Title: Snowed Inn Author: Angela M. Disclaimer: This short story was written for the express purpose of the author's (and hopefully, the reader's) enjoyment. The story of Christy belongs to the LeSourd family, and I in no way am seeking to infringe upon their rights or to profit from the writing of this story. SNOWED INN "Miss Alice!" Ruby Mae's voice resonated from the parlor of the mission house to the kitchen where Alice was carefully crimping the edges of one last pie crust. Wiping flour-covered fingers on her apron, she walked toward the sound of the young girl's voice, her pace quickening when Ruby Mae again called out, this time more pleadingly. "Miss Alice!!! You gotta help me!" Alice had to resist the urge to smile with the sight before her. Ruby Mae stood bracing the Christmas tree, which was leaning so far to one side that it appeared it might topple over if she left her position. "Ruby Mae, how on earth..." Alice began, bending down to try to right the wayward tree. "Well, the star looked like it was about to fall off, so's I reached to straighten it up, and...oh, it's jest like me to go 'n make somethin' worse by tryin' to fix it." A groan emanating from Alice brought Ruby Mae's attention back to the task at hand. "Kin you fix it, Miss Alice? Want me to call for the preacher?" "No, no...the two of us together are perfectly capable of correcting this situation, Ruby Mae." At last Alice stood up again, swept a few stray needles from her blouse, and then surveyed the tree from a few feet back. "There now, it's as good as new." A blast of frigid air swept into the room with the opening of the door, and David stepped quickly inside the parlor. "It's cold beyond words out there!" He removed his gloves and stood in front of the fireplace, holding his hands out in front of him. "If no one shows up to this party, I wouldn't blame them." "Oh no, Preacher! Folks just gotta show up. We been workin' too hard to get ready for this party." "Well, I don't mean to dissappoint you, Ruby Mae, but there is a strong likelihood that people will decide it's much too cold to leave the warmth of their own homes on a night like tonight." "But everything we done will just be wasted if'n we can't have a party! All those pies and cakes we baked and cuttin' down a tree and decorating it and dusting and bringing in spruce boughs so the mission house'd smell good and..." Alice placed a hand on Ruby Mae's shoulder, quieting the girl. "Ruby Mae, even if no one comes to the mission Christmas party, you and I and the Preacher and Miss Huddleston will still be able to enjoy all of this. And the food will keep until we can deliver it to our neighbors." "That's right," David agreed, reclining on the davenport. "We'll just bask in the warmth of the fire in the fireplace and drink hot cider. We can read the story of Christmas from the Bible, and..." he asked, his head cocked to one side, "is that tree's angle a bit off?" "No, I think it looks just fine," Alice said. Ruby Mae nodded her head in affirmation. "Looks okay to me." David shrugged. "Where's Christy?" "Upstairs, finishing wrapping the gifts for the children. Speaking of which, why don't you run upstairs and help her, Ruby Mae? I think everything else has been finished down here." "I'm finished, too," Christy answered, her voice practically a whisper. She descended the last few stairs, carrying a large basket filled to overflowing with presents wrapped in brown paper. "Thy voice is not getting any better, I am afraid." "Well, I don't feel bad, at least." "Even so, I think it would serve you well to stop talking for a bit." "Stop talking?" Ruby Mae exclaimed, taking the basket from Christy. "Yes, Ruby Mae, it is possible," Alice told her. "For some of us, anyhow," David teased. "Come with me, Miss Huddleston. Some hot tea might help that creaking voice of yours." He offered her his arm, which she took, and smiled as they strode out of the room. Ruby Mae grinned and went to the window, hoping to see a few guests arriving for the party. All she saw were trees that looked as if they had been frozen solid. At least the wind was not blowing ferociously. The sky gave no indication that snow was on its way, either. Her thoughts were interrupted by a log in the fireplace crackling loudly. "Oh, no..." "What is it, child?" Alice was arranging the greenery on the mantle. "The fire poppin' and hissin' like that. And see how the smoke is rising up so fast in those wispy curls? It means snow's on its way." Alice smiled at Ruby Mae's certainty. "Well, if it does snow, we'll have a white Christmas. Perfect for the first snow of the season." ~~*~~ In spite of her fears that the party was not to be, an hour later Ruby Mae had happily greeted several families at the front door of the mission house, and now the parlor was filled. The older ones sat visiting, while most of the children had gathered around Jeb Spencer. The Spencers had been the first to arrive, and now Jeb stood, one foot upon the piano bench, fiddle in hand, playing every lively tune that came to his head. Everyone who had wanted any was supplied with hot apple cider or coffee, and those scents mingled with that of evergreen reminded Christy of the Christmas parties that her parents hosted in Asheville each holiday season. She missed them, and felt somewhat guilty for not returning home. Christy knew that her presence would be missed, and tried not to picture her parents and brother sitting around the table for Christmas dinner, her chair empty. She would attempt to call them on the telephone the next morning. Maybe hearing each other's voices, even though she had very little of one left, would make being apart easier to bear. Still, the homesickness was something she carried around with her - a light burden, perhaps - but there nonetheless. "Miss Christy, ain't it wonderful so many has showed up? I was starting to lose hope there for a while." Christy nodded her head at Ruby Mae's excitement. "Yes, I'm glad so many could make it. Why don't you help me bring out the pies and cakes now?" "Oh, I just know that everyone'll be plum tickled to taste all the different kinds we got." As the two passed by, the front door swung open widely. The sudden flow of chill air caused all who sat nearby to look up as Neil entered the room, clad in his heavy coat, gloves, hat, and riding boots. "Doc MacNeill, come in," Ruby Mae said. "Gosh, I think the whole Cove is here now!" "From the looks of things, I'd say you're right," Neil remarked, removing his hat and gloves. "Would you like some coffee or hot cider?" Christy offered. "Some coffee sounds as if it would hit the spot." A few of the children gathered around Neil, begging, "Doc MacNeill! Tell us a story! Please!" and "Kin ye spin us one of your yarns?" "One cup of coffee then," Christy announced, laughing at the children's begging. She turned toward the kitchen. Neil caught her arm before she could leave. "Miss Huddleston, no one told me you'd been sick." "Well, I'm fine now, really," she told him, her voice raspy. "Ruby Mae and I were just bringing out the desserts." Neil turned his attention to the children, saying, "You'll have to give me some time to think up a good story to tell, boys and girls. Go save a spot for me by the fire." He then followed Christy and Ruby Mae into the kitchen. "Ruby Mae, do you think you can find someone else to help you?" "Well, sure, I guess so," Ruby Mae answered, looking up at Neil questioningly. "Neil..." Christy began. "Shhh, now. We're going to have a look at that throat of yours. No use insisting you're okay, either. It will only strain your vocal cords further." Christy resigned herself, all but plopping into a chair. She watched as he picked up a small oil lamp, sat down beside her, and held it up close to her face. "Open and say 'aaaaahhh,' please." Christy did as he instructed, feeling slightly silly and hoping no one else entered the kitchen. "So you've had a cold?" "Yes, but it's been several days since the worst of it." Neil replaced the oil lamp on the table and felt along Christy's jawline, searching for swollen glands. Christy noticed how warm his fingers were, despite having just come from outside. "Well, you seem to be recovering well except for the laryngitis. I'm surprised you've been able to teach this way - or maybe all that talking only exacerbated the problem." "Classes were dismissed for Christmas a few days ago. I've hardly been..." Neil placed a finger on Christy's mouth. "Shhh. You're going to have to be quiet now if you want to get your voice back any time soon." "There's a party going on out there that..." "...will go on regardless of whether or not you utter a sound. Now, I want you to listen to me. There will be no more talking tonight on the part of a young, quite stubborn schoolteacher I know. Understood?" Christy raised her eyebrows at Neil's order. "Christy?" She nodded her head, giving in to him. "Okay, now for the next course of action. We'll need a tea kettle filled with water." Neil stood up and Christy pointed toward the back of the stove. He opened the door to the stove and added more wood to the fire. "Miss Christy, I wondered where you'd gotten off to," Fairlight announced as she entered the kitchen. "What are you doing hiding off in the kitchen?" She placed a cuptowel over her arm and picked up two pies from the table. Christy started to answer her, but then nodded her head in the direction of Neil. "Very good, Miss Huddleston," Neil teasingly praised her. "She's about to have a treatment for her laryngitis, Fairlight. Won't take too long. Tell folks she'll be back shortly." ~~*~~ Subject: #2 e-mail "Snowed Inn" by Angela M. Date: Sat, 25 Dec 1999 02:12:00 EST From: MilSprings@aol.com To: sonja1@tsixroads.com ~~*~~ After everyone had eaten at least one piece of pie or cake, though most had more than one, the music resumed. David noticed the way that several of the children were eyeing the piano, most never having seen an instrument of such beauty. Sam Houston ran his hand along the dark wood, and David could tell that he wanted to touch the ivory keys. He managed to restrain himself, though, lest the fiddle music be interrupted by the discordant sounds of random piano notes. It had been David's family's tradition to sing carols at the piano every Christmas Eve. When he was very young, he would sit next to his mother on the bench while she played, and she would have to reach past him when the songs were more serious and full of low, sad-sounding notes. Remembering those times, David left the group and went to find Christy. Fairlight had told him earlier that she was in the kitchen, and he assumed she still was. "Christy?" He couldn't see her face, but he knew that it was her standing at the stove, a towel draped about her head. Neil stood next to her. "Now just breathe in as much of the steam as you can, without getting too close to the tea kettle." "What is she doing?" David asked. "Breathing in some steam. Good for the vocal cords when one has laryngitis." David walked around so that he could see Christy's face, somewhat in disbelief that this was going on in the midst of the party they had been planning for weeks now. "Are you okay?" he asked her. Christy nodded her head. "Well, I just came to see if you might be willing to play some carols for us on the piano. As far as I know, you're the only one here who knows how." "David..." she spoke. "Christy..." Neil interrupted. "Neil," David said, "it won't require her to talk at all. She just has to sit down and play." Christy removed the towel from around her head and glared at David. "I know. I know you don't think you're that great of a pianist, but you don't give yourself enough credit. At least the songs are recognizable when you play them...oh, that didn't exactly come out the way that I meant it." "Go ahead, Reverend," Neil told him. "Flattery will get you nowhere." Ignoring the doctor's comment, David continued his campaign. "It would really mean a lot, Christy, to me and everyone else here, I think, if you'd play a few songs." Again, Christy gave in. She held up one finger, then pointed to the tea kettle, then held up two fingers and pointed in the direction of the parlor. "Okay, we'll be expecting you after you're finished here. Thanks, Christy." She nodded and replaced the towel over her head. "Oh, and I'll explain to everyone the situation with your voice," he added as he left the kitchen. "You can play 'Silent Night' first." ~~*~~ Christy would have never imagined so many people could fit around the Lyon and Healy, even if it was a concert grand piano. The schoolchildren stood around the sides, while the parents stood in back of them, holding the smallest children and babies. She was able to play the songs relatively well, although she certainly hit her share of wrong keys. Why hadn't she spent more time practicing as a girl? she wondered. All she could do now was play the carols from the hymnal as best she could, and everyone else joined in singing as best they could. The springy curls that had been the result of her spending an uncomfortable night wearing her hair rolled in cloth strips were now wilted away by the steam, but no one seemed to notice. Christy was glad of this, and blew back the one strand of hair that kept falling in her eyes. She smiled up at David, who appeared to be enjoying this sing-along more than anyone else. His brown eyes glistened, and she was glad that she had indulged his request to play. Neil stood beside David, pipe in hand, not singing, but smiling and seeming to enjoy listening to everyone else. Christy felt her cheeks grow warm when she noticed the way that a single stray, curly lock cascaded down Neil's forehead. She couldn't look at him directly now or he would notice that she was blushing, so she stared intently at the hymnal. What was it about this man that could make her feel this way? "Look!" Creed Allen called out, his voice heard above the carolers. He stood at the window, his face pressed against the glass. "It's snowing!" Immediately all of the children rushed toward the windows, creating a chorus of 'oohs' and 'ahhs' that sounded as lovely as any song that had been sung. "I just knowed it was gonna snow," Ruby Mae announced. "Didn't I tell you, Miss Alice, when the fire started popping snow earlier?" "You did indeed, Ruby Mae." Alice smiled at Ruby Mae's pride at being able to predict the weather. "Ma, reckon we can go outside and catch some flakes on our tongues?" Mountie O'Teale asked her mother. "Please?" "Fer a while, I s'pose," Swannie answered. "But not too long. I don't want you catchin' yer death a' cold." Mountie was the first out of the door, and soon almost everyone had left the warmth of the mission house to venture outside. Child and adult alike were in awe of the breathtaking beauty of the snowfall, and the joyous jumble of noises from only moments ago was now replaced by reverent quiet. The whiteness of the flakes as they descended from the inky starlit sky reminded Christy of a notion she'd held as a child - that the snowflakes were stars themselves, falling to earth to be with people. The memory brought with it a pang of homesickness; she wondered if her family in Asheville would have a white Christmas, too. "I'd ask you to tell me what you were thinking about, but I guess it will just have to wait." Unaware that he had been standing behind her, Christy smiled as Neil placed his coat around her shoulders. "There's something magical about snow - the first snowfall, anyway," Neil spoke, his voice quiet. Christy reached out her hand, watching the small flakes as they fluttered into her palm. Neil unbuttoned his vest and held out the black fabric enough so that some of the snowflakes were caught. Drawing Christy close to one of the windows of the mission house for light, she saw why he had done this. Several of the individual crystals could plainly be seen - each intricate pattern made clear as it stood out from the background of the dark material. "Beautiful," Neil said, looking back up at Christy. Christy's cheeks again began to grow warm. Momentarily forgetting her pledge not to talk, she asked, "How could God make all of them so wonderfully different?" Neil held up a finger to his own mouth. Christy had the distinct feeling that he was enjoying her talking moratorium; it was much harder for them to disagree when the conversations were one-sided. She wanted to call the children over to share in looking at the incredibly tiny structures of the snowflakes, but stopped when she realized Neil would scold her for giving an impromptu science lesson. Well, she could wait until the snow fell again during a school day this winter, as it surely would. The children could take their slates outside for catching the flakes. "These flakes are small. Must be a heavy snowfall a' comin'." Bob Allen seemed as confident in his prediction as Ruby Mae had earlier. "I knowed we'd have us a big storm sometime soon," Tom McHone agreed. "I seen lots of woolly cattypillars in August and September." "Mmmhmm. Lots of foggy days in August, too, " Uncle Bogg recalled. At this comment Christy looked up at Neil with a quizzical expression. He chuckled and explained, "Supposedly, for every foggy day in August, there will be a snowy day during the winter. You must remember, Christy, that these men have to depend on signs from nature to tell them what the weather will be. Their livelihood depends upon it." Jeb Spencer nodded. "And the leaves on the trees - they's lots thicker than usual. Lots more acorns and walnuts, too." Creed Allen piped up, "Yep, and Scalawag's fur is extra thick this year." "I guess we best git back inside now. C'mon, children," Fairlight called out. "Weeds was high this summer," Bogg continued as the group headed back inside. "Means the snow'll be deep in winter," Neil interpretted for Christy, who was marvelling at the number of ways the men figured that this winter would be a harsh one. "Yeah, and I 'spect Bird's-Eye prob'ly noticed that the corn shucks were a might thicker than normal this year, too," Bob Allen commented to Bogg in a quieter tone, followed by equally quiet laughing. ~~*~~ Subject: #3 e-mail "Snowed Inn" by Angela M. Date: Sat, 25 Dec 1999 02:36:28 EST From: MilSprings@aol.com To: sonja1@tsixroads.com ~~*~~ Once everyone was back inside, David gathered the children around the fireplace to pop corn, then took out his Bible to read the Christmas story. Several of the children took turns holding the corn popping pan over the flames as they listened to the ageless words that told of the first Christmas. Most of the adults were also listening to David's reading, even Neil, although he didn't appear to be. He stood further away from the group, quietly gazing out the window at the still falling snow. Christy noticed him standing there, and approached him as soon as she had helped Alice finish clearing away the empty pie plates, cups, and saucers. "Okay, doctor, now it's my turn to ask you what you're thinking about," she whispered. "Christy, you may be the most stubborn person I've ever met. You're bound and determined to talk tonight, aren't you?" Christy smiled at his reprimand but folded her arms, waiting for his reply. "Alright then. I was thinking of the preacher's story. How frightened Mary and Joseph must have been in that strange place, Mary about to give birth and being turned away from the inn." Christy nodded, prompting Neil to tell more. "My father used to read my family that story every Christmas Eve. I guess I'll never forget how protected and loved I felt, sitting there by the hearth with my parents. Being there with them in the warmth of our cabin while Mary and Joseph were being sent out to the stable made me feel very safe." Christy began to speak, then turned to the table behind her, opened the drawer and located a pencil and piece of paper. Neil watched as she hurriedly wrote down what she wanted to say. Christy handed him the slip of paper, and Neil read, " 'Home is where you make it.' I couldn't agree more, Miss Huddleston. And, I would add, home is not so much a place, but being with the people you care about." Christy nodded her head, and the two joined the rest of the group to finish listening to the story. Mountie's eyes gleamed when she saw her teacher sit down next to her. Christy reached her arm around the girl's shoulders, and Mountie rested her blond head against Christy's arm for the rest of the story. ~~*~~ After David closed his Bible and the popcorn was being passed around, Christy looked down to see that Mountie had fallen asleep. The rest of the children were quiet, too, as they dove into the popcorn, which Alice had topped with melted butter and salt. "Fairlight, snow's pickin' up outside," Jeb was saying to his wife. "We'd best be leavin' now or we'll have trouble even seein' our way home." The wind howled inside the chimney, as if to accentuate his words. "There must already be a good six inches on the ground," Tom McHone remarked. "Snow wasn't comin' down nearly so hard a while back." "C'mon, young'uns," Swannie called out. "Time fer us to head back to home 'fore it starts to snow even harder. Wind's pickin' up, too." Alice turned from staring out the window at the snowstorm, her hands clasped together. "Friends, I'm so glad you could join us here this evening. It has been a delightful time together with all of you, and I must say that I hate to send any of you out into this weather. It is beautiful to look at, but also dangerous for nighttime travel. Won't you please consider staying here with us at the mission this evening?" "Stay all night?" Bob Allen questioned. "Yes. This is a big house. And of course we don't have a bed for everyone to sleep in, but we do have plenty of blankets and quilts. I would be devastated if any one of you were to..." Alice paused, "...to suffer a mishap going home in these conditions." As everyone pondered Alice's invitation, Ben Pentland's cry of "Hellllooooooo!" could be heard from the front porch. Alice opened the door, and a forceful gale caused it to swing open even wider. The mail carrier stepped inside, his face barely recognizable from the scarf he wore wrapped about it, allowing only his eyes to peek through. "Mr. Pentland, are you alright? I'm glad you could make it with weather like this." "Me, too, ma'am. I wasn't planning on bein' here, but I got a late start from Raven Gap on my way to El Pano, and with the snow comin' down like it is, I decided it'd be dern foolish of me to keep goin'. I hope none of y'all are plannin' on getting out in this weather," Ben proclaimed to the group. Husbands and wives exchanged glances with each other, pondering as to whether they should stay the night or brave the snowstorm. David spoke up, hoping to sway the group to stay. "Listen, folks, it's beginning to look a bit like a blizzard out there. Now, your horses are warm and comfortable inside the barn, and we'll give them plenty of grain to eat. As for ourselves, I know we still have pies and cakes that haven't been touched, and as Alice said, plenty of blankets and quilts to go around if you don't mind sharing. When morning comes, the snow will have stopped, and we can all welcome Christmas in together. The daylight will make things much less treacherous for traveling, and those of you who have wagons can help take the others home. What do you say?" A few of the men began to nod their heads, and finally Jeb Spencer spoke up, "Alright. 'Hit makes sense. Fairlight, we're staying over." ~~*~~ Christy was again scribbling onto the same piece of paper. She handed it to Neil, who read aloud what she had written to Swannie. " 'Why don't you let Becky and Mountie take my bed tonight?' " Neil spoke. "Oh no, Miss Christy. I jest wouldn't feel right about that," Swannie insisted. Christy snatched the paper away from Neil and wrote back her response. "Christy says, 'Really, I would feel much better if someone besides me were sleeping in my bed tonight, knowing how many others are going to be on the floor.' " "Wal, if you don't mind, then." Christy grinned and looked at Neil, then nodded toward Mountie. Neil understood and picked up the sleeping girl, who woke at the commotion. "It's alright, Mountie," Neil told her. "Everyone's staying over at the mission tonight 'cause of the snow. Miss Christy is going to let you and Becky sleep in her bed." "She is?" came Mountie's groggy voice. "Yes." Neil carried Mountie up the stairs, followed closely by Christy. Once they were inside the bedroom, Christy turned down the bedclothes and helped Mountie pull off her shoes. "Thank you, teacher." Christy mouthed the words, "Good night," and began to tuck Mountie in after she had climbed under the covers. "Doc?" "Yes, Mountie?" "You remember when you first got here and told us that you'd tell us a story later? Did you ever think of one to tell?" "Oh, Mountie, I completely forgot about that. I'm sorry. Let me see..." "Can you wait for Becky?" "Wait fer what?" Becky asked, entering the room. "Doc's gonna tell us a story." "He is?" Becky's voice was full of surprise. "What story are you going to tell us, Doc MacNeill?" She pulled off her own shoes and snuggled under the thick layer of blankets next to her sister. "Well, what kind do you want to hear?" "One about when you were growin' up," Becky suggested, and Mountie nodded her head. "Alright then, let's see," Neil began. "When I was your age, Becky, I used to spend long hours roaming around these mountains, exploring every nook and cranny, every hill and holler." The girls' focus was entirely on Neil, and Christy realized that more than likely, Mountie and Becky had probably never been told a bedtime story by their own father before. Christy wanted to hear Neil's story, too, but at the same time, didn't want to intrude on the moment. She caught Neil's eye as she was leaving. He winked at her, which made some part of Christy melt. She stopped outside on the stairs and realized what she was feeling now for Neil went far beyond the giddiness she associated with blushing. She wanted to stay on the stairs, listening to the low rumble of his voice, until he was again ready to come downstairs. She wanted to throw her arms around him for telling Becky and Mountie the story. For feeling bad he'd forgotten to tell the children a story earlier because he was busy taking care of her. For showing her snowflakes. For enjoying her pitiful excuse for piano playing. For insisting she stop talking tonight. For... "Miss Huddleston?" Alice questioned. "Oh," Christy began, startled and embarrassed for Miss Alice to find her just standing there on the stairs like she was. "Is everything alright?" Christy nodded and began to walk down the stairs. "I just put Sam Houston and Creed and Little Burl to bed in my room. I am hoping to find the room still intact in the morning." Alice stifled a laugh, adding, "David has taken some of the older boys out to his bunk house. None of them may get any sleep tonight, I have a feeling." Christy took Alice's hands in her own when they reached the bottom of the stairwell, mouthing the words, "Merry Christmas" to her. "Well, merry Christmas to you, as well, Christy. Thee is feeling very full of Christmas spirit tonight." Alice was right. Christy couldn't remember ever feeling quite so joyful at Christmastime. And she had Cutter Gap to thank for that. ~~*~~ Since every sheet and blanket was being used for purposes of keeping warm, there was nothing left for partitioning off sleeping quarters. For the most part, the men had taken up residence in the dining room, leaving the parlor for the women. Everyone was huddled beneath their coverings, some drifting off to sleep, others chatting idly into the night. Christy and Ruby Mae were sharing Christy's quilt that had been made from her mother's old dresses. Christy listened as Ruby Mae chattered on about the evening. She was glad Ruby Mae had enjoyed the party so much, yet she was beginning to wonder if she would ever get to sleep with her so near. "The onliest thing I wish I could change about tonight," Ruby Mae whispered, "is that my ma - and my pa, too - were here. It jest seems like the everyday lonesomeness I feel for them is that much stronger at Christmas." Christy heart swelled with emotion for the girl. Christy sat up and took the pencil and paper from her pocket, writing: Ruby Mae, do you know one of the nicest things about families? Some relatives you're born with, but some family members you can choose for yourself. Ruby Mae leaned over Christy's shoulder and read the note, asking, "You mean, like when folks get married?" Well that, but other ways, too. Tears started to well up in Ruby Mae's eyes. "Kinda like how y'all took me in here?" Exactly like that, Ruby Mae. You are part of our family. "Oh, Miss Christy," Ruby Mae exclaimed, hugging Christy to her. "All you children best get some sleep now, lest Saint Nick leave coal for you to find in your stockings when you git back home tomorrow," Fairlight said loudly enough for all the children to hear. "Or in Ruby Mae's case, he might leave a possum," came John Spencer's reply from the dining room. Giggles erupted from both rooms, and Ruby Mae couldn't help but laugh herself. Christy was thinking about how the presents for the children still remained to be opened when she heard Neil's heavy footsteps on the stairs. Quickly she lay down again, covering herself with the quilt. "What's all this laughing down here?" Neil chided the group good-naturedly, reminding Christy of her father when she would have friends stay the night. "We're jest laughin' at the idea of Ruby Mae findin' a possum in her stocking," Zady told him. "Well, it seems to me that would save the trouble of having to hunt one down for yourself. Good night, everyone." "You ain't leavin', are you Doc?" John asked. "No, just looking for a place to curl up. Looks like here's my best choice," Neil said, referring to the area where he was standing. "The quilt on the table is for thee, Neil," Alice called out from the corner where she was nestled. "Thank you," he called back, unfolding the quilt and spreading half of it on the floor, then lying down and covering up with the rest of it. Christy's view of Neil was relatively unobstructed, which unnerved her a bit. She turned her head so he would not know she'd been watching his every move. "Ma, kin we sing jest one more carol afore we all go to sleep?" Lulu Spencer begged her mother. "Oh, Lulu, I s'pose it wouldn't hurt, so long as you're not loud enough to wake those who are already sleepin'." "Will you sing with me? I want to sing 'Silent Night.' " Christy grinned, remembering David's joke from earlier that evening. For her, it certainly had been silent, but that didn't matter. It was part of what made it special. "Silent night...holy night..." Lulu and Fairlight's voices sang softly by themselves at first, but others joined in on the next verse. "...All is calm, all is bright...'Round yon virgin, mother and child...Holy infant, so tender and mild..." Christy wanted to sing with them, and looked in Neil's direction to see if his eyes were closed or if he had turned the other way. He was already looking at Christy, though, one finger held up in front of his mouth. Christy put her finger against her lips and smiled. "Good night," Neil wordlessly mouthed. Christy closed her eyes. "...Sleep in heavenly peace...sleep in heavenly peace..." ~~*~~ The End!