't washing windows
women's work?"

        "I won't tell if you won't.  Why don't you sit down at your desk and
rest?  That way you can keep me company and be a lookout to see if
anyone's coming."

        "Fair enough."  I cast about in my mind for something else to say, but
all I could think about was the conversation I'd overheard between him
and David.  The school was silent except for the sound of water
splashing in the bucket as Neil wrung out the rag.

        "Um. . ." I cleared my throat.  "Did you hear that Bird's-Eye and Opal
are getting married?"

        "Pretty amazing, isn't it?" Neil replied, his pipe clenched in his
teeth as he scrubbed.  "Did you know way back when, before Opal knew
Tom, Bird's-Eye courted her?"

        I nodded.  "Opal told me."

        "I was just a lad then," he said.  "Bird's-Eye had a pretty tough home
life.  In fact, he ran away for a while - about seven years - he was
hard then, but not hateful.  He and Opal were getting along pretty well
when the McHones came over from Low Gap for a cousin's wedding.  Tom
took one look at Opal and was smitten.  Didn't take long at all for the
two of them to start courting.  Well, you knew Tom," he said.  "He had a
gentle way about him."

        As do you, I thought, and women do find that very attractive.

        He carried the rag to the next window.  "Well, that must have been the
last straw for Bird's-Eye.  He started getting ornery after that.  And
one day he just disappeared.  Showed up in the Cove about five years
later with a wife and a little boy.  Of course, by then, Bird's-Eye was
stock full of hate.  Don't think he treated his family very well. 
Wasn't long before his wife was gone.  Went back to her kin in Lyleton,
so folks say."

        "Whatever happened to her?" I asked.  "I mean, if she's still living,
how can he marry Opal?"

        "Funny you should mention that."  He dropped the rag in the bucket and
sat on the edge of my desk.  "Evidently, Bird's-Eye traveled down to
Lyleton a couple weeks ago to find out about her.  Turns out she died
from pneumonia about three years back.  The family never even tried to
find him.  Guess they didn't think he'd care."

        I tried to fathom the pitiful life of Mrs. Taylor, a woman so
miserable, she left her child to escape an abusive husband.  I could
understand why the family wouldn't search Bird's-Eye out, but I wondered
how he felt about it now.

        "Word around the Cove is that Uncle Bogg isn't too keen on the union
between him and Opal," Neil continued.  "Doesn't trust this new
Bird's-Eye."

        "And what do you think?" I asked.

        He reached back and fingered the hair on his neck.  "I do trust him. 
If you'd asked me a month ago, my answer would be different, but now I
know first-hand how a man can be transformed.  I think Bird's-Eye will
be a good husband and father.  A man who sees the error of his ways and
is given a second chance will work twice as hard."

******

CHAPTER EIGHT - THE WEDDING

        Bird's-Eye and Opal had decided that it would be best for them to marry
as soon as possible.  The wedding was to be held in the church, with the
reception taking place in the mission house the week before I left for
home.

        The mission house was in a constant flurry of activity during the days
leading up to the wedding.  Miss Alice, Ida and I baked like we never
had before, with several of the mountain women stopping by to help when
they could.  There were more pies and cakes than I'd ever seen in my
life at one time, including at the Asheville Women's Society bake sale. 
This was going to be quite a celebration.  After all, we were
celebrating more than the union of these two souls; we were celebrating
the close of a chapter of hatred and feuding in the Cove.

        Finally the big day arrived.  Opal was wearing a white embroidered
shirtwaist of mine, along with one of Ida's skirts.  A delicate square
of lace was her veil; she'd worn it at her wedding to Tom, too, she told
me, and they'd had a lot of happiness.

        "You look beautiful," I whispered to Opal as we walked from the mission
house over to the church.  Several guests had arrived and were milling
about in the yard.  The hum of voices grew quiet as we approached and
everyone admired the bride.

        "You're a-lookin' fancy fine, Maw!" Toot squeaked, running over to
greet his mother.  

        Before long, it was time for the ceremony to begin.  The crowd was
somewhat quieter than usual for a mountain wedding, and I surmised that
it related to the fact that Bird's-Eye had held firmly to his decision
not to include a race for Black Betty as part of the festivities.  

        "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God and
these witnesses.  ." David looked quite handsome in his ministerial
garb, and Opal was truly radiant.  Even Bird's-Eye was clean-shaven, and
his old coat was clean with some new patches covering up the holes.  I
sighed at the tender way the mountain man looked at his bride, wishing
that someday a man would look at me that way.  

        I stood at the door in the back of the sanctuary, taking everything
in.  Why, there was Lety Coburn.  I hadn't seen her since that day in
her cabin.  And Will and Ruby Mae Beck, even Duggin Morrison and his
common-law wife were there.  I spotted Dr. MacNeill sitting near the
front with his wild hair combed back in an attempt at orderliness, but
even so, a few strands had decided to rebel, refusing to lie flat.  I
smiled.  How hard he must have worked to achieve the control he had. 
All he really needed was a simple haircut.

        "Now if there be any who have just cause that these two should not be
joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

        Suddenly someone pushed past me into the church.  It was Uncle Bogg
McHone.  "I got jusht cause!" he slurred, making his way down the
aisle.  "Thish man's a Taylor.  And the Taylors has spilt McHone blood. 
There cain't be no marryin' betwixt us."

        The look on the groom's face was one of horror and heartbreak.  He had
risen above his own hatred and had worked for and received Opal's
forgiveness.  Now Bogg's hatred would keep him from realizing his dream.

        The old man turned to Opal.  "Woman, I'm ashamed of ye.  Lettin' the
paw of the man that killed yore own husband court ye.  Why, Tom weren't
hardly cold in his grave afore he. . ."

        "That's enough, Bogg," David thundered.  "Kindly take your seat, or
leave."  He looked down at his Bible to continue with the ceremony.

        "But I done objected to thish here marriage!" Bogg cried.  "And seein'
as how I'm the bride's next o' kin, ye'd best be listenin' Preacher."

        Some of the men joined in.  "He's right, Preacher."  "Won't be a proper
weddin' if'n he don't agree to hit."  "Fine lot this is!"

        David raised his hands to silence the crowd.  "Everyone please calm
down.  Let's sort this out.  Mr. McHone, Mr. Taylor, Opal, why don't we
step outside and get this resolved?" he said ushering the involved
parties to the door.

        "Only one way I know to get it resolved," Bogg snarled.  

        "That's enough, Bogg."  The group walked out into the yard, out of
earshot.  Miss Alice had quietly left the church and stood with them.  I
strained to hear them.  I heard the soothing tones of Miss Alice's
voice, but couldn't make out the words.  Bird's-Eye stood ramrod
straight, occasionally nodding his head stiffly at Alice's comments. 
Uncle Bogg was clearly agitated and continually shook his head no,
although Opal was pulling on his arm and pleading with him.

        I was no longer alone in the doorway.  The members of the congregation
had risen from their seats and were crowding the door.  "What a mess," I
heard the familiar voice of Neil MacNeill behind me.

        "I feel terrible for Opal," I said, turning away from the scene to face
him.  He looked very handsome in my favorite tan corduroy shirt.  "I
hate to see it turn out this way."  And I'd so foolishly thought that
the feuding had ended!

        "Have faith, Christy," Neil whispered.  "Miss Alice is out there, and
she can work wonders."

        I smiled up at him.  "True."  After all we wouldn't be standing here
today if it weren't for her.  I, for one, would never have imagined the
change in Bird's-Eye after Tom's death and Lundy's illness. . . so much
had happened.  It all seemed like ages ago, yet it had been just a few
short months.  I turned back to see what was happening in the yard.

        Bird's-Eye had his head bowed.  I saw him remove his hat and wipe his
forehead with his sleeve, or could it be his eyes he was wiping?  Uncle
Bogg looked somewhat subdued, and Opal wept silently.  It didn't appear
that the couple would be married today.

        Then Miss Alice said something that made Opal and Bird's-Eye raise
their heads in surprise.  Bogg looked a bit defensive as she spoke. 
Clumsily, he put a hand on Opal's shoulder, but she pulled away.  He
turned to Bird's-Eye and shoved him, knocking him back a few steps.  The
crowd in the doorway gasped.

        The groom stepped forward and took a deep breath.  

        "Don't do it, Bird's-Eye," I whispered.  "Dear God, please grant him
your patience, your wisdom." 

        He put a hand on Uncle Bogg's arm and said something to him.  I did not
see hostility in his stance.  He led Bogg away from the others, speaking
earnestly to him.  I don't think I'd ever known him to say more than two
or three sentences at a time, but he was over there pouring out a story
to the old man.  The look on Uncle Bogg's face was skeptical, but
attentive.  Then Bird's-Eye stood straight and proud, pointed his thumb
at his chest, said something else and waited for Bogg's response.  
        I looked over at David, and we exchanged quizzical glances.  Bogg
studied the repentant mountain man.  After what seemed like forever, the
two men shook hands and walked back to Opal.  Then the entire group made
their way back toward the church.

        "I'm a-takin' back my objection," Uncle Bogg announced loudly.  "Now I
aim to see these two get hitched."  A puzzled murmur circulated
throughout the congregation, but we dutifully resumed our seats, and the
remainder of the ceremony went without incident.

        The scene was quickly forgotten as a mountain of food was brought out
to the mission dining room and the parlor furniture was pushed back
against the walls to make room for the dancing.  We women were busy in
the kitchen, keeping pitchers of fruit juice full and replacing empty
pie plates with full ones.  I could hear the music drifting in from the
parlor, and I hummed along as I iced a carrot cake.

        I felt a tap on my shoulder and almost dropped the knife.  "Why Doctor
MacNeill!"

        "Hello, Christy."  He scratched his head.  "I know you're busy back
here in the kitchen, but I was hoping you might save a dance for me a
little later."  He sounded a bit unsure of himself, which was strange. 
Neil MacNeill had never been unsure of himself a day in his life.

        "Of course," I said.  "That is, if you really want me to."

        He grinned, and I could feel myself blushing.  "You bet."  He leaned
over and whispered in my ear.  "I'll be waiting."  Then he quickly stuck
a finger in the bowl of frosting and popped it in his mouth.  "Mmm.  Not
bad."  With that, he was gone.

        "Why don't thee go on, Christy," Miss Alice suggested.

        "Are you sure?"

        Miss Alice looked at me tenderly.  Was that a grin on her Quaker face?

        "Ida and I can handle things here for a while, can't we, Ida?"

        Ida nodded.  "All right, then," I said, "but holler if you need me."

        The celebration was in full swing when I walked through the dining room
and into the parlor.  As expected, Jeb Spencer was sawing away on his
fiddle, with his son John on the harmonica by his side.  David was
picking his ukelele, and a surprisingly happy Uncle Bogg called the
steps.  Neil, who'd been leaning against the fireplace talking with John
Holcombe, excused himself and met me in the middle of the dance floor.

        "Ready to wear out the soles of your shoes?" he asked.  I nodded, and
the two of us jumped right into the dancing group.  The song was one I'd
heard my students sing, but I'd never danced to it.  I knew from
previous experience, however, that I could count on the doctor to guide
me.  As the song ended, and a waltz took its place, Neil took my right
hand in his left, and slipped his other hand around to my back.  Several
of the dancers left the floor for some refreshments, and there were only
a handful of us still dancing.

        "I didn't know you could waltz, Doctor," I said.

        "Sure.  Treating typhoid fever and removing bullets aren't the only
things I learned in medical school.  And. . . my name's Neil." 

        He said it so tenderly, like there was another meaning behind the
words.  Subconsciously I must have understood, for I felt faint.  And
for a moment, I forgot everything.  There was no one in the world but
Neil and me.  

        Then I stepped on his toe.

        "Is that the way they dance the waltz in Asheville?" he asked.  "Sure
am glad I decided not to come barefoot today."

        How embarrassing!  "I waltz about as well as I knit, I guess."

        Neil threw back his head and laughed.  "Wish I'd known that before I
asked you."  He looked down at me and squeezed my hand.  "Seriously,
Christy, you could stomp all over both my feet, and I still wouldn't
trade it for anything."

        "Don't give me any ideas."  My heart raced inside my chest.  He sounded
like he was courting me.  But how could he be?  I was the young, naive,
city girl, who by the way, still wore a kerchief to cover her growing
hair.  "Oh, sorry," I said after stepping on his toe again.  "I really
don't know what's the matter with me today," I stammered.

        Neil grinned and we danced on in silence.  I was too busy making sure I
didn't land on his foot to try to keep up a conversation.  Finally the
music ended, and as the musicians tuned their instruments, we stood on
the dance floor and talked.

        "You about ready for the new school term?" he asked.

        "Getting there.  It will be so nice to be an experienced teacher
instead of a terrified one.   And I've got several new ideas for helping
the younger ones with their reading.  I can't wait to try them out."  I
shook my head.  "Can you believe that Vincent McHone will be joining
us?  My how they grow up!"

        "I know Mountie's ready to start school again," Neil said as the next
tune started up.  We continued our conversation as we danced.  "I was
over there the yesterday - Wilmer had a stomach ache - and I don't think
Mountie stopped chattering, other than to take a breath."

        I smiled.  Mountie was one of my success stories.  What a joy it had
been to see her little personality unfold like a delicate flower.  Life
in these mountains was hard, but it had its blessings.

        "What are you thinking, Christy?"  He asked, leading me in a promenade.

        "Life isn't easy here, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.  I think
because mountain life is such a struggle, it has more value somehow."

        "More value?"

        "Sure.  I mean, my life means more to me today, after surviving a bout
with typhoid fever, than it may ever have meant to me if I'd never left
Asheville.  Here in the Cove, I feel like I'm really living."

        "So what exactly was it that you were doing in Asheville?"  He had that
look on his face - like I was a small child who had a habit of seriously
saying amusing things.  What silly comment would I make next?

        "Well," I faced him for a do-si-do, "I guess I was just existing. 
Parties, shopping, school."

        "Doesn't sound all bad," Neil said.

        "What?" The music was getting louder.

        He leaned closer to me.  "Doesn't sound all bad!"

        "No, it was nice.  But my life was all planned out before me. 
Marriage, babies, the Women's Aid Society, sewing circles. . . Here I'm
making a difference.  My life counts for something."

        Neil twirled me. "But. . . don't you want to get married someday?"  He
had to shout for me to hear him above the singing and clapping.

        "Of course I do."  I yelled back.  "What young woman wouldn't?"

        He stopped dancing.  "I meant to me."

        "WHAT?"  I asked.

        "I SAID," he bellowed as the song ended, "WILL YOU MARRY ME, CHRISTY?"

        The room was completely silent.  Neil MacNeill had just proposed to
me!  Right here, in front of everyone.  And I thought he didn't love
me.  I still didn't understand how he could.

        "Well?"  He prompted.

        I looked around.  The whole Cove was watching me, waiting.  Miss Alice
stood in the doorway, a dish towel in her hand and a sparkle in her
eye.  Little Burl, Mountie, Creed, Ruby Mae. . . then I looked up at
Neil.  He wore a hopeful expression; it reminded me of the way
Bird's-Eye had looked at Opal.  "I love you," he whispered.  "And I have
for a long, long time."

        "I love you, too, Neil," I said, throwing my arms around his neck.  He
picked me up and spun me in a circle.  Within moments, we were
surrounded by well-wishers.  It didn't seem real.  I was going to marry
him; I was actually going to marry him!  Why, just this morning, I'd
spent far too long getting dressed, trying to come up with a way to
improve my sickly appearance, hoping that somehow I could capture the
doctor's heart, never dreaming that I already had.

******

        

CHAPTER NINE - THE PICNIC

        Jeb Spencer and Neil sat in the kitchen, Jeb quietly playing his fiddle
as we women cleaned up after the reception.  Bird's-Eye and Opal had
been sent merrily on their way back to Opal's cabin.  The boys would be
spending the next couple of days with us at the mission house.  In fact,
they were outside playing with the younger Spencer children.  I felt as
if I were floating; Neil loved me, and we were going to be married!

        "Thank you for lightening our work load with your music, Mr. Spencer,"
Miss Alice said.

        "It's a pleasure, ma'am.  You-all have lightened my heart with yore
kindness.  Ever' now and again, I get to feelin' awful lonesome-like,
missin' my Fairlight.  But I know that I ken come over here and you
‘uns'll peart me up considerable."

        Ida turned to Jeb.  "I'm sure you didn't get to eat much.  I don't
think I ever heard you stop playing that fiddle.  You must be starved." 
She picked up a knife and waved it over several pie plates.  "What kind
of pie would you like?"

        "Waaal, now," Jeb said, licking his lips and looking over his choices. 
"How ‘bout a piece of that apple pie thar?"  He pointed. 

        She cut a thick slice of the requested pie.  I could see that she was
pleased that he'd selected one of hers.  The mountain man grunted as he
ate.  "Doc, when you and Miz Christy think you'll be a-gettin' married?"
he asked with a mouth full of pie.

        "We haven't had a chance to talk about that yet, but soon, I hope."  He
winked at me.

        Jeb laughed.  "We all was wonderin' if'n ye'd ever get around to
courtin' her," he said laying his fork down on the empty plate.  Neil
cleared his throat and tugged at his shirt collar.

        "Well, the important thing is that he did," Miss Alice said.  Neil shot
her a look of gratitude.

        "Been a right nice day today," Jeb commented, standing.  "Best be
gettin' the young'uns on home now."  He put on his worn felt hat and
picked up his fiddle.  "Obleeged to ye for the pie, Miz Ida." 

******

        I awoke early the next morning.  Neil had told me he wanted to take me
on a picnic to a special spot he knew.  We had so many things to talk
about, so much to plan!  I couldn't wait to see him again.

        After washing my face and getting dressed, I went downstairs to
supervise the preparation of the picnic lunch.  To my surprise, Ida was
nowhere to be found.  A basket of food neatly packed was sitting on the
kitchen table.

        "Miss Ida?"  I called.

        David walked in from the parlor.  "She's out this morning.  Left early
to deliver some of the sweaters.  Took the McHone boys with her.  But
she wanted me to tell you that your lunch is all prepared," he added
waving toward the basket.  "Funny how ever since the epidemic, she's
gotten interested in the children - in all the mountain people.  I never
would have imagined. . ."

        "God works wonders in these mountains.  I know I've changed during the
short time I've been here."

        David smiled at me.  "I haven't had the chance to tell you yet, but. .
. I'm happy for you, Christy."

        "Thank you, David."

        He studied the ground for a moment.  "Well, I've got to go down to El
Pano, so I'd best be off."  He looked at me intently before striding
out.

        I was tempted to dig through Ida's basket to see what she'd prepared
for us, but I resisted the urge.  A surprise would be more fun, I told
myself.  I retrieved a quilt from the closet and set it beside the
basket.  What else would we need for our picnic?  It seemed like
everything was ready.  All that was missing was Neil.

        I picked up the copy of "Ben-Hur" I'd been studying and took it onto
the porch to wait.  The boys in my class would enjoy reading it during
the coming term, especially the part about the chariot race.  After
reading the same paragraph four times and still not knowing what I'd
read, I realized that I was too excited for reading.            
        
        Just then Neil arrived, riding Charlie.  His eyes crinkled with a smile
as I hurried down the steps to greet him.  "Good morning!" he said
dismounting.  He faced me and took my hand in his.  "Don't you look
pretty today!"

        I looked down at the reddish-blonde curls on his hand.  "I. . . why,
thank you, Neil," I said meeting his gaze.  "Our picnic lunch is all
ready.  Where are we going, exactly?"

        "It's a surprise.  I don't think you've ever been there before, but I
think you'll like it.  It's a favorite spot of mine from my growing up
days."

******  
        Neil's spot was beautiful.  We tethered our horses just off of the
trail toward Raven Gap.  "This way," Neil said grabbing my hand.  He led
me through some brush to a large outcropping of rock.  He climbed up,
then turned to help me.  "This is it."

        We stood on a rock on the edge of the mountaintop.  The deep blues and
greens of the Smokies rolled out before us in all their majesty.  It was
breathtaking.

        Feeling dizzy, I stepped back from the edge.  I remembered seeing a
tree nearby, and I backed toward it with small steps.  Finally, feeling
the security of the tree behind me, I could breath more easily.

        "Christy?"  Neil turned to find me gone.  "Christy!" he exclaimed as he
spotted me.  "Don't you like my mountain vista?"

        "Oh, I love it, Neil.  I just get a little queasy with heights
sometimes."

        He strolled over to me, resting his arm on the tree above my head. 
"Feel better now?"  I was glad I had the tree for support as he gazed
down at me, his amber eyes burning into my very soul.  

        Neil leaned closer.  His nearness made me weak.  Ever so gently, he
touched his lips to mine, then pulled away.  "I've wanted to do that for
a long time," he breathed.  I responded by wrapping my arms around his
neck and kissing him.  After a few moments, he disentangled himself from
my embrace.

        "Whoa, Christy!  Let's save some romance for our wedding night."  I
giggled nervously.  "And speaking of our wedding, when is it going to be
exactly?  The sooner, the better as far as I'm concerned," he added with
an impish grin.

        "I've been thinking about that.  I'll telephone my parents with the
news when we get back to the mission; it was too late to call last night
after the festivities, you know.  And I'm going home next week anyway. 
Maybe Mother and I can get a lot of the planning done while I'm there. 
Then we can get married during the spring planting break.  How does that
sound?"

        Neil laughed at my chatter.  "The spring holiday is a long way away,
and it's supposed to be an awfully cold winter. . ."

        "Oh, Neil, I'd like to get married right now, too, but I can guarantee
you that Mother just wouldn't have it."  I straightened the collar on
his corduroy jacket.  "You will wait for me, though, won't you?"

        He gave an exaggerated sigh, but I saw the twinkle in his eye.  "I've
waited this long; I can wait a little longer."  He lightly brushed my
forehead with a finger.  I reached around and hugged him tightly.  I was
the luckiest girl on earth.

        As I pulled away and opened my mouth to speak, my kerchief slipped off
my head and fell to the ground.  Quickly I tried to cover my head with
my hands.  Neil must have seen the look of horror on my face, for he
bent down and kissed the top of my head.   He cupped my chin in his
hands.  

        "Don't you know that you're beautiful to me?"

        I felt my eyes fill with tears.  I didn't dare blink for fear that they
would spill down my cheek.  "How can you say that?" I choked.  "I look
like. . . like a plucked chicken!"  My eyes overflowed, and I couldn't
stop the stream.

        Neil held me close and let me cry.  I felt the deep rumble in his chest
as he spoke.  "But don't you understand, Christy?"

        I looked up at him, confused.

        He wiped away one of my tears with his thumb.  "You're *my* plucked
chicken, and I couldn't love you more."

        I laughed as a fresh stream of tears coursed down my face.  "I. . .
love. . . you. . . too," I sputtered.
        
EPILOGUE

        Although Neil had been worried that my father would reject his request
for my hand in marriage, our visit to Asheville was wonderful, and my
father happily gave us his blessing.  After all, Neil was the man who
had seen me through typhoid fever.  Father had the proof that he would
take care of me. 

        The next four months passed slowly and quickly at the same time.  It
was all I could do to stay ahead of the children in their studies; the
weaving project was a raging success, although I spent a great deal of
time orchestrating lessons and then coming up with a schedule so that
everyone could take turns using Granny Barclay's ancient loom, which
we'd set up in the yard near the mission house.  

        Neil visited often, and it was then that I felt like the spring would
never come.  Our stolen moments or even hours together were delightful,
but how I hated to say goodbye!  Each night I would mark the day off my
calendar with a big red ‘X' and count down until our wedding day.

        Meanwhile, Ida had taken an interest in helping with the school, and
she organized the cooking classes.  I noticed her taking a special
interest in Clara and Zady, and I assumed that was her way of helping
the two girls cope with their mother's passing and the responsibilities
that came with it.  She'd often send them home with an extra pie or
special dish they'd prepared together.  I could see a change in Ida as
she got to know the mountain people; she had a sense of purpose and
fulfillment that had been lacking when I first arrived.  And then I
realized that Jeb Spencer was coming around more and more often, and I
saw the stiff and stern woman become smiles and sweetness in his
presence.  Jeb's heart still had wounds that needed healing, but Ida
seemed content to wait.
                
        Then finally our big day arrived.  The wedding took place in Asheville,
then after a three-day trip to Knoxville, we returned to Cutter Gap and
established our home.  The folks in the Cove threw us a welcome home
celebration, one I'll never forget.  And afterwards, my husband and I
took a romantic stroll along the river.  The evening was cool, the
leaves wet with dew, and the fragrance of honeysuckle hung thickly in
the air.

        Neil took my hand in his.  "Aaaah, there's nothing like a walk in the
woods in the springtime."

        "Only one thing is better," I added.  He gave me a sideways glance. 
"And that's a walk in the woods in the springtime with *you*."

THE END!          

******