Disclaimer: Catherine Marshall's beautiful story of Christy is owned by 
the  LeSourd Family.  We are in no way seeking profit or credit for her 
story. We are continuing the story of Christy for our own amusement 
only.  Any additions in story line and characters (such as Rose) were 
invented by the writers of the alt.tv.christy Round Robin and the 
Christy Mailing List.

The Narrow Path
Author: Traci

Chapter One


Amid the shuffle of feet, the shouts of greeting to friends, the 
laughter of children, came a low, hushed voice.

"You s’pose  Doc’ll bring his wife wi’ him next time?" an excited, 
female voice asked.

"May th’ Good Lord help ‘im," her friend answered fervently. "My yung 
uns’ plumb thought she were a ghost. One of em’ still do!"

Christy moved a little faster as she made her way down the steps of the 
schoolhouse after Sunday services. She usually enjoyed talking to the 
parents of her students on this one day everyone met. But the last thing 
she wished for was to hear the rest of that conversation. Nor to see 
more of the raised eyebrows or hear the low whispers that would not 
stop. Even on Sunday.

She knew they weren’t talking about her. The Cove people had no notion, 
beyond Fairlight and Dan Scott, what thoughts regarding the doctor 
rested unspoken in her heart. They only knew she had turned down their 
"preacher parson’s" proposal some weeks ago and that he was now courting 
the newcomer, Rose Campbell.

Gossip was like currency in the Cove, Christy thought, as she blindly 
made her way out of the schoolyard, heading for the mission house. 
Everyone wanted to know what everyone else was doing or saying or 
thinking. It didn’t seem to matter that the message often got confused 
amid the telling. Had gossip not done enough harm when Bessie Coburn had 
falsely accused her of having a relationship with John Spencer? 

Glancing over her shoulder, Christy saw Rose standing beside David, a 
happy glow on her youthful face. Christy did not begrudge them their 
happiness. She was more than relieved that David had begun to work 
through his faith issues and that Rose was there for him. He had learned 
a great deal since he had pursued Christy. As a result, he was taking 
his time with Rose and letting God lead them as he chose. In the 
process, he was maturing in a way Christy was proud of.

But she knew that everyone was feeling sorry for her. Wondering if she 
still secretly  "hankered after the preacher.". If only they knew the 
truth!

Then there was the hardest blow to take. Neil had been standing in the 
back with Uncle Bogg, listening intently to the sermon. Margaret 
remained at home, resting from her journey from Boston earlier in the 
week. 

"I have to stand by his decision," Christy told herself for what felt 
like the hundredth time as she changed out of her Sunday dress and into 
more casual garments, unconsciously donning a riding skirt and boots. 
"He’s doing the right thing by staying with Margaret, honoring his 
marriage to her. She needs him now. And that’s where he needs to be."

But her thoughts sounded even hollow to herself. Ever since she had 
found Neil holding Margaret beside the river that day at his cabin, the 
awareness of her love for him had been starkly clear. It had dawned on 
her with the brilliance of a blazing light, shattering all of her 
denials and confusion. And she had hidden it away like a treasure, 
silent amid the shadows of her heart. Neil must never know. If it took 
her last breath, she would keep that secret.

"How could I have been so blind to it all this time?" she asked herself 
yet again. But it was more than foolish to agonize over that point 
again. 

Christy had refused David’s proposal that day in the schoolyard, giving 
him back his ring. He had been hurt, angry, and resentful. But when he 
realized that his own feelings were lacking in some respects, David had 
soon realized how wise Christy’s decision had been. He also knew that he 
would never have the strength or desire to compete with the man who had 
held her heart for weeks, months: Neil MacNeil. He had not told Christy 
that but it was unspoken between them.

David, as wise as he was, had no inkling of what emotions had been at in 
Christy’s heart that day. To stand between the man she did not love but 
who wanted to marry her and the man she loved but was already married to 
another. 
 
Soon after, Neil had taken Margaret to Boston for treatment of her 
tuberculosis, hoping to improve her precarious health. Alice had 
insisted on going as well, something Neil had not wanted. But Alice 
Henderson was a woman difficult to refuse.

It had been in their quiet moments alone, in their shared quarters, that 
Neil had confronted his questions about God. His life. His future. Taken 
out of the mountains and his busy schedule, there had been no where to 
turn but to Alice. And with great patience and love, she had helped him 
face each one. Gradually over the weeks he felt God’s love and 
compassion peeling away the shell that Christy had already cracked 
around his heart. It had nearly overwhelmed him. He could no longer 
refuse the Gift offered to him.

Then and there, he had confessed his sin. Given his life up to the God 
he had once scorned and mocked. And vowed to try to repair his marriage, 
with God’s help.

Margaret had improved during her stay in Boston. The doctors felt 
confident that a return to the fresh air of Cutter Gap would only help 
her more. Neil had told Margaret he wanted her to return to his 
cabin…their cabin. Margaret had been more than willing to do so, also 
anxious to try again, albeit for different reasons. She needed Mac. Her 
husband’s conversion meant little to her. She knew it would not last 
long. She wouldn’t have him turning into her mother, with her 
gospelspeak. Not if she had her way.

Christy realized she couldn’t stay near the mission today. She could not 
take Ruby Mae’s questions or Miss Alice’s concerned looks. She wanted to 
be alone to quiet her heart, to breathe in the mountain air and be at 
peace. With a lift of her chin, she set off down the stairs and out the 
front door.

Reaching the stable, Christy saw Dan Scott heading her way. She pasted 
on a smile she did not feel as she lead Buttons out of her stall.

"How are you, Dan?" she asked, patting Buttons neck unconsciously. "I 
was glad to see you and Cecile this morning. Where is she now?"

"She’s helping Aunt Hattie back to her place, insisted on it," Dan told 
her, his dark brown eyes searching hers. "You know Cecile, never able to 
sit still. Kinda like me, so I can’t complain, can I?"

Nodding, Christy smiled. She had been more than happy when Cecile Carver 
had become Cecile Scott a few weeks ago. The young woman had been a 
Godsend at the school, despite the initial fears from parents unused to 
someone of a different color. But Dan Scott had helped break the barrier 
for them and Cecile was slowly being accepted.

"Miss Christy…" Dan began, then stopped. He held his hat in his hands 
and stood straight. "I know it’s none of my business. You can push me 
away and all. But I just wanted to tell you…I’m praying for you. I know 
it’s been a hard road for you lately."

Christy felt the tears burning behind her eyes at his kind words. Dan 
could be so quiet at times, his thoughts unknown to anyone. It came from 
years of trying to avoid trouble or attention. But he watched. He 
listened. And he cared. No one else could have given her more comfort 
than he had in those few words. Dan Scott knew what it was like to love 
and not be able to express that love. In that, they were kindred souls.

Ever since he had come to the Cove, she and Dan had shared a special 
friendship. She had defied even Neil in making the Cove accept him as 
one of their own. And after much struggle, he finally was. He had not 
forgotten that kindness, that compassion. He never would. How often 
would a young, white woman take a stand for a Negro man , a man she 
barely knew? And now she was making certain Cecile was accepted as well.

"Thank you, Dan," Christy managed to choke out as she saddled Buttons. 
She didn’t even pretend not to know what he meant. It was no good to 
deny it to Dan. "I…I appreciate that. I truly do. You cannot know how 
much I covet your prayers right now."

"You’ll always have ‘em," he told her, briefly touching her shoulder. 
"Cecile and I…we just wanted you to know that."

Later, as Christy dismounted Buttons and let the horse nibble hungrily 
on a nearby patch of grass, she thought of how different everything was 
now.

"I don’t feel like I fit here any longer," she thought sadly. "I feel as 
if life is moving on without me. And I can do nothing to stop it."

As she climbed up onto the outcropping of rock that overlooked the Cove, 
Christy drew in a deep breath and let it out on a shuddering sigh. All 
the hurt, the sadness, the uncertainty was held in its sound, echoing 
the feeling in her heart. Looking out over the landscape she had come to 
call home, she felt like a stranger.

"Dear God, what do I do now?" she asked. "Where do I go? School will be 
out in a few days. I wanted to stay and maybe teach some summer classes 
to the little ones. But I don’t think I can bear it. I can’t watch Neil 
with Margaret. My heart cannot take it.  I’m happy that he’s finally 
found you. That he is walking with you. How long have I prayed for 
that?"

"And David and Rose…they’re so happy. And I want them to be happy. But I 
feel so left out. So…unwanted…like a troublesome child underfoot in the 
kitchen."

The one person she found yet the hardest to avoid was Miss Alice 
herself. She knew her friend was torn between being delighted to have 
her daughter back and standing by her almost "adopted" daughter. Christy 
did not want to make it any harder on Miss Alice. But how could she do 
that?

Christy leaned against the tree behind her, blue eyes blurred with 
tears. She was so weary of holding it all in, of being strong, of doing 
what was best. Exhaustion and emptiness filled her body, her soul. She 
felt as if she were drained of all energy, with nothing to give anyone. 
Only God was holding her up now…by the very thinnest of threads.

She let her thoughts drift from one to another. She remembered the verse 
in the Bible about two paths in life. How most people followed the wide, 
easy road that seemed so pleasant while few chose to take the rough, 
narrow trail that lead to a closer walk with God. She had chosen the 
narrow path. As had Neil. And now they must live with the consequences 
and wait for God to work through them. No matter how difficult it 
seemed.

Then she recalled the letter she had received recently, the one she had 
almost thrown away. It had come from a friend and former teacher of her 
college, inviting Christy to take part in their summer program. A number 
of recent high school graduates were eager to learn from new teachers, 
to hear accounts of their experiences. Mary Glynn wanted her to be a 
part of that group.

"You have so many lessons to share," she had written. "And you’ve seen 
so much. These young people need the kind of no-nonsense information and 
advice only you can give. At the same time, you can talk to some of the 
local church groups about the mission’s work, perhaps meet up with Dr. 
Ferrand."

Now as she reflected on it, Christy thought perhaps it was best to 
accept the invitation. She could go home for the school break as well as 
take part in the program. She could have used such a thing before she 
had tackled the task. And at the same time, she could gain some 
perspective on her situation…and renew her strength. And maybe even 
garner some financial support for the mission. It would be good to see 
Dr. Ferrand again.

Now that was a step forward, she thought with a lift to her spirits. It 
was the first sense of peace she had felt in many days. 

"I’ll write to Mary today and tell her I’m coming."



Part: 2
Summary:  Neil finds out Christy is leaving the Cove for the summer.

The Narrow Path , Chapter 2

Sitting on the schoolhouse steps, Becky heard the sound of hoofbeats and 
looked up from her book eagerly. When she saw it was Dr. MacNeil, she 
closed it carefully and stood up. "Hiya, Doc," she called out happily.

Neil grinned as he approached one of his favorite patients. Becky was a 
walking example of research in action.  Her trachoma-infected eyes had 
improved dramatically since that stormy day Christy had brought her to 
his cabin. Looking down at the girl, proudly wearing her glasses, Neil 
thanked God that he had listened to her and pursued the treatment.

"How do ye do, Becky?" he asked gallantly, dismounting Charlie. "I hope 
ye’re not strainin’ yer eyes by readin’ too much. Didna school let out 
this week?"

Becky nodded, her happiness fading somewhat. "That it did. Right sad 
about that. But Miz Christy told me I could keep readin’ if I liked.  If 
I stay in the light. She gave me some right nice books to read over 
summertime."

Neil felt guilty that he had not had the opportunity to talk with 
Christy since his return to the Cove with Margaret. But he had been so 
caught up in making Margaret comfortable. She had not withstood the 
journey home as well as he might have liked. Her cough had returned. He 
had also been catching up with all the cases he had missed with Dan 
Scott. 

He had missed Christy. More than he cared to admit to himself or anyone 
else. She had been the very person who had broken the barrier he had 
built around himself since Margaret’s departure from the Cove. He wanted 
to talk with her about so many things. About his new found faith… the 
Bible…and Margaret. There was nothing Neil felt he could not tell her or 
discuss with her. She listened with her ears and her heart. When she 
turned those deep blue eyes up to look at him, Neil felt as if he was 
talking to his dearest friend. One who accepted him for his faults and 
wanted what was best for his future. A woman who fought for what she 
believed in and stepped out on faith. 

But the last time he had seen her, truly seen her, was that day of 
David’s proposal at the school. She had stood silent between them, her 
shaking fingers holding the box containing the ring. Neil had clearly 
seen the struggle written on her face, the war of emotions. It was then 
he had come to see that maybe, just maybe, she felt something beyond 
friendship for him. They had never spoken of it. But he knew that if she 
had truly loved David, she would have embraced his proposal 
whole-heartedly. Her refusal still haunted him. Why had she said no?

What did it matter if she had, he asked himself darkly. You are a 
married man. She would never dishonor her beliefs, beliefs I now share, 
in loving a married man. I have to honor my wedding vows, live with the 
actions I made as a younger man. Try to make this marriage with Margaret 
work. Surely Christy must understand that…that I would give anything to 
be with her and not Margaret? But God had other plans…

"Doc?" Becky’s gentle voice broke into his thoughts. "Ye be okay?

Neil nodded, coming back to reality. It was no good to even let his 
thoughts go down that path. Christy was off-limits permanently. She 
would always be his friend. And that would simply have to be enough. 

"I’m just fine, Becky, mebbe too long in the saddle. Are you looking 
forward to the summer?"

Becky glumly shook her head. "No, sir. Ain’t gonna be no fun with no 
schoolin’. With Miz Christy gone to Asheville, won’t be no learnin’ 
a’tall!"

Her simply spoken words hit with the power of a fist. He would not allow 
himself to believe it. "Becky, what do ye mean? Surely Miss Christy is 
going to stay at the Mission over the summer?" Neil blurted out, his 
eyes wide with surprise.

"No, sir, she’s not," Becky told him, tracing her bare toe in the dirt. 
"Told us she’s goin’ to some school or somethin’. To talk to some folks 
about…bein’ a teacher. To see her folks an’ all. And to talk t’ some 
churches about us. Said she’d miss us somethin’ terrible fierce. I know 
I’ll miss her somethin’ awful."

Neil felt a combination of anger and sadness wash over him as he lightly 
brushed Becky’s cheek with his fingers. "Aye, child, we’ll miss her. 
Give my best to your parents for me, aye?"

Remounting Charlie, Neil headed for the Mission with unerring flight. He 
had to know what had brought this sudden decision about. It wasn’t like 
Christy to suddenly leave the Cove for such a long period of time. He 
knew how much she adored the children and had looked forward to having 
some time with the little ones, like Becky and Mountie. What on earth 
had made her decide to go home?

Was the Cove not good enough for her any longer, he thought, his frown 
deepening. No that wasn’t it. She loved Cutter Gap and the children too 
much. Was Ferrand forcing this departure on her as revenge for her way 
of garnering donations? If it was the truth, he would ride all the way 
to Knoxville to give the little man a piece of his mind! Married or no, 
he’d not have Ferrand ordering her about.

"She has nae business leaving the Cove," Neil thought as he neared the 
Mission House. "Those children need her. They look up to her. Alice 
needs her. Dear God in Heaven…I need her!"

Neil pulled back on Charlie’s reins and the horse knickered his 
displeasure. But Neil didn’t care. He realized why he was so angry. Why 
his heart was pounding and his hands were damp with sweat. "She canna 
go…I…I need her, God!"

The realization hit Neil square in the chest, nearly rendering him 
breathless. His thoughts came in pieces, fragments.

Before accepting Christ, Neil had always prided himself on being an 
independent man, never needing anyone’s help or companionship after 
Margaret first vanished.  And so he would have remained if Christy 
Huddleston hadn’t barged into his neatly planned life, her blue eyes 
shooting sparks and her questions echoing in his ears. She had 
challenged, annoyed, and exasperated him at first. But he could never 
deny the fact he was attracted to that spirit, that courage.

They had not been friends at first. They had squared off against each 
other many a time over a number of issues, from the children to feuding 
to God. He had come away from those verbal bouts almost exhilarated, 
feeling something in himself coming alive after lying dormant for so 
long. Gradually they had shared a begrudging respect for each other’s 
talents. From there they had become friends. She would confide in him 
about her feelings of inadequacy as a teacher and he would share his 
dreams with her about doing eye research and finding a cure for 
trachoma. A bond had been forged.

Memories flowed over him as he remained under the canopy of trees, stock 
still. The way she had comforted him by the river that night when he had 
been haunted by memories of Margaret, those gentle fingers brushing back 
his hair. How she had saved Bird’s Eye Taylor from being hung for Tom 
McHone’s shooting. Watching her teach Fairlight Spencer to read. Walking 
beside the lake and placing a circlet of wildflowers on her sun-kissed 
hair. Teaching her how to fish in the river. They poured over him and 
would not let him go.

"Dear God in Heaven," he murmured painfully, his hands clenching into 
fists. "Help me…help me to deal with these feelings. To put them aside. 
Help me to forget…please…help me to live as you would have me to live…to 
find a  love in my heart for Margaret…to repair our marriage. Help me to 
live by the decision I have made."

He had been reading the Bible every spare moment he could. And found 
strength and comfort in the words written there. But at times he felt as 
if he were wrestling with himself. Trying to abide by his decision to 
stay with Margaret despite their estrangement. Having her back in the 
cabin was not easy. Because she needed frequent rest, Neil had 
surrendered his bed to her and had made himself at home in his 
laboratory. Her indifference to his acceptance of Christ rankled. She 
had poked fun at his new habits. 

"Honestly, Mac," she had taunted that morning, noticing his Scripture 
notes on the kitchen table. "One morning I’m going to wake up and find 
you dressed all in black and taking about the Light like Mother."

"Your mother is a wise woman," Neil replied, ignoring her attempt to 
anger him. "Something I am only now beginnin’ ta see. I hope she knows 
she’s welcome here ta see ye any time."

"Don’t worry about that," she replied tartly. "She’s so excited to have 
her baby home safe and sound. We’ll see her soon, never fear."

"Margaret," Neil had quietly told her. "I am tryin’ my best to do things 
right by ye. But I canna do it if ye insist on speakin’ so."

"Alright, alright," she had relented, leaning back in her chair. "I’ll 
play nice and behave. If we’re going to keep our marriage afloat, I 
guess I need to do my share of the paddling, don’t I."

It was so difficult at times, Neil thought. He had loved her so much 
once. She had set his world ablaze with color and energy. But so much 
had changed. He had changed. She had lied and betrayed him. True, he had 
forgiven her for that. Tried to put it behind him. But it could not 
alter the state of his heart. He loved her for the woman she had once 
been to him. And because she was suffering from a terrible illness. But 
not as his wife.

After tying up Charlie by Prince at the fence post, Neil approached the 
steps to see Christy. To ask her why she was leaving. But the sound of 
female voices coming from behind the house caught his attention. 

"Child, what business do ye have in Asheville?" Fairlight Spencer’s 
exasperated voice was heard. "Can’t have you runnin’ out on us now."

Neil was standing behind the corner of the house and realized that 
Christy and Fairlight were doing the washing, standing beside the 
clothesline. Nobody else was about.

"I…I have to go," she simply said, her eyes not meeting her friend’s as 
she hoisted a damp sheet over the line. "This is a good time for me to 
give something back to those who’ve been helping us. The folks who 
trained me. I’ll be talking to the students, telling them what to 
expect. And I’ll get to see my folks, too."

Neil could see that Fairlight wasn’t fooled for a moment. "But fer two 
months? Yer folks’ just here not so long back. Don’t reckon you gotta be 
gone fer such a spell."

"The time will fly by," Christy answered with a brightness that didn’t 
quite ring true. "And Cecile is already proving to be wonderful with the 
children. She can help you along with your reading, too. You like her, 
don’t you?"

"a ‘course I do," Fairlight replied, basket hoisted on her hip. "That 
ain’t what’s troublin’ me. Now put down that sheet and look at me."

Neil watched Christy’s hands freeze above the sheet and rest there. A 
small, almost imperceptible quiver went through her body. Neil felt it 
echo through is own frame.

Fairlight put an arm round her shoulders, wisely assessing the 
situation. "You don’t want to go, do ye? Is that it?"

Neil hated spying like this on the two women. But his feet were frozen 
as he waited for her answer. "I have to," she murmured, so softly Neil 
barely heard it. "I…I can’t stay here now…it’s…it’s too hard."

With the caring instincts of a mother, Fairlight took the young woman in 
her arms as Christy burst into tears, her shoulders shaking with the 
effort. It seemed as if she had been holding them in for a very long 
time. Now they came pouring out like a torrent. The sound of her sobs 
bit like a hound’s bite on his soul.

"Hush now," Fairlight soothed lightly. "A lil waterin’ never hurt a 
body. Been wonderin’ when ye was gonna tell me."

Neil physically ached with the desire to be the one that held Christy, 
to wipe away her tears. To find out why she was so unhappy. He had never 
seen her like this, so helpless and upset. She was always so strong, so 
energetic. Willing to take on the world.

"I…I love those children," Christy stammered, lifting her red, damp face 
from Fairlight’s shoulder. "With my…whole heart…and these 
mountains…they’re my home."

Nodding, Fairlight took a worn handkerchief from her apron pocket, 
gently wiping away the tears. "I know, Christy. That’s why ye’ll be back 
come harvest time. And we’ll rejoice in yer comin’. God’ll make a way, 
child. He’ll work it all out in th’ end."

Leaning against her friend, Christy sighed. The sound seemed to come 
from the depths of her small, slim body and Neil felt something catch 
inside of him. She looked older beyond her years, weary and worn, as if 
she had walked through a personal battlefield of emotions. How he wished 
he could talk to her about it, to know what made those blue eyes look so 
haunted now.

"I know He will, Fairlight," Christy softly said. "This really…is what’s 
best for all of us right now. Would you pray for me…while I’m gone?"

"That’s a promise," Fairlight vowed. "Or I ain’t a Spencer."

Best? How could that be? Her words baffled him. Neil turned away quietly 
then, not wanting to continue to eavesdrop. He had stayed much too long 
as it was. Christy did not need his questions now, that was quite clear. 
Perhaps he could come back tomorrow and they could talk about it before 
she left. Yes, that would be much better, he decided. Then he would have 
the answers. And perhaps convince her to stay. She had to stay.

But what Neil MacNeil did not know was that the train ticket safely 
tucked away in Christy’s coat pocket was dated for the next morning.  
David Grantland had purchased it for her that very day.


Chapter 3

Summary: Christy returns home to Asheville

The Narrow Path

Chapter 3

The glass of the window was cool against Christy’s hot cheek as she 
leaned against it. Her eyelids drooped wearily as the steady rhythm of 
the train’s wheels lulled her into a pleasant half-sleep. She knew the 
little boy seated across the aisle was whispering about her to his 
mother but she frankly didn’t care. It felt too good.

Sleep had been an elusive quarry over the last several days. Whenever 
she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, images would haunt her into 
wakefulness. Little Burl’s freckled face, laughing. Rob Allen bent over 
his tablet, writing about the thundering rush of a mountain river. 
Mountie O’ Teale fingering the buttons on her coat. Even Ruby Mae as she 
brought forth another attempt at culinary excellence. The memories of 
her…of the children had been on her mind since she had informed Miss 
Alice of her departure a few days ago.

"This is so sudden Christy," Miss Alice had said, her eyes full of 
concern for her young friend. "Although I can see the merit in thy visit 
home. Thy parents will be delighted. And I know Dr. Ferrand has plenty 
of places to send you. He had mentioned such a thing to me weeks ago, 
thee knows. I shall write to him directly, of course."

Christy nodded, her eyes on the fine China cup she held in her hand. 
"Yes, I remember. And perhaps I can help inspire some young person to 
take on teaching in a place like Cutter Gap. So we can start more 
missions."

Miss Alice, sitting in her elegant wingback chair, had been quiet for a 
few moments. Christy did not attempt to fill up the silence with 
needless prattle. She knew Miss Alice well enough to appreciate her 
"Quaker silences" and to respect them. How many times could she have 
benefited from staying silent instead of rushing ahead?

"Thee has endured a great deal this year," Miss Alice remarked quietly, 
her eyes intent on Christy. "Teaching nearly seventy children in a 
one-room schoolhouse. Tackling moonshiners and poverty. Watching thy 
father suffer a stroke. And ending a romance. Thee have grown up a great 
deal, Christy. And I am proud of thee."

Standing, Christy crossed to the table where Miss Alice’s tea service 
was set and put down the cup slowly. "Thank you for that. Yes, I suppose 
I have. And now…it’s time for me to share some of that knowledge with 
the world. To give back what I’ve been given."

Despite her confident words, Christy felt nervous. She did not want Miss 
Alice to ask her about Neil or Margaret. To probe into her motivations. 
She had no desire to break down and cry in front of Miss Alice right 
now. She had no wish for her to know that she was in love with her 
son-in-law. It was too much to endure Miss Alice’s pity.

"Thee will do splendidly well," Miss Alice finally said, not giving 
voice to her thoughts. Christy had always been so open with her about 
her feelings. Why was she keeping them silent now?

A wall had slowly gone up since she, Margaret, and Neil had gone to 
Boston. It was a subtle change that had taken place over the weeks and 
Miss Alice had puzzled over it. She knew that Christy was likely still 
feeling some shame over breaking her engagement with David. Perhaps she 
was still recovering from it. Or perhaps she wished to give her time 
alone with Margaret and did not wish to intrude. 

But the dark blue eyes would not meet hers now. They held secrets that 
she suspected were too painful to give voice to at this time. Yes, 
Christy needed to go home. To be with her family and friends. To renew 
her strength for the next year of teaching she was to face. Yes, going 
away was the best thing for her now.

Christy had left early that morning, with only David as her companion. 
She had already said her goodbyes to the children on the last day of 
school. To do so again would have been too difficult. David seemed to 
sense her need for little fanfare and had said little on the way to the 
station. It was a comfort to know he was still her friend and did not 
question her motives for leaving.

"Come back when you can, Christy," he had told her after giving her a 
hug. "We need you too much to let you stay away for long."

Looking out at the passing scenery, Christy remembered how relieved she 
had been to not blurt it out to Miss Alice. To tell her that she could 
not stay in Cutter Gap because her daughter was back in Neil’s cabin and 
resuming her role as his wife. Weeping in front of Fairlight had been 
bad enough. But it had been a welcome release to the agony she had felt. 
She was going to miss Fairlight…the student and the friend. 

As the train carried her further and further away from Cutter Gap, 
Christy let her thoughts flow freely. Last night she had prayed for her 
students, the mission, the mountain people, for David and Rose, Miss 
Alice…and yes, even Neil and Margaret. 

The truth was she wanted to rail at God and ask him why this was 
happening. Why was she having to go through this? Why had she fallen in 
love with this man? Only to have him finally give his life to Christ and 
return to his wife? 

That prayer had come hardest. It had been difficult to ask God to bless 
their marriage, to heal it if that was His will.  To ask for something 
that inwardly she did not want. But each time she had struggled she had 
turned to the Bible and found comfort, solace there. And strength to go 
on. 

"Doing the right thing and living with the consequences do to not always 
bring happiness," her father had told her growing up. "But ultimately 
God rewards our sacrifices with gifts that we never imagined."

It wasn’t going to be easy to return to Asheville and not miss her 
students, to long for the mountains, the people. But like Fairlight had 
said, God would make a way. And she would adjust to the changes.

Her parents and her brother George met her at the station, their smiles 
bright and eager. To feel her father take her into his arms again was a 
precious gift. Her family loved her and she would have that to hold onto 
in the weeks to come. That was a solace she clung to like a rope in a 
storm.

As they rode home in her father’s Model T, her mother fussed over her, 
her motions like that of a flittering bird. "I’m still in shock, 
darling, you’ll have to forgive me. I’ve been in a dither since you 
phoned to give us the good news."

George, who was at the wheel, winked at his sister. "You should have 
seen her, sis. She was like a small tornado moving through the house, 
getting your old room all ready. I thought she was going to blow the 
house down!"

Her father, who was sitting in the front next to George, grinned in 
agreement. "And then she was on the phone calling all your friends and 
then her friends. You would have thought that the president was coming 
to Asheville! You can tell by the red carpet she’s rolled out on the 
porch steps."

Julia, who blushed gracefully, put her arm about her daughter’s 
shoulders. "Well, to me it’s even better than that! We haven’t had her 
home in months. A mother is entitled to miss her daughter, is she not?"

"And wait until you see who’s coming to dinner," George remarked, 
turning onto the street where they lived. "You’ll never guess who turned 
up after all this time. But I’ve been sworn to secrecy not to tell."

Christy inwardly winced. She hoped her mother hadn’t chosen to call some 
of her old beaus to invite them over. That was the last thing she wanted 
right now. She had grown, changed so much since she had left Asheville 
last fall. They had totally different interests and ambitions now. She 
had no wish to rehash details of the latest hunt or the summer dances. 
She only wanted to enjoy her reunion with her family.

"I see that look, little miss," William patiently teased. "And I think I 
can interpret it pretty well. Don’t worry. I think this surprise will be 
a very welcome one."

Once home, Christy forgot about the mystery guest. She was too immersed 
in unpacking her things and soaking in the smells and sounds of her 
family home. It was comforting to be among familiar things again, to 
hear the sound of her mother humming as she walked down the hall, to 
smell the roses in the garden. They were like comforting friends 
welcoming her after a long journey.

Christy looked at herself in the large oval mirror that hung over her 
dressing table, trying to recognize the girl she saw there. She was 
wearing a beautiful sky blue gown that hadn’ seen daylight in months. 
There were very faint circles under her eyes. And she looked pale as a 
sheet. But she had ended a long journey today. As Miss Alice had 
unwittingly said, she had grown up.

A quick knock on the door broke her reverie and George’s curly blond 
head appeared. "Come on, sis, dinner’s on the table and our mystery 
guest has arrived! Gee, I’ll even escort you down myself. Mighty gallant 
of me, I’d say. Don’t expect it again."

Happy to see him, Christy rose from the dressing table and quirked a 
smile. "Why I would be honored, Mr. Huddleston! Even if I AM your 
sister…"

George yanked her sleeve with annoyance but his beaming smile spoke 
otherwise. He was happy to have his big sister home after all these 
months. They had plenty of lost time to make up for.

Descending the stairs with George, Christy heard the rumble of male 
voices in the parlor, her father’s and one she faintly remembered from 
somewhere. It certainly wasn’t one of her beaus from college. No, this 
voice was from another time.

A handsome face met her eyes as she and George stepped into the parlor. 
It had aged a little since she had last seen it but the sterling gray 
eyes that met hers were just as kind and just as warm. Yes, there were a 
few gray strands woven into the dark locks now. But it was no mistaking 
who it was. 

"Alex Remington," Christy murmured. "As I live and breathe!"

"So you haven’t forgotten your old friend after all," Alex replied, 
grinning like a schoolboy. "I told your father I wasn’t sure if you’d 
even know me now. I’m as old as molasses now."

Christy stepped forward and he took her hand, holding it in both of his. 
"You were barely 16 when I left Asheville for Chicago but time hasn’t 
changed the sparkle in those pretty iris eyes of yours."

Christy chuckled, remembering how Alex had helped her plant irises in 
the garden that last time he had been there. An old friend of her 
father’s, Alex had been a part of the Huddleston family since she could 
remember. He had married her cousin Rebecca when she was ten and they 
had often come to visit from Chicago. Unfortunately, Rebecca had died of 
scarlet fever two years ago. Alex had been desolate. And had found 
comfort in spending time with Christy and George.

"I can’t believe you’re here!" she finally said, as he took her arm to 
lead her into dinner. "Are you here on business? Or visiting the rest of 
the family?"

"The native has returned," he told her. "I was weary of Chicago…the 
crowds and the dust and the noise. I wanted to come home to my mountains 
and breathe in the fresh air. And to be with my family again. Especially 
the Huddlestons."

Christy heard the longing in his voice and felt an echoing ache in her 
own heart. Alex was looking for a refuge as she was. She took some 
comfort in knowing that she was not the only one struggling with her 
feelings. Alex had loved Rebecca with all of his heart and Christy 
doubted he would ever stop. Perhaps, he, too, was hoping to renew his 
strength and grow closer to God.

He seated her at the table as Julia remarked, "Alex and your father have 
been like two rascal boys on vacation, Christy. They went fishing just 
last week and caught a load of fish. Matty and I had a dreadful time 
cleaning them all. And George was no help."

"Now Julia," William chided gently. "You know we cleaned most of them. 
And I happen to remember you polished off all that trout on your plate. 
With no help from us."

They all laughed together, Julia as much as the others. Christy smiled, 
drinking in the sound of it. Laughter. It felt so good to hear it again. 
Then William turned to Alex and asked, "Would you mind blessing the 
meal, Alex?"

"It would be my honor."

They joined hands around the table and lowered their heads. How strange, 
Christy thought, that a ritual such as praying for a meal transcended 
geography and social circle. Every night they joined hands at the 
mission to thank God for providing for them another day. 

"Dear Father, we thank you for the food you have graciously given us 
this day to enjoy. And for giving us the strength and love to get 
through another day. We thank you for the blessings you have brought 
into our lives. We thank you for allowing Christy safe passage home. We 
thank you for bring her home to us so that we may enjoy her special 
company and renew our fellowship. And we ask that you watch over the 
children and the families and friends she has left behind in Cutter Gap. 
May they continue to grow strong and learn in her absence. It is in your 
Son’s name that we ask it. Amen."

Looking up, Christy felt Alex’s hand tighten on hers slightly. She felt 
a lump rising in her throat and swallowed it quickly. How had he known, 
she wondered.  How had he realized that she had been praying for that?

"Welcome home, Christy," Alex murmured quietly, his gray eyes warm and 
comforting.


Summary: Neil discovers that Christy has left the Cove

Chapter 4

"You handled that very well, Dan," Neil spoke sincerely as he washed his 
hands in the basin. "I take ma’ hat off to you for that."

Dan Scott grinned wearily as he held out the towel to Neil. "Well, it’s 
not every day I get to assist in a situation like that. I don’t know 
many mountain grandmothers who break their arms playing baseball."

They both laughed out loud as Dan began to wash his own hands. Thanks to 
Rev. Grantland, the children were now wild for baseball and to 
everyone’s amazement, so was Granny Allen. She had been so intent on 
sliding into third that she had broken her arm. Creed had run to find 
Neil, who had been giving Dan one of his medical lessons.

"I feel like a plumb fool," Granny had muttered but a tiny grin told 
them she wasn’t too worried. "An me jus’ passin’ my 81st birth year 
like."

"I think it likely that they’ll send a scout up here to watch you play, 
Granny," Dan had remarked, setting the arm in the plaster preparation. 
"And now you can ask all your friends to sign your cast when it dries 
up."

Creed Allen’s mischievous face had lit up like a Christmas tree full of 
candles. "Ya don’t say! Granny, yer gonna be famous! Folks’ll come fer 
miles to write on ye."

"Ya mean they kin sign thur names?" Granny has asked, her eyes wide with 
amazement. "Well if that don’t beat all! Ye done made me famous, Mr. 
Scott. I’m obleeged to ya fer it. Jest wait til’ they see this! Quiltin 
ladies’ll be pea green wi’ envy."

Granny had been one of the first people in the Cove to allow Dan to 
treat her grandchildren. Bob Allen had not been happy about it. But 
Granny’s word was law. And when Bob had seen that the young man knew 
what he was doing, Bob’s prejudices had begun to thaw somewhat. He 
didn’t waste many words on Dan but he didn’t bar his entrance from the 
house.

Granny had been amazingly philosophical about it. "I reckon if’n Mr. 
Lincoln set’em free…claimed we all be equal…then I’ll abide by it. He 
seems right nice enuff."

"Granny has a spunk beyond her years," Neil said as they descended the 
steps of the Allen cabin. They mounted their horses to head back toward 
the Mission House. "She was always thinkin’ beyond her time. That’s in 
stark contrast to her son, who had been known to hold a grudge for 
life."

"I’d like to know where she gets all of her energy from," Dan commented 
as they rode. "I certainly could use it. I’m buildin’ me a new barn for 
my horse and for when Cecile gets her one. I’m savin’ up for one come 
autumn."

"Your wife is a good rider," Neil told him, running his hand through his 
curly red hair. "I saw her riding Christy’s horse Buttons this morning. 
You know, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind at the mission if you boarded her 
horse there if you needed to."

"That’s the beauty of it, truly," Dan replied, pushing his hat further 
back on his head. "Miss Christy’s allowing Cecile to ride Buttons while 
she’s gone. So we won’t need to buy a horse until she returns from 
Asheville. Mighty nice of her to oblige us that way. Never met a woman 
kinder than Miss Christy. Sure am gonna miss her."

Neil nodded, his own thoughts spinning. He thought of how different his 
feelings had been about Dan Scott months ago when he had first come to 
the Cove. Neil was ashamed to admit that he had been much like his 
mountain neighbors. He had not wanted the young Negro man coming in and 
doctoring his people. They trusted him and it would do no good to add 
trouble by bringing in Dan Scott.

He also remembered her comic attempts to cook him dinner. That had been 
a night to remember. He had cranked up his Victrola and they had waltzed 
beside the river. The memory of it stole over him like a sweet dream. 
She had been as light as a feather in his arms, her heart-shaped face 
tilted so that he could look down into her eyes. She was such a wee one, 
and yet her passions were strong. She had fought for Dan Scott like a 
little bear cub, all spit and fire. 

"Aye, Christy has a way about her unlike most women her age," Neil 
finally said as they began to approach the Mission House. "She took this 
place by storm when she arrived last fall. I…the place hasn’t been the 
same since."

Dan didn’t doubt that.  He had watched the developing relationship 
between Miss Huddleston and Dr. MacNeil.  It had been apparent to him 
from the first time he had seen them together. There was a crackle, a 
spark of something in the air when they were in the same room. Just the 
looks they unknowingly sent each other were enough to draw his interest. 
They were both strong-willed people, convinced they were right. But both 
were also willing to learn and to change at the same time. And he could 
tell from the tone of the doctor’s voice that he was already missing the 
young school teacher.

Dan didn’t know much about Neil’s wife, Margaret. When he came by the 
doctor’s cabin for his lessons, she barely said hello to him. She was 
like one of those fine pictures he had seen in a magazine his cousin 
Leroy had snuck into the settlement. But to him it seemed a false beauty 
that only covered the surface. There was no light behind her eyes, no 
kindness in her expression. He only hoped that God would work out the 
problems between the MacNeils. And ease the pain in Christy’s heart.

Neil and Dan parted company at the Mission House as Dan’s house was just 
over the rise. Neil tethered Charlie to the post and was walking up the 
steps when David came out.

"Well, Dr. MacNeil," David greeted, his brown eyes snapping. "It’s good 
to see you. And I have to tell you it was a pleasure to see you again 
this past Sunday. Meant a lot to me."

"Thank you, Reverend," Neil remarked, shaking the young man’s hand. It 
was difficult to believe that the long-standing hostility between them 
was now gone. Since his conversion, David had been friendly and had 
spent a recent evening in Bible study with him. Neil had to admit he had 
not given the young man enough credit. "You did an admirable job on your 
sermon, I must say. I’d like to talk about it wi’ you soon. But I’ve 
come to see Christy. Is she about?"

Leaning against the doorframe, David drew in a breath. He had been 
waiting for this moment and had dreaded it. Christy had been through 
enough. She had faced her feelings for Neil and had finally admitted 
them to herself. Turning down his proposal had been a difficult but 
courageous thing for her to do, David could now admit. It had hurt but 
now he could see the wisdom of it. To face Neil before her departure 
would have stretched her past her limits. As a result, David had 
purchased her train ticket soon after she had told him about her 
decision.

Now that Rose was in his life, David had no doubt that he wanted to one 
day marry her. She felt the same way about him. And together they were 
seeking God’s will in their relationship. 

"No, Doctor, I’m afraid she’s not here," David began.

"Well, then, do ye mind if I wait for her?" Neil asked, noticing how 
pinched and nervous the preacher seemed. "Is she alright?"

David prayed to God that he would speak the next words in the kindest 
way possible. Because he knew Neil wasn’t going to like what he had to 
say. "Christy left for Asheville yesterday morning. She’s gone."

"You must be joking, man, she canna have left that quick," Neil 
returned, inwardly reeling at the words. "She had to say goodbye to the 
children…to her friends…"

His words trailed off into the silence. She had left and not said 
goodbye to him. That rankled. No matter what had happened, Neil had 
always hoped that he and Christy would remain friends. To know she has 
quietly slipped away without a word to him hurt. Why was she being so 
secretive?

"She wanted no farewells, no tears," David quietly told him. "She never 
was one for goodbyes. Hates them. So don’t think you were the only one. 
Ruby Mae’s been in a sulk ever since."

Neil looked at David, his anger welling up briefly then dying. David was 
courting Rose Campbell, Ross’ daughter. He could not imagine that the 
preacher was still jealous of his interest in Christy. Not now. He was 
her friend and wanted the best for her.

"This makes no sense, " Neil ground out, sitting down hard on a nearby 
chair. "Why would she want to go home sae soon? She loves the 
children…and they love her. You couldna ha’ dragged her away a few 
months ago. Now she leaves in a matter of days? What do you make of it?"

David watched the doctor carefully. Was the man so blind? Did he have no 
idea how much Christy had gone through while he was off in Boston 
helping Margaret? Did he not know she loved him? The realization that 
Neil didn’t know stunned him. The man was usually so acute. And his 
interest in Christy had been quite apparent. Wasn’t her hesitation that 
day in the schoolyard enough to convince him?

David had thought Christy must have had some kind of discussion with 
Neil before or after he had come back. But come to think of it, Neil had 
been nowhere near the Mission House until today. 

"She was invited to come and speak to some students about her first year 
of teaching here," David explained, his expression unreadable. "And it’s 
understandable that she would like to visit her father, her family for 
that matter. Surely that doesn’t surprise you."

"Nay, not that," Neil admitted. That made sense. But her swift departure 
did not. "Tis’ so soon. I’d not had a chance to talk wi’ her…about my 
new found faith. She wrote me a letter when she found out…wishin’ me 
happiness in my new life. But we..we haven’t talked. That’s why I came 
today."

Inwardly, David’s emotions were flying. What a tangled mess it had all 
become. Christy was trying to do that right thing by staying out of 
Alice’s way and letting Neil repair his marriage to Margaret. Neil was 
trying to do God’s will by standing by his ill wife. He only hoped God 
would unwind the mess that had taken place and heal their hearts before 
they both broke.

"Doctor, I’m not unaware of what an act of selflessness you performed," 
David told him, his voice low and sincere. "I know that bringing 
Margaret here was not an easy thing to do after what she did to you. I 
know we’ve had our differences in the past. But I wanted you to know…I 
admire your courage."

Neil was momentarily silent. This was not what he had expected to hear 
from David. But he appreciated it just the same. "Aye, I think you know 
‘twas not my deepest wish to do so. My marriage to Margaret…it died the 
day she disappeared. Resurrecting it…well, I have to do it. To honor my 
vows…even if it hurts. Even if it means forgetting…"

David heard the raw pain in the doctor’s voice. They were both 
struggling, he thought. Trying to do what was best for everyone.  He 
also knew that Margaret MacNeil had little appreciation for what Neil 
had done for her or for her mother. He only hoped that Margaret didn’t 
destroy the tiny seed of faith that had been planted in Neil’s heart.

"Christy did leave you a letter," David told him, hoping to ease the 
tension. "She gave it to me to give to you. I was intending on bringing 
it up to you tonight."

David reached into his coat pocket and handed a long, flat envelope to 
him. Neil’s hands took it and held it fast. As if clutching what little 
link he had left to her. 

"Thank you," Neil simply said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I’ll go now. 
But I appreciate your words, Reverend. I truly do. And I think it’s time 
you called me Neil. We are…brothers in Christ now, are we not?"

David smiled faintly and shook his hand, not missing the irony of the 
moment. Had he no once arm wrestled this man for three hours? "Only if 
you call me David. And it’s a pleasure to know we’re brothers."

Then Neil was mounting Charlie and heading out. He wanted to be near the 
river when he read it, his private place where he fished. Where he had 
taught Christy how to fish. Margaret seldom ventured there and he didn’t 
want to be interrupted. Not today.

She was truly gone. He wouldn’t have the chance to talk her out of it. 
To find out why she had been crying brokenly on Fairlight’s shoulder.  
He had not allowed himself to accept the fact that she was going. He had 
not wanted to imagine Cutter Gap without her. Moreover, the thought of 
her not in his life was too painful to imagine.

Sitting down on a wide, flat rock, Neil opened the envelope and drew out 
the letter. It was tucked into two larger, thicker pieces of paper.

"Dear Neil:

I regret not being able to see you before leaving the Cove. I know you 
are busy getting adjusted to being home from Boston and settling 
Margaret into the Cabin. But this will have to do.

You and Margaret have been in my prayers and will continue to be so 
while I am gone. Your friendship means a great deal to me and I wanted 
you to know that. I was such a mouthy, know –it-all when I first arrived 
in Cutter Gap. You helped me to see that I could bend and grow without 
breaking or giving up. Thank you for being my friend.

I’ve enclosed a little something I hope you will enjoy. Just remember 
that my attempts at drawing are just that.

May God love and protect you in the days to come. And may you draw 
strength from Him daily.

Christy

Neil stared at the note for some time. It was so brief. So unlike her 
usual self. He felt there was more being unsaid in that letter than 
anything else. So many mysteries unsolved. 

He unfolded the papers carefully and saw that they were drawings. He 
knew she enjoyed sketching but had never seen her work. She was always 
hiding it away before he could see it. He had often teased her about it.

The first one was of him in his laboratory treating Becky O’Teale’s 
eyes. The little girl was perched on the edge of the table, looking up 
at him. His hands were skillfully working over her eyes, his expression 
full of concentration and concern. It was lovingly done, with a skillful 
hand. He marveled at her ability to capture him so honestly, his rumpled 
clothes and curly hair. And yet she had also shown the neatness of the 
laboratory. And the trust of a little girl.

His fingers unfolded the next one and he drew in a breath of wonder. It 
was a beautiful, thoughtful sketch of him sitting on the porch of his 
cabin, reading his mother’s Bible. How had she known that he had been 
doing just that every evening since his return? She had included the 
river in the background and the moon shining overhead. A puff of smoke 
from his pipe also hovered over him, his eyes bent on the words. She’d 
even included his fishing poles leaning up against the doorframe.

"Dear God," Neil prayed, closing his eyes. "She knows me better than 
anyone. She sees straight into my soul, knows what I’m thinking and 
feeling. How can we be separated like this? How can it be your will? Why 
did you bring her into my life? It makes no sense at all."

His rough fingers lightly stroked the drawings, treasuring them. He 
imagined her drawing them, her lower lip caught by her teeth in 
concentration as her pencil and charcoal flew over the paper. Her light 
touch combining lines, colors into images and feelings. How had he not 
known about this? Why had she kept this talent hidden? 

"That’s a lovely drawing, Mac," Margaret’s voice intruded on his 
thoughts starkly.

Startled, Neil looked up to find his wife standing near him, her eyes 
full of questions. "Margaret," he breathed. "You…are you sure you should 
be up and about?"

"The fresh air feels good on my face," she told him, with a surprising 
lack of rancor. "And I figured you would be here. Who drew these?"

Neil knew he could not lie to her. It was useless to do so. "Christy 
drew them for me," he spoke softly, his fingers skimming over them. 
"She’s left the Gap for the summer."

Margaret saw the look in those hazel eyes, the longing he could not 
hide. Part of her hated Christy Huddleston for it, for unwittingly 
making her husband love her. But another part of her admired the young 
schoolteacher for her spirit, for her honesty, for her love of the 
children. And the fact that she could see the good in her husband that 
she often forgot about.

She could remember a time when Mac had looked at her in a similar way. 
But there was something different about him now. A tenderness. A peace 
he had never had before. Where did it come from? Had Christy caused it? 
How could he gain so much pleasure from reading a book written hundreds 
of years ago? And yet it seemed to make him happy, to lighten his load.

The sight of Mac leaning over the Bible, talking with the young Reverend 
had been an unlikely sight. Margaret had nearly choked for laughing 
about it later. The two men could not be more different. And yet now 
they were friends. 

"Mother told me she was taking a leave of absence," Margaret said, 
noticing how taken Neil was with the drawings. "That she was going to be 
gone for a time. I can’t lie, Mac. I was glad to hear that. Because I 
know you care for her."

Neil carefully folded up the drawings, as if hiding a part of himself 
away from her. He didn’t want to discuss Christy with Margaret but she 
had brought it up. And he wasn’t going to lie to her.

"Margaret, I have t’ be equally frank wi’ you. Christy is my friend. We 
confided in each other a great deal. She…she helped me to see that the 
work I was doing here was for good. That God wanted me here. I canna…and 
will na forget her for that."

He paused, noting that she was not snapping back at him, as was her 
wont. "But I’m here wi’ you. I’m tryin’ my best to do what’s right."

Margaret drew close to him and took his hand, her long, elegant fingers 
twining with his. She looked up into his handsome face, her dark eyes 
seeking his. "And I’m glad of it, Neil. Because I want to be your wife 
again. I’ve wanted that for a long time."

She would have said more but a sudden wave of dizziness prevented her 
from doing so. She wavered, holding onto his hand. Neil knew Margaret’s 
ways and he knew feigning illness was not one of them. "Are ye alright?" 
he asked gently, concerned. "Ye’ve come too far from the house. Let’s go 
back now."

Nodding, Margaret leaned against him as he folded the letter and 
drawings up, placing them in his pocket. She was too surprised and 
frightened to be angry. It was difficult to breathe and she felt a spasm 
in her side.

Neil helped her into the cabin and settled her into bed. "Are you 
feelin’ better?" he asked. "Let me get you something to drink. And I 
want to listen to your lungs."

She nodded, feeling better now. Why was she so tired?  And so thirsty. 
The treatments had helped so much in Boston. She hadn’t felt this way in 
weeks, so strange and weak. It was a different kind of weakness, one 
that sank into her bones.

"I’m having Alice come to check on you tomorrow while I’m away," Neil 
told her, tucking the covers in around her. "Matty O’Quinn is ready to 
deliver her first baby so I’ll be gone a bit. Alice’ll make sure ye are 
well."

Some things never changed, Margaret thought. Mother to the rescue. "You 
needn’t bother. I can take care of myself just fine."

Neil shook his head, not allowing her to bait him. "She’s coming. And 
after what just happened I’m glad I arranged it…now lie back while I got 
get my bag."

Margaret leaned back against the thick pillows, her thoughts on her 
husband. His heart belonged to Christy Huddleston. That much was clear 
to her now. She had hoped that because of the time they had spent 
together in Boston that she might stand a chance. He had brought her 
home to his cabin, their  cabin. But it no longer was their cabin.

She knew she could try to change her husband’s mind but it was too late. 
His heart belonged to another, not matter how hard he was trying to 
prove otherwise.  To himself or to anyone else.

"Poor Mac," she thought tiredly. "Always trying to do right. I am a 
trial to him. But I need him now. He’s all I have."

She marveled at his new attitude, his love for God, his compassion 
toward her. She had poked fun at his Bible reading, his church 
attendance. But he hadn’t lashed out. Instead he had patiently listened 
and gone on. It hadn’t stopped him from asking how she felt, making 
certain she was comfortable. Even talking about his day with her. How 
could he do it, knowing the woman he loved was leaving? She only knew 
that there was a calm about him that had no cause, no reason.

Perhaps the big, worn book held some answers to it after all, she 
thought.

Summary: Christy speaks to some promising students and spends time with 
Alex Remington.

The Narrow Path

Chapter 5

Mary Glynn gently nudged Alex Remington and smiled. "She’s got them in 
the palm of her hand," she murmured under her breath. "I knew she 
would."

Nodding, Alex’s eyes were full of admiration and amusement. "She does at 
that."

Sitting on the edge of the stage, Christy was completely at ease talking 
to the students clustered around her as they eagerly drank in what she 
said. They weren’t much younger than she was, Alex thought. But with her 
sun-streaked hair becomingly caught up in silver combs and her summer 
frock of pink linen, Christy indeed looked like the professional she 
was. How grown up she had become. It hardly seemed possible.

"You can’t mean you have to teach with hogs under the floorboards of 
your classroom," a tall, elegant looking young woman said in disbelief. 
"That’s impossible!"

"Cutter Gap is an unusual place and not everyone is cut out to teach at 
a mission like it," Christy admitted, her eyes dancing. "And getting 
used to those circumstances took time. Believe me, I didn’t always keep 
a cool head. I had to ask God for patience over and over. I still do."

A be-spectacled young man asked, "Did you find it difficult…to give up 
all the comforts of Asheville for a backwoods mission? Weren’t you 
homesick?"

Christy nodded. "Of course! I had no idea what I was getting into. I 
actually thought of it as a romantic notion at the time…leaving my city 
home to help the poor and ignorant. I had little idea…that they would 
teach me so much more than I taught them."

There was a small catch in her voice and Alex saw the brief, faraway 
look that came over her. He had seen that look a number of times over 
the last few weeks. He had gotten into the habit of coming to dine with 
the Huddlestons and he and Christy often went for a stroll afterward or 
simply sat in the garden together. George tagged along at times but more 
often he left them alone, preferring to go out with his own friends.

There was a pain there; a lingering wound that Alex could not miss. No, 
she had not said a word of it to him. Only that she missed the children 
at times. But there was more to it than that. He only hoped she would 
confide in him soon. 

"Miss Huddleston, weren’t you ever afraid?" a timid girl inquired, her 
voice barely above a whisper. "I mean…they must be so uncivilized…so 
wild!"

Christy bit back her laughter and answered, "I’d be the first to admit 
my knees were knocking that first day. No one had ever told me I would 
end up defending a man against being hung for shooting another man. 
That’s not exactly proper tea party conversation, is it?"

Inwardly chuckling, Alex watched as most of the girls and a few of the 
boys blanched visibly. Christy went on calmly, "That’s not the everyday 
routine in Cutter Gap. But it is true that things are different there. 
People have to work hard for the bare necessities, to survive. It isn’t 
a matter of a job where I go in, teach, and leave. These children and 
their parents are my neighbors. We attend church together. Celebrate 
together. I care about them. And they care about me."

"But children are the same everywhere. They want to learn, given the 
right setting. You might think that these children are ignorant, unaware 
of the outside world. But they know more about life than many city 
children do. They can chop wood, churn butter, spin thread, and help run 
a farm."

"One last question," Polly Samuels quickly said, her blond hair like a 
halo. "This may seem rather silly…and perhaps too personal. But…there 
can’t be any eligible men in those mountains. Aren’t you afraid you’ll 
end up an old maid?"

Christy’s mind filled with memories. No, she hadn’t feared that in 
Cutter Gap. She had received her proposal. And come to love a man she 
could never marry. Every morning she awoke with that knowledge and had 
to live with it. Despite all the attention from her parents and George’s 
clowning, she had no forgotten. No, never.

Paul Simmons, a lively redheaded young man, remarked boldly, "I don’t 
think Miss Huddleston will ever have to worry about that, Polly."

Christy grinned as the students laughed. "That’s a legitimate question, 
Polly. And I’ll answer it for you. I didn’t go to Cutter Gap to find a 
husband, that much is true. Nor would I advise any young woman to think 
in such a way. But God can work in amazing ways. One never knows what is 
in His plan."

Listening, Polly shook her head slowly. "I just don’t think I could do 
that."

Later, as they strolled down the street toward Alex’s house, Christy 
asked him as she lifted her parasol, "So…did I handle myself well? I 
can’t help wondering if they believed me. Polly’s eyes were as round as 
saucers."

Alex, who had drawn her hand over his arm, assured her she had been 
outstanding. "They ate up every word. I think you may have won a few of 
them over to your cause. Dr. Ferrand may be stampeded by eager 
teachers."

Laughing, Christy held onto Alex’s arm as they crossed a busy 
intersection. He was a tall man and his arm was strong beneath her hand. 
Yet he remembered to shorten his strides to accommodate her shorter 
ones.  Alex was a thoughtful man and it was a trait Christy appreciated.

"I don’t know about that," she admitted, glad for his approbation. "But 
I think they got the message that teaching isn’t as traditional and 
boring as they might think. It’s never dull in Cutter Gap, that’s for 
certain."

Once inside Alex’s home, the housekeeper came to take Christy’s parasol 
and Alex’s light coat. "It’s a pleasure to have you with us again, Miss 
Christy," Mrs. Shea greeted. "Master Alex has a spring in his step today 
and I don’t think it’s from the chewing gum he stepped in either!"

Alex laughed heartily, handing her his hat. "Mrs. Shea is forever 
telling on me, Christy. But she’ s right. You’ve brightened things up 
considerably since your return."

Mrs. Shea went to prepare a light tea for them while Christy and Alex 
retired to the drawing room. She liked Alex’s style of decorating, 
simple yet tasteful. No ostentatious furnishings here. Just like Alex. 
She wandered over to the small grand piano and lightly fingered the keys 
with pleasure. One common interest between her and Alex had always been 
music.

"You know I’m going to make you play for me," she said over her 
shoulder, a mischievous grin on her heart-shaped face. "I won’t let you 
off the hook either."

Alex delighted in her playfulness. It had been so long since he had 
talked to a young woman of Christy’s intelligence and humor.

"I suppose I can be cajoled into playing a little tune," he acquiesced, 
moving over the fine Turkey carpet to join her. "I seem to remember you 
played very well when you were younger. Perhaps we can attempt a duet 
sometime."

He sat down at the bench while she stood beside him, looking at the 
music. He had been playing a Chopin nocturne the night before and he 
began playing it for her.

She moved about the room restlessly, her delicate fingers touching the 
curtains, a book, a figurine. "I’m so glad Mary asked you to come, 
Alex," she told him. "It was wonderful to have you pulling for me."

"It was my pleasure to be in the company of so many eager, intelligent 
young people," he told her, the soft, trilling notes falling over them. 
"Mary tells me I’m getting old before my time. That at 32 I’m fast 
sliding down hill. I’ll need a cane soon."

Giggling, Christy turned to look at him. "I highly doubt that, Alex. I 
wish my students could hear you play. We have a piano, you know."

"I didn’t want to play for a very long time," Alex admitted. "But I 
remember sitting at the piano with you…playing you every tune I knew. 
You’d sing like a little bird, albeit off key. You’d put your head on my 
shoulder and fall asleep like that. Come to think of it…Rebecca used to 
do that, too."

Christy regarded Alex with a shaky smile. "Yes, I remember that now. I 
know you still miss her very much. So do I. She was so good to me."

He nodded, still playing. "I won’t lie. I still think of her now and 
then. But it gets easier with time. The thing about it is…I feel guilty 
at times for wanting to move on with my life. It’s been two years since 
she died. And yet it seems like yesterday when we got married. I want to 
be worthy of her memory."

Christy felt the emotion behind his words. Alex had loved Rebecca with 
his entire heart and soul. Losing her had taken a huge piece out of him. 
And yet his faith in God had seldom wavered. 

She had also seen the look on Mary’s face when Alex had arrived. Her 
friend had known Alex since the two were children. And Christy guessed 
that the teacher might harbor some deeper feelings for him. She hoped 
Alex would allow that possibility into his life. He needed a good woman 
in his life like Mary Glynn.

"You were so brave," she quietly said, lightly touching his shoulder. "I 
think Rebecca would be very proud of you, Alex."

"God blessed us with six years," he said simply, the tune fading to a 
close. "That’s more than many people are allowed, Christy. I don’t 
regret it. Or take it for granted. He’s pulled me out of many a dark 
night of loneliness. I think of that verse in Psalms where David says 
his many tears watered his couch each night. That was me, Christy."

She nodded, noticing how the few gray hairs mingling with the dark wavy 
hair became him now. They were like a badge of courage. "Yes…I think I 
know what you mean."

Mrs. Shea came into the room then, bustling over to the low table. 
Christy took the heavy tray from her as Alex rose from the piano bench. 
The smell of Earl Grey tea and fresh oatmeal cookies wafted under his 
nose and he thanked Mrs. Shea.

"A repast fit for royalty, Mrs. Shea," he remarked as he sat down on the 
sofa. "And fresh cookies to boot. Thank you so much."

"I know Miss Christy likes my cookies," Mrs. Shea beamed, brushing some 
crumbs from her starched apron. "Even when she was a young girl in 
braids."

Blushing, Christy leaned over to squeeze her hand lightly. "Your cookies 
floated through my dreams many times, Mrs. Shea. Too bad Alex never sent 
me any while I was in Cutter Gap!"

After the housekeeper had left, Christy poured the tea, careful not to 
spill any. The service reminded her of Miss Alice and her beautiful 
cabin, the lovely furnishings, the warm fire…and Miss Alice herself. 

Her eyes lingered on the delicate dish holding lemon slices. What a 
luxury, she thought. She remembered how David’s old sweetheart Cecil had 
told Ruby Mae that lemons would help tame her freckles. She smiled 
faintly at the memory, of Ruby Mae begging Miss Alice to take her to El 
Pano to buy them. She would give anything to see Ruby Mae and her 
freckles right now. Even to eat some of her possum surprise. 

"Penny for your thoughts," Alex quietly said, taking the cup from her. 
"Or should I say a jar of sauerkraut? I think that’s the going currency 
at the Mission store."

Christy laughed despite herself. "You have a good memory, Alex. David 
used to bury it in the back yard, we had so much of it. Maybe I should 
have shipped it to you to sell. You always were a brilliant salesman. 
Especially in the courtroom."

"I have your father to thank for that," Alex remarked, stirring some 
sugar into his tea. "He is a living, breathing example of what a 
prosecutor should be. I learned so much from him. Can’t tell you how 
much I enjoy working with him again."

They talked about Alex’s return to her father’s law firm. About George’s 
exploits at school that year. The upcoming dinner on the grounds at the 
church. Christy barely nibbled on the fragrant oatmeal cookie, hardly 
able to eat. She hadn’t had any appetite since her return to Asheville. 
Alex had noticed that and had told Mrs. Shea to bake the cookies in 
hopes of enticing her to eat.  But it didn’t appear to be working.

"I seem to remember that you had a liking for Beethoven," Alex said as 
he stood, moving back to the piano. "Nothing would make me happier than 
to hear you play again."

Christy carefully folded her napkin and placed it on the tea tray, 
trying to hide a smile. "Are you sure? I seem to remember that you fell 
asleep in one of my recitals many years ago."

Alex threw back his head and laughed in memory of that evening. He had 
been clerking in a law firm in those days, grabbing sleep where he 
could. Rebecca had promised Christy he would be there for her recital 
and he had kept his promise. But she had never bargained for the coda of 
snores that had accompanied her rendition of a Mozart divertimento. 

"I can still see you leaning against the wall, you mouth agape," Christy 
teased, her eyes alight with laughter. "My piano teacher later told me 
it was the most unusual percussive accompaniment she had ever heard."

Alex opened his mouth to reply when Mrs. Shea returned, wringing her 
hands. "I hate to interrupt, Master Alex, but there’s an urgent call for 
you from New York. About the Shelton case?"

Nodding, Alex looked over at Christy apologetically. "Excuse me just a 
moment, Christy. But this call can’t wait. Your father asked me to speak 
to Randall Shelton and it’s vital I do so."

"Please, don’t mind me," she assured him, settling down at the piano. 
"I’ll be perusing your music collection and trying to find something to 
play that will keep you awake."

Alex left the room, irritated that his business was interrupting his 
pleasant afternoon with Christy. Time seemed to speed by when they were 
together. She had such a quick wit and a sharp mind. But Christy also 
seemed to understand his need for companionship, for a friend. He had 
left her a little girl but had returned to find her a mature, sweet, 
Godly woman.

Unfortunately, his phone call took longer than he liked. It was amazing 
how many tiny details Mr. Shelton could find to discuss. Usually Alex 
was patient man but today was proving to be a trial. He could hear 
Christy playing different tunes, the music faintly drifting down the 
hall. It felt good to know she was there.

Finally he was free. As Alex strode down the hall, his footsteps slowed 
as the music floated through the hall. It was a simple enough tune, one 
he had never heard before. But the simple wistful sound of it tugged on 
his heart.

Standing in the doorway, Alex watched her thoughtfully as she began to 
sing softly:

Down in the valley,
 valley so low
Hang your head over
 hear the wind blow.
Hear the wind blow, love,
 hear the wind blow;
Hang your head over,
 hear the wind blow.

The notes were somber, distant, as if coming from the mountains she had 
come from. And Alex’s thoughts fell like rain droplets. What had 
happened to this sweet, young woman to make her seem so lonely? Was her 
longing for the children, for Cutter Gap so strong? Or was there someone 
in particular that she missed?

He silently moved into the drawing room, his sterling gray eyes poised 
on the young woman at the piano. Even in the short time she’d been home, 
he had noticed how thin she’d become. And pale. She brushed it off as 
simply being tired but he wondered. 

The final notes faded, died and Alex moved forward, released from the 
spell she had cast. His large, strong hands rested on her shoulders and 
held fast, comforting, supporting. They were such small shoulders, he 
thought. It was time to get to the bottom of this.

"Christy, dear girl, you have to tell me what happened. I can’t bear to 
see you like this."

His words were low, gentle…beguiling. Christy’s weary heart sought that 
kindness, that haven of understanding. For the last few weeks she had 
kept her feelings shoved down deep, hidden from sight. She didn’t want 
her mother to know that her pillow was soaked with tears in the morning. 
Much as King David had once "watered" his couch with his weeping.

She had tried to return to her old life by attending a number of 
parties, gatherings, and events to please her family. She had visited 
her friends, listened to the local gossip. And it had left her cold and 
flat.  She dreamed of the Cove, of Fairlight  and Mountie and Miss 
Alice. Of drinking cool water from a mountain stream. Riding Buttons 
over a rise. And waltzing with Neil MacNeil beside the river…

"Alex…" she breathed, looking up into his eyes, uncertainty lingering in 
her own. It was not fair to burden him like this. He had his own trials, 
his own worries. His life was full now that he had returned to 
Asheville.

He saw the unspoken hesitation resting there, her blue eyes dark and 
bottomless. Christy wasn’t one to seek pity or to share her burdens. But 
he braved that look with his own unwavering gaze. She wasn’t going to 
elude him this time.

"I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s on your heart, friend," 
he told her, as he sat down on the piano bench beside her. "And I think 
you know I can be as stubborn as you, Christy."

Gently, Alex tugged her so that she leaned against him, her head on his 
shoulder much as she had done as a child. Christy let out a deep breath, 
feeling the strength in that shoulder. The low sound of his breathing. 
And slowly, falteringly the words began to come.


Chapter: Six
Summary: Margaret's health takes a surprising turn


Alice Henderson poured herself a cup of coffee, looking out of the 
kitchen window of her son-in-law’s cabin. Daylight was beginning to fade 
softly into darkness. The violet and saffron hues spread out like 
outstretched fingers against the sky, stark against the trees. Soon to 
fade into black.

Just as her daughter’s life was slowly fading, she thought with an 
ironic twist of her lips.

In the next room, Ross Campbell was with Neil, examining Margaret. Neil 
had sent for Ross last week in hopes of solving the mystery of 
Margaret’s health, why she again was losing ground. Her symptoms baffled 
him as they had Alice.

For the last month, Alice had watched her only daughter once again begin 
to lose her grip on life. Only now…it was different. Before she had been 
sarcastic and bitter, hardly willing to talk to anyone or speak civilly, 
chain-smoking cigarettes. But time and Cutter Gap had soothed some of 
Margaret’s rough edges. And so had Neil MacNeil. With patience and 
prayer, he had stayed the course of his marriage.

No, they weren’t a loving, married couple as Alice had secretly hoped 
they might become. Alice felt a little foolish even remembering that 
wish. Every mother wanted their child to be happy, to be loved. But time 
and circumstances had altered the pair so greatly. 

At the same time, the former lovers had become friends, reaching out to 
each other over the days for meaning and understanding. It was a 
blessing Alice had been grateful for in light of Margaret’s fading 
health. 

Deep in her heart Alice knew that the end was approaching, slowly but 
surely like footsteps in the grass. Steps you could hardly hear they 
were so quiet but that grew surely closer until they were upon you.

Alice now came to visit her daughter nearly every day, putting her usual 
schedule into shambles. But it no longer mattered. Each day her daughter 
was a little weaker, a little paler, and yet…happier somehow. She had 
even asked Alice to read the Bible to her, chapter after chapter. She 
sometimes talked about what they read, but not always. But it was clear 
she found comfort there.

It was the only time in her life, save a brief spate in her marriage to 
Neil, that Margaret seemed to have given up her rebellion, to have laid 
aside her anger. No, it had not taken place overnight. But the caustic 
remarks had grown fewer. The selfish dramatics had settled into 
thoughtfulness. She had taken to reminiscing about her childhood in 
Ardmore, the happy, carefree days she had known there. Alice had enjoyed 
sharing those with her, holding her daughter’s hand. This was the 
Margaret she loved, the one she had tried to remember when the difficult 
days had come.

Just then Alice heard the sound of boots and then the door to Margaret’s 
room came open. The two men stepped into the room and Neil bade them all 
sit at the fire. His face was pinched and drawn, his expression 
difficult to read. But Alice knew the news was not good.

Neil poured Ross a cup of coffee but none for himself. Alice could see 
the toll the last few weeks had taken on him, the nights spent studying 
medical texts and wondering. Questioning. Baffled. Now it appeared that 
he had some answers.

Ross, his hands on his knees, spoke quietly to Alice. "Margaret’s 
kidneys are failing Alice. I’m certain of it. There’s no easier way for 
me to say it."

Nodding shortly, Alice did not appear totally surprised. "I had 
guessed…what with her thirst and her weakness. Her lungs were 
quite…unaffected. I knew it could not be the disease returning. Ross…I 
thank thee for they honesty. I would not wish it otherwise."

"The treatments weakened her system," Neil tonelessly remarked, his eyes 
staring into the fire. "And now…well her body..it’s shutting down."

Alice knew what they were telling her. Margaret was going to die. And 
this time there would be no 11th hour rescue. "Is there any way…we can 
make her more comfortable?" she softly asked, her voice low and 
tremulous.

Ross shook his head. "You've done all you can, Alice.She’s in the best 
of hands, as I told Neil. It won’t be…much longer. A matter of weeks, 
days, really. She won’t be in pain, Alice. I promise you that."

Alice stood up abruptly, walking over to the kitchen window again. She 
needed to see the light, to see the glow of it. To know it was still 
there. That she had Margaret with her a little while longer. That was 
comfort enough. God had granted them that gift.

Ross, weary as he was, knew that it was best if he left the two alone to 
talk about the future. Neil saw him out and then returned to find Alice 
still in the kitchen, her hands clutching a dish rag for dear life, 
twisting it in her hands.

How Neil now admired this woman. She had endured a life few would envy. 
A modest life of embracing the Quaker faith, a faith she had nearly been 
outcast from due to Margaret’s birth. Pioneering schools and missions in 
this forgotten corner of the world, where poverty and ignorance ran as 
deep as oak tree roots. Rejected time and time again by that daughter. 
And now to watch that beloved child die.  It seemed too much to ask.

"Dear God," he silently prayed. "Help me to comfort Alice. To give her 
some relief. To be strong for her. So she will know she’s not alone in 
this. That I care about her."

Moving into the kitchen, he spoke quietly. "Alice, I…I’m sorry…I didn’t 
want it to happen like this. Not like this. You must know that."

Startled, Alice looked up and her surprise faded into an affection gaze. 
"Oh Neil, I do not blame thee. Do not think it. If anyone is aware of 
what thee has gone through to maintain thy marriage to Margaret, I do. 
I…was just thinking…how lucky we’ve been…to have her here as long as we 
have."

Running a hand through his unruly hair, Neil nodded, coming to stand 
beside her. "I know," he said, taking her trembling hands in his to 
steady them. "I realized…a few days ago that God allowed her to get 
better so she could come here to Cutter Gap to die. To make her peace 
with Him. And to find some comfort from those who care for her."

Squeezing his hands, Alice nodded, tears in her eyes. "Yes, God did," 
she murmured. "Do you sense what I do…that Margaret is realizing her 
need…for a savior?"

Neil released her hands slowly, looking out of the window as she had. 
Falling through the prism-like glass, the light caught in his fiery red 
hair, shining, gleaming bright in the brilliance of it. "Yes, I think 
she is. She asks me questions now and then. And I know she reads the 
Bible when I am gone and you’ve not yet arrived. I find it open beside 
her bed."

Alice had suspected this but had not wished to presume upon it. God 
worked in ways she had yet to understand. It was often best to stand 
back and watch Him do so.  "Then I think it is time I spoke with her 
properly," Alice quietly said. "That is…if you do not mind?"

Neil shook his head, admiring this woman who had helped him stumble onto 
the path to new life. "It would be my greatest wish, Alice, for Margaret 
to hear it from you."

Alice gathered her thoughts and prayed that God would speak through her. 
That her daughter’s heart would be open and fertile for the love that 
God wanted to pour into it. And her feet began to move toward the door.

After Alice had gone into Margaret’s room, Neil walked out onto the 
porch, glad to be out of the house. It was almost too much for him, the 
shadows that lingered.  The memories that came and went like ghosts.

He could remember playfully carrying Margaret up the steps and over the 
threshold into the cabin a few days after they were married. He could 
even hear her laughter, like soft bells in a breeze. She had been a 
feisty, beautiful woman in those days, a suggestion of a barely banked 
fire lurking just beneath. Falling in love with Margaret had been easy. 
Staying in love with her had proven to me much more elusive. 

"We never should have married," he thought grimly as he lit his pipe. 
"She was never meant to be here. Even then I probably knew it. And we 
nearly tore each other to pieces in the process."

Neil hadn’t known that when he had seen her walking down the city street 
as a young man pursuing his residency. He could only see the way her 
dark hair rested on her shoulders, how her green eyes flashed and danced 
with delight. The ways she walked. Her coquettish smile. She had hooked 
him surely as he had caught trout in the stream. He had gone under 
before he had even known he was wet. 

How different she was now, her beauty faded and worn by unhealthy living 
and illness. And yet Neil knew there was still something in Margaret 
stirring for comprehension. To find answers to life’s questions. To 
resolve her past. Just a week ago he had brought her some soup that she 
had barely touched. She had been quiet, lately saying little. But as 
rose to leave her bedside, she had placed her hand on his sleeve.

Neil looked down at her hand, and then up into her eyes, curious. "Are 
you alright?"

She glanced away, almost embarrassed. "Mac," she began cautiously. "I…I 
have to ask you something."

He resumed his seat, setting the tray aside patiently. She had been 
stewing on something all day and he was waiting for her questions. "What 
is it, Margaret? You know you can ask me anything."

Her fingers were toying with a handkerchief, her eyes listless. 
"Mother…she was reading to me yesterday about…forgiveness. And I didn’t 
understand it."

Neil nodded, resting one of his hands atop hers. "Why is that? Tell me."

Her words came slowly, hesitantly, like a seedling trying to break free 
of the soil. "How could God forgive like that? How…how can you forgive 
me for what I’ve done to you? For leaving you and letting you think…I 
was dead all that time. You brought me here and I complained and jeered 
at you. And yet…you didn’t yell at me or turn me out."

Closing his eyes, Neil momentarily thanked God for her question. He had 
wondered, hoped that God was somehow speaking to his wife. He needn’t 
have worried. 

"Margaret, I have to tell you it wasn’t easy. Someone…a friend told me 
that I would never find peace if I didn’t forgive you. I fought it out 
in my mind for quite a while," he gently told her. "But when I gave my 
life to God, he forgave me. By his grace, he washed my sins away, erased 
all the wrongs I had done. It was then I knew…I could not be true to God 
and not forgive you. And to give us a chance to renew our marriage."

Looking up at last into Neil’s face, Margaret simply asked, "That 
friend…it was Miss Huddleston, wasn’t it? I know she turned down the 
preacher’s proposal."

Neil would not lie to her. He couldn’t now with so much at stake. "Yes, 
Christy said that. And she was right. The anger I felt was only hurting 
me and darkening my life. I knew I didn’t want that to continue. You do 
know that Alice has forgiven you as well, don’t you?"

Nodding, Margaret had lightly squeezed his hand. "Yes, she told me back 
in Boston that she had. I just…find it difficult to believe, I guess. 
That just doesn’t happen…in the world I’ve lived in over the last few 
years. You only get one chance. To know that …that young school teacher 
wanted you to forgive me…well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She 
really is a good woman, Mac. Much better than me."

He read the pain in her tired eyes and brushed the curls from her 
forehead lightly. "Christy is a good woman and she’s my friend. But, 
Margaret, you are a good woman, too. I care about you. And God does, 
too. No matter what you’ve done, or where you’ve been…He’s there. You 
can talk to him about it. And He will forgive. I promise you that."

She had no replied, too weak now to continue the conversation. But Neil 
had noticed a definite softening in her after that. Something he had 
never seen in her before. God was moving in her, changing her as she lay 
there.

And now her life was coming to and end. As a doctor and as a husband, 
Neil knew that in the bottom of his soul. Suddenly he felt an intense 
wave of loneliness rising within his chest. He knew God was with him, 
that everything would be all right as long as he trusted Him. But he 
longed for a companion to pour his soul out to. To share his feelings 
with. And he knew the only person he could do that with was Christy.

He missed her at times with an intensity that was as fast as a rising 
river in flood. And it was the small, seemingly insignificant things he 
thought of. The way she wrinkled her nose when she didn’t like 
something. Her attempts to sing. How she had to stand on a chair to 
reach something in the kitchen cupboard. Her voice as it read out 
spelling words to the children. He had taken those little things for 
granted. He had not even fathomed what life in the Cove without her 
might be like.

The letters they exchanged did little to assuage that ache but he was 
grateful for them. Any contact with her was a treasure. To know that she 
remained his friend despite the distance and the past. Margaret had not 
always been kind to her. That Christy was praying for him and for 
Margaret touched his heart. She truly was a good woman and so much more.

Reaching into his shirt pocket, Neil realized he hadn’t had time to read 
the letter Ben Pentland had given him that morning. He had been 
preparing a light meal for Margaret at the time. Dan Scott was kindly 
taking on half of his patient load. Some of the Cove residents were not 
all pleased by that but Neil could do little to change it. Dan could 
handle himself well and he aimed to let him have the chance to prove it. 
He had no choice. Dan was almost giddy at being able to truly "doctor" 
for a change.

Christy’s letters were always kind and thoughtful, often full of Bible 
verses or quotes from men of faith she had read about. He had told her 
of his concerns for Margaret’s health and that he feared she was dying. 
Christy was giving him what support she could. He was grateful for that. 
Just the week before she had sent him some passages from a Christian man 
from Scotland named Oswald Chambers who ran a school in London. While 
Chambers had little published work, Neil felt that the man seemed to 
have an innate sense of human nature aligned with God’s grace. 

She rarely wrote about herself, he noted, which worried him. They had 
always been so open with each other in the past, devoid of pretense. 
What little she did say was that she was enjoying her visit, her 
speaking engagements, and her time with her family.  She gave him 
progress reports on her father. She also peppered him with endless 
questions about the children. It was what she was not saying that was 
bothering him most.

He unfolded the letter and began to read by the glow of the lantern. The 
writing was not as neat as usual but it was definitely Christy’s hand. 
That puzzled him but he continued on to read it.

Dear Neil:

It was good to hear from you. Congratulations on delivering Matty’s new 
baby.  Miss Alice wrote to me about it. They must be tickled pink in the 
Cove, especially Opal. My parents send you and everyone their warmest 
greetings. As I write, Daddy is being pestered by my mother to take 
their evening stroll. He bears her orders well.

Thank you for filling me in on the children. Has Rob’s ankle healed 
since he tripped over the rabbit hole? I know Bob must need his help 
desperately at the mill. Make sure you also tell Becky not to read at 
night when the light is poor. She just wrote, asking for more books, 
which my brother George is wrapping up as I write. Tell her they are on 
the way.

I am so sorry that Margaret’s health continues to fail. My prayers go 
out to you, Margaret, and Miss Alice. Sometimes it feels as if the 
darkness threatens to cover everything, to block us from God’s grace and 
comfort. 

If anything, I hope you are not blaming yourself in any way. I know how 
you tend to hold yourself responsible for so much. You could not predict 
that this was going to happen.  Nor do you somehow hold all the answers 
as a doctor. I am sure that soon you will know what is ailing her. I 
will be praying for that daily. And that Margaret will surrender her 
life to God and feel his presence.

It’s in times of the darkest night that we have to cling to God for our 
light. Even when we cannot see him, He really is there. I know it is 
easy for me to sit in Asheville and tell you it’s going to be all right. 
I know you are confused, afraid. So I turn to God’s word and give you 
this:

"But the person who trusts in the Lord will be blessed,
The Lord will show him that he can be trusted.
He will be strong, like a tree planted near water that sends its roots 
by a stream."
Jeremiah 17:7.

That’s how I think of you, Neil. Standing beside the stream in front of 
your cabin, drawing strength from the God who loves you and Margaret as 
his own children. While it may be well nigh unbearable right now, God 
will hold you up. That I promise.

Your sister in Christ,
Christy

Neil re-read the letter again, drinking in the words and the scripture 
she had given him. Somehow she had known just the right verse. Just the 
proper words to give him hope. And rest. How he wished she was there so 
he could reach out and touch her hand, to squeeze that small, delicate 
hand that gave so much, expecting nothing in return.

Even miles away, Christy could read his mind. He had marveled at her 
perception early on in their friendship. How she had braved his 
bullheaded attitude about Dan Scott. How angry she had been about the 
death of Opal’s baby. She cared deeply, that was for certain, and she 
didn’t let you forget it. In that way, she shared some of Margaret’s 
fiery temperament. But Christy’s zeal was out of concern for others. Not 
for her own sense of rebellion and righteousness.

Yet something tugged at the back of his mind, bothered him still. Ever 
since he had seen her on that fateful day at the mission, crying, he had 
wondered. Why had she so quietly slipped away? What was it that had made 
her leave? Alice had told him that she needed the rest, the time with 
her family. But her letters proved she missed the children. It sometimes 
woke him up at night, the curiosity. 

Almost guiltily, Neil let himself think about her in Asheville. 
Beautifully gowned in a silken gown of summer roses, her sun-streaked 
hair braided on top of her head like a small queen. Dancing at a society 
fete with a handsome young man eager to please. Strolling down the busy 
street, on his arm her dark blue eyes sparkling with laughter. She had 
not said anything about parties or her social calendar. He knew she had 
been travelling some for Ferrand. 

But Neil was keenly aware that Mrs. Huddleston enjoyed showing her 
daughter off whenever possible. Had Christy met someone she liked 
spending time with? A man free to love her as he was not? Would she even 
return in the fall as she had promised?

He brushed aside his thoughts as he blew a smoke ring over his head. It 
was useless to pursue this line of thinking in light of the 
circumstances. Poor Margaret was laying not 20 feet away, facing death 
with a calm that amazed him. Had it only been a few months ago when she 
had wept in his arms next to that very stream, wanting to come home to 
him? He may not have been there for her all those lonely times during 
their marriage. He knew she had suffered for that. But she needed him 
now. And he was going to be there for her.

Stubbing out his pipe, Neil went inside and stopped abruptly when he 
found the door to Margaret’s room open. Alice was sitting on the edge of 
the bed, tears streaming down her face. But they were not tears of 
sorrow. Something had changed.

Margaret slowly turned her face toward him, her eyes lit with an inner 
glow that he had never seen before. Despite her weariness, she held out 
her hand to him. "Come here, Mac," she softly called. "I need to tell 
you something."

And that was when he knew. Margaret had met God and found His love. The 
love that never disappoints and casts out all fear. She had found peace 
at last.

With tears in his eyes, Neil took her hand and knelt beside the bed.


Chapter: 7
Summary: Christy finds herself in a new crisis

Chapter 7

George Huddleston threw the baseball up in the air and caught it in his 
glove deftly, pacing slowly down the wide verandah of his home. 
Fortunately, his mother was indoors or she would be scolding him for not 
trimming the hedge. But at the moment, he truly didn’t care if she did.

The August sunlight was fading with the end of day, he noticed. He could 
see Mr. Wilcox walking across the street, his evening paper under one 
arm and a loaf of bread tucked under the other as he headed for home. 
The accountant was whistling a jaunty tune as little Jeremy Sanders 
whizzed by on his bicycle. Down the block, the Drinkwater twins were 
beginning to argue over whose turn it was to bathe Sammy, the family 
beagle. It was a typical summer evening on Dunston Street, George 
thought with an ironic laugh.

He usually enjoyed watching the activity but tonight his thoughts were 
distracted. He was impatiently waiting for Alex Remington to arrive to 
talk some sense in to his big sister.

Inside his mother was awaiting Alex also, doing her best not to appear 
anxious. She was instructing Matty on how to prepare the pork for dinner 
while arranging some flowers. His father was in Nashville consulting 
with some brother lawyers concerning an upcoming case. 

Still tossing the baseball, George leaned against the freshly painted 
post. He’d done it himself three days ago as his annual attempt at 
helping his parents with the house. Normally Christy enjoyed taking part 
in such activities, teasing him about his woeful painting ability and 
enlisting the neighborhood children to help. But not this year. She 
hadn’t even had the strength to come out and watch. 

Meanwhile, Alex was closing his briefcase as he prepared to leave his 
office. Julia Huddleston’s phone call earlier that day had been tugging 
on his thoughts throughout the day. He was eager to leave the piles of 
paperwork on his desk and head for the Huddleston’s house.

Alex had been thinking about Christy as well. They had grown close again 
over the past few months, sharing their secret thoughts and dreams. Over 
time, he had come to learn that the name Neil MacNeil was deeply 
engraved over her heart and that it had caused her to come home for the 
summer. He had shared his own concerns about the future, about perhaps 
considering marriage again. It had been such a relief to confide in her. 

Alex knew that Julia and William were pleased to see him so often at the 
house. At first, Julia had cherished a secret wish to see a romance 
blossom between her daughter and the lawyer. But Christy had soon shown 
her the error of her thinking, that they shared a friendship and nothing 
beyond. In fact, Christy had been subtly urging him to pursue a 
relationship with Mary Glynn. And he had to admit that the idea was 
growing on him by the day. Perhaps it was time to put off his mourning 
robes and live again, love again.

The high pitched sound of Alex’s horn jolted George out of his reverie 
as he parked in front of the Huddleston house, opening the door and 
stepping out. "Practicing up for the Gadston Gadflies, George?" he asked 
with amusement. "I think they could use you next season."

"Aw, they throw like girls," George good-naturedly replied, setting his 
ball and glove aside. "And I’m too busy catching fish to catch fly balls 
these days. Wish you could have joined us, Alex. The weather was 
perfect!"

Nodding, Alex mounted the steps to the verandah. "So do I. But I 
couldn’t get away. What with your father out of town, I’ve been trying 
to juggle some of his clients for him. Did you catch anything?"

"Not much but we had fun," George answered. "It was good to be with the 
gang, out in the woods and all. Mother near about fainted when she saw 
me walking up the sidewalk on my way home, said I smelled like an 
escaped convict off the chain gang from Atlanta. But I convinced her it 
was me under all the dirt."

Chuckling, Alex took off his hat and tossed it onto a nearby rocker. 
"You don’t say? Well, next time count me in. A good spot of fishing at 
Porter’s Bend cannot be missed twice with summer coming to an end soon."

He paused, and his expression took on a more serious air. "I spoke to 
your mother earlier today, George. She wanted me to talk to Christy. 
Care to fill me in?"

George regarded Alex with an equally solemn look. "Well, I’m sure you’ve 
noticed that…well, Christy hasn’t been well since she came home. At 
first it was hardly noticeable. We all thought she was just tired. 
But…it’s more than that."

His brow furrowing, Alex leaned against the post opposite George. He 
nodded slowly, as if admitting it to himself. "I noticed. She hardly 
eats. And I know she’s been having headaches. She won’t even say 
anything about it any longer but I can tell. If I even mention it, she 
brushes it aside."

George crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze lingering on the 
shadows growing on the sidewalk. "I went to the station yesterday to 
fetch her and it was like seeing a ghost, Alex. She’s all skin and 
bones, weak as a kitten. And I don’t think it’s from pining for Cutter 
Gap any longer."

For a tense moment, Alex didn’t speak. He was thinking of the last time 
he had seen her, the day she had gotten the letter from David about 
Margaret’s death. She had seemed calm about it, sad for Miss Alice and 
for Neil MacNeil…but overjoyed that Margaret had given her life to God. 
She had been overflowing with thanks to God that it had not been too 
late.

"I never would have believed it if David hadn’t told me," she softly 
told him, her blue eyes damp with tears. "I had to call him at the 
mission just to make sure. Neil, well, he’s taking her death hard but 
David says he’s accepting it. I just hope Miss Alice can cope."

He had noticed then that she wasn’t eating her lunch, only shoving the 
pieces around on the plate. Her heart-shaped face was angular now, the 
plumpness gone from her cheeks. She grew tired quickly, her pale face 
weary from the effort. No, it wasn’t Cutter Gap that was making Christy 
a ghost. It had to be something else.

"Christy, have you written to Dr. MacNeil at all?" he had asked, wishing 
he could make her eat something. Anything.

"Yes, I have," she admitted. "And told me about Margaret’s health 
deteriorating. I was so afraid that it might cause him to turn away from 
God, to make him regret his decision. But he just digs in deeper, 
leaning on Him that much more. It’s…it’s a relief to know he’s not 
bitter about it."

"She needs to see a doctor, Alex," George quietly concluded, breaking 
into his thoughts. "But the last time mother even mentioned the word, 
Christy walked out of the room. Refused to even listen. And that was the 
end of it. You have to make her go, Alex. Mother’s prepared to have 
someone kidnap her to get her there."

Alex had no doubt that Julia was at her wit’s end. She had been worried 
about Christy since she had come home and no doubt she was feeling 
rather helpless with William gone. She had sounded as if she were near 
tears on the telephone.

"I’ll talk to her, George," Alex promised. "I promise I’ll do what I 
can."

With a half smile, George opened the screen door and they walked into 
the high-ceiling foyer. "Thanks, Alex. Don’t know what we’d do without 
you," he murmured before heading for the stairs to change for dinner.

Christy looked up from her letter as Alex entered the parlor, her tired 
eyes full of welcome. "Oh, Alex, …it’s so good to see you! Mother never 
said a word about it. Then again she’s been rearranging those flowers 
for the last two hours. I should have guessed."

Grinning like a boy, Alex let his eyes rest on his friend fully. George 
was right. She looked so vulnerable sitting there, so tired and worn. No 
makeup or hair arrangement could hide that now. He noticed how her hand 
shook as she held the pencil. As if too weak to even write. They had all 
wanted to believe she was just tired. 

"I haven’t seen you since you went to Knoxville so I thought I’d invite 
myself to dinner," he told her, moving over to where she sat. "I was 
hoping we could sit in the garden for a little while before we eat. The 
air’s cooled down a bit."

Turning in her seat, Christy nodded. It was good to see Alex again. She 
had missed him while she was away. Knoxville had been enjoyable but 
rough on her as well. She hadn’t slept hardly at all, despite the 
constant fatigue. She simply couldn’t seem to shake it. She was grateful 
for his outstretched arm as they left the parlor and into the hall.

As they made their way down the neatly trimmed path to the rose arbor, 
Alex felt her small hand curved over his arm. She was truly leaning on 
him for strength, her tiny frame lacking energy. She had to listen to 
him, he thought. This could not continue. 

They sat on the whicker settee, Christy glad to be sitting down. The 
cushion behind her back felt so good and she sighed with relief. A robin 
was making a nest in the tree above them, fluttering to and for. It was 
also wonderful to be back in Alex’s company, despite his attempts at 
being light and friendly. 

"Alex, I know why you’re here," she gently said, making no attempt at 
pretense. "So don’t spend the half hour trying to lead into a 
conversation that we can go ahead and dispense with now. I’m too tired 
to fence with you tonight."

Somewhat surprised, Alex draped his arm over the back of the settee, 
leaning toward her "You do? And what would that be?"

She lowered her voice, hoping her mother wasn’t listening from somewhere 
in the kitchen. "You’re here to talk me into seeing Dr. Kenner. I’m 
right, aren’t I? Mother sent out the rescue call earlier today. That’s 
why you’re here and George isn’t with his pals playing baseball. I may 
be tired but I’m not blind, Alex."

She could read him like a book, Alex thought guiltily. Christy had never 
been one to keep her head in the clouds. "That’s part of why I’m here, 
yes," he answered, lightly touching her shoulder. "Your family is 
worried about you. And frankly, so am I."

Christy smiled weakly, hardly knowing what to say. The last few weeks 
had been difficult ones and yet mentally comforting at the same time. 
She had been spending time with her Bible, seeking God’s will for her 
life. He had led her through scriptures she had forgotten, showered his 
love over her. Her longing for the Cove had been slacking somewhat 
already thanks to Alex’s kindness and ability to listen. God had 
comforted her in her loneliness and given her new peace.

The news of Margaret’s death had humbled her, stirred her. She wondered 
if Neil was all right, if he was angry, sad or simply relieved. Likely 
it was a combination. Knowing Margaret had accepted Christ was the 
greatest comfort at a time like this. She was relieved to know that the 
woman who had known so much ugliness and pain in her life had found rest 
at last.

But Christy could no longer deny the facts. She couldn’t eat without 
feeling sick. She could hardly cross the room now without becoming 
dizzy. Sleep eluded her at every turn. And the headaches that came at 
night were nearly impossible to bear. This wasn’t loneliness or a 
momentary lag in energy. It was more than that.

Alex watched her carefully. Poor lamb, he thought. After all she’s been 
through and now this to top it off. "Christy, you have to see a doctor. 
We have to find out what’s wrong with you. This charade of you’re being 
alright has to stop."

She nodded briefly, looking away as she considered his words. "I 
know…you’re right, Alex."

He reached over to take her hand in his, holding it lightly. She had 
been a lifeline to him since his return to Asheville, a beacon of light. 
She had helped him to see that he did have a life to live, that God had 
a plan for him. Through their mutual pain, they had forged a strong 
friendship that he cherished and thanked God for.

"I’ll go see Dr. Kenner if you will do something for me," she finally 
told him, looking up at him expectantly, with some of her old fire. He 
was pleased to see it.

"Name it," he gently said, squeezing her hand. She held onto it.

"Tell me you’ll ask Mary Glynn to the Hamilton’s fete next Friday," she 
teasingly demanded. "And then I’ll go to the Doctor."

Alex blushed, feeling his neck going red. He and Christy had talked 
about Mary at length. He had enjoyed Mary’s company over the last month 
at the weekly Bible study her brother held in his home. And last week he 
had escorted her to the summer picnic at Piney Wood Lake. She was fast 
growing dear to his heart. For the first time since Rebecca’s death, 
Alex could actually see a future with another woman.

"I don’t think you’ll have to work too hard to get me to do that," Alex 
murmured, smiling at her request. "She’s already said "yes" to me. So 
what else can I do for you? There must be something else you need."

The humor faded somewhat from her eyes as she spoke. "I…will you come 
with me, Alex? To see Dr. Kenner? I..I’m afraid of what he might say."

Putting his arm around her, Alex drew her against his shoulder. She 
found reassurance in his words. "You can count on it, Christy."

A few weeks later…

David Grantland put down the receiver of the mission house telephone, 
looking somewhat puzzled. Rose, sitting nearby with a bowl of snap beans 
in her lap, noticed it at once. She been half listening to the 
conversation and had some questions of her own.

"David, is something wrong?" she asked as she wiped her hands on her 
apron. It was nearly time for his weekly Bible study with Dr. MacNeil. 
"Was Neil called away on an emergency? Everything okay?"

Shaking his head slowly, David replied, "No, it wasn’t that. I just 
finished speaking with a gentleman from Asheville."

Just then Neil MacNeil’s redheaded profile came into view. "How d'ye do, 
Rose? David? Looks like another beautiful sunset out there. Hope we can 
have our study out on the porch. Wouldn’t want to miss the show."

Rose stood, putting aside the bowl to welcome her friend. It was good to 
see Neil smiling again. "We’re just fine, Neil. Did you have a long day? 
Any more harvesters hurt in that storm last night?"

"Aye, one or two," Neil told her as he took off his hat to hang it on 
the wooden peg. In his hand was a freshly carved walking stick. He’d 
taken to whitling since Margaret’s death to occupy his mind, to keep him 
from asking God too many questions that couldn’t be answered.

"God was looking out for those boys, it was nothing serious," he 
explained to Rose, leaning on the stick. But from the look of the good 
reverend, I think I may have another patient on my list to attend to 
now. And it can’t be from Ruby Mae’s cooking for I hear she’s taking 
lessons from you, Rose. That’s reason enough to rejoice."

Chuckling, David glanced up at Neil, greeting him. "Ah but Ruby Mae 
hasn’t gotten to Rose’s level of expertise yet. Still, I’m enjoying the 
improvement. Knowing she can cook anything besides possum gives my 
stomach hope. No, I’m doing fine, Neil. Just puzzling over a phone call 
I got from Asheville. Makes no sense to me at all."

Neil felt a sudden loss of air from his lungs and he sat down hard on a 
caneback chair. He could only associate one person with that city one. 
The woman who haunted his memory…even with Margaret only gone a month 
now. "Asheville? Was it Christy?"

"No, it was a friend of her family," David remarked, joining Neil at the 
table. "Alex Remington. He said her return to the Cove has to be 
delayed. He’s not sure when she’ll be back. That we need to have Cecile 
start the school year until she returns. He hopes it isn’t an 
inconvenience."

"Oh my, Cecile will be in a dither over that," Rose said, thinking of 
her friend. She and Dan Scott’s new bride had become friends over the 
summer. Then she realized that David was not smiling.  "But did he say 
why?"

"That’s the part I can’t figure out," David admitted. "He would only say 
that circumstances prevented her return at this point. Not that she 
doesn’t want to come back. He was a nice enough fellow, I guess. A 
fellow lawyer of her father’s and a friend of the family. I think I 
remember Christy mention him once or twice, come to think of it."

His walking stick balanced on his knees, Neil pondered over the young 
man’s news, his thoughts spinning like tops. He had received a very 
brief note of sympathy from Christy after Margaret’s funeral, extending 
her condolences and her sincere regret that she could not make it for 
the funeral. She was leaving for Knoxville that day for a speaking 
engagement for Dr. Ferrand. 

His features hardened as he let his imagination run wild. Had she fallen 
in love with this lawyer? Was she delaying her return because they were 
planning their future? A stab of jealousy shot through his body, so 
fierce he nearly clenched his teeth in response. Why shouldn’t she? 
Christy was a beautiful young woman full of warmth and energy. It could 
not be surprising that she had been surrounded by beaus upon her return, 
especially a family friend as this Remington seemed to be. He was 
probably handsome, successful, and in love with her. The thought of it 
burned deep into Neil’s chest, nearly choking him.

Or was it that taskmaster, Ferrand? Was he making her stay on to do his 
work? Was the mission work he did so in need of financial help? His 
blood was beginning to boil just imagining it.

"Did he say why she wasn’t calling herself?" Rose asked carefully, 
noticing that Neil was visibly shaken by the news. "She called here when 
she heard about…about Margaret. It seems odd that she wouldn’t make the 
call herself."

David had not mentioned Christy’s call to Neil. The doctor had been 
trying to find peace after Margaret’s death and David didn’t want to add 
to it by discussing Christy. David had his own thoughts about Christy’s 
motivation for staying longer in Asheville. And they had little to do 
with Alex Remington or marriage. He knew Christy well enough to know 
that her love for the doctor had no dissipated by a change of scene.

Having little idea of how transparent his emotions were, David looked up 
to find Neil’s eyes on his face, seeking answers. "You know something, 
don’t you?" Neil murmured. "Don’t lie to me. Something’s wrong."

Resting his arms on the table, David didn’t speak. Rose could see the 
tension building in his shoulders and moved across the room to rest her 
hands on them. He took her hands in his gratefully and held them, 
closing his eyes. "I didn’t want to say anything. I’m only going on my 
suspicions. I have no proof of anything. Merely suspicions."

Neil nearly pounded his fists on the wooden table, his curiosity nearly 
eating him alive. He had long suspected that there was something not 
being said about Christy’s absence. And now this confirmed it. "Say it, 
man. Don’t be shy about it," he ground out. "This isn’t the time to be 
silent."

With Rose behind him, David spoke quietly. "Mrs. Huddleston wrote to me 
a few weeks ago. She asked me to have the children draw some pictures 
for Christy. She said that Christy missed them. That she wanted them to 
do self-portraits so she could have their faces in front of her. I 
didn’t think much of it at the time. I knew she missed them terribly. As 
they missed her. But now…I don’t know. Maybe there’s more to it than 
just missing them."

Neil knew about those pictures.  He’d seen the children at the school 
house working on them, an unusual thing for them to be doing in the 
summer when there was field work to be done or trees to be cut up. But 
Cecile Scott had managed to round them all up. They had been excited at 
the prospect of sending their pictures to the big city of Asheville to 
be seen by their teacher. Creed Allen had even drawn a picture of 
Scaliwag while Sam Houston had sketched a handsome rendering of Prince 
and Buttons. With her own talent for drawing, Neil knew Christy would 
love them.

A sudden thought occurred to Rose as she stood there. Her hands flew to 
her mouth as she murmured, "Oh my goodness…"

Turning in his chair, David looked up at her with concern. "Rose, love, 
what’s wrong? Are you okay? What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, she sat down beside the reverend and let out a 
shaky sigh. "I just remembered something, David. I can’t believe I’d 
forgotten about it. Do you remember a while back when Seth Morton had to 
go to the hospital in Knoxville for that operation?"

Neil certainly did. It had taken place soon after Rose’s arrival in the 
Cove and right before he had taken Margaret to Boston. The boy had 
needed a heart operation to correct a blockage, a delicate procedure 
that had thankfully worked. One of Neil’s chums from medical school had 
performed the operation free of charge. The little boy was now back to 
his active life, chasing rabbits and getting into mischief. But why 
would Rose be thinking of Seth?

"What about it, Rose? What does that have to do with Christy staying in 
Asheville?" David asked gently, reaching out for her hand. He could tell 
she was upset by the way she was rubbing her shoe unconsciously against 
his chair leg. 

"She…she had the children draw pictures of themselves to send to Seth 
while he was in the hospital…so he would have them with him so he 
wouldn’t be afraid," Rose told him, her voice trembling as her eyes 
filled with tears. 

The air was filled with a loaded silence. No one could say a word. The 
thought was too awful to give voice to. To give credence to.

Then the sound of Neil’s walking stick snapping in two shattered the 
silence, more eloquent than words.



Chapter 8

The distant rumble of thunder echoed, slightly rattling the windows of 
Christy’s bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she let it out as pearls of 
water slid down the glass, making slick patterns. It was the third day 
of rain now, edging everything around it with gray, blue, and white.

As a little girl, Christy had been afraid of storms but had brushed 
those fears aside as an adult. Still, she had been terrified the night 
of the thunderstorm when she had been forced to ride to Neil’s cabin o 
fetch the anti-serum for Miss Alice. Poor Prince had nearly bolted for 
home when the tree had fallen in front of him.

But there was one rainy night she would always recall with sweet 
pleasure. If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear Neil’s voice:

"Becky, that’s the sound of the Silky…crying for his lost love."

Almost unwilling to allow the memory to unfold, Christy slowly let it 
come. She could picture Neil now, holding Becky on his lap as he treated 
her eyes. Stroking her hair to reassure her as he told her the story of 
the half-man/half-fish that had married but lost his princess bride. The 
sound of the rain pounding down on the roof as the wind howled about the 
cabin had faded against Neil’s lilting voice. How wonderful it would be 
to rest her head on that muscled chest, to hear his heart beating strong 
beneath her. To feel safe and free of worry of what raged outside the 
door.

But instead she heard her brother’s voice, breaking into her thoughts.

"Christy?"

A soft tap at her bedroom door caused Christy to look up. Lying back on 
the bed, fully dressed, Christy smiled. Her brother George was standing 
in the doorway, an uncertain look clouding his youthful features. It 
seemed almost funny to see her brother so nervous. And wearing a suit on 
a weekday. But it was also endearing to know he cared so much.

"I think we’re about ready to go. Alex has brought the car round with 
Mary and I’ve stowed our trunks. Are you ready to go, sis?"

Slowly she rose from the brass bed, her hand resting on the railing to 
support her. Glancing in the mirror, she hardly recognized the thin face 
she saw with the fashionable hat perched on her head. 

"I hate to ask if of you, little brother. But I think I need your arm. 
Thank goodness Mother and Daddy aren’t here. Mother would be in a fit," 
she remarked.

Attempting a weak smile, George moved into the quiet room to offer his 
arm. "She’d be weeping buckets right now, I think. Just don’t start 
making a habit of this, okay? I seem to remember doing this when you 
came home."

Chuckling, Christy wrapped her hand about her brother’s arm as his other 
went round her tiny waist to guide her. Never would she have imagined 
she would leave her house like this, to travel so far away. And into 
such an unknown future.

How strange it was, she thought. How only a few weeks ago she was 
sitting in the rose arbor with Alex, promising to see Dr. Kenner. And 
now she was on the way to Philadelphia to have an operation. They had no 
idea what that visit would lead to.

Christy had known instantly by the frown on her family doctor’s face 
that he was not happy. Her symptoms all indicated something gravely 
wrong. She had been admitted to Sparks Memorial Hospital for tests, 
undergoing enough needle pricks and specimen samplings to last a 
lifetime. Scores of doctors had come and gone, each puzzling out their 
own conclusions. Until Dr. Nathaniel Parker had come. It was he who had 
finally arrived at a conclusion.

How aged her father looked sitting in his office that day, Christy mused 
painfully. The laugh lines around her mother’s eyes had deepened somehow 
as well. The room had been so quiet, save for the sound of a clock 
ticking on a nearby shelf. Ticking away the seconds.

"Christy, the other doctors and I…we believe you are suffering from a 
form of liver cancer, most likely caused by a tumor. That’s why you 
haven’t been able to eat and your strength has gone."

The news penetrated her mind like a shovel hitting hard soil. Her lower 
lip trembled slightly as she contemplated it. She had felt so brave 
coming into the room. Last night she had prayed for God’s peace to 
listen to his diagnosis, be it good or bad. But she didn’t feel very 
brave at that moment. She wanted to hide her face in her mother’s skirt 
like a frightened child.

Shaken, her mother fumbled for her handkerchief, trying valiantly to 
remain calm and in control of her emotions. "Did you say…cancer, Dr. 
Parker? Are you certain?"

And as Christy sat there, slowly she felt oddly uplifted by loving 
hands, held aloft by some strange assurance that she was being cared 
for. "Is there anything we can do? Is it fatal?" her father was saying, 
his voice cracking with the effort. 

"Yes, sir. It can be.  But Christy is young…and I believe we may have 
caught it in time. If surgery is performed," Dr. Parker added. "But it’s 
a delicate surgery, experimental in nature. We’re only just beginning to 
learn how to treat such cancers. The only man I would trust to do it and 
make certain it hasn’t spread practices in Philadelphia. Dr. Ian 
McDougall and his team have saved three patients in the past year."

Saved. The word rang in Christy’s mind with finality. It meant that 
without the surgery, those patients would have died. 

Julia nodded, lifting her chin as if to face the challenge. Now that she 
knew what enemy she was fighting, she was prepared to do battle. "Then 
we’ll take her there. That’s what we’ll do."

Looking relieved, Dr. Parker took off his spectacles, rubbing them with 
his handkerchief. "Very good. I’ll phone him today and begin to make the 
arrangements. I’ve already consulted with him about it. Fortunately, 
he’s had a cancellation and can take her as soon as she can get there."

Christy, resting on the sofa, almost too weary to speak, told her, 
"Mother, Daddy’s case is almost here. It’s too late…for him to back out 
now. And you have to be with him to make sure he doesn’t overdo it."

"Christy, this is your life we’re talking about here," Julia had 
countered, taking her daughter’s hand in hers. "I won’t hear of you 
going there without us. That’s more important to me than this court 
case."

"Mrs. Huddleston, I also wish to accompany your daughter," Dr. Parker 
told her, coming from around his desk. "I want to be with her on the 
journey in case something should happen."

"Alex…he and George can take me," Christy had said. "And Mary, she can 
come. She’ll insist on it. I don’t want Daddy to miss this. They’re 
counting on him. And you can join me when it’s over."

The look on her father’s face had nearly broken her heart. "Little 
miss," he’d murmured, looking away and unable to speak. He was too 
caught up in the news to even address the trip sensibly. She had never 
seen her father so unsure of himself since his stroke.

It had taken two days for Christy to talk her parents into agreeing with 
her. She had simply convinced them that it was wiser to not argue with 
her because she no longer had the strength to do so. Fortunately, Dr. 
Parker had prescribed some medication that allowed her to rest and that 
had helped a great deal. It was one of the rare times she had ever won a 
victory over her mother’s wishes. Her mother would travel by train in 
two day’s time and her father when the trial ended.

Alex had agreed to the plan at once, as had Mary and George. Christy was 
relieved that her friends would be with her on this lonely journey to a 
big city she had never seen. She knew that Neil had done his medical 
training there after going to school in Scotland. How ironic it was that 
she was to be travelling there in hopes of saving her life.

Alex had been her knight in shining armor over the last few days, and 
Mary her guardian angel. Together they had kept her company, lifted her 
spirits, and performed what little tasks she needed done. One thing she 
had not enjoyed doing was having Alex call David to explain her absence 
at the mission. School was supposed to start in a few weeks. 

"Christy, they need to know why you’re not coming back," Alex had 
insisted, sitting beside her hospital bed. "They should know that you’ll 
be in the hospital. It’s only fair that your friends have this news…so 
they can pray for you."

Closing her eyes, Christy thought of "her" children. She was so glad 
mother had asked David to have them send pictures to her. She treasured 
each one like a fine work of art.  "You’ve got to make my family keep 
quiet, Alex.  I…I can’t worry them the Cove with this. Miss Alice and 
Neil just lost Margaret. They’re in mourning. And the children…they have 
to start school again. It’s not fair to hold them back."

Taking her hand, Alex absently rubbed her fingers. "But Christy…you may 
have to leave Cutter Gap…for good. I hate to bring it up but have you 
allowed yourself to think of that?"

"I can’t think of that," she had softly answered. "I won’t allow that 
possibility. I trust Dr. Parker. And I trust Dr. McDougall. He even 
wrote to me, reassuring me. God is going to see me through this, Alex. 
Even if it means facing death."

The one thing Christy would not do is have Neil told that she was ill. 
It was the very last thing she wanted to do in light of what he endured. 
But that didn’t stop her from longing for him, to feel his large, strong 
hand with the red-gold hairs on it to take hers. To hear his low brogue, 
telling her everything was going to be all right. To share her fears 
with her dearest friend. But she would not do that to him.

Watching her from his chair, Alex had felt his heart constricting for 
want of expressing his anger. Why did one so kind, so sacrificing, so 
loving as Christy have to suffer like this? And be cut off from the 
children and friends she loved so deeply? He wanted more than anything 
to tell them the truth, to explain everything to the doctor she loved 
and he had never met. But he had sworn to do as she asked. And he would 
not break his promise.

George and Mary helped her settle into the car, bundling her up against 
the rain. She took cold so easily these days, even in the depths of 
summer. Dr. Parker was meeting them at the station. Alex turned and 
winked at her, trying to lift her spirits. "All set to go on your 
adventure?"

Nodding, Christy smiled at him. She felt George put his arm around her 
and she looked up at her younger brother. Somehow, while she had been 
away in Cutter Gap, he had become a man. Where had the time gone? Would 
she get to see him go to college? Find a wife? Have children? The 
questions bombarded her even now. It was too painful to think about.

 "As ready as I’ll ever be, Alex," she told him.

^^^^^

"Are we almost there?" 

The conductor turned to the redheaded gentleman and nodded. The doctor 
had been fidgeting the entire journey. "We’ll be pulling into the 
station in about ten minutes, sir. The rain’s delayed us a little but 
we’ll make up the time well enough. Here’s the morning paper, if you 
like."

Taking it from him, Neil nodded and sat back in his seat. The fact that 
he had to pass through Asheville on his way to Philadelphia still 
rankled. His heart felt as if two forces were playing tug of war with 
it and the effort wearied him. When he had imagined Christy laying ill 
in some Asheville hospital, every part of him had cried out in agony.

His attempts to find out the true nature of Christy’s absence had been 
fruitless. His call to the Huddleston home had been answered her 
brother  George, who told him that Miss Christy was away from home and 
her return uncertain. Nothing about a hospital. He’d even tried calling 
the young  lawyer David had mentioned only to be told that Mr. Remington 
was leaving to go out of town and could not be reached. It infuriated 
and puzzled him as nothing else.

Perhaps Rose was wrong, he thought. She’s probably just missing the 
children. And that’s natural. And for all I know she and her lawyer 
friend ran off to get married! The thought of it had haunted him until 
he could not rest any longer. To think of her with another man was well 
nigh unbearable.

Sitting alone before the fire, he had unfolded her sketches to once 
again trace the beauty created by her delicate hand. They were so 
lovingly done, as if she had sketched him unawares. Surely they meant 
something, he pondered. But She hadn’t sent him any more. In fact, she 
hadn’t even replied to his last two letters. Why was she silent? 

To his relief, Neil had received a letter from an old colleague in 
Philadelphia just yesterday, urging him to visit. There were so many new 
techniques and surgeries taking place these days. Eye research was 
entering a new phase of success. Ian wanted Neil to come visit to see it 
first-hand. Weary from the run around he was getting in Asheville, Neil 
had wired MacDougall to tell him he was on his way for a brief visit. On 
his way home, he intended on stopping in Asheville to find out for 
himself what had happened to Christy. Once and for all.

The stiff white collar against his throat was a novel feeling. He’d 
last put it on for the wedding of David’s sister Ida to Clarence 
Sweetwater. What a day that had been. He’d come late to find with 
pleasure that Christy was standing to the side, a vacant spot next to 
her. How natural it had seemed to stand beside her, to know she was 
there with him. Dressed in a beautiful summer gown, her hair arranged on 
top of her elegant head, Christy had outshone the bride in Neil’s eyes. 
Her blue eyes had matched the flowers in her small hands, making them 
look dark and full of secrets.

He shook off the memory, wishing the train could roll straight through 
the Asheville station and on to Philadelphia. They were only stopping to 
pick up a few passengers so he would not be getting off. Still, Neil had 
no desire to remain in the city any longer than he had to.

As the train slowed for its approach to the station, Neil glanced over 
the top of the newspaper. It appeared that the bustling town had gotten 
it’s own drenching over the last few days. Passengers on the platform 
clutched umbrellas and raincoats as the efficient porters organized the 
baggage for loading. 

The conductor’s quick step could be heard in the train compartment 
ahead of him, the first class section that had a lounge in it. Neil 
grinned at the thought of the elegant socialites who preferred to travel 
apart from the humble masses. His suit might be a few years old but it 
was clean and pressed, thanks to Rose. 

He went back to reading the paper as the passengers boarded. The train 
was just pulling out of the station when he saw a young man enter the 
compartment, his blue eyes bright with activity. He was carrying his 
coat, a lady's shawl, and his cap. Glancing toward Neil, he saw the 
newspaper he carried and asked,  "Excuse me, sir, but did the Gadston 
Gadflies win their game last night?"

Baseball, Neil thought with irony. The young reverend’s favorite game. 
It seemed all of America was caught up in the sport. He had to admit he 
had a grudging appreciation for it himself now. "Let me take a look and 
see, lad. I don’t often read the newspaper."

Leaning against the top of the seat in front of him, George nodded. "I 
only read the sports when my father’s finished. Thanks a heap."

A dark-haired man entered then from the first class compartment, taking 
off his hat and coat. "George, are you pestering this poor man about the 
game?" he asked in a bantering tone of voice. "I would have brought you 
the paper from my house if I’d known you were so curious."

Neil looked up and saw the boy’s companion, a tall man dressed 
conservatively but not in an extravagant fashion. Most unlike the usual 
first class passengers he imagined. "Nay, I don’t mind helpin’ the lad, 
sir. Even if he is askin’ about last night’s losing team. Sorry, it was 
10-2."

"Aw rats!" George exclaimed, wrinkling up his nose in disgust as he 
took the bad news. "I had a bet riding on that game!"

"That’s what I keep telling him," the man said, grinning. "George, did 
you get all the trunks secured? Mary was so busy helping your sister get 
comfortable that she wanted me to make certain. I’m afraid the ride here 
has worn her out completely."

The amusement on the young man’s face faded as he turned to his friend. 
"Alex, I saw to it myself. Everything’s safe and sound. Is she alright?"

"Trying to be brave and deny she’s weak as a kitten," Alex commented 
dryly, folding his coat over his arm. "Come join us when you can. And 
bring her shawl, will you? I’m going to find Dr. Parker and fetch her 
some water."

Neil’s brow furrowed with curiosity as the man, Alex, made his way down 
the aisle to exit the compartment. He hadn’t paid attention to the 
activity going on earlier."Where are ye bound for, young man? Is someone 
ill?"

Clutching his cap, George nodded. "Yes, it’s my older sister. We’re 
headed for Philadelphia so she can have an operation.  Normally, we’d 
be sitting in here but Alex wanted her to be as comfortable as possible 
so she can to withstand the trip."

"Your friend," Neil slowly said, feeling a chill of recognition on his 
neck. "He mentioned a Dr. Parker. Is that Nathaniel Parker of Sparks 
Memorial Hospital here in Asheville."

Nodding, George affirmed it. "He’s the one who recommended we go to 
Philadelphia. Oh gosh, I’d better get back. I’ll get out of your hair 
now. And thanks for giving me the score!"

As George turned to go, the shawl slid out of his grasp and to puddle 
at Neil's feet. "I'm such a klutz," George murmured. "Sorry about that. 
I'm always dropping stuff."

Reaching down, Neil deftly picked up the small but sweet-smelling 
wrap.The aroma of lavendar talc met his senses, triggering a sudden 
memory.That soft, delicate fragrance. Oh dear God, he thought. It 
couldn't be true.

George took the shawl from his trembling hands, not noticing his shock. 
"Thanks again, friend."

As if propelled by a cannon, Neil bolted up from his seat. 
George…Alex…the names were ringing like alarm bells in his head, so loud 
he could hardly think. And the shawl...HER shawl! It all made perfect 
sense to him now. How could he have missed it? Why had he not even 
considered it until now? How blind could he be?

"Young man," Neil managed to call out. "What’s your name?"

Turning around swiftly as he opened the compartment door, the tall lanky 
boy with dark blue eyes so like Christy’s replied, "George. I’m George 
Huddleston."


Summary: Alex reveals the truth to Neil.


Chapter 9

Leaning back against the plush cushions propped behind her back, Christy 
admired the fringed curtains that hung on the compartment windows.  She 
had rarely traveled amid such luxury before. It pained her to think of 
what it was costing her father. She had already caused him such an 
expense with doctors and hospital care. 

"Christy, Alex is taking care of this," Mary’s soothing voice spoke, 
reading her mind like an Indian fakir. "So put your mind at ease. He 
wouldn’t have it any other way."

No, he wouldn’t, she thought gratefully. That was Alex.  "He’s my rock 
of Gibraltar," she softly murmured. "And you’re my guardian angel, Mary. 
Thank you for coming. I’m so glad…you and Alex are here. And that you’re 
together."

Blushing nearly the color of the crimson curtains, Mary responded, "We 
wouldn’t be anywhere else, Christy. You’ve both brought so much joy to 
our lives. And Alex…well, I never thought I’d see Alex Remington smiling 
again. You did that."

"You did, too," Christy protested with a laugh, feeling the familiar 
fatigue pulling at her. "Whether he knew it or not, I think Alex always 
carried a torch for you. I merely made sure that it got re-lit and found 
its way back to the source of the flame."

Dr. Parker returned then, his eyes missing nothing as he took in the 
condition of his patient. She’s so young, he thought bitterly. Why did 
such things have to strike the young and strong? "I think you could use 
some rest while we travel, Christy. Do you mind taking these pills?"

Turning to face him, Christy realized she had quickly come to admire and 
trust the world-weary doctor that sat beside her now. He had a way of 
making the situation easier, causing her to take things a step at a 
time. "But we’re hardly underway, Dr. Parker," she murmured, looking 
down at the capsules he held. "Mary will think me a terrible travelling 
companion if I doze off into the pillows like a baby."

"You hardly slept at all last night," Mary reminded her. "So don’t mind 
me. You need to rest, dear. We’ll all be right here when you awaken."

Reluctantly, Christy took the offered pills and swallowed the water 
thankfully. She hated having to take pills of any kind but she was worn 
out. Last night her mind had been full of Cutter Gap. Of the children 
playing tag in the meadow, laughing and shouting. As a result, sleep had 
eluded her almost completely.

Having made certain Dr. Parker had given Christy something to help her 
to sleep, Alex went outside to get some fresh air. It took something out 
of him to see Christy so ill, to know that she might be dying. He needed 
to talk to God again, to offer her up in prayer.

But as he opened the door to the compartment, he stood face to face with 
the stranger who had given George the score of the baseball games. The 
look of utter shock and desperation that now possessed his chiseled 
profile alerted Alex to the fact that something was very wrong.

"Sir, are you unwell?" Alex asked, noticing how the man’s hands were 
trembling. "Let me fetch the doctor for you."

Shaking his head almost violently, the man muttered, "I AM a doctor, 
sir. Nay, I’m…I’m fine. I must needs speak wi’ ye. That young man told 
me his name is George Huddleston. My name is Neil MacNeill. I’m the 
doctor in Cutter Gap…the place where his sister teaches school."

Alex felt all the oxygen leaving his chest like a balloon losing air. 
Dear God, he thought. This was the man Christy had talked about.  He 
ought to have guessed from the Scottish brogue and the wildly curling 
hair that it was the same man. But to find him sitting on the very same 
train that was taking them all to Philadelphia was almost too much to 
believe. Such coincidences simply didn’t happen. Then again…

"God works in mysterious ways," Mary had been telling him that morning 
over luncheon in the Huddleston kitchen. "You never know what miracles 
he can render. Especially when we least expect it, Alex. That’s when 
they happen."

Now one was standing not twelve inches in front of him in the shape of a 
barrel chested, hazel-eyed doctor. .And he looked so agitated that he 
could tear the train apart piece by piece until he found what he was 
searching for.

"Dr. MacNeill," Alex finally said, awareness dawning on his handsome 
face as he extended the heartfelt hand of friendship. "This is the last 
place I expected us to meet but may I tell you I’m darned glad to see 
you."

Thirty minutes later, Alex and Neil were ensconced in the conductor’s 
office. It was a rather cramped place for two men so tall and brawny to 
talk but at the moment it would have to do.

"I can hardly believe what ye’re tellin’ me, man," Neil slowly said, his 
face pale white. "You mean to tell me tha’ she knew this…and never meant 
anyone in the Cove t’ know?"

"Sadly it’s true," Alex admitted, now very aware of how deeply the 
mountain doctor cared for his young friend. It was evident in every 
word, every expression. They had both suffered unknown agony at the 
separation circumstances had placed upon them. Anyone looking at either 
one could have seen it.

"I can’t understand it," Neil said, shaking his head back and forth, his 
eyes pooling with tears. "She…she never said a word of it in her letters 
to me. It only worried me when she didn’t answer my last two notes. Then 
again, I never did understand why she felt she had to go home in the 
first place. There were so many things unsaid, only glimpses of why or 
how. One minute she was there. The next she was gone."

Sitting back on the simple chair, Alex let out his breath slowly. How he 
hated to have to be the one to tell the man what he had to know. But the 
truth had been held from him for too long. It was time for the pretense 
to end. For the sanity of both Christy and Neil. Who knew what the next 
days would hold?

As if reading his mind, Neil looked up at Alex. He had only known the 
man for a few minutes but he sensed the Godly nature in him. Alex had 
gone to great lengths to ensure Christy was comfortable and well taken 
care of.  Alex had been her friend when he couldn’t be.  That was a 
comfort in light of the terrible awareness of her illness. 

But it also left lingering questions behind. How far did that concern 
reach? Were there promises made, arrangements planned that he knew 
nothing about? Neil had to know where he stood.

"Do you love her?" Neil quietly asked, his eyes still damp. "I have to 
know that. Does she love you?"

Alex heard the emotion behind the words and sensed the price Neil had 
paid in asking the question. He chose his words thoughtfully.

 "I love Christy as a younger sister and a good friend, Neil. She’s 
always been there for me. And since my return, I’ve tried to do the same 
for her. The woman who is with her now, Mary, is the woman I’m growing 
to love. Christy knows that. She never had any inclination to love any 
man in Asheville. Because she’s only had room in her heart for you."

The words lingered in the air like the end of a sweet, sad aria. Echoing 
through Neil’s ears down into his heart until they broke over him in 
waves.  He had wondered for so long. Then accepted his defeat that 
Christy could not love him, could not allow herself to love a married 
man who had gone back to his wife. "She loves me?" he echoed in 
disbelief.

"Yes, you," Alex repeated, aware of the action he had just taken. "I 
know she’d tie me up and haul me upside the nearest flagpole if she knew 
I’d told you. But you’re both so darn stubborn that I had to. She needs 
you, Neil. Whether or not you love her, Christy needs you with her right 
now. You can’t know what it was like for her to give up the children to 
come home. To leave them behind to make it easier for everyone."

Still stunned by his words, Neil asked, "Why did she do it? Why?"

"Because she couldn’t bear to see you with Margaret," Alex admitted, his 
gray eyes sincere. "She wanted you to have the chance to heal your 
marriage. To try again.  And to allow Alice to get reacquainted with her 
daughter again without being in the way."

The knowledge of the sacrifice Christy had made on his behalf flooded 
Neil’s heart with remorse. She’d given up everything she loved, he 
realized now. She’d quietly slipped away so he could follow through with 
his plans. And to let Alice had some peace. Poor, poor, lass he thought. 
No wonder she was weeping all over Fairlight that day. She had no wish 
to go home. Cutter Gap WAS her home!

"I love her more than my own life," Neil murmured, his eyes closing 
briefly at the reality of the moment. "I always have. But I couldn’t 
allow it. Not with m’ promise to God to stand by Margaret.  I had no 
idea…tha’ Christy loved me. Or I would ha’ gone to her and told her. To 
at least let her know tha’ returning to Margaret was not my ideal 
choice. No, never!"

"She wanted you both to be happy," Alex told him quietly. "And if that 
meant leaving the Cove, she meant to do it. She never meant for you to 
know she loved you, even after Margaret died."

Neil felt as if his whole world had been dumped upside down. The weight 
of all this was nearly too much to bear. Christy loved him! He hadn’t 
been imagining it. She truly did! And she had, like him, chosen the 
narrow path to find God’s way. She had selflessly removed herself from 
the situation so Margaret could die in peace. And so Alice could make 
amends with her daughter. 

But now Christy herself was gravely ill. The two items warred in his 
mind, neither claiming victory. How could someone so sweet, so 
unselfish, be suffering so greatly?

"You both did everything you could to be true to God and to everyone 
else," Alex reminded him gently. "Don’t you think it’s time to grab hold 
of what He’s offering you now? She needs you, Neil. Tell her what’s on 
your heart. She’ll be awake after while. And you should be there when 
she does."

In her dreams, the sweet mountain air surrounded Christy like a 
welcoming embrace. To be back in the mountains, her mountains, again. It 
felt so good to escape, to get away from the doctors, the shots, the 
tests…

"May I have the pleasure of this dance, ma’am?" a voice asked in a 
mock-hillbilly accent.

Dropping a low curtsey, Christy smiled and offered the handsome 
red-headed man her small hand. He kissed it gallantly before sweeping 
her into a magical waltz. The feel of his strong hand at her back, 
guiding her, was warm and capable. It knew what to do. 

She could hear music coming from a Victrola, the crackle of it blending 
in with the sound of the crickets from the woods. It was light and 
happy, lifting her feet.

The children…they were playing in the meadow while they danced, enjoying 
the show of their teacher and the doctor dancing. Grown ups were plumb 
crazy sometimes, they thought.

Then someone was tugging on Neil’s sleeve, needed help. "Doc, come 
quick! Bird’s Eye Taylor’s shot my son fer cuttin’ a tree down on his 
land. You gotta holp us!"

"Christy, I have to go," Neil said, a lingering regret in his eyes as he 
was pulled away. Disappointed, Christy sat down on a nearby bench. 
Somehow, no matter what she did, she could never get a full dance from 
the doctor.

"We all have to die, Christy," Margaret was saying. How odd that she was 
sitting right beside her on the bench. "And now’s as good a time as any. 
After all, you aren’t going to Heaven."

"Margaret, what are you saying?" Christy asked, her eyes filling with 
tears and shock.

"You loved a married man," the woman said, a benign smile on her 
beautiful face. "Don’t you know that God doesn’t like that? I wanted to 
get to know you better once you were here. That’s too bad. We could have 
been friends."

Dan Scott was standing on the other side of her, looking angry. "These 
people ain’t never gonna accept coloreds, Miss Christy. Why did you drag 
me down here? Why couldn’t you leave me and Cecile alone? They won’t 
accept her as a teacher!"

Mountie O’Teale was playing at her feet, the buttons falling off of her 
tattered coat. "Couldn’t fix ‘em , teacher," she was muttering. "You 
done left us all."

It seemed that by the second she was being surrounded by more people, 
each with an accusation and a complaint. Their voices got louder and she 
grew dizzy with trying to keep up with them all. Somehow she slipped off 
of her seat, flailing her arms to keep herself from falling, falling 
into space. She let out a helpless scream but nothing came out.

"Christy, love, don’t struggle so," a low, tender voice urged. "Rest 
now, and lie still. That’s a good girl."

That voice. She knew it like the music of the wind whispering through 
pine trees. Two strong arms were holding her close, cradling her against 
a firm chest that was covered in flannel. Soft, warm, flannel that 
caressed her cheek. 

A sweet, familiar aroma met Christy’s nose as she began to awaken. It 
was a fresh, mountain smell. A hint of pine. And something else, 
masculine and real. Something painfully dear that she had shoved away 
months ago as being off-limits.

Only one person carried that scent. Only one man. She kept her eyes 
shut, wanting to hold onto the dream that had enveloped her like a 
thick, dense fog. Only in dreams was Neil there for her now. She 
couldn’t give him up to being awake. Not now. Not when she needed him 
more than ever. 

"Christy, wake up, little lass," the voice pleaded. "It’s no’ a dream. 
You’re safe, I promise you."

She opened her eyes then, unable to resist the voice that her heart knew 
and clung to for life. Hazel eyes, those dear eyes she knew better than 
her own were looking down at her with a singular expression that stole 
breath from her with its emotion. How tired he looked. How she longed to 
wipe the weariness from that face! 

This wasn’t a dream, she realized. Neil was real! "Neil," she whispered. 
"Oh no…."

His strong finger was at her lips, halting her words. "Don’t speak, 
little one. Just lie still. I know this is a shock. But I’m real. And 
I’m not going anywhere."

His lips were blessing her forehead with a sweet, light kiss that melted 
the ice that had grown around her heart for so long. She felt the flood 
of tears filling her eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t 
supposed to know! Why was he here?

"Alex told you," she realized aloud. "I’ll…"

"Nay, don’t say that," Neil murmured, his fingers stroking her cheek in 
that way. The way he had when she’d told him David had been frequenting 
the teahouse in El Pano. "He wants you to be happy, Christy. And he 
didn’t send for me. I happened to be on the train when I bumped into 
then met George. God’s sense of timing was painfully on schedule today."

Slowly Christy realized then that they were indeed still on the train. A 
curtain separated their small section from the other seats of the car. 
Night had fallen and the other passengers had made themselves 
comfortable in their seats or were up front eating a light meal. An oil 
lamp was turned down low so that she could see Neil’s face in the 
semi-darkness, his unruly  curls falling over his large, square 
forehead. 

"He told me everything, Christy," he went on, hardly believing he was 
holding her like this. He’d been waiting for the last three hours, 
simply watching her sleep. That simple act had been trying in itself. 
Then she’d started to cry out in her sleep, suffering from a nightmare. 
Now her tiny form felt so insubstantial, as if she might slip out of his 
arms with a single breath.

"You weren’t supposed to know," she murmured, her cheek against his 
chest again. The steady, even beat of his heart was strong and rapid. 
Matching the own heavy drumming of her own.  It gave her a strength she 
did not want to let go of. "I thought…I thought I’d covered my tracks."

"Almost, Miss Huddleston," Neil softly corrected, stroking her hair with 
so tender a caress that he feared she might break. "But not quite. I 
just happened to be on my way to Philadelphia to see my old friend, Ian 
Macdougall. The man who is performing your surgery. He’s a good man, 
Christy. Ye have little to fear wi’ him."

"He’s a good man," Christy agreed, drinking in the feel of his muscled 
arms holding her so close. How long had it been since she had felt so 
safe? She couldn’t yet allow herself to truly believe he was real. This 
man who had haunted her dreams at night. "But Neil…I don’t want you to 
feel obligated to me."

His swift words halted her own as swiftly as a sword slides through 
silk, urgent and sure of itself. They were low and held that no-nonsense 
tone. "I’m not leaving ye, Christy, even if ye try to push me aside, I 
canna go. Not now," he paused, dropping another kiss on her soft hair. 
"Not ever."

"But Neil," she protested softly, feeling the tears threaten again. "You 
can’t."

Gently, so gently, he pulled back from her so that she was looking up 
into his face again. He was almost wild, she thought, the urgency vivid 
in every line of his dear face. Catching her hand up in his, he slowly, 
unhurriedly kissed each finger until she felt his mouth nearly burn into 
her skin.

"Can’t what, Miss Huddleston? Can’t love you?" he asked in a near 
whisper, so low that she almost missed it. "Can’t wish t’ watch over ye 
and keep ye from harm? I’m afraid, my bonnie lassie, my beloved Christy, 
that even you, with all your spit and vinegar, can’t stop me from loving 
you."

His words froze her to the quick, halting time and space until it 
narrowed into the color, the flare of his hazel eyes. She sought the 
answer there, the certainty that her soul craved to be sure. Neil saw it 
and cursed himself inwardly. She hadn’t known. All this time she hadn’t 
known he loved her.

"But Margaret…" she began tremulously, still afraid that she had to push 
him away. 

"Margaret is gone," Neil spoke deliberately but with a touch of 
reverence for her memory. "She was my wife. And I loved her in my way. 
But life is not mean to be lived with the dead. Nor is love blessed by 
God meant to be confined and hidden."

He paused, seeing the twin trails of tears that were spilling onto her 
thin, thin cheeks. He would give his life to see her smile again, to be 
certain of her future. With tenderness, he kissed them both and leaned 
his forehead against her so that his mouth nearly touched hers.

"Neither one of us knows what the future holds, Christy," he murmured, 
his sweet breath mingling with hers. "I only know that we both did our 
best to honor God’s word and that somehow he’s brought us together. For 
better or for worse, in sickness and in health. Do you love me, lass? 
Tell me now!

He saw the answer in her eyes before the word, the single word, fell 
from her lips and into his open heart. The tender light of love was 
shining there, telling him exactly what he needed to know, what his soul 
had sought from her for so long now. She was free to say what she had 
known in her heart now for months.

"Yes!"

And then love’s first, true kiss was sealed as Neil’s mouth met hers, 
tenderly, strongly as he gathered her closer still. They didn’t care who 
saw or who talked. At last every emotion could be let free, every 
yearning secret confessed. The narrow path had been a difficult one to 
walk. It had not been without sacrifice. They could not yet see around 
the difficult bends in the road ahead. But now they were on that path 
together.

Unable to resist, two pairs of eyes watched across the dimly lit aisle. 
Alex took Mary’s hand in his while he wiped his eyes with his 
handkerchief.

"You see, Alex" Mary murmured with happiness. "God truly is still in the 
miracle business." 

Chapter 10
Summary: Christy prepares for surgery and shares her feelings with Neil.
Chapter 10

In the quiet of evening, an atmosphere of quiet expectation hovered over 
the large Philadelphia townhouse on Walnut Street. Usually it was the 
residence of the Sanford family, long-time friends of Alex. But they 
were doing their grand tour of Europe that autumn and had quickly 
offered their home to Alex and his friends. They had always been swift 
to give him any assistance or hospitality he needed.

Julia and William Huddleston were scheduled to arrive tomorrow from 
Asheville. After waging war with his conscience, William had turned over 
his duties to a partner and packed his bags. He would not sit in 
Asheville while his little miss was facing such an uncertain future. 
Julia had not protested his decision, eager herself to see her daughter 
before her surgery.

The house had plenty of room for everyone, including Neil. The mountain 
doctor had hesitated at accepting Alex’s offer at first, not being 
acquainted with his absent hosts. But Alex had a way of talking a person 
into just about anything and Neil’s resistance had eventually faded.

"What good is it if you’re running between here and a hotel and the 
hospital?" Alex had asked him, with his usual aplomb for getting right 
to the point. "Christy will just worry about you and the expense. I’m 
sure you’ve noticed that she doesn’t miss a thing. So you can just stop 
thinking you’re going elsewhere."

Neil had occasionally been invited to the home of fellow doctors and 
professors during his residency in the city. But few had been this 
large, this tastefully appointed. At the same time, he gathered that the 
Sanfords were not showy people and he was glad of it. There was 
something about such houses that made him feel as if he were sitting in 
a museum.

Ian had never been that way either, he had mused. He was a man of the 
earth, a transplanted Scot from Stirling who had studied in Glasgow with 
him. Ian had "hopped the Pond" not long after Neil had and they had 
maintained a warm friendship over the years. 

Three days ago Neil had spoken with his friend and peer about Christy’s 
condition. With his usual method of speaking in a frank, no-nonsense 
way, Ian had told him what he knew. He was almost certain there was a 
tumor, that is was in the early stages and that her liver had not been 
fully compromised at this point. She didn’t have the jaundice that so 
many liver cancer victims suffered from. 

"She’s young and she’s very brave," Ian commented, taking off his 
glasses tiredly as he stood up from his desk. "From what little I’ve 
seen of her, I can see why she’s captured your heart."

Neil neck burned red with surprise but not from shame. He had not 
thought himself so very transparent. But he found that when it came to 
Christy, his emotions hovered so near the surface that it was difficult 
to contain them. After so many months of keeping them hidden, it felt 
natural to express them openly.

"I’d give my heart, my soul to see her through this safely, Ian," he 
finally remarked. "She means everything t’me. Hard as that must seem to 
ye."

"Not really," Ian answered candidly, sitting on the edge of the desk 
with his arms folded over his chest. "It’s a welcome change, Neil. And 
I’m happy to see it. I fear…I never wished to speak ill of…of Margaret."

"I know ye never approved," Neil quietly remarked, knowing the truth. 
"And I thank ye for stayin’ my friend. Christy…well, she’s got 
Margaret’s fire. But it’s a different kind. And she…well, we share a 
love of God that Margaret and I never would have had."

Ian gave one of his rare smiles and toyed with the ends of his thick 
moustache. "Who else would keep a big lug like you out of trouble in 
this great city? Nay, ye came out right enough, Neil. Right enough. 
That’s what matters th’ most."

Tonight, Christy had enjoyed a lively dinner with Neil, Alex, George, 
and Mary. She knew they had gone out of their way to be cheerful and 
lighthearted, to keep her mind off what was to come tomorrow. When she 
was prepared for surgery and her life changed forever.

Neil had insisted on her retiring early so that she got her proper rest, 
carrying her upstairs himself. It was a task he lived to perform, 
despite her weak protests. Navigating stairs was no longer a simple task 
and having Neil’s strong arms to support her was a blessing. He had made 
certain in the last days that she ate nourishing soups and slept often. 
It had improved her health and she felt a little stronger than she had 
in some time.

Moonlight bathed Christy’s face as she awoke with a start. It was 
casting a spectral air over the beautifully appointed bedroom, gliding 
through onto the carpet. The house was so quiet, almost like a tomb.

Funny how moonlight can look different in other places, she thought, 
rising up from the pillows. Tonight it was an evening sentinel, sending 
out a protective cover over those who sought her care. 

The small clock on the bedside table told her it was past midnight. 
Everyone had gone to bed. She felt oddly restless, unable to remain 
where she was. For once, Christy did not feel fatigued or out of breath. 
Staying in her bed was not what she wished to do.

"Neil will yell like a banshee if he finds me doing this," Christy 
thought some moments later as she carefully made her way down the lower 
hall. Getting down the stairs hadn’t been so hard. She had clung to the 
banister and taken her time. The garden behind the house was beckoning 
to her and she longed to sit under the moonlight to collect her 
thoughts. Bundled into her heaviest robe and thickets slippers, she had 
set out to do so.

Christy found the back garden door and let herself out, grateful that 
the lock wasn’t a heavy one. Still, by the time she reached the swing 
that Richard Sanford had hung from the strong branch of the central oak 
for his wife, she was worn out.

All was quiet as she leaned her forehead against the rope holding up the 
simple swing. Richard Sanford had not always lived in the city. He had 
grown up on a West Virginia farm before coal had been found on the 
property. He enjoyed his country roots as did his wife. It made Christy 
feel somehow as if she were back on the porch of the Mission House, 
listening to the crickets or the hoot of an owl.

She wasn’t likely to hear that in the city, she thought to herself. 
Philadelphia was indeed a large place, overflowing with life and 
activity. But this beautiful garden spot that Eileen Sandford and her 
children had created was a little haven from the urban landscape.

Closing her eyes briefly, Christy held onto the rope lightly. She had so 
many thoughts running through her mind. Like glass beads spilled onto a 
smooth, polished floor. Every time she reached after one another flew 
by. It was becoming too difficult to catch them all.

Her surgery, odd as it seemed, was not uppermost in her mind. It was her 
mother. Tomorrow she and her father would be arriving. There were going 
to be questions asked that she could not answer. A situation to explain. 
How was she going to tell them that Neil was staying and that he loved 
her? What would they say?

Did her mother still secretly hope she would love Alex? No, that wasn’t 
the case. Julia had come to see Alex’s growing affection for Mary Glynn 
as genuine. But Christy knew her mother well enough to know that her 
ideal choice of a husband for her daughter was not likely to be Neil 
MacNeil. That troubled her.

Looking up at the full moon cloaked in chiffon-like layers of clouds, 
edged with purple, Christy thought about Neil. She loved him and that 
wasn’t going to change. And now she knew that he loved her. But Christy 
didn’t know if she had the strength to fight her mother. She had so 
little left. Would her mother accept Neil?

That her health was a burden also gave her pause to think. Neil had 
sworn to stand by her no matter what happened. That was so like him, to 
be strong and confident in their future. But was it fair to ask that of 
him, she thought. The surgery might fail. She might linger on a sick bed 
for some time. Had she the right to put him through such a trial yet 
again. It didn’t seem right. It simply did not.

The smell of autumn was just beginning to come in the air, she thought. 
The children would be returning to school soon and Cecile would be 
teaching them. She would be good at it, she thought. And they have been 
drawing closer to her all summer.

A wave of longing for the children hit her like a wave of ocean water, 
causing a physical ache in her chest. Would they remember her when she 
came back? Would it matter if she did?

"You may not even be coming back," she thought, closing her eyes in 
realization. It was difficult to face her own mortality. It was 
something she had not grappled with before. She had always trusted God 
with her life before and He had always steered her onto the right road. 
But now…there were so many unknowns.

A rustling noise caused her to look up. She’d been lost in her thoughts, 
totally unaware of anything else. In the shadows of the house, she saw a 
familiar, beloved figure. His tousled red curls were in need of a comb, 
as usual. He was watching her closely, concern written in his handsome 
face. It had become a familiar sight of late.

Neil wanted to be angry with her but he couldn't be. Not tonight. Sleep 
had eluded him as well. When he had looked down from his bedroom window 
to find her sitting in the garden, his heart had been in his throat. She 
had looked so utterly alone. He'd dressed at once and come downstairs to 
see if she was alright. 

"Ye ought to be countin’ sheep, not stars, wee one," he finally said as 
he emerged into the moonlight to join her. "Tomorrow is quite a big day, 
little one."

He was wearing his mountain clothes now, a flannel shirt, corduroy 
trousers and boots. She was glad he had discarded his stiff shirt and 
tie from earlier, feeling as if they truly were back in the cove. "I 
couldn’t sleep," she admitted. "And the moon…well, she’s good company."

Neil sat down beside her on the swing and their hands met, clasped into 
one. It seemed such a natural thing to do, Christy thought. And yet, how 
long had this been forbidden them? It was taking some getting used to.

Neil’s hand was large and strong as it enclosed her small fingers. Just 
feeling the capable strength of his grasp instantly made her feel less 
frightened. A sigh of relief escaped her unexpectedly and she flushed in 
the darkness.

The sound of it seemed to please Neil. She could almost feel his grin 
rather than see it. "That was from deep down, Christy. Why don’t ye tell 
me what’s goin’ on inside that head o’ yours now?"

She replied quietly, "So many things. But that’ s not so unusual. You 
know me too well to doubt it."

But he wasn’t going to be put off by her attempts to evade him tonight. 
"Christy, let’s speak plain. We always have in the past. You’re in a 
delicate state. I won’t have ye worryin’ your head about all o’ this. 
Tis’ too much for ye. And is it helpin’ anything to keep it all inside?"

Christy did not speak. Her emotions were rising to the surface under his 
tender questioning, bubbling there. He didn’t need her tears or her 
problems tonight, she thought. He’s got enough on his mind.

>From her expression, Neil could see that she wasn’t yet prepared to tell 
him just yet. So he changed tactics and decided to go in another 
direction. He had questions of his own to ask.

"Christy, I could hardly bear it when ye left the Cove," Neil softly 
confessed, his voice low. "My best friend had left me. And you never 
told me why? Can ye do that now?"

She felt the remembered pain in his voice and felt something quiver deep 
inside. He had missed her as much as she had missed him. "I…I couldn’t 
stay, Neil. I admit that. Seeing you with Margaret…and then there was 
Miss Alice. Well, I just didn’t feel that my presence was helping 
matters much."

Neil quickly told her, "I didna want t’ do it, little one. But ye know I 
had to. I never loved her…not as I love you now."

She looked up at him in the moonlight, saw how its glow softened his 
features. She also heard the emotion resting beneath his words and was 
humbled by it. She stood up then, leaving him to walk a few steps 
forward.

"I didn’t want to do it," she whispered, her hand brushing a low hanging 
branch. "I hated leaving the children. I missed them. And yes…I missed 
you, too. More than you know."

She paused, thinking of her first realization of her love for him. "I 
was a fool not to know it earlier, Neil. What a little girl I must have 
seemed to you."

"Nay," he breathed, watching her slim figure silhouetted by silver, how 
it shone against her loosely bound hair. "In some ways, lass, you’ve 
always been wise beyond yer years. Ye know how to handle a room full o’ 
energetic children as few ever could. But we canna always know the 
secrets of our own heart, lass."

Neil watched as she turned to look at him, her youthful face shining in 
the pale light. He would bear many things, endure several challenges, 
but the sight of her tears was beyond his limit. "Christy, what is it?" 
he asked, standing up to move toward her.

That’s when he saw she was trembling. At once, his large, capable hands 
fell gently on her shoulders. She gave a little sob as he did so, the 
words tumbling out.

"Neil," she whispered, her voice edged with soft agony. "I love you…so 
very much…how can I do this to you? Put you through all this? My 
parents…the surgery…coming all this way. How can I ask it of you?"

So this was the burden she’d been carrying around since their arrival a 
few days ago, Neil realized. He’d seen it hovering behind her dark blue 
eyes every now and again when she didn’t see him watching her. She’d be 
resting on the sofa or sitting at the window seat while Alex played the 
piano or Mary read aloud to them. Neil found his eyes following her, 
like a drowning man seeking a life preserver.

She hated to burden anyone, to put anyone through discomfort or trouble. 
Always looking out for someone else rather than herself. 

Then and there Neil took her into his arms, drawing her close against 
his chest so that her body fit under his chin. She was almost rigid with 
cold, but she gradually softened as the warmth of his body invaded her. 
Did she know how much he needed her, he wondered. Being able to feel her 
in his arms was like coming home. Neil didn't think he could ever give 
that up. He was afraid of losing her and it took an effort to bit that 
back when it came.

For a long, silent moment, Neil did not speak or move. He wanted her to 
know beyond words that she was loved, that all he had was hers…his body, 
soul, and life. She didn't need fany words but the truth.

"I won’t lie to ye, Christy," he began after some time. "I don’t know 
what is t’ come. Nobody does. I canna offer any guarantees. But what I 
do know is that I’ve loved ye too long, too much, to be stopped by 
circumstances. Even difficult ones such as these, love."

"But what about Margaret?" she asked, unable to stop herself from asking 
the question that burned against her lips. "You just watched her die. 
Neil, I can’t ask you to possibly go through that again."

"Hush now," Neil soothed, sensing the fears that had been preying upon 
her. "I happen t’ know that you’re in the best of hands. Ian MacDougal 
is not only the best but the brightest of doctors. Even if he is a 
Scotsman like me."

He let his hands stroke the softness of her braided hair, breathing in 
the lavender scent that came from it. "And ye are also in God’s hands," 
he added gently. "He held you and I both up while we were apart when we 
were so unsure of the future. I have faith, Christy, that He will make 
things right. And I know that sounds strange comin’ from me. But I 
believe that."

She seemed to relax a little then, her cheek resting on his shoulder. 
The steady rhythm of his beating heart reassured her, gave her comfort. 
He was right. God would not abandon them now. He had not done so before.

"And as for yer parents, I’ll be talkin’ to your father as soon as he 
arrives," Neil went on, taking each concern as it came. "I’ve already 
wired him that I’m here. And I do na think that William Huddleston would 
be a dense man and miss the meanin’ behind my words."

Her eyes darted quickly up and she saw the tenderness resting in his 
hazel eyes, their intensity momentarily rendering her unable to speak. 
It was a question that had rested unspoken in her heart for the last few 
days. And now he was answering it.

His rough fingers brushed her cheek with a gentle caress, so sweet that 
she felt almost dizzy beneath that touch.

"Neil," she finally said. "Are you…do you?" 

Her tongue could not fashion the words, they seemed to foreign to her to 
say aloud. She had not allowed herself that luxury, that sweet 
happiness. If the moment were not so precious, so dear, Neil might have 
laughed at Christy’s stammering. It was a very rare moment when anyone 
caught his beloved so totally off guard as he had just then.

Instead, Neil feathered a soft kiss along her forehead and murmured, 
"I’ve wanted ye to be my wife for so long, lass, that the wish has well 
night burnt a hole in my heart. Surely ye know that by now?"

"Oh Neil," she whispered. "I never let myself believe…it hurt too much 
to hope…"

Her words trailed off slowly into the silence, into the silver-edged 
shadows of night. They were like a little girl’s wish finally spoken. 
But he knew it was a woman’s heart that had held them close for quite 
some time.

Neil’s head bowed abruptly then to kiss her, to warm her mouth with his 
and communicate his longing for her, his complete devotion to her for 
life. Her lips were sweet, so soft and tender as he drew her closer 
still, unable to stop despite her delicate condition.

Losing herself in his embrace, Christy felt something awakening and 
blossoming into being inside of her. God was opening the doors for them, 
nodding his approval. Her love for Neil need not be hidden any longer. 
Now they could come out into the open, to let that love for each other 
grow and take flight. She nearly felt like a prisoner, newly released 
from her heavy bonds.

Neil sensed the eruption of emotion, of realization within her, felt his 
own matching it. A blur of thanks, worship, and utter joy swept through 
him then. This was love as it was meant to be, the kind that his parents 
had shared. That Jeb had for Fairlight. It was the kind that kept giving 
and growing, expanding over time despite the hardships life offered. It 
was the kind he had always longed for but never thought to attain. 

Until now.

At last, Neil drew back, his breath coming quickly now. The moonlight 
was shining on her beloved eyes, making them glow and sparkle like 
jewels in the darkness. She wavered a little on her feet and Neil slowly 
began to remember where they were.

"Ye make me forget ma’ own name, lass," he murmured, taking her hand to 
lead her back to the swing. "But ye must rest, Christy. I ought t’ take 
ye inside. Those steps alone must have worn ye out."

Her small hand on his firm forearm spoke volumes. "Not yet, Neil," she 
murmured. "I..I’m going to be off my feet for some days and I want to 
have these moments to keep me going. Do you mind?"

Neil didn’t argue with her. He wanted to stay exactly where he was and 
the night air was not so cool as to harm her. It was better they 
remained together rather than she be alone with her fears. He put his 
arm about her shoulders and drew her to rest against his chest as she 
curled her small legs up under her. 

"I remember a night much like this one," he quietly said. "Do you, 
Christy?"

She didn’t need much time to think over his question. "When you found me 
down by the river that night," she answered fondly. "How could I ever 
forget?"

He was absently stroking her arm, making her drowsy. "You were like 
something out of fairy land, standin’ there all alone by the water. I 
had to blink several times t’ be sure it was you."

She remembered his surprise well. "I think we were both feeling a bit 
haunted that night. I only knew that I couldn’t stand seeing the agony 
in your eyes, the confusion. I felt so helpless."

The garden was so still that at that moment, save for the sound of a 
light breeze ruffling the leaves. He was lost to the memory of that 
night and what had driven him so hard.

"Ye know I never put much stock in religion in the past," Neil finally 
said. "Of all people, ye knew that bein’ a doctor meant everything to 
me. It was my life, who I was."

She nodded, silently encouraging him to continue to speak his private 
thoughts.

"But when I saw yew by the river that night," he confessed. "It was 
like…God hearin’ my unspoken prayers. I needed a friend wi’ me that 
night, Christy. And you were there! Words didna really matter. Just that 
you listened. It had been so long since anyone had cared."

A wealth of sympathy and love welled up inside of her then and she 
snuggled deeper into his shoulder. The naked feeling behind his words 
was more than she had imagined before. Neil was sharing such a private 
part of himself with her. With David, such moments had never come. He 
had only been intent on pursuing physical enjoyment or light banter. 

"I wanted to believe in God but I had no reason to," Neil added. "Not 
until ye came. You were like a little firecracker, ye know."

Christy couldn’t resist chuckling at the mental picture Neil’s words 
conjured up and it lightened the heavy atmosphere that had fallen over 
them. "I was a little know-it-all, you don’t have to remind me," she 
assured him. "There were times when I know you wanted to throttle me. I 
often deserved it. You probably wished me gone."

Sharing her amusement, Neil smiled above her head, his own recollections 
not quite the same. "Perhaps once or twice," he admitted. "But you 
challenged me and that hadna happened for a long time. You pushed me to 
challenge my old ideas, to look beyond them. I needed a swift kick."

"Which I aptly provided," Christy recalled, her eyelids drooping 
slightly as he continued to stroke her hand lightly. He could tell she 
was growing sleepy. "I remember Fairlight asking me who made me so mad 
that my blood boiled and your name popped out."

Now it was Neil’s turn to laugh quietly. "I think she knew what was 
takin’ place between us long before we did," he remarked frankly. "She’s 
a wise woman, that. Jeb’s a lucky man."

"That’s when it began to dawn on me," Christy continued quietly. "That 
I…that I loved you."

Neil’s lips blessed her hair, knowing how difficult making such an 
admission had been for her. It had wrecked to pieces her orderly 
perception of her life in the cove. Her role as a daughter to her 
parents. Her answer to David’s proposal. Everything she was and believed 
in. 

"Ye know, I’m still waitin’ for an answer to that question," he reminded 
gently, dropping a soft kiss on her neck. "And I am eagerly awaiting a 
verbal reply, Miss Huddleston."

She turned in his arms then, the stars reflected in her eyes like silver 
flecks. She smiled up at him then in a way that a woman does only for 
the man she loves. The beauty of it caught Neil unawares. It would 
remain lodged in Neil’s heart and mind for days to come.

"I thought my…non-verbal reply was quite clear," she told him, a glimmer 
of feminine awareness in her voice.

Neil feigned shock. "Why, Miss Huddleston! Was that the cove’s proper, 
orderly school teacher who spoke such provocative words just now?"

"Aye," she breathed in imitation of his brogue and he smiled at once. 
"You make me…forget my lofty position at times, Doctor MacNeil. What 
shall I do?"

She was drawing him into knots unknowingly, Neil thought. He didn’t know 
whether to tickle her senseless or kiss her again. Both were very 
appealing options.

Then the humor slowly faded from her eyes and she lifted her hand to 
brush away a tumbled curl from his forehead, much as she had done that 
night by the river. 

"Neil, I don’t know what’s going to happen," she told him honestly. "As 
you said, there are no guarantees. But if God blesses it, then it will 
be for the best. I gladly…most humbly…accept your proposal. With all of 
my heart."

He kissed her then, unable to resist her any longer and sealing her 
promise. She had made him so happy. He would spend the rest of his life 
showing her how very much.

"I need you so much it scares me sometimes," Christy admitted in a shaky 
voice, when he had drawn back. "I don’t want to cling too tightly to 
you, Neil."

Neil made a sound of dismay, one that she knew all too well. "Ach, lass, 
what a thing t’say to a man who won’t be leavin’ yer side ever again! 
What nonsense you talk!"

But it was clear to him that she was struggling with the reality that 
she was incredibly weak and hardly able to look after herself. She had 
always been so strong and full of determination, diving into every 
project with all she had to give. It was one of the reasons he had 
fallen in love with her. Whenever she stuck out that little chin of 
hers, he had nearly seen red.

He gathered her close against him so that she was drawn tight into his 
embrace. "Hold onto me as tight as ye need to, little one," he softly 
told her, a catch in his voice sending a quiver down her spine. "Ah 
won’t break."

Then as nestled her head under his chin, Neil began to hum a familiar 
mountain love song and Christy felt herself finally, peacefully, fading 
into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter: 11
Summary: Christy gets two surprise visitors before her surgery

Chapter 11

The cool, plump pillow beneath her cheek felt good to Christy. She 
didn’t like to admit that the short drive to get there had taken every 
bit of her strength. At the same time, she had enjoyed her brief journey 
from the Simpson’s house to the hospital.

Even so early in the day the streets had been coming alive as the city 
shook off its mantle of sleep. Trucks of vegetables were on their way to 
market while young boys shouted the morning headlines on street corners. 
Bakers were pulling out loaves of hot, fresh bread to sell. A policeman 
was waving his arms briskly, directing traffic. It was another busy day 
in a large, American city as people scurried to their various 
destinations.

"What are you smiling about, little one?" Neil had asked, his eyes 
warming at her obvious delight. It had pleased him to see her happy on a 
day when worries could have easily worn her down. Especially after so 
little sleep.

"The energy level is so high," she remarked, glancing up at him with 
loving eyes. "It’s so different from Cutter Gap. And yet so many things 
are the same. There’s great poverty here amid the bounty as well. It’s 
amazing how that transcends time and place."

"D’ye think you’d ever want to live here?" Neil asked, wondering aloud. 
Christy had been accustomed to a fast-paced atmosphere for most of her 
life in Asheville. Would she like to return to that?

"Only to visit now and again," she assured him, feeling his arm come 
round her as Alex turned the corner. "My home is in the mountains with a 
certain doctor whose strong shoulder feels very good beneath me just 
now. Thank you, Neil."

Neil’s heart had nearly doubled in size at her words as he dropped a 
lingering kiss on her forehead. Christy wasn’t a woman of lavish 
compliments but what she said came from deep down. She knew just what to 
say to make him feel as if she truly loved and valued him for who he 
was.

Christy sighed now. Her hospital room was quiet. Too quiet. She wished 
she could open the window to at least hear the sounds of the city below. 
Since she was soon to be taken into surgery, no guests were allowed save 
the doctors, including Neil. Even her parents were barred entry. She was 
to have complete rest.

At first that had disturbed her but she saw the wisdom behind it. She 
needed her rest and Christy didn’t think she could bear seeing her 
parents just then. Not with all that was taking place.  Her mother’s 
tears might bring on her own. She didn’t want to cry but embrace hope 
and life. To put her life in God’s hands and simply relax.

Ian had come in a half hour ago to inform her that while she was running 
a low fever, they were going ahead with the surgery. Her other vital 
signs were good and it was time to go forward.  The waiting was nearly 
over.

Neil had asked to be allowed in the operating theatre to be present for 
the surgery. He would not be assisting Ian but he wanted to be present 
should any complications arise. Christy knew they weren’t fooling anyone 
but she was relieved t o know he would be with her. Just knowing his 
watchful presence would be in the room gave her peace.

Her parents had arrived soon after Neil, Alex, and Mary had brought her 
to the hospital. George had left for the station to pick them up before 
she had woken up, to her extreme disappointment. She had longed to talk 
to him, to hear one of his corny jokes. He always had a way of making 
the worst situation seem not so serious. She could use his lopsided grin 
just now. Even his attempts to juggle rubber balls last night would have 
made her laugh.

Turning slightly, Christy’s eyes fell on the pictures of the children 
that she had brought with her. How colorful they were. Tears rose in her 
eyes as she looked at each one. There was a sketch of Creed and his 
raccoon Scalawag. Another of Becky and Mountie O’Teale running over a 
hill. Even Lundy had contributed a rough pencil drawing of a wild colt, 
a beautiful thing. She had never known he had such talent before. But 
then again, the children of Cutter Gap had always surprised her. They 
were, as Miss Alice said, "miracles in training." How right she was.

Christy smiled to herself, her finger tracing the next drawing of 
Goldie, the palomino Miss Alice rode. The one person she wished she 
could talk to at that moment was Miss Alice. She longed for the woman’s 
serene calm, her gentle smile, the glow of her presence. She was like a 
calm in a storm, Christy thought. How could I have taken that for 
granted? What a gift she is in my life.

Christy swallowed back the tears and rose up to take a drink of water. 
Waiting was the hardest part of it, she thought. Waiting for them to 
come and take me away. The silence of the room was louder than any 
noise.

So intent were her thoughts that Christy nearly jumped when the door of 
her room opened, revealing a tall, thin nurse in the hospital’s 
requisite flowing white pinafore. Christy’s eyes darted up to look at 
her face and saw that the nurse was hiding her features behind a 
handkerchief. Was it time to go, she thought worriedly. Christy wondered 
if Neil was outside waiting.

The nurse quickly made her way across the room, her movement jerky and 
somewhat unfeminine. What a peculiar nurse, Christy thought. Most of 
them had been so graceful and self-assured in their movements. This one 
must be new, she thought. Perhaps she’s not sure of how to talk to 
patients. She must be nervous.

"How are you feeling, Miss Huddleston?" came a very high pitched, 
unnatural voice as the nurse fussed over her water pitcher. "Hope you’re 
not nervous about today. You’re gonna be just fine."

Settling back against the pillows, Christy noticed the nurse was wearing 
long white gloves over her large hands. Now that was very unusual. "Just 
fine, Nurse…what was your name again, please?" she asked with great 
curiosity. There was almost something familiar about her.

"Georgette," the nurse replied pleasantly, refilling the almost empty 
pitcher. "I’m new here, you’ll have to forgive my clumsiness."

Christy bit back a smile as she watched the novice nurse spill some of 
the water onto the floor. Georgette obviously wasn’t used to working in 
a hospital. She watched as the nurse bent awkwardly to wipe up the spill 
with a cloth. 

Christy’s eyes suddenly fell on the shoes peeking out from beneath 
Georgette’s long, full skirt and drew in her breath, stunned. They were 
men’s shoes! It was no nurse!  Suddenly it all fell into place.

"George Albert Huddleston, what DO you think you are doing in here?" she 
demanded, her voice full of fire as the mystery became clear to her. "If 
they find you in here, they’ll toss you out in a heartbeat! Have you 
lost your marbles?"

The sound of barely suppressed laughter rang out in the quiet room and 
George doubled over as the charade abruptly came to an end. "Oh, sis, 
you should have seen your face when I walked in! You truly didn’t know 
it was me? Even when I said my name?"

Unable to stop herself, Christy began to laugh at the hilarity of it. 
"Georgette’s" wig and cap were askew on his head from toppling over. He 
looked absolutely ridiculous. Only her madcap brother would have cooked 
up such an audacious plan. Only George. "Oh George, what’ s gotten into 
you? Where did you get that outfit? Mother would have a heart attack if 
she saw you looking like that!"

Wiping his eyes, George adjusted his costume and rose with a painful 
groan. "I hadn’t thought of that. Sweet Susan Louise Mumford got it for 
me. You know, the student nurse from the second floor? Think she likes 
me. Anyway, I talked her into letting me borrow this get up to see you. 
I didn’t get to wish you a proper good-bye this morning and I couldn’t 
stand it. I had to get in here somehow."

Chastened, Christy’s heart swelled with joy. "You could have gotten 
yourself put in jail," Christy murmured, taking his hand as he sat on 
the edge of the bed. "And gotten Susan Louise in trouble. Taking a risk 
like that. And I hate to say this but you make one homely looking girl, 
George."

Pretending to look offended, George lifted his chin defiantly. "I think 
I look rather fetching myself. Then again, I don’t think this outfit is 
very flattering to my, er, figure. Enough about my beauty secrets. Are 
you ready, sis?"

Her humor diminishing somewhat, Christy’s smile remained in place. "As 
ready as I’ll ever be. But what about Mother and Daddy? Are they with 
Neil?"

George nodded his youthful face hopeful. "He’s with them now and he’s 
got mother purring like a kitten. I had no idea just how charming the 
doctor could be under certain circumstances. Must be that Scots blood. 
Whatever it is, it’s working."

Surprised, Christy asked, "How can that be? She’s expressed her opinions 
about him before and they weren’t always the highest."

"She’s not as prickly as she used to be," George admitted, noticing how 
small his older sister looked in the pale light of morning.  How he 
wished he could trade places with her. "And Neil helped Dad get his 
health back so her views may have changed somewhat. She’s obviously 
grateful to him for making all these arrangements for you, the quiet 
room and the nearby waiting area. She knows that Neil’s done a good job 
looking after you."

Christy looked away, thinking of how many things Neil had done for her 
since they had reunited on the train. He had taken care of so many 
things, details she was too tired and too sick to think about clearly. 
Even the fresh bouquet of flowers on the bedside table was from him. But 
did her mother realize that it was more than that? Did she know Neil 
wanted to marry her?

As if reading her thoughts, George took off the wig and cap and took 
both of her hands in his. "Christy, Mother’s no fool. Father shared 
Neil’s telegram with her and she put the facts together. True, she was a 
bit surprised. But she’ll get used to the idea once she knows that’s 
what will make you happy. Even if she does have to eat possum delight at 
your mountain wedding reception. Won’t that be grand?"

Despite her fears, Christy chuckled at her brother’s remark. The very 
thought made her laugh. He could always make her laugh, even now. "So 
you don’t think she’s goaded him into some terrible argument, do you?" 
she asked, squeezing his hands lightly. "He’s got a temper at times."

"But according to Father he’s evidently a changed man since Christ came 
into his heart," George gently reminded her. "Even Mother said so. So 
let go and let God work out the details. Just concentrate on getting 
through this and getting well quickly. These darn petticoats chafe like 
the dickens so I don’t want to have to be doing this again anytime soon! 
Got that?"

She nodded contritely, a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth. With 
that, he leaned over to kiss her forehead and move off of the bed. "Love 
you, sis," he told her quietly.

"Love you, scamp," she murmured, thinking of how much of a man he had 
come to be,   in spite of the crazy costume. "Stay out of trouble and 
thank Susan Louise for me. I owe her one. And don’t let Mother see you!"

A few minutes later, Neil came into the room and she wiped away the 
tears. "Christy, are you all right?" he asked, coming to the side of her 
bed. The orderlies were soon going to take her into the operating 
theatre.

"Just laughing to myself, thinking about when George and I were little," 
she said softly, glad he was near. "We often scrapped as kids, fought, 
played, shouted, acted like wildcats. But I always loved him so."

Glancing over at the chair beside the bed, Neil’s eyes fell on a pair of 
women’s gloves. His eyes widened noticeably as he turned back to her. 
"That wasn’t…you don’t mean to tell me…that George was here!"

Eyes brimming with laughter, Christy nodded. "Yes, that madman. He 
dressed up like a nurse so he could come and wish me well. He had me 
fooled at first but the shoes gave him away."

Neil nodded slowly, a grin lighting up his rugged features. "I thought I 
saw a rather odd looking nurse running down the hall at a quick pace. 
Didn’t have quite the shape of most of the nurses around here."

Reaching out for his hand, Christy lifted her small chin with a hint of 
amused interest, "And have you made the nurses of this hospital a 
particular study, my good doctor? Was that part of your curriculum in 
medical school? "

Seating himself on the edge of the bed, Neil covered her fingers with 
both of his and clasped them in his. That light was in his eyes, the one 
reserved just for her and a little shiver of delight traveled down her 
spine. 

 "Nay, Miss Huddleston, I was a right proper student. My eyes were…and 
are…completely focused on my teacher. At all times," he added with a 
devilish grin that tugged at her heart.

She felt the strength, the protection of that hand and looked down at 
their entwined fingers. How many lives had those hands brought into this 
world? How many sutures had they sewn, bandages covered? They were large 
but gentle, calloused but skilled. It dazzled and humbled her to know 
that these hands belonged to a man whose heart was now hers. 

"It’s time to go, isn’t it?" she asked softly, looking up at him 
inquiringly. Yet he did not see fear there.

"Almost," he agreed, tracing patterns lightly on her palm. "But not 
quite. I have a little something for you and I’ve just a few moments to 
give it to you."

Her eyes lit up like a small child and he grinned. Her innocent joy in 
the simple things always pleased him. "For me?" she echoed. "What is 
it?"

Reaching into his shirt pocket, Neil took out a small velvet box and 
Christy felt her throat suddenly go dry. Her fingers tightened on his as 
she looked up at him. Could it be…

"Christy," Neil breathed, almost struggling to find the words. "I spoke 
with your parents this morning. And they have given me their permission 
to seek your hand in marriage. I wanted t’ give this to you now…today…so 
you will know that no matter what happens, my heart and my life are now 
in your possession."

She took the box from him, tears threatening to return in her luminous 
blue eyes. With trembling fingers, she nearly dropped it but then Neil 
helped her to open it. How different from the other time she had opened 
a similar jeweler’s box in a schoolyard not so long ago. That day she 
had felt torn, so uncertain of what to do. Now she had no doubts, no 
regrets of any kind.

She had once considered David her knight in shining armor in her girlish 
dreams. But it was Neil who was her companion, her lover, and her best 
friend. How much stronger and precious it was in comparison.

"Oh Neil," she breathed aloud, her eyes taking in the beauty of a 
single, perfect sapphire set with two tiny diamonds. "It’s so beautiful. 
How did you know I love sapphires?"

He was dazzled by the light in her eyes, her apparent joy. Did she know 
that her eyes matched the glow of the ring’s jewel? "It belonged to my 
grandmother, Christy. She had blue eyes much like yours. And it belonged 
to her mother. It’s been passed down over the years. And now it belongs 
to you."

He took her left hand and carefully slid it onto her tiny finger. It was 
a little loose but it looked as if it belonged just where it was. 
Gently, he lifted her hand and kissed it and she lifted up to draw 
closer to him. 

"I give you my hand, Neil MacNeil, on one condition," Christy softly 
told him, her hand rising to tuck an unruly lock of hair back from his 
broad forehead. Her heart thrilled to the fact that she, and she only, 
would have the privilege of performing that task in the years to come.  
"And one alone."

His hazel eyes were curious, mirroring the feelings in his heart at that 
moment. The pale light of morning was shining through the one window, 
pouring onto the bed and over them. The blond highlights in her hair 
were shining like fairy lights, bouncing off the fiery sapphire on her 
finger. How he wished he could paint, he thought. To capture the essence 
of her sweetness, her innocent charm on canvas. Could he ever do it 
justice?

"And what is that, Miss Huddleston?" he asked with equal softness, a 
slight tremor in his voice the only indication of the seriousness of the 
moment.

"Only if you take all of me," she murmured, her words low and warm. "My 
heart, my body, and soul… my past, present, and future…as I take yours. 
With God standing at the center of our lives together."

Neil did not speak right away, the words catching in his throat. This 
young woman who was some ten odd years younger than he made him feel 
akin to a blushing school boy. How did she know what words to say that 
would utterly flummox and bemuse him and yet touch his soul?

"Aye," he spoke at last, brushing his free hand against her cheek, 
feeling the softness of it like the down of a young chick. His gaze held 
hers, fastening like silken bonds about her heart. "You have it already, 
lass.  All of it.  Until th’ day I die."

His mouth met hers as she leaned forward, instinctively sealing their 
union. Whatever happened, their hearts were joined as one from this day 
forward, with God as their witness. 

There was a soft knock at the door and Neil drew back slowly, almost 
unwilling to do so. But a smile lightened his features. "I’ve one more 
gift for you, little one. But it was too big to fit into a velvet box, I 
am afraid. It’s waiting for you down the hall."

The orderlies came into the room then, rolling the narrow trolley that 
would carry her to the operating theatre. Neil gently lifted her onto 
it, feeling how terribly thin she was through the bedclothes. How he 
wished it were all over.  

Neil’s strong hand was clasped in hers as they continued down the long, 
wide corridor toward the elevator. The trolley glided to a stop and 
Christy suddenly realized what, or rather who, her surprise was. It was 
the fragrance of woodruff in the air that told her.

"Miss Alice!" she exclaimed softly, hardly able to believe she was real. 
How had she gotten there? How had she known?

Hovering over her was the serene, smiling face she had been thinking of 
only moments before. Right beside her!

"Hello, Christy," she warmly said, dressed in her best dress of Quaker 
gray. "Thy secret is out. I do hope you are not disturbed that I came. 
Neil phone me a few days ago."

"Oh no, I’m glad you came" Christy murmured, shaking her head. "I…I’m 
sorry I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want to worry anyone."

"Dear child," Miss Alice said, her gloved hand falling on where 
Christy’s lay. "Did thee think I could not bear being with thee in thy 
time of need?"

"You’ve been through so much," Christy explained, clasping Miss Alice’s 
hand. "I…I didn’t want to add to it. But I’m so glad…so very glad you’re 
here now."

Miss Alice’s eyes did not miss the glimmer of the ring on Christy’s 
finger and a smile lit her queenly features. "So am I," she agreed. "For 
I see thee has other news to share. Congratulations, Christy. And to 
thee also, Neil. It is my fondest wish…to see thee both happy."

A shadow of fear lingered in Christy’s eyes but Miss Alice’s cool 
fingers soothed her forehead. "Don’t fret, Christy. You need not fear my 
displeasure. Margaret has gone on to be with God. And you are here. It’s 
only right that thee and Neil should be together, to love the children 
and to care for their parents. It will be a blessing to the Cove. And to 
me!"

Christy closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer of gratitude. She 
had worried so that Miss Alice might resent her marriage to Neil and 
think it was too soon after Margaret’s death. It was like a weight 
lifted from her small shoulders. 

Neil stepped up beside Miss Alice. "I’m afraid we have to go now, 
Christy. Ian’s waiting for us. Alice, Christy’s parents are downstairs 
in the waiting area."

Miss Alice nodded and looked down at Christy to say her farewell. "God 
will keep thee in His hand, my child. You need only rest in his care. 
For you are resting in the shadow of His wings, under his kind 
protection."

Christy heard the slight tremor in Miss Alice’s voice and the grip of 
her hand on hers. Then she was moving, the orderlies pushing the trolley 
into the elevator so they could go down to the second floor.

A few minutes later, Christy was lying on the large table underneath the 
bright lights. Around her, nurses and doctors were scurrying about to 
prepare for the surgery. She could hear the sound of unfamiliar machines 
and the clank of metal. Ian was washing his hands in the next room, 
whistling a Scottish jig that Christy could faintly recall. How odd it 
seemed for such a business-like atmosphere, she thought. Then again, 
they do this almost every day.

Neil, well scrubbed and garbed in white, was looking down at her now, 
his gloved hand resting on hers. "You don’t have to worry, Christy," he 
told her softly so the others could not hear. "I’m going to be here when 
you go to sleep. And I’ll be here when you wake up."

She nodded, feeling the warmth of his hazel eyes and relaxed, her tense 
muscles growing limp.  She didn’t even hear Ian quietly requesting that 
the nurse administer the ether to her. All sound, all smells, were 
blocked from her.

All she felt was the powerful, protective hand of the man who loved her. 
And the sheltering presence of his body beside her. 

 And as the world slowly began to fade around her, she focused on a pair 
of hazel eyes that promised her everything would be allright.

Chapter: 12
Summary: The residents of the Cove gather to pray for Christy

Chapter 12

A yeasty aroma filled the air as Rose’s nimble fingers kneaded the huge 
mound of dough for tomorrow’s baking. In her time in Cutter Gap, she’d 
gotten quite adept at the procedure. But today her mind was not on the 
task.

Standing at the kitchen counter, she looked out the window again to see 
David grooming Prince in the corral area. He’d been at it for the last 
hour so she knew he was distracted about something. It usually only took 
half that time.  He never took this long. The usually spirited stallion 
would rarely stand still for such activity.

Sighing, Rose rubbed her hands absently on her apron to get rid of the 
loose flour, wondering if she ought to go down and talk to him. Perhaps 
that would ease his mind. Then again, she didn’t know what she would 
tell him if she did.

All was quiet in the Mission House. Today was different and 
unconsciously, they all knew why.  

Somewhere in a large hospital in Philadelphia, Christy Huddleston was 
facing a turning point in their life. Like a determined mountain climber 
scaling a towering peak, her life hung precariously in the balance. 
Despite the fact she was miles away, nobody could forget the impact she 
had made on Cutter Gap from the smallest child to the most elderly cove 
granny.  Rose felt as if an invisible shadow was hovering over them, 
blocking the sunlight.

Miss Alice’s comforting presence was sorely missed today, Rose thought 
as she covered the dough with a light cloth and left it to rise on the 
wide window sill. David was nowhere in sight now and Prince was back in 
his stall, contentedly munching on his oats, his coat gleaming from 
David’s efforts. 

Just having Miss Alice about made Rose feel safe somehow, as if God’s 
hand was resting over them. But Rose knew that it was for the best that 
Alice travel to Philadelphia to join Christy in her time of need. 

The news of Christy’s illness had hit the Mission hard. They had only 
learned of it last week when Neil had phoned Alice to request she come. 
David had insisted on knowing what was taking place so they might pray 
for Christy and Alice had finally given in, despite her misgivings about 
doing so.

The awareness that Christy had been holding in such a heavy secret had 
been a particularly painful weight on David’s shoulders. Despite all 
that had happened, they were still friends and co-workers. Rose had 
talked to him at length about it, wishing she might be of some comfort 
to him. But he blamed himself for not acting sooner, for not knowing 
what was happening.

"I should have gone down there the moment I heard from Mr. Remington," 
David kept saying, shaking his head in remorse. "I knew something wasn’t 
quite right. And then that request from Mrs. Huddleston for drawings. 
You were right all along. But no, I was too busy looking to my own 
responsibilities and let Neil stumble into this on his own. He must have 
felt as if he were losing his mind! Why didn’t I pay attention to the 
signs?"

Sitting beside him on the gazebo seat, Rose had covered his large hand 
with hers. "David, you know Christy wouldn’t want you to beat yourself 
up over this. She wanted it to be a secret and went out of her way to 
keep it that way. She didn’t want to worry anyone. That’s her nature. 
You and I both know that. How were you to know?"

She paused, thinking how extraordinary it had been that Neil had found 
Christy on the same train that was taking him to Philadelphia. A 
coincidence that she chose to believe as God’s providence.  

"You’ve been a good friend to Neil over the last months and I know that 
at first it wasn’t easy for you. He isn’t the easiest man to get to 
know, believe me. What’s important now is that we lift them up in prayer 
and seek God’s grace. He brought Neil and Christy together. Surely He 
won’t abandon them now," she quietly said.

Holding tightly to her hand, David stared down at this feet, his face 
shadowed. "In my heart I know that’s true. It’s what I have to believe 
as a follower of Christ. But my thoughts keep shouting at me, Rose. I 
had to preach Margaret MacNeill’s eulogy not that long ago. Every part 
of me refuses to allow the possibility that I’ll possibly…have to speak 
another for Christy. I couldn’t take that."

A soft breeze fluttered through the honeysuckle in the silence that 
followed. Rose saw the unspoken agony haunting David and put her free 
hand on his firm shoulder to rest it there. "David, I know it’s easy for 
me to tell you to trust God. It may sound like I’m just parroting what 
others have told you before. But to deny what you’re feeling would be 
equally wrong.  I want you to know I do understand. And I share your 
helplessness. Maybe that’s what makes God’s grace and mercy so 
overwhelming. Even when we’re afraid and uncertain, He loves us and 
carries us."

Her words seemed to finally penetrate. Smiling as if he shared a sweet 
secret, David’s furrowed brow slowly smoothed out and he put his arm 
loosely around her waist. "How do you know exactly what to say to me, 
Rose Campbell? I swear that God’s been whispering in your ear."

"I’m getting to know you pretty well, David Grantland," Rose had 
murmured, thinking how much she was enjoying the activity. "And I know 
you care deeply about others, including Christy. She’ll always have a 
special place in your heart."

Rose slowly began removing her apron, knowing it was useless to continue 
going about this charade of cooking and cleaning. Her mind and her heart 
simply were not in it. Smoothing her hair back from her forehead, she 
stepped out onto the porch and headed down the steps. She wanted to 
spend some time in God’s presence to lift up her friends in prayer. 

As Rose made her way up the hill, she saw Ruby Mae coming from behind 
the house to fall into step with her. Her fiery mane of red hair was 
hard to miss amid the pines. But to her amazement, the teenage girl was 
not brimming with her usual excessive excitement and chatter. She looked 
very solemn and pensive, a change that was not missed on Rose.

Rose simply turned to Ruby Mae and took her hand in hers, squeezing it 
tightly. The poor girl was obviously worried and needed some comfort. It 
was clear that Rose was not the only one who was thinking about the 
teacher that afternoon. She smiled at her and silently they began 
mounting the hill to the schoolhouse together, hands clasped. 

As they came to the top of the schoolhouse steps, Rose saw to her 
amazement that others had felt called to come together at the one 
community building in Cutter Gap. 

Inside the schoolhouse others sat quietly in prayer, some quietly 
talking. Fairlight was near the front with her girls, Zady and Clara, 
their heads bowed. David was sitting nearby, his hand on Rob Allen’s 
shoulder as they prayed. Even Sam Houston was there, his hat in hand as 
he whispered the Lord’s Prayer under his breath over and over, a quiet 
Orter Ball O’Teale beside him. Somehow word had gotten out that Miss 
Christy needed their prayers. And the cove was responding.

Rose and Ruby Mae found empty seats at the back of the schoolhouse near 
Dan and Cecile Scott and knelt together to pray silently. But it wasn’t 
long before Rose felt a small hand tugging on her skirt.

Looking up, Rose found two round faces staring back at her. LuLu Spencer 
and Mountie O’Teale stood before her, holding tightly onto each other’s 
hands. They looked very uncertain and Mountie could barely meet her 
eyes. Putting an arm around each, Rose drew them to her comfortingly and 
she felt them both relax somewhat.

"Miss Rose," LuLu asked in a solemn whisper. "We…we come to say a prayer 
for Teacher. Her bein’ sick an’ all. But…we don’t know no grand sermons 
like Preacher. We…well, Mountie and me is so little. We don’t know how."

Mountie looked up then, bolstered by Rose’s encircling arm. Miss Rose 
was nice like Miss Christy. And smart. She’d tell them what to do. 
"Would you…do it fer us?" she asked so softly that Rose almost didn’t 
hear her.

Christy’s reach had gone so far, Rose marveled. She had heard the 
stories about Mountie O’Teale never speaking before Christy’s arrival in 
the cove. And how the teacher had saved LuLu from being stung to death 
by angry bees. Such acts of kindness had not been lost on her students.

"Girls, I want you to know something," Rose softly told them. "God cares 
about you. He loves you very much. So much that he wants you to talk to 
him as if you were talking to your friends, your parents, or me. It’s 
that easy."

LuLu didn’t look completely convinced, her dark eyes suspicious. 
"Really, Miss Rose? But…He’s so big an’ all. Don’t wanna say it wrong or 
mess up. Preacher…well, he knows how to do it right. I don’t think I 
can."

Rose smiled to herself. The children were so earnest that it touched her 
heart. "Lulu, there isn’t a wrong way to pray. All you have to do is 
tell God how you feel. And use what words are in your heart. It doesn’t 
have to be long. And it doesn’t have to be grand. He always listens. I 
promise."

The girls seemed to accept this and Rose continued. "So let’s close our 
eyes now. And just say what’s in your heart."

The little girls settled on each side of her and Rose remained silent as 
LuLu softly began:

"Dear God…we love Miss Christy…a powerful lot…she’s awful good to us…I 
like how she tells us stories and makes book learnin’ fun. Would 
you…would you take care of her, God? I know you can make Miss Christy 
feel better. So I’m askin’ you to do that. And thank you for bringin’ 
her here to Cutter Gap."

The dark-haired child nudged Mountie then, who wasn’t quite as sure of 
herself as her friend. She fumbled with her pinafore pocket for a moment 
and then began to speak:

"Dear...God…please…make Miss…Miss Christy well. Amen."

A hint of tears caused a lump to form in Rose’s throat. She had never 
witnessed anything sweeter and more pure in all her life. No wonder 
Christy adored teaching these children so much. They were constantly 
surprising her with their child-like wonder and wisdom.  

"God, you told us to come to you as a little child," Rose silently 
prayed. "With a simple faith that You can take care of anything. Help me 
to remember that, God. Please help me to come to You as these have 
today."

*

"We did the best we could, Neil," Ian MacDougall remarked wearily as he 
washed his hands thoroughly with antiseptic soap. "To place blame or 
assign guilt is to torture yourself. So don’t ye be doin’ that.."

Sitting in a chair in the scrub room, Neil was staring into space. He 
hardly heard his friend’s words of comfort. His mind, his eyes, were 
still back in the operating theatre. The knowledge of what had taken 
place there only moments ago continued to haunt him, as did the stain of 
deepest crimson on his white medical gown.

It was Christy’s blood that he carried on his clothing. And Neil felt as 
if he would carry it on his soul forever.

At first, the operation had gone exactly to plan, every movement a 
precision action of skill and dexterity. Ian had located the tumor, had 
found it almost exactly where he had thought it to be. It was slightly 
larger than either Neil or he had imagined but not dangerously so. And 
none of her other organs appeared to have been compromised by it. That 
alone was a miracle in light of the possibilities.

With Neil looking on, Ian had carefully gone about the delicate business 
of removing it. It was tricky work. He had nearly completed the task 
when Christy had begun to unexpectedly hemorrhage. Nothing had prepared 
either doctor for the occurrence and Neil had swiftly moved forward to 
assist Ian to stop the bleeding. In time they were able to stop it but 
Christy had lost more blood than either man would have liked. In her 
anemic state, such a thing could be a death knell.

Neil could hardly believe he had been able to move quickly and act 
without panic. It was as if he had watched someone else doing it. The 
woman he loved had nearly died on the operating table and yet he had 
been able to do exactly what was necessary. He thanked God for his 
grace, for enabling him to do so in the crisis. Neil knew he could not 
have done such a thing on his own strength.

Christy had lain so still on the hospital trolley they had placed her on 
to take her back to her room. Her pale skin had a bluish tint to it from 
the blood loss she had suffered. As if she were balanced on a precipice 
between life and death, hovering in a no man’s land where he could not 
gain access. Neil had placed a lingering kiss on her forehead, as if 
sealing her as his.

"Her blood pressure," Neil murmured aloud. "It’s barely enough…to keep a 
rabbit alive. She’ll never come out of the anesthesia, Ian."

Ian refused to be taken down by Neil’s doubts. He had seen worse happen 
in his years as a surgeon and seen full recoveries. "I won’t listen to 
this, Neil. Ye put her in God’s hands this morning. Do y’ want to 
discount Him now? Do ye refuse to see how he put you there in that room 
to help save her life?"

"No, I don’t," Neil swiftly said, his head coming up. Some of the old 
fight was back in his voice and Ian was glad of it. "But you cannot 
overlook the fact…that she’s got an uphill fight ahead of her in the 
next 48 hours."

Drying his hands carefully, Ian joined Neil and pulled up the adjacent 
chair. "Aye," he agreed. "To deny it would be foolish. But she also had 
a strong, hardy man who loves her more than ever. And family. And 
friends. All praying for her. Ye saw the same thing I did. The tumor 
didn’t invade her other organs. Carefully watched, she should look 
forward to a slow but permanent recovery."

"If she wakes up," Neil murmured, turning to his friend as if to 
challenge him. It rested vividly in his hazel eyes like a fist slamming 
down on a table.

 And for once, Ian MacDougall could not say a single word in response. 


Chapter: 13
Summary: Alex and Mary talk about their future/The vigil continues

Chapter 13

Alex Remington pulled on his leather gloves and slowly walked down the 
steps of the hospital, welcoming the cool breeze that met him as he did 
so. The quiet gloom inside the building was too oppressive to take any 
longer. 

As he made his way down the sidewalk, Alex thought of those he had left 
behind inside. Christy’s surgery had ended four hours ago and she was 
still unconscious. Dr. MacDougal had tried to put a good face on it but 
Alex knew that Christy was in God’s hands now. No matter that the tumor 
had been successfully removed. It was the blood loss that might take her 
life in the end. How horribly ironic.

"Dear God, how can this happen?" he thought to himself, hardly seeing 
the people he passed. "It simply cannot. It doesn’t make sense!"

Then again, nothing about Christy’s illness had made sense. To go about 
it logically wasted too much energy. They had to concentrate on the 
future, on praying for her.

He had sent Mary to the park at Rittenhouse Square an hour ago so she 
and George might burn off some nervous energy. Keeping George still and 
in one place was not an easy task in good times. And with Julia refusing 
to leave until Christy’s status improved, Alex knew it was best to get 
George out in the fresh air.

The air was cool and refreshingly crisp, the taste of autumn in the 
wind. As he neared the park, Alex could see the blaze of vibrant reds, 
oranges, and yellows topping the trees. They were an oasis of color and 
life in the rather gray urban landscape. It was a welcome sight after 
the whit e walls of the hospital.

Mary had been his strength, Alex thought as he waited to cross the 
street. She had been so sensitive to his changing moods, staying quiet 
when he needed time to think and talking with him when he was ready. How 
had God known that he would grow to need her so much? 

Adjusting his hat, Alex smiled as he remembered something Rebecca had 
been fond of saying. "God often knows what we need before we need it, 
honey. And lovingly sends it to us with His blessing."

There was so many things he wanted to tell Mary, Alex thought, as a 
model T car sped by him. But it felt as if the right time never came. 
And now with Christy so ill, it seemed wrong to speak of it. 

He caught sight of Mary then, her wine colored cape a perfect foil for 
her rich, dark hair. Was it time or a trick of the light that made it 
seem like spun silk, he thought. Every day she grew more beautiful to 
him. Every day he found it more difficult to picture his future without 
her in it. To do so was almost physically painful.

She was charmingly perched on a bench, her thoughts clearly a thousand 
miles away. He knew she had a way of forgetting her surroundings at 
times. Alex approached the bench where she sat down and she didn’t even 
look up, so deep into her contemplation that she did not hear him speak 
her name. 

"Mary, did you hear me?" he asked with a knowing smile. 

Jolted out of her reverie, Mary looked up to find Alex sitting beside 
her on the bench she had taken an hour ago. She hadn’t even heard his 
approach. Where was her mind?

"I’m sorry, Alex," Mary apologized with a weak grin as she realized her 
foolishness. "I was wool gathering as usual. Please tell me you have 
some good news."

Shaking his head, Alex’s smile faded into a grim line. "I’m afraid not. 
She still hasn’t woken up yet. Neil’s not saying a word, won’t leave her 
side. Julia and William are trying to hold on. And Miss Alice continues 
to pray. That’s about it."

Taking a deep breath, Mary reached over to take Alex’s gloved hand in 
hers. It was a movement that came naturally to her, like a bird going to 
roost in its nest. "And how are you?" she gently asked, her brown eyes 
searching his. 

His gray eyes met hers with thanks and affection. The gentle light 
glowing there warmed his soul. Amid his efforts to make everything 
comfortable for the Huddlestons, it was Mary who had done little things 
to ease his mind. From writing little encouraging notes to having his 
scarf and gloves ready to preparing his favorite tea, Mary made life so 
much nicer for him. It had a sparkle and depth that it had not had in 
some time.

"Doing fine, thanks to you," he remarked at last, squeezing the hand 
that was in his and entwining their fingers. "I hope you’re not getting 
cold out here. I think the temperature’s dropping again. What happened 
to George?"

"It’s been a mild afternoon," Mary assured him. Rittenhouse Square was a 
fashionable area next to the hospital and boasted a small park. She had 
tried to divert her mind by watching the passersby. "George went in 
search of a newspaper so I was letting my thoughts wander again. Bad 
habit of mine."

"That boy lives for baseball," Alex chuckled, his air of gloom 
lightening somewhat. George had tried to distract them in the waiting 
room more than once. "Then again, I was fishing mad when I was younger. 
Do you remember that?"

"You still are," Mary reminded him with a knowing smile. She had known 
Alex since they were in the same Sunday School class. "I don’t think 
you’ve ever recovered. But I do happen to recall a certain church picnic 
at Tanner’s Lake when your mind was not on the fish that day."

Despite the number of years that had passed, Alex’s cheeks still flushed 
remembering it. "You had to bring that up, didn’t you?" he slowly said, 
putting his arm about her shoulders. "Am I ever going to live that 
down?"

Enjoying the agony she was putting him through, Mary snuggled into his 
shoulder. His coat smelled of autumn leaves and his favorite cologne. It 
was a strong shoulder that she knew she could lean on if she needed to. 
Today they needed to lean on each other more than ever.

"Nope," she declared. "I don’t think so. How will I ever forget the 
sight of you losing what was probably the biggest crappie in Simmons 
County history because Laurie Amos was dipping her delicate little toes 
in the water?" 

Unable to resist, Alex laughed out loud as he remembered that day all 
too well. He’d been all of 14 when he’d been talked into attending the 
picnic. Fishing was all he thought about in those days. Girls were 
almost another species in his book. But then beautiful Laurie Amos and 
her red curls had arrived and suddenly his mind had been changed about 
girls forever. 

He’d been perched on a fallen log under a big maple beside the lake when 
he’d heard some noise from close by. Looking down the shore, he’d caught 
sight of her with Jasper Moss. Sure enough, Laurie was taking off her 
shoes to get her feet wet. In the process, she unwittingly revealed a 
remarkable amount of trim ankle!

Alex had been so stunned by what he had seen that he hadn’t even noticed 
the huge fish taking his line far out to the middle of the lake. Mary 
had been walking over to see how he was progressing when she had seen 
the entire episode unfold.

"I don’t think I ever saw anyone laugh so hard in all my life," Alex 
remembered, picturing Mary as a young girl. "You caught me, you sneak! 
It was pretty silly, I guess. But you weren’t supposed to be looking, 
you know."

"I was always interested in you, Alex Remington," Mary admitted, knowing 
it was the truth. "Even when we were teenagers. You were definitely 
different from the rest of the boys."

"My ears stuck out like tree stumps," Alex joked, thinking of how 
awkward looking he was in those days. Then again, so had most of the 
boys he had known. Those teenage years were always difficult. Entering 
law school had seemed so much easier by comparison.

"That’s not what I remember. You were always something pretty special to 
me," Mary confessed, thinking back to that time. "I had a terrible crush 
on you back then."

Alex could hardly believe what she was saying. All thoughts of the 
hospital and Christy were driven from his mind. Turning on the bench, 
Alex looked down into her eyes. "Mary, you’re still teasing me. You must 
be! I had no idea you ever felt that way about me."

Now it was her turn to blush and she rose slowly to move away from the 
bench. "Silly, isn’t it? I was the skinny girl with the glasses. Few of 
the boys would talk to me then. But you did. And I really appreciated 
that. More than you know."

Alex watched her in stunned silence. He had never thought of Mary in 
that way then. The boys in his class hadn’t thought Mary to be ugly. It 
was her intelligence and keen wit that had kept them at bay most of the 
time. They couldn’t keep up. He could even remember Clarence Bray 
telling him he was jealous of their friendship.

"You were very pretty, Mary," Alex quietly remarked, carefully watching 
her. "Even then. But you were so smart. We didn’t stand a chance. If I 
had known how you felt then, I don’t think I would have hesitated in 
asking you out."

"Ah, but then Rebecca’s family moved to Asheville," Mary softly said, 
remembering it clearly. "You know, she was the nicest girl I’d ever met. 
And she was crazy about you from the start."

"And I was crazy about her," Alex admitted. Why was she delving back 
into the past like this? Was she somehow intimidated by Rebecca’s 
memory? "I fell like a big old oak tree under an axe. But you know that 
already."

Not looking his way, Mary wandered a few steps, watching a squirrel that 
had just scampered up an elm tree. Something was on her mind but she was 
holding it back for some reason. They had talked about his marriage to 
Rebecca and the agony he had faced in watching her die. Mary had seemed 
comfortable with the fact that it had taken him a while to get over 
that.

"Mary, what’s troubling you?" he quietly asked.
 
Moving slightly away from him, Mary’s eyes glanced down the park walk. 
Two little girls were playing hopscotch down the way, their nurses 
seated on a nearby bench. The sound of their laughter had been at the 
corners of her thoughts since she’d arrived. Would she ever know the joy 
of hearing her own child’s laughter? Of being a wife?

"Alex…Christy’s illness has caused me to think about things 
differently," she finally said, choosing her words carefully. "It’s made 
me realize how precious life is. How valuable our time can be. How often 
we don’t say what we really mean. Or tell others how we feel."

She paused, feeling as if she were taking one of the greatest risks of 
her life. She had put Alex Remington out of her mind when he had fallen 
in love with Rebecca. And she’d left him there until she’d seen him walk 
into the college auditorium with Christy that day.  All of those 
forgotten feelings and yearnings had somehow come back to life with a 
vengeance.

Mary had never allowed herself to think of Alex possibly loving her 
until the last few weeks. They had spent so much time together, taking 
and laughing. Praying and studying the Bible together. He had made it 
clear that he cared about her. But never had she heard him say he loved 
her.

Did Rebecca still haunt him, she wondered. And was Christy’s illness 
causing him to think of the loss he had faced? Was it wrong to even have 
this discussion now?

Before she could speak again, Mary felt two strong hands on her 
shoulders.  Alex had come up behind her and she could feel the warm of 
his body. Did he know, she thought. Did he have any idea?

He turned her to face him, noticing how the breeze tickled the curls 
peeking out from under her wide brimmed hat. The fading afternoon light 
was caught in the nut-brown beauty of her eyes, making his breath catch 
in his throat. She had no idea, Alex thought, just how lovely she is to 
me right now. How much she means to me. Now is the time to say it, 
before we lose any more time.

Alex’s gloved hand rose to cup her cheek, to stroke the softness of her 
skin. "Mary Evelyn Glynn, are you trying to say that you love me just a 
little?" he finally asked, his voice hoarse and low. 

Caught slightly off guard, Mary stared up at him. She didn’t care if the 
whole of Philadelphia society saw them or if the little girls so near 
giggled. Did he see it in her eyes, she wondered. Could he feel it in 
the way she was trembling like a schoolgirl at her first dance? That he 
had that effect on her?

She had seen him grow from a raw youth into an ambitious young clerk 
into a wiser, more Christ-centered man who had seen pain and faced 
death. And now he was asking her if she loved him. As if he had to ask!

"More than a little, Alex Miles Remington," she finally managed to 
whisper, a tear slowly spilling over and onto her cheek. "More than a 
little! But I never thought you’d want a woman’s love again…after 
Rebecca died."

I will always remember her this way, Alex thought as his heart gave a 
wrenching, wonderful flip. When we are old and gray and sitting by the 
fire. I will remember this moment, this hour…

"Perhaps once I did feel that way," Alex admitted to her. "But then I 
came home and I saw you. And somehow it seemed that God was quietly 
showing me that not only was it possible to love again…but that it was 
something I wanted with all of my heart. And I do love you, Mary. With 
all of my heart."

Then his head lowered slowly so he could kiss her, bringing to full 
circle a relationship that had begun so many years ago. And all of 
Mary’s fears and doubts evaporated like a morning mist over a meadow.

**

Alice Henderson sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap. Seated on 
a simple wooden chair in the hospital chapel, she looked up at the 
stained glass window above her.

As a child, she had not known the luxury of a church, much less the 
artful beauty of a stained glass window. As a member of the Society of 
Friends, such things were not necessary nor were they tolerated.  They 
met in each other’s homes, where the furnishings were simple and 
unadorned. 

She could remember when her wealthier neighbor Caroline Mansfield had 
returned with her parents from a journey to England. She had seen 
Westminster Abbey and its many wonders. She had prattled on about it for 
days, claiming she must have stumbled into a bit of heaven. Mr. 
Mansfield had been chided by the Friends for taking his child to such a 
place but Alice had soaked in Caroline’s dialogue word for word. 

Looking up at the glass, Alice’s eyes took in the scene. It was the 
story of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane before his betrayal 
by Judas Iscariot. The story was one Alice had heard from her childhood 
on up. She often thought of it when she was lonely or sad and received 
peace. 

"It seems so appropriate for a hospital," Alice thought. "A place where 
so many feel so alone."

A sound from the doorway caught her attention then and slowly she 
turned. Standing in the open door stood Neil, his eyes full of yearning 
and unhidden agony. She had never seen him like this before.

"Come and join me, Neil," Alice quietly said, indicating the empty chair 
beside her. "I can see thee are in need of a friend."

For a moment, Neil didn’t speak. Leaning against the doorframe, he 
thought of her words. Heaven knew she was right. He hadn’t slept in two 
days, not since Christy has slipped into the coma after her surgery. And 
he could no longer bear the silence of those four walls. Of watching her 
lie so still and quiet.

"Aye," he murmured, nodding his head. Alice saw the dark circles under 
his eyes, the weariness that settled into his broad shoulders. Ever 
since Christy had been taken back to her room, he had kept vigil at her 
side. Waiting. Watching. And praying for a change.

Dropping into the chair tiredly, Neil swept his fingers through is 
unruly curls. He knew he looked like the bad end of a dog fight but he 
didn’t care. Only the gentle prodding of Julia Huddleston had caused him 
to even leave the room. To leave the woman he loved for even a few 
moments. He had promised her he would be there when she woke up. He 
didn’t want to break his word to her.

"She wouldn’t want you to become ill yourself, Doctor," Julia had wisely 
told him, her elegant profile a soothing presence. "And I think Miss 
Alice could use some company just now."

Neil had finally succumbed, knowing that Alice had stood by him so many 
times. She must be facing her own worst fears in knowing Christy might 
leave them. 

"She’s so still, Alice" Neil murmured aloud, his eyes staring ahead. "So 
very still. But I can feel her slipping away from me, Alice. Hour by 
hour. Just slipping away."

Alice placed her hand on Neil’s shoulder, feeling the tension in the 
muscles there. "But she’s still with us, Neil. It may not seem like she 
is. But her heart and her spirit are here with us now. God has not taken 
her home. He may not choose to do so."

Sighing, Neil leaned over and buried his face in his hands. "Where is 
God, Alice? I can’t seem to find him. I keep praying…over and over. And 
yet I feel so terribly alone! And useless! Can He hear my prayers? Does 
He see what’s happening?"

He paused, looking up at her. "You’ve been at this longer than I have, 
Alice. I feel as if I’m in the bottom of a well looking up. And not a 
soul in sight to save me." He again buried his face in his hands.

The desperation in his quietly spoken words soaked into Alice’s heart. 
The poor man had seen his share of suffering and loss in his life. Was 
it only a few months ago that they had watched Margaret quietly slip 
away? Would he be able to bear it again? She prayed with all of her 
heart that he would be spared that pain.

"Knowing the ways of God doesn’t make the pain any less, Neil," Alice 
admitted softly. "My heart aches for Christy, in facing the unknown. As 
a child I so often questioned everything. Drove my family crazy. Only as 
I’ve gotten older have I learned to heed the verse, "Be still and know 
that I am God." But such a thing does take practice."

Neil drank in her words, grasping onto each one for strength and 
comfort. She always seemed so serene, so utterly calm. Even in the midst 
of a storm. How he wished he could have that peace just now.

"Neil, look up at the stained glass," Alice softy instructed, her hand 
remaining on his shoulder. "Tell me what you see there."

After a moment, Neil’s shaggy head rose and he gazed up at the picture. 
"Tis’ Jesus…and He’s praying. That’s strange…I never imagined Jesus 
praying before."

"And yet He did it often during his life on earth," Alice remarked. "The 
scene you’re looking at is Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, Neil. Do 
you remember that from the Bible?"

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Neil nodded. "Aye, when Jesus was waiting for 
Judas t’ come and hand ‘im over to Pilate. Before the crucifixion. 
I…I’ve always been amazed that He could wait. When he knew what was 
going t’ happen. Knowing it was almost over."

"Do you also remember what else happened, Neil?" Alice asked, her gray 
eyes full of warmth. "Jesus was sad because the disciples were asleep. 
He had asked them to wait up with him that night so He would not be 
alone. He needed his friends with him on that terrible night. And yet 
they fell asleep, letting him down in his hour of need."

Neil nodded, at the same time wondering where Alice was headed with this 
line of talk. His weary mind was having trouble keeping up.

"It goes to show us that even Jesus, the son of God, could feel alone 
and uncertain. The one person in all of the world who knew how much He 
was beloved of His father. Everyone around him had left Him. He had long 
known what was to happen. And yet He asked His Father to spare Him the 
horrific trials He was to face. How truly human!"

Alice paused for a moment, looking up at the picture. She wanted Neil to 
grasp what she was saying. 

"We don’t always understand the things that happen in our lives, Neil," 
she softly admitted. "I certainly don’t. I don’t understand why he 
brought Margaret back to us and then took her home. I don’t understand 
why Christy had to get sick. And now faces the fight of her life. Trying 
to understand will only make things worse. What we have to do is 
remember that God never leaves us…or forsakes us, Neil. He is there. I 
promise you that."

He nodded, looking down at his hands. "I keep trying to remember that, 
Alice. I do, I truly do. But…I’m scared. I’m scared of losing her. 
Losing Christy when it took so long for us to find each other. I don’t 
know what I’d do…"

His voice broke then and he abruptly stopped, his muscular body 
trembling with it. Alice’s heart went out to Neil, seeing the emotion so 
livid in his voice, his expressive hazel eyes. Alice gently stroked his 
hair, trying to physically soothe the beast that was wailing away inside 
of him.

"I’m going to tell thee what I told Christy once, Neil," she gently 
said. "Soon after she came to Cutter Gap, she sought me out. She was so 
discouraged, thinking she was making too many mistakes. She felt she 
wasn’t making any difference at all. I told her then to seek faith, 
Neil. And she did. That’s what I’m telling you now. Seek faith and 
you’ll never be disappointed."

Neil smiled faintly, remembering those early days when Christy had first 
come to the cove. She had been a tiny ball of fire, confident she was 
going to eradicate every problem, every obstacle in Cutter Gap within 
her first few months. He had marveled at her energy and determination 
despite his doubts.  Was seeking faith how she had dealt with the 
realization that so many difficulties took time to overcome? Was that 
how she had learned patience and received joy from the small steps? 

"Yes," he breathed, realizing how right Alice was. "Seek faith…seek 
faith!"

**

"Fairlight? Darlin’, what’s wrong?"

Jeb Spencer’s gentle voice startled his wife and she let out a soft 
gasp. She was standing at their bedroom window, staring out into the 
woods. The first rays of dawn were breaking over the mountains and her 
beautiful profile was bathed in soft light. To Jeb, she looked like an 
angel at that moment.

She turned and looked at him, now raised up on one elbow to look at her. 
"Jeb, somethin’s wrong," she told him in a voice that was determined to 
be believed. "Powerful wrong. We gotta pray. Pray hard for Christy. 
She’s in mortal danger! I jest know it!"

Jeb had been witness to his wife’s spells before and marveled at them. 
Sometimes she worried for no reason and would laugh them off. But never 
had he seen her more sure of anything than he did now. He felt that deep 
in his heart.

"Did y’ dream about ‘er? What happened?" he asked, pushing himself up 
into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes as he tried to wake up.

"She was a’ walking up Pebble Mountain," Fairlight told him, her fair 
hair tumbled down onto her shoulders. "And a powerful storm came up. 
Wind howlin’, lightnin’ flashin’. Twas downrlight awful! She done fell 
off the high turn, the one the mules can’t never take right. She was a 
danglin’ off the road, her little fingers clutchin’ on the edge fer dear 
life! Jeb, she was callin’ me! Callin’ fer help!"

Fully awke now, Jeb stood, moving over to his wife’s side. He put his 
arms about her and drew her close, trying to still the trembling that 
had come over her. She was clearly worried about the teacher, her best 
friend. She had the softest heart in the cove for those she loved.

"I know ya think I’m plumb outta my mind," Farilight murmured quietly, 
burrowing her face in his neck. Jeb was so patient with her. "But I know 
what I seen. It was so real, Jeb…so real!"

Nodding, Jeb’s gentle hands stroked her back as if she were a child. "I 
know, hon. That’s why we’re gonna do what we can. We’re gonna get on our 
knees again an’ pray fer Miss Christy. We’ll do it right here…right 
now."

And then they did just that.



Chapter: 14
Summary: Neil sits at Christy’s bedside

Chapter 14

"Neil," Ian said quietly. "It doesn’t look good."

Leaning forward in the simple straight back chair beside Christy’s bed, 
Neil didn’t even bother looking up into the earnest eyes of his friend. 
Ian was only echoing what Neil already knew. In the past 24 hours, 
Christy’s blood pressure had dropped yet more. Her breathing was 
sluggish, her color a faint bluish white. 

Like a phantom, Neil thought to himself. A pale ghost of the person she 
is. 

Neil had just sent the Huddlestons to the Simpson home to get some rest. 
They hadn’t slept a wink since Christy’s surgery and William looked fit 
to drop at any moment. George, Alex, Mary, and Miss Alice were in the 
chapel praying.

"Neil, man, do you hear what I’m sayin’?"

Neil’s bloodshot eyes lingered on the woman lying so still and quiet in 
the bed. She looked very much like a child resting there, her small, 
white hand resting limp against the covers. Her sapphire engagement ring 
was the only flash of color against the stark white of her skin, the 
sheets. Reaching out, he carefully took it into his own, tracing the 
fragile fingers, their delicate skin. How insubstantial it felt now.

"Yes, Ian, I heard what ye said," Neil finally remarked, his voice low 
and devoid of any anger or frustration that Ian might have expected. He 
was calmer than Ian had ever seen him. It was almost as if he were 
expectant…waiting for something. 

"We’ve done all we can for Christy physically," Neil admitted, his eyes 
unable to turn from the woman in the bed. He felt that if he did she 
might suddenly fade from sight. "So I’ve placed her in the only haven I 
know. In the Lord’s capable hands. And whether or not He chooses t’ take 
her home or let her remain, I intend t’ be here when He acts."

Standing at the foot of the bed, Ian closely regarded his friend of many 
years. For the last few days he had looked like a shell of a 
man…haggard, unshaven, and listless. Now he was clean shaven and no 
longer had the air of one haunted by the past and its demons. He was a 
man prepared for anything, come what may, despite his obvious fatigue. 

"Ye know I would try t’ give her blood if I could," Ian murmured, his 
voice low and strained. "Tis too new. Too revolutionary to try on her. 
In her state it could easily kill her."

"Nay, Ian," Neil countered, finally turning his eyes toward the doctor. 
"I won’t have ye jeopardizing her and ye both. Blood transfusions rarely 
ever worked during the Civil War. Killed quite a few in the process. I 
woulda ask it of ye. Not ever."

Ian did not immediately reply. He knew that trying such a risky 
procedure was far outside the bounds of medicine at this stage. Research 
was being conducted on the possible use of giving a patient the blood of 
another person to replace what was lost. It had been tried a number of 
times over the centuries. More often with fatal results. They simply 
didn’t know enough about it yet.  But Ian felt he head to at least 
mention it to Neil to gauge his reaction.

They had been friends and colleagues over the years, sharing their 
victories and their defeats. They had chosen strikingly different paths 
in life but there was a genuine respect resting between them. Ian had 
been convinced at one time that Margaret would be the ruin of Neil 
MacNeill. The man’s passionate energies and emotions had nearly burned 
him alive. But Margaret had not destroyed him. Neil had gone on to face 
his own fears and turned his life over to God, a change of life that Ian 
had hoped for but admittedly doubted ever happening. 

And what of Christy Huddleston? Over the years, Ian had watched a number 
of young, energetic patients with high hopes quickly fade from sight. He 
had seen plenty of death in his life. Pulling a wall of protection 
around his heart had been an action he usually managed to pull off.

But  somehow, Christy Huddleston had managed to get under that wall and 
cut him to the quick. He wanted more than anything to see her awaken 
from her coma and recover. Not only for Neil’s sake but for the sake of 
all that knew and loved her. For all the lives she had touched and would 
change in the future.

She would soon be turning the corner between life and death. Her time 
was running out and both men knew it. 

"Science was once the altar I worshipped at, Ian," Neil remarked aloud, 
his eyes looked up into the closing darkness of night that lingered 
outside the small window. Julia Huddleston had placed a small vase of 
lavender there that morning. It was one of Chrity’s favorite scents. 
"But no longer. She is in His care. And I’ll wait for His decision."

Ian nodded slowly, knowing there was little more for him to say or do. 
He walked over to his friend and in a loving movement, placed his hand 
on his shoulder, letting it linger there wordlessly. It was a gesture 
between friends and brothers, an avowal of support and concern that went 
beyond grand speeches and promises.

As the door shut behind the weary surgeon, Neil’s eyes unerringly 
returned to his bride-to-be. He was so tired, he suddenly realized. It 
ate into his body, invading it like an illness. The cool white pillow 
her small hand rested on beckoned to him, inviting him to rest.

How well he could remember another long-ago vigil he had held at 
Christy’ s bedside. Her first year in the cove, when the schoolhouse had 
nearly gone up in smoke. He had watched over her then, too. Had it been 
then that Neil had begun to feel that peculiarly unfathomable awareness 
that it was his role to look after her? That night he had sat at her 
side, amazed at her courage to fight the ignorance and poverty of Cutter 
Gap. Risking her life in the process.

 Her very presence had caused him to begin to ask questions he had 
stopped asking long ago. She had enraged and excited and confounded him 
at every turn. He had not let himself believe that he was slowly falling 
head over heels in love with the spunky young woman from Asheville who 
fought him tooth and nail.

With his free hand, Neil reached over and lightly stroked the softness 
of Christy’s hair spread out on the pillow. He blinked rapidly, trying 
to keep up with his thoughts. In all his life, he never felt so weary 
and worn as he did now. His body was utterly depleted of energy, of 
rational thought. Somewhere, in the transom of his heart, a voice 
whispered to him:

"Come all ye who are weary…and I will give you rest for your souls."

The voice…it was soft and gentle, beckoning him to close his eyes and 
seek rest from the rugged journey he was on. It was a verse Alice had 
read to him long ago from Matthew.  Like a subtle tug on his sleeve that 
grew stronger and would not take "no" for an answer. 

 "I promised her," he muttered, shaking his head even as he felt himself 
leaning over the bed, his rumpled hair falling onto the pillow as his 
eyes drifted shut. "Only a few seconds…I’ll only close by eyes for a 
second…"


***

"Fairlight! Help me!!!"

Desperate, Christy’s voice called out but it was nearly lost in the 
howling wind. She was clutching to the side of the mountain road, 
clinging for dear life. She dare not look back or she would surely 
plummet into the yawning darkness below.

"Hang on, Miss Christy! Please hang on! I’ll holp ya!"

 That was Fairlight’s voice! But it was coming from so far away! She 
could barely hear it for the storm that blew and moaned about her. 
Christy didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. The earth beneath 
her fingers was crumbling, dissolving into tiny particles. She scrambled 
to hold on, to keep her feet dug into the side of the mountain.

But amid the chaos, a strange music began to come to her. A sweet, 
beloved tune that she knew by heart. The wind wasn’t howling so loudly 
now. The storm was dying out. Gradually Christy began to let go and the 
scene around her faded into pure, powerful light. Gentle hands were 
lifting her up, carrying her into the unknown…strong arms were keeping 
her aloft.

Slowly, she began to understand. The high, sweet voices of the children 
were singing to her. Christy smiled as she remembered teaching them that 
song. She could see it unfolding before her as if it were yesterday:

"Tell me the story of Jesus, write on my heart every word.
Tell me the story most precious, sweetest that ever was heard…"

"That be a right nice song, Miss Christy," Sam Houston had announced, 
falling back into his seat with a happy thump as they moved away from 
the front of the classroom. "Don’t never recall singin’ it in church 
afore."

"I’m sure Rev. Grantland would be happy to hear us sing it, just as he 
did the doxology" Christy assured him as John Spencer finished writing 
the simple melody out on the chalk board. "In fact, I’ll ask him about 
it tonight."

"Reckon we can learn some more songs like that?" Little Burl asked 
excitedly, his cheeks rosy. "Shore liked the sound o’ hit. Who’d ya say 
wrote hit?"

Rob Allen nodded. He was always anxious to learn about other author 
since he had a love of writing himself. "I liked it, too, Miz Christy. 
Reckon it’s almost like poetry!"

"Exactly, Rob. The woman who wrote that song wrote many hymns," Christy 
explained. "Not only that, Fanny Crosby has written a number of poems, 
stories, and songs. My mother had the honor of meeting her a number of 
years ago at a tea in New York City."

Almost in unison, the children drew in their breath in awe. Flushing, 
Christy realized she has scored a coup. To meet someone who had written 
a hymn was indeed an honor in the children’s view. 

Leaning over her songbook, Zady Spencer looked up. "Truly, Miz Christy?" 
she asked. "Was she pretty? Was she smart?"

"Miss Fanny was very smart, Zady," Christy told her, leaning back 
against her desk. Each pair of eyes, even the mischievous Creed Allen’s, 
were riveted to her. "But Miss Fanny was also blind. She had many 
obstacles to overcome along the way."

Turning from his work at the chalkboard, John Spencer’s blonde head had 
gone up at once. "Like Miz Hattie?" he asked eagerly. 

"Yes, John, like Miss Hattie," Christy affirmed. "but in a different 
way. Miss Hattie lost her sight when she was older. Miss Fanny went 
blind as a baby but she didn’t let that stop her from going to school 
and getting a good education. She went to the New York Institute for the 
Blind, where she later became a history teacher. Her students loved 
her."

Surprised, LuLu Spencer chirped, "Even blind? How’d she do that, 
teacher?"

Smiling at her students’ astonishment, Christy told them, "She didn’t 
let her blindness stop her from doing anything. But she also had the 
support of her friends and family. Her writing was so beautiful, her 
songs so inspiring, that visitors from around the country wanted to meet 
her. She was even greatly admired and a friend of President Grover 
Cleveland!"

Elbowing his brother, Rob, Creed Allen gave a long, appreciative 
whistle. "Well, I think we need to be singin’ more o’ Miz Fanny’s songs, 
Miz Christy. If’n the President liked ‘em an all. They must be good!"

"But Miss Fanny also helped the poor and the sick, Creed," Christy 
added. "She often took the money people paid for her songs and gave it 
to those in need. With that great gift, Miss Fanny also learned 
compassion and a willingness to help others. Even when she needed help 
herself."

Christy had gone on to teach them "Blessed Assurance", one of the most 
popular hymns in the Baptist hymnal. They had taken to it with ease. 
David had been beaming with pride when they had sung it for him.

"Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine
Oh what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.

This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior, all the day  long;
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior, all the day  long."

Now the song echoed in her ears and swept into her heart, blending with 
the light. To have written such words! Fanny Crosby had fought the odds 
to become a visionary woman of compassion and wisdom.  That she could 
daily teach her children to strive for such goals was a challenge she 
daily relished. To be a potter  shaping those young lives gave her the 
strength to fight the ignorance, poverty, and disease that they lived 
amid.

My children, she thought hazily. My sweet, wonderful children. I just 
can’t leave them yet. There’s too much to do. Too many stories they 
haven’t heard. Too many songs unsung. I have to go back. I have so much 
more to teach them! I need them! And they need me! I have to stay!

And Neil. What about Neil? He needed her, too. Somehow she had heard his 
whispered prayers earlier. He had been alone so long. He needed her 
love, her companionship. She couldn’t leave him now.

The children, the music…they were fading away now. She was being pulled 
from them and Christy felt as if she were coming back to earth, her body 
settling into the bed. How long had she been gone? 

Then there was a sweet smell of lavender in the air, a gentle aroma that 
soothed and reassured her. It was real. It was concrete. She was alive. 
She was still alive…

Slowly, so slowly, Christy opened her eyes. Her eyelids felt so heavy, 
as if they were blankets across her eyes. It was difficult to breathe. 
Her throat felt so dry! Was she still in the hospital? 

The first thing she saw was Neil. He was slumped over the bed, his 
shaggy red curls so close to her fingers. His strong, powerful fingers 
were twined with hers. Poor man, she thought with regret. He kept his 
promise to be here. She wondered how long she had been asleep. It seemed 
like years. Her body felt as if it were boneless, without form.

He clearly hadn’t slept for quite a while, Christy noticed lovingly. 
There were bags under his eyes, etched deep into his skin. She had seen 
him after working round the clock, utterly spent from his efforts. She 
did not want to wake him but it was too tempting to do so. She had to 
let him know she was awake, despite the fact she felt almost too 
exhausted to take breath.

With a concerted effort, Christy lifted her hand and gently touched the 
wildly curling hair, loving the feel of it beneath her fingers. It was 
as strong, unruly, and fiery as he was. She sent up a prayer of thanks 
to God for allowing her to stay behind to teach the children…and to 
marry Neil.

A smile crept into his lips, slowly but surely. "Sweet lass," he 
whispered, as if in a dream. "My darling Christy…my bonnie one…"

Attempting to clear her throat, Christy let out a weak croak. It was a 
low sound, hardly audible but Neil heard it. This was no dream. Blinking 
rapidly, he jolted up from the bed. Was something wrong? What had 
happened? Then his eyes fell on the bed and he went utterly still.

Dear God…she was awake!

For a moment, Neil was paralyzed, his body frozen and his throat choked 
with shock. The most beautiful sight in the world rested before his 
eyes. The clear, brilliant blue of his beloved’s eyes were shining up at 
him, a weak smile playing about her lips.  Christy!

"N…Neil…" 

The single word fluttered from her dry, parched lips but it was almost 
like a shout to Neil’s aching, hungry heart.  She was alive! She hadn’t 
left him. God had let her stay! The pair of eyes he had never thought to 
see open again were resting on him like twin blessings of love and 
peace.

A choked cry was jerked from his lips and he leaned over her, his 
shaking fingers gently as he brushed the loose curls from her damp 
forehead. He wanted to gather her up into his arms, to cradle her close. 
But she was in no condition for that.

"Oh Christy!" he cried hoarsely.  He couldn’t hide it from her. "I was 
so worried. You’ve been in a coma for four days now. Thank God…thank 
God, you’re awake!"

"Four…days?" she whispered slowly. No wonder he looked so weary! He had 
promised to stay with her until she awoke. And he had.

"Hush now," he soothed, kissing her eyes and then her cheeks. Then his 
mouth found her lips and lingered there for a long moment, as if to make 
certain she was alive. That she was his. "Don’t say another word.  I’ve 
got to fetch Ian to have a look at you. T’ make sure ye’re going t’ be 
alright."

But the look in her eyes wouldn’t let him leave. Not now.  He took her 
left hand in his and held it in both of his, sitting on the edge of the 
bed. "Christy, we got the tumor," he told her, unshed tears brimming in 
his eyes. "But you started to bleed unexpectedly. We managed t’ stop it 
but that’s why…you were asleep so long."

Christy’s sluggish thoughts turned to her parents, to Alex and Mary. 
"Mother…" she whispered, trying to speak. She closed her eyes from the 
effort it took and Neil’s finger on her lips silenced her effectively. 
She was wearing herself out.

"Christy, you must lie still and not say another word," he ordered in a 
low , controlled voice. "Ye’ve come out of a coma. Ye have to rest, to 
keep quiet. There’s plenty o’ time t’ talk later."

The doctor in Neil was speaking now and Christy smiled. She  knew he was 
right but she had so much to tell him, so much she wanted him to know. 
With what little strength she had, Christy tugged their joined hands to 
rest over her heart. Opening her eyes, she looked up into Neil’s hazel 
eyes, and mouthed the words she longed to speak. He had no trouble 
understanding her.

Neil leaned over and kissed her finger where his engagement ring rested. 
As he rose up, he saw a single tear travel down her cheek. With infinite 
care, Neil kissed it away. Dear God, how close it had been. How close he 
had come to losing his beloved Christy. The realization swept over him 
and his breath caught in his throat.

"I love you, too, little one," Neil whispered brokenly, burying his face 
in her neck as he began to weep in relieved joy.

**

Back in Cutter Gap, as the fire crackled in the hearth of the mission 
house, Fairlight Spencer rocked peacefully. LuLu had fallen asleep in 
her lap. Rose was playing a hymn at the piano, low and sweet.

Sitting at the piano with Rose, David watched her in silent wonder. She 
seemed so at ease, so relaxed.  How did she do it? How could she look so 
calm?

Looking up, the elegant mountain woman caught the preacher’s gaze and it 
held there for a few moments. Then a knowing smile played about her 
lips. "She’s gonna be fine, Preacher," Fairlight murmured as LuLu let 
out a soft snore. "I jest know it. Don’t you fret none."

Rose, still playing, didn't speak. Just last night Fairlight had told 
them about her vision. She’d been pacing and fretting all day. Only in 
these last evening hours as she awaited Jeb to come for her and Lulu had 
she become calm and peaceful.

Coming out of the kitchen with a mug of hot coffee, Ruby Mae stopped by 
the front door to peer out. The night was quiet and the mission house 
yard was bathed in moonlight. Surely somebody would call tonight. Call 
them and tell them Miz Christy was better. They just had to!

"Thanks for the coffee, Ruby Mae," David remarked, jolting the teenager 
out of her reverie. She scampered over to David, who took it from her. 
"And I must say that dinner was quite delicious also."

"Even though I done nearly burnt up th’ biscuits?" she asked hesitantly, 
her wide eyes begging for approval. Rose had been teaching Ruby Mae how 
to cook over the summer with encouraging results.

"I know your mind was on other things," David gently assured her. "We’ve 
all been preoccupied. It’s natural to worry about Miss Christy. The 
venison stew you fixed was the best I’ve had in some time. I promise!"

Beaming with pride, Ruby Mae’s did a little dance of joy. "Thank ya, 
Reverend! Don’t that beat all! I may be a good cook someday yet!"

Before anyone could reply, the telephone rang loudly. David jumped up 
off the bench, racing Ruby Mae and Rose for the phone. His long legs 
made it an easy victory. 

All the occupants in the room waited behind him with inheld breath. Even 
little LuLu woke up, rubbing her eyes tiredly. All the grownups were 
acting plumb crazy again. And the music had stopped. Miss Rose had been 
playing that song she liked so much. That Miz Fanny song!

A jubilant smile broke out over the preacher’s handsome young face as he 
heard Miss Alice’s excited voice telling him the good news. Beaming, 
David turned to his friends and his eyes fell on Fairlight. His own 
faith had been weak. But Fairlight’s had faced the test and won the day.




Chapter 15

“Class is dismissed, children,” Christy announced, smiling with much relief. 
“You can go home now!”

The usual whoop of joy arose quickly and there was a rush of feet and hands 
as the children moved into the aisle. Christy never failed to marvel at the 
acuteness of her students’ hearing when it was time for the day to conclude. 
It was more faulty when she called them in from recess or a spelling test 
was imminent.

Rubbing her neck tiredly, Christy moved over to the blackboard to erase the 
math problems the children had attempted earlier in the day. The sound of 
her shoes crossing the boards of the schoolroom echoed in the stillness.

This was one of her favorite times of the day, she thought. When the 
classroom was quiet and peaceful. When she was able to relax and ponder over 
things the children had done and said during the day.

“I really should scribble some of this down on paper,” she thought absently. 
“One day someone might want to know what happened in this little corner of 
the great, big world.”

She was almost finished with her task when she felt something tug lightly on 
her skirt. She turned away from the blackboard to find Lulu Spencer 
patiently waiting for her, an earnest expression in her dark brown eyes.

Kneeling so she could talk to her student face to face, Christy asked, “What 
can I do for you, Lulu? Is your mother working at the Mission House today?”

Nodding, Lulu’s braids bobbed as she replied. “Yessum, she is. But that 
ain’t why I’m still here.”

Inwardly, Christy grinned. All of the children were dear to her heart for 
various reasons. They had such unique personalities and ways of expressing 
themselves. Sometimes they spoke without words entirely. But Lulu held a 
special place due to her no-nonsense nature, a rarity for one so young.

“What is it, Lulu?”

Lulu was silent for a moment, her small fingers grasping her school paper 
almost nervously. She was choosing her words carefully. Then a slow grin 
spread over her face and she spoke.

“I…I just wanted you to know I’m glad you’re still okay, Miz Christy. We 
missed you…a terrible lot while you was gone.”

Something broke within Christy’s chest, flowed warmly through her heart as 
the child’s simple words sank into her soul. It had been almost a month 
since she had returned to the Cove, recovered from her dangerous surgery. 
The children had swarmed around her that first week, so unaccustomed to her 
presence after being gone so long. It was as if they feared she might 
suddenly vanish from the schoolroom. They would unconsciously reach out and 
touch her for no reason at all.

Christy had thought that she would easily slide into her teaching routine 
after returning to Cutter Gap, that the children would take for granted that 
she was back. Time moved so quickly for children. But it was moments like 
this that told Christy that they had not forgotten, that they had worried 
about her greatly.

Cecile Scott had happily handed the teaching role back over the Christy upon 
her return. She and Dan would be having their first child in eight months 
and the morning sickness was hard for her to bear. Cecile sometimes came by 
in the afternoons to assist with reading lessons with the younger children, 
but she was glad to have her mornings free.

Impulsively, Christy pulled Lulu into her arms and hugged her close. “Thank 
you, Lulu,” she softly told her, feeling the child’s soft hair against her 
cheek. “I’m glad I’m better, too. I missed you and the other children very 
much. Your pictures helped me to get better quickly.”

Lulu pulled back a few moments later, a little embarrassed at having her 
teacher make a fuss over her. She blushed a little and glanced out the door, 
seeing that Zady was hovering there, waiting for her.

“Reckon I oughta go now, Miz Christy,” she said, turning away from her. “See 
ya tomorrow!”

As Christy stood, she watched with amusement as Lulu’s small feet flew. Her 
students were always a source of fascination and contrasts for her. At 
times, they acted as wise as little old ladies. And at others, their 
carefree spirits were as untamed as a rumbling river. It was an enchantment 
that allowed her to overlook some of the more demanding aspects of her job, 
to see the bigger picture of what her efforts were bringing about in their 
lives.

Her own life had moved so quickly since she had awoken from her coma. She 
had not remained in Philadelphia long, wanting to be back in Cutter Gap and 
to allow Neil to return to his patients. He had proven to be a rather 
stubborn nurse, monitoring every aspect of her recovery. But Christy had 
endured it because she knew he loved her and only wanted to see her well 
again.

Their return to the cove had been almost triumphant, she thought, as she 
gathered up the geography books. The reality of her ever awakening had been 
so remote. Many people in the Cove claimed she was a walking miracle, that 
surely God must have wanted to keep their young teacher alive. Christy only 
knew she was more grateful than she could say that He had given her the 
opportunity to return to those she loved most. To see the sun rise on God’s 
Fist on a misty autumn morning. To ride Buttons down a rambling trail 
through the woods. To lift her face and feel the mountain breeze caress her 
cheek like a loving mother. Those were the joys she thanked God for every 
day.

A knock at the door caused her to look up. Standing in the doorway was yet 
another Spencer. But this was not one of her students. It was Fairlight, 
looking almost like a mischievous child ready to go on an unplanned 
adventure. Christy knew that look and felt her pulse race.

“Miz Christy, you been mindin’ them young uns all day long,” Fairlight 
remarked, her fine eyes dancing with life. “Reckon you can leave this book 
learnin’ behind for a ramble with an old friend?”

Christy reached for her coat and her lunch bucket, leaving her grade book 
and papers behind for a change. For once, they could wait where they were. 
This was more important.

“What about Least ‘Un and Lulu?” Christy asked, pulling on her gloves. “Do 
you have time to go?”

Fairlight chuckled. “Child, I gotta make me the time or I’ll be as sour as a 
rotted ole apple at the bottom o’ the barrel. The young ‘uns are helpin’ the 
Reverend groom the horses. Zady’s with ‘em, too. Then Jeb’ll be by to take 
‘em home. We ain’t talked in quite a spell, gal.I done told Miss Alice we 
was goin’.”

Christy grinned, feeling curiously like one of her students let out for 
recess. And here she was, supposedly all grown up! “Then I think it’s time 
we remedied that. Let’s get going before Ruby Mae pulls me into the kitchen 
to help her with dinner!”

Soon the two women were making their way to the haven they referred to as 
their special place. Christy’s heart warmed as her feet tramped over the 
leaves and twigs. Autumn in the Smokies had to be one of the most beautiful 
seasons in the world, she thought. The blaze of colors was a palette of 
reds, yellows, and oranges that never failed to thrill her heart. For a 
short time, the mountains were literally “on fire” with color. Soon the 
leaves would be gone and winter would be bearing down on them again.

As they settled on the rocks to look out over the mountains, Fairlight 
shivered slightly in her coat. “Reckon we ain’t gonna stay too long today, 
Christy. It’s been getting’ cold and dark a lot sooner. But it’s been too 
long since we done had a chat.”

Christy nodded, glad that they had come. There would be few opportunities to 
come up here after school in the weeks ahead. She would be helping the 
children prepare for their Christmas pageant and grading end of term essays. 
There was much to be done and little time to do it.

“You remember the last time we was here,” Fairlight quietly said, looking 
almost sly as she did so. “I recall askin’ you some questions that day.”

Christy could not help laughing softly at her friend’s remark. Oh, what a 
day that had been! So much had happened. Just after she had realized how 
much she loved Neil, she had found him down at the stream, holding Margaret 
in his arms. Then David had given her his ring, turning her entire world 
upside down. And how unhappy she had been, how torn.

“I told ya then everything would be alright now, didn’t I?” Fairlight asked, 
twirling a dry twig between her fingers. “And they did!”

Christy nodded, closing her eyes as she felt the wind blow over them. Up 
here on the rocks, she could believe almost anything Fairlight said. It was 
a magical place unlike any other, where thoughts of the world did not 
intrude. You could almost believe that you were the only person alive, 
perched up on top of God’s highest peaks.

“You were right,” Christy murmured. “But I still have to pinch myself 
sometimes to believe it. That day we were here. You must have thought I was 
such a child, not knowing the truth for myself. About Neil, that is.”

Fairlight shook her head. “You’re a right hard headed gal sometimes but I 
reckon I am, too. Takes us a little longer t’ see things that’s right’n our 
face. I knew it’d come to ye.”

Christy hugged her knees, thinking how long ago that day seemed. And the 
weeks that had followed. Leaving the Cove to stay with her family and 
feeling as if she were slowly going mad, wondering if her heart would ever 
mend. It seemed like another time and place.

“Now when are you and Doc gonna get yerself hitched?” Fairlight asked, 
moving a little closer to her on the rocks. “Ya been home ‘bout a month or 
more. What’re ya waitin’ for, girl? Someone to light a fire ‘neath ya both?”

Christy grinned. “You do have a way of always getting to the point, 
Fairlight. I guess that’s why we’re such good friends. Neil’s busy getting 
caught up with his patients. That influenza outbreak in Cataleechee scared 
everyone, you know. He’s still trying to see everyone that he neglected when 
that happened.”

But Fairlight did not look convinced. “Never thought that’d stop Neil 
MacNeill when he wanted somethin’ bad enough. Why don’tcha tell me the real 
reason, Christy?”

Her eyes sweeping the majestic vista that lay below, Christy pondered the 
question. It was true that neither she nor Neil had spent much time 
discussing when they would marry. Returning to the Cove and their respective 
tasks had taken all of their time and energy. On top of that, a friend of 
Ian MacDougal’s had contacted Neil to ask him to write an article about his 
most recent trachoma research. The article was to be published in the 
National Eye Review, a prestigious medical journal published in New York 
City. It was quite an honor and Christy was bursting with pride that her 
fiance had been chosen.

The only problem was that Neil had rarely had the time to write anything. He 
had been on the go since their return. The article was due in a few weeks 
and Christy had encouraged him to spend as much time as he could on 
completing it. That meant she hardly saw him at all.

But Christy knew that many people in the Cove were wondering the same thing 
that Fairlight was. Ruby Mae reminded her of it almost daily, in her own 
unique way. Not to mention Ben Pentland. Her own mother had written to her 
last week, demanding to know what arrangements were to be made. Julia 
Huddleston was a planner and she liked everything to be completely organized 
and in order.

“Mary and Alex are in the process of sending out their wedding invitations, 
Christy,” her letter had said. “It would truly be a delight to know when my 
own daughter is going to become Mrs. Neil MacNeill! What on earth am I to 
do?”

Christy had not pressed Neil to set a date. She knew she ought to do so in 
order to have the task done. But she had her own private reasons for not 
wanting to hurry.

“Christy?”

Christy glanced at her friend, saw the concern in her eyes. Fairlight never 
failed to see beyond the surface, to know when something was hovering 
slightly on the horizon. Was it her sixth sense that gave her the gift, 
Christy wondered. Or was it simply the sensitivity of a loving heart that 
enabled her to delicately ask the question? At the moment, the answer did 
not truly matter. Only that her friend did care enough to ask.

“Fairlight…it’s hard to say this properly…I’m not sure I can,” Christy 
admitted softly, toying with her gloves as she did so. She could feel her 
engagement ring snugly underneath the fabric.

“Just say it, child,” Fairlight gently encouraged. “Ain’t no right ‘r wrong 
way to hit.”

Christy took a deep breath and slowly released it, felt it ease from the 
bottom of her lungs to the top of her head. “Fairlight…Neil hasn’t been a 
Christian for very long. It happened when Margaret was ill.”

“I recall that,” Fairlight murmured. “Go on.”

Christy struggled to find the right words to describe her feelings. “Then 
Margaret died. He had to bury his wife, the woman he thought he would be 
married to forever. Then he found out I was sick. He had to watch me go 
through surgery, to handle everything that happened…after that.”

Fairlight nodded, watching as her friend tried to explain. She had known 
something was not quite right for the past week, had silently watched 
Christy go for solitary walks until dinner time. And Neil dragging in on the 
rare occasion to tell them about his patients. The man practically lived in 
the saddle these days. Such goings on was not conducive to a happy 
courtship. Even she and Jeb had spent more time whispering and holding hands 
as a young couple.

“How can I ask him to dive into a marriage after all that?” Christy asked, 
finally saying what had been on her mind for days. “He has so much to do. 
His work keeps him so busy. He didn’t even have time to give the children 
their science lesson yesterday. And that article is so important. Neil 
rarely gets any recognition for his research. I want him to have that.”

Moving over to sit beside her friend, Fairlight put her hand on Christy’s 
shoulder so that she would look up. “But what about you, Christy? Neil loves 
ya. I know he does. Every gal deserves a little courtin’, especially you. 
After all the mess Miz Margaret caused, pardon my sayin’ so. It’s no wonder 
you two are in a dither. Ya hardly know which way is up.”

Christy nodded, relieved that someone understood. She had been afraid that 
her thoughts were unnatural and selfish in some way. To hear that Fairlight 
understood gave her great comfort and relief.

“Neil hasn’t been a Christian very long, Fairlight,” she added. “He’s been 
studying the Bible with David, reading it every chance he gets. I am so 
proud of him, watching his faith grow and mature. How can I ask him to make 
room for me amid all that?”

Fairlight’s hand lightly squeezed her shoulder. “I reckon you be thinkin’ 
that if ya say anything to him, he’ll be reminded of his wife. That you’d be 
naggin’ on him. Like she did. Believe me, child, I remember what it was like 
when she was here. Afore she left the first time. ”

“You understand,” Christy breathed, hardly able to believe it. “I…I thought 
I was crazy for thinking it. I couldn’t bear it if Neil thought I was…I was 
like that. I want him to be free to do what he wants, to study, to treat his 
patients…to be himself.”

Fairlight smiled, not at all surprised that her friend’s thought had turned 
in this direction. The selflessness of the young schoolteacher was something 
she had come to admire over the months they had been friends. She so often 
put her own feelings on the backburner for fear of trampling on someone 
else’s.

“Christy, lemme tell ya something. Who do you think helped Neil to see 
Jesus? You! I reckon he saw what ye did to help the young ‘uns. Saw how ya 
loved on ‘em and gave up your fine things in Asheville. If that ain’t God’s 
love, I don’t know what is. Before you, he kept his heart locked up and his 
feelins’ a secret. Don’t think you kin say that now, can ya?”

She paused, considering her words in much the same way Lulu had. “His 
feelins’ fer you and fer Miz Margaret is as different as the dawn and the 
dusk, gal. I seen the way he looks at ya. Reminds me o’ Jeb when we was 
courtin’. Darn near saw him dumpin’ a whole thing o’ sugar in his coffee one 
day watchin’ ya walk across the Mission House parlor. And that was afore his 
wife ever come back!”

Christy giggled at the picture Fairlight’s words painted and it happily 
dissolved the serious air that had descended over them. How she wished she 
could have seen Neil do such a thing! In former days, he had always seemed 
so sure of himself. All doctor and all man at the same time. Not lovesick in 
any way.

Fairlight’s eyes gleamed with happiness. “Now that’s what I like t’hear! 
Good bit o’ laughter does the soul good. Now we’d best be headin’ back afore 
you catch your death o’ cold. Then Neil McNeill’d be in a fine state indeed, 
wouldn’t he?

As the two women made their way over the rocks to the path that headed back 
down the mountain, Christy looked back over her shoulder. The sun was 
beginning to make its descent over the colorful hills. Its lambent light 
softened everything, make it shine and shimmer.

“Thank you, God, for a friend like Fairlight,” she prayed before turning 
back around. “May I never take her…or You…for granted."





The Narrow Path – Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I am not trying to seek fame, fortune, or advertising 
endorsements from my writing. Catherine Marshall’s estate holds the rights 
to the Christy story and I am only a humble imitator of that art.

Summary:  Fairlight enlightens Neil on an important issue.

*****

“Won’t ya sit a spell, Doc? Reckon it ain’t gonna be gittin’ no warmer today 
and I got some sweet potata pie that’ll make yer mouth water.”

Neil looked up from his saddlebags and considered the invitation. Fairlight 
Spencer’s cooking could have taken every blue ribbon at a county fair, had 
she ever entered one. While he knew he ought to be heading back to his cabin 
with darkness soon to fall, Neil’s stomach loudly make up his mind for him. 
He could already taste the sorghum honey she used to sweeten it.

Before he could even speak, Fairlight nodded knowingly and headed to the 
kitchen. “Figured ya might see things my way. Least ‘Un, go on now and see 
what yer Daddy’s up to. He might need yer help.”

The little boy needed no further urging and scrambled out the door. He had 
scraped his arm on the barn door that afternoon and when Neil had passed 
through, Fairlight had asked him to bandage it up properly for her. He 
suspected, however, that there was more to her request than medical 
assistance. She had been binding up her children’s wounds for years now 
without his help. Resourcefulness was one of her most sterling qualities. 
Why had she suddenly needed him to do it for her?

At the moment, Neil did not truly care. He was too tired and hungry.

Neil settled into the chair beside the fire, tossing his saddlebags beside 
him. He had been burning the candle at both ends and he deserved a rest. 
Sitting at the fireside of an old friend and childhood playmate was 
something he simply could not turn down today.

His eyes took in the sight of the sparsely furnished but clean, tidy cabin. 
It had to be the most welcoming one in the Cove aside from Alice’s, he 
thought. Fairlight had truly done wonders, making curtains out of feed 
sacks. They could have come from Knoxville, they were so artfully done. A 
colorful quilt hunt on one of the walls in a tapestry-like fashion, a 
testament to her handiwork. Compared to his rather Spartan cabin, Neil hoped 
that Christy would add such homey touches to their home after they were 
married.

Fairlight soon returned with a plate, fork, and a cup of hot coffee. Neil 
gratefully took the offered treat and rapidly entered a culinary paradise. 
He had not tasted anything so good in weeks. The flavor lingered on his 
tongue like a blessing.

“Fairlight, are you sure you’re wantin’ to stay married to Jeb?” he 
eventually asked lightheartedly. LuLu was at the table, drawing a picture, 
oblivious to their conversation. Zady and John were helping their father 
outside. “Because this pie alone could convince me to take you away wi’ me!”

Laughing, Fairlight took off her threadbare apron, shaking the flour off of 
it as she did so. “I reckon you’d be takin’ on my young ‘uns, too. ‘Fraid 
Jeb might not be able to handle bein’ a momma and a daddy at the same time. 
Want some more coffee?”

Neil nodded, slowly savoring the sweet dessert as it melted on his tongue. 
“Thank you. Well, I suppose ye could bring them as well. I’ve plenty of 
room. If I wasn’t engaged to Christy, I’d happily offer a room to Jeb as 
well. He’s mighty handy and I’m not the most talented man with a hammer or 
nails.”

Fairlight swept up his empty cup and refilled it, thinking of the time she 
had told Christy that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. 
True, the pair had ended up scrapping like two ornery cats in a burlap sack 
as a result. In those days, they had done more arguing than anything else. 
But Fairlight knew that the moment was ripe to bring up what she’d been 
thinking about since she and Christy had taken their walk a few days ago.

She handed Neil the worn but clean tin cup and returned to her seat at the 
table, making an effort to look relaxed and casual. “Doc, I reckon there’s 
plenty you know, havin’ got all that book learnin’ in Scotland. But there’s 
plenty my man knows how to do. He could teach you a thing ‘r two, that’s fer 
sure.”

Neil thoughtfully chewed, his sharp mind quickly beginning to hum with 
activity. Fairlight looked innocent enough but he had known her since their 
school days together. She had always been shrewd, he had to admit. He could 
easily recall how she had talked Bob Allen out of the crisp, juicy apple 
nestled in his lunch pail for nearly a week. So what was she up to now?

“I can agree with you on that account,” Neil remarked, intrigued. “I would 
be like a bull gallopin’ amid fine China, movin’ among all those hives he’s 
got. Not to mention gettin’ his honey t’ market. But as I don’t plan on 
tradin’ medicine for the honey business, I think I’ll get by all right.”

Fairlight nodded, aware of Neil’s enigmatic demeanor. The man was on to her, 
no doubt about that. Well, she’d waded into the pond now. No use in turning 
back when she was already half in, even if she did go under. Christy 
deserved some courting and Fairlight was determined that she was going to 
get it.

“Naw, don’t think he’d be too pleased to have any competition,” she calmly 
said, pulling a bowl of pecans over to her. Opal had brought them over 
yesterday. They were ready to be cracked. “But there IS somethin’ Jeb was 
mighty good at that you could learn from.”

Taking a slow sip of hot coffee, Neil watched her carefully, noticing how 
graceful her hands were as she began cracking the nuts. Now he was truly 
fascinated. He could hardly wait to see where her line of thought was 
headed. Putting down his coffee cup, he cut a bit of pie with his fork as he 
glanced over at her.

“Fairlight, why don’t you go ahead and tell me what that is. I’m quite 
curious to know in what area you find me so sadly lacking.”

Fairlight cracked a nut, pulling the insides out of the remains of the 
shell. She took her time with the task, wanting to make sure she made her 
point properly. This was not a subject to hurry with.

“Let me speak plain, Doc,” she began stoutly. “I’m talkin’ about courtin’.”

Neil, who had been about to take a bite of pie, halted his fork in midair. 
It hovered near his mouth, not quite making its target. Fairlight bit back a 
smile at the doctor’s obvious surprise. She had truly shocked him, a rare 
feat indeed.

After a moment, with a measured lack of haste the fork slowly lowered and 
landed with a soft clink on the tin plate. Putting the plate aside, Neil 
moved his chair forward and leaned over his knees. His hazel eyes flickered 
with energy and curiosity.

“Did you say…courting,…Fairlight?” he finally asked, his voice low and very 
quiet. “I want to make certain I heard you properly.”

“Ye heard me just fine,” Fairlight responded gently, enjoying every moment. 
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with yer ears. Ain’t no burs stuck in ‘em.”

Neil nodded slowly and settled back in the chair, folding his arms over his 
brawny chest. His long legs were thrust out in front of him, boots crossed 
on the old rag rug. It was the characteristic pose of a mule-headed man 
prepared to do verbal battle, she realized.

“I thought that’s what you said,” Neil remarked almost grimly. “Now suppose 
you tell me why y’ think Jeb could possibly assist me in so personal a 
matter. Have the two of you been discussing my lack of manly charms? Please 
enlighten me, Fairlight.”

Fairlight continued cracking the pecans, stacking the nuts in a tidy pile as 
she did so. But it was a hard business when she wanted badly to burst out 
laughing. The man was truly  stubborn when he chose to be, even after his 
acceptance of Christ. But she had long since learned that a stubborn nature 
was a fairly prevalent trait in men. Jeb surely could be and Neil was no 
different.

“Ain’t said nothin’ to Jeb about hit,” she told him, her eyes clear and 
bold. “But I ain’t blind. Been watchin’ ye ride that poor horse over these 
mountains at all hours. Seen ye draggin into th’ mission too tired to even 
talk. Don’t reckon you’re doin’ much good to Christy like that, do ye?”

Fairlight never pulled her punches, that was for certain, Neil realized. 
They sure did pack a wallop when they landed. Her words, measured and softly 
spoken as they were, had a swift impact on him.

“Aye, it’s true I’ve been very busy,” Neil answered in a neutral tone, his 
face giving away nothing. “Catchin’ up with my patient load takes time. Not 
to mention the influenza in Cataleechee. Would you be wantin’ me to neglect 
them? Or your little ones, Fairlight?”

Shaking her head, Fairlight glanced at Lulu and saw that she was still 
engrossed in her drawing, her small feet slowly moving back and forth under 
the bench.

“Don’t reckon I said that, Doc. But that Dan Scott be itchin’ to do some 
more doctorin’. He’s a good hand and ye trained him up fine. Not to mention 
Miss Alice been spendin’ plenty o’ time ‘round the mission house. Weather’s 
kept her grounded. I be thinking that yer shoulders could stand unloadin’ a 
bit o’ that burden ye been totin’.”

Neil didn’t respond right away but looked away, gazing into the fire. He had 
been working very hard. Denying that was futile. But that was what he was 
accustomed to. It had helped him survive when Margaret had returned. And 
during the time he had not known of Christy’s illness. It had become so 
ingrained in him that he knew little else.

When he wasn’t riding from cabin to cabin, Neil had also been working on the 
article for the eye journal, wanting to include as much information as 
possible. If he wrote it well enough, some warm-hearted donor might 
contribute some financial support to his research. That would be invaluable 
to his work and press him closer to finding a cure.

And it was true that he had spent little time alone with Christy. He tried 
to make certain she wasn't overdoing it at school or at the mission. She had 
made a good recovery and tried to follow his orders, despite her impetuous 
nature and giving heart. But he knew that Alice, not to mention David and 
Rose, kept an eye on her as well. When they did talk, it was usually about 
his many medical cases or something one of the children had done or said.

Suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps it wasn’t Jeb that Fairlight had 
talked to but Christy herself. The two women were close friends. Had she 
said something to Fairlight about it?

As if reading his mind, Fairlight stood and moved toward him to pick up his 
nearly  empty plate. “And no, Christy ain’t said a word t’me. Not her way. I 
know ye think I’m a Nosy Nellie but that gal’s special. Had to say 
somethin’to ye…”

Neil knew Fairlight was being sincere. Christy was not one to share her 
problems. She was good at keeping everything to herself. He hoped to remedy 
that over time. But Fairlight had obviously noticed something he had 
overlooked.

“Well, I was at the mission house last week,” Neil slowly murmured, trying 
to remember if he had been able to visit Christy alone. No, he had come over 
to enjoy some of her fried chicken after church. With Rose’s help, she had 
been trying her hand at cooking recently and had clearly improved since 
their fateful meal beside the river.

He had teased her a little about his hope that they would not receive a 
surprise visit from his old enemies, Sal Monella or Gus Trikinosis. Christy 
had swatted him with a dishtowel but had been laughing as she did so. Then 
he had left to make certain Joshua Hartman’s broken arm was mending 
properly. Had that been the last time they had talked? It couldn’t be that 
long ago…

“You was there but did ye talk to Christy alone?” she asked, her hand on her 
hip. “Did ye go walkin’ with her down by the pond? Maybe bring ‘er a purdy 
fall leaf? Offer to go ridin’ wi’ her? Or did ye just fill yer gullet and 
get goin’?”

Unconsciously running his fingers through his unruly red hair, Neil stared 
down at the floor, mulling over her questions. He hadn’t done any 
“courting,” as Fairlight termed it, since he had first known Margaret so 
many years ago. And he hadn’t done it very well then, come to think of it. 
He had been a poor medical student with empty pockets. They had married so 
quickly, so hurriedly. Had he ever brought her flowers, Neil wondered.

Fairlight didn’t say anything, knowing that her words were slowly hitting 
home. She didn’t enjoy making Neil uncomfortable but the man needed to hear 
it from someone. He might be hardheaded but he wasn’t stupid. He would soon 
try to mend his ways if it was the right thing to do. The abstracted look on 
his face told her so.

Neil finally looked up, regarding Fairlight with a less obstinate 
expression. But not a happy one. “Very well, then. What if it’s true? That I 
haven’t been acting the role of ardent suitor. What are you suggestin’ I do? 
We are engaged, Fairlight. She’s promised to be my wife. What more courting 
can I do? She’s been wooed by some of the finest men in Asheville, no doubt. 
What did you have in mind?”

Men! Rolling her eyes, Fairlight walked away from him and placed the plate 
beside the sink. Perhaps the doctor’s head was thicker than she thought. For 
a brawny, charming man, Neil McNeill was lamentably slow about his own rich 
Scottish heritage. Christy had shown her some of the poems written by Robert 
Burns, who had a silver tongue if there ever was one. Surely Neil had some 
of that romancing spirit in him somewhere. He could be so gentle, so caring 
with the children.

“Doc, that gal done come through some mighty tough times,” Fairlight 
remarked quietly, but firmly, revealing to Neil just how much Christy meant 
to her. “Ye know that good enough. She works hard with them young uns. Don’t 
suppose ye’d think o’ stoppin’ by to go fer a moonlight stroll. Maybe leave 
‘er a note on ‘er books afore school. If ye was nice enough, I might even 
help ye cook a nice dinner for ‘er. Ifn ye asked me nice.”

Despite his gruffness, Neil could not help himself. He could feel his 
resentment beginning to fade bit by bit. Christy would be his wife soon. And 
God’s word commanded him to love her and honor her as the unique woman she 
was. If he could not do so properly now, before their wedding, then he was a 
sorry excuse for a mate.

“I seem t’ recall you teachin’ the children some o’ your Highland games,” 
she added, glancing at Lulu. “I be thinkin’ you got some nice, purdy poems 
stashed away by some other Scottish fellas. And that Victrola of yours, 
don’t guess you been crankin’ that up lately. I always like it when Jeb 
plays his fiddle. Love that purdy music. Makes my heart go all soft.”

For a moment, the strange humor of the situation struck Neil. Never in his 
life could he have seen himself sitting in the Spencer cabin discussing 
courting techniques! He was accustomed to being the one who dispensed advice 
and it was a rather uncomfortable experience to have the tables turned on 
him so expertly.

But Neil didn’t speak as the awareness continued to dawn on him. She was 
right. Ever since he and Christy had returned to the Cove, he had been 
throwing himself into his work, his article, and Bible study. He had simply 
been so happy she was alive, that she wasn’t going to leave him that he had 
not thought about their future at length.

At night, Neil had spent time reading the Bible, drawing great wisdom from 
it. He wanted to be the Godly husband Christy needed, to seek the scriptures 
for guidance. It was going to be their road map and he wanted to be as 
familiar with it as he could.

He and David had been studying the Bible together just last week and had 
come to a verse, Matthew 6:33, that had stood out: “Seek ye first the 
kingdom of God and His righteousness. And all these things shall be added 
unto you.”

Neil had asked David if that meant he must focus all his energies on 
following Christ and doing his will, regardless of his duties.

“Yes, I think that’s what Jesus intended in part by this verse,” David had 
said. “But look at that verse again. It says “seek ye first” not “seek ye 
only.” It’s vital that we make Christ our focus and our guiding light. But 
not to the exclusion of everything else. We have to live a balanced life.”

Neil had leaned over the worn McNeill family Bible, almost perplexed. He had 
been finding that with many scriptures he needed to slowly digest the words, 
meditate over them to understand their meaning. Then the clouds would slowly 
recede and he would begin to make sense of it.

“I don’t understand,” Neil had finally said. “We seek him first but we 
don’t?”

“We are to always seek Him first,” David had amended. “That’s what Jesus 
said. But I think He also meant that we cannot ignore those around us or 
other aspects of our lives that make us the people we are. And when you 
think about it, that makes sense. In loving others, in sharing our lives 
with them, caring for them, we share the love of Christ. And that is the 
most important commandment in the Bible.”

Now as he took in the truth of Fairlight’s observations, Neil concluded that 
he had not been doing that. Christy did need him to be a strong man of 
faith. But she also needed proof of his affection. She deserved all the 
sweet words, music, and quiet moments alone that her feminine heart longed 
for. He knew she would not have asked for such things herself. She did not 
have a demanding or complaining bone in her body. It was up to him to 
initiate that.

Fairlight Spencer, he marveled, you wise woman. You knew it would take this 
to make me see sense. Even if you nearly did have to hit me over my hard 
head with a frying pan to make your point. This was such an important time 
in their relationship. A nurturing, loving time when their dreams and plans 
were still whispers in the moonlight. She needed to know she was treasured 
and cherished, the woman he loved with all of his heart.

“Reckon ye could start by settin’ a date fer your weddin’, Doc,” Fairlight 
was saying, running a loving hand over Lulu’s hair. “Preacher might even 
stand up for ya.”

Her words unintentionally sent Neil crashing down from his reverie. The 
wedding date! He hadn’t even talked to Christy about setting a time and 
place for what would be the happiest day of his life! No wonder Fairlight 
had used such tactics to get his attention. Christy must be secretly 
wondering if he would ever get around to it.

Ach, man, he thought darkly. You deserve a good switch to your hide. You 
don’t deserve Christy Huddleston. She’s much too good for a foolish man like 
you.

As if somehow sensing his deep unhappiness, Lulu pushed aside her drawing 
and scrambled down from the bench. She tugged on his flannel sleeve 
insistently and unabashedly looked up into his face.

“Doc, you feelin’ okay?” she asked intently. “Ye’re lookin’ a mite poorly 
now.”

Unable to resist, Fairlight laughed out loud, her eyes dancing with mirth. 
Joining in her mirth, Neil scooped up the little girl and placed her on his 
knee, laughing as well. Lulu grinned widely, happy she had made her mother 
and the doctor smile again. The mood in the room had gotten entirely too 
gloomy. Grownups were much too serious, she decided.

“You’ll make an excellent doctor someday, Lulu,” Neil finally said, wiping 
his eyes after a moment or two. “An excellent diagnosis indeed. Although I 
suspect your mother might give you a few tips. She seems to be doing better 
than I am these days.”

Fairlight blushed slightly. “Didn’t mean to overstep myself, Doc. But ye 
been fixin’ up my young ‘uns hurts for so long. I’m obleeged to ya. Couldn’t 
let ye stumble around in the dark forever, now could I?”

Shaking his head, Neil stood, holding Lulu in his arms as he did so. One 
day, he hoped, he and Christy would have a little girl like Lulu. That meant 
he was going to have to learn to alter his work habits to accommodate a 
family. He did not want his children growing up with a phantom father who 
was wed to his work, not their mother. Margaret had suffered enough from his 
absences. He did not want Christy to have to endure it as well.

“Thank you, Fairlight,” Neil quietly said, his eyes conveying his gratitude 
more than the simple words. She accepted it, nodding with a small smile. She 



Chapter 17 (I SWEAR!)


*****

It was entirely too quiet.

Looking up from her grade book, Christy’s curiosity got the better of her. 
Recess was always a time of loud laughter, games, and plenty of noise. But 
the schoolyard seemed awfully quiet just now. That was not a promising sign.

With a determined motion, Christy closed her grade book and stood up. She 
needed to stand up and walk about as it was. Truth be told, she could use 
some fresh air. And to find out what sort of mischief her students had 
gotten into.

As she noiselessly stepped just outside the schoolhouse doors, Christy 
caught sight of the children around the corner beside the building. To her 
amazement, they were standing together in a group. Their attention was 
riveted on Creed Allen, who was wearing what appeared to be Rob’s coat.

Despite the fact they had been folded over many times, the sleeves were too 
long for Creed’s arms. A white handkerchief was tied about his throat, 
indicating he was playing the role of preacher. He looked to be taking his 
task very seriously.

Were they playing funeral again, she wondered. It was a common game among 
the children but usually it was the younger ones who played it. But everyone 
seemed to be involved today. Even Lundy Taylor had lost his usual scowl and 
was watching with Orter Ball O’Teale, leaning against the side of the 
schoolhouse. Then as her eyes took in the strange scene, Christy realized it 
was not a funeral…but a wedding.

Standing side by side before Creed were Sam Houston and Becky O’Teale. But 
Becky’s head appeared to be covered with yet another handkerchief, playing 
the part of the bride. In her hands was a makeshift bouquet of dry weeds. 
Sam Houston looked decidedly uncomfortable in his role as groom, fidgeting 
as he stood there. Christy wondered how on earth he had been talked into 
doing it in the first place. He must have lost a bet of some kind.

“Dearly beloved,” Creed intoned, dramatically beginning the ceremony. “We 
are gathered here, in th’ sight o’ God Almighty and all these onlookin’ 
folk, to join these two lovin’ souls in awfully wedded matrimony.”

Many of the children stifled giggles, nudging each other excitedly. Ruby Mae 
was glancing over at Rob, a rather lovesick look on her rosy face. Biting 
back a smile, Christy leaned against the doorframe to watch the drama 
unfold. She knew she probably shouldn’t be allowing such a thing but she 
could hardly wait to see what happened next.

“We come b’fore ye, Lord, askin’ ye to put yer blessin’ on this here 
deservin’ couple. We know yer lookin’ down on ‘em and wishin’ the Doc and 
Teacher much gladness. And so does this mighty fine congregation!”

Roused out of her relaxed pose, Christy gulped painfully as she heard Creed 
continue with the ceremony. The children were pretending it was her wedding!

Creed, holding a Bible aloft, looked sternly at Sam Houston. “Doc, I’m 
hopin’ ye brought a ring with ye. Didn’t drop it while ridin’ over all 
creation, didja? I knowed ye been busy doctorin’ an such.”

But Sam Houston shook his head swiftly. “Nah, I didn’t forget it. Here 
‘tis.”

Whispering among themselves, the children crowded closer as Sam Houston 
fumbled in his pocket for the “ring.” It was a piece of bailing twine 
fashioned into a ring, a little big for Becky’s small finger. Christy was 
amazed at the trouble someone had gone to in order to make it. Evidently her 
wedding was an object of great fascination for the children. She had never 
considered it before.

Ruby Mae, standing on the edge of the group, looked furtively from side to 
side. Vella Holt elbowed her and she moved over to whisper something into 
Creed’s ear. But he brushed her suggestion aside, shaking his head in 
disdain. “Don’t need no singin’, Ruby Mae. Ain’t nobody can sing like Miss 
Hattie. Ain’t worth even tryin’.”

Sam Houston broke in impatiently, “Let’s get on with hit, Creed! Times a 
wastin’!”

“Pipe down, Doc, we’ll get to the shivaree soon enough, I reckon,” Creed 
told him benignly and Christy nearly choked. What did Creed Allen know about 
shivarees?! The boy was already too precocious for his own good. What had 
Rob been telling him? The very thought of it made her go somewhat weak in 
the knees.

But as the “couple” shifted restlessly, Christy’s heart softened a little. 
They had probably been bullied into taking the roles, both having rather 
easygoing natures. But she had to admit they looked adorable as a miniature 
bride and groom.

Creed plunged on into the vows portion of the service. “Now Doc, you got 
some promisin’ to do. You ready?”

Nodding solemnly, Sam Houston stepped a little closer to Becky, who was 
holding back a giggle. The other girls were also holding back their 
excitement.

Clearing his throat loudly, Creed straightened his “collar” and drew his 
small body up into a polished, poised stance. He looked so amazingly like 
David when he had performed Ida’s wedding to Clarence Sweetwater that 
Christy had to keep herself  from visibly starting. She did not want the 
children to know she was watching.

With that, the long-awaited "promisin'" commenced:

“Doc, do ye promise to let Teacher keep comin’ to learn the young ‘uns every 
day?”

“I reckon I do.”

“Do ye swear t’ be nice to ‘er, even when she tells ya you misspelled a big 
word?”

“I reckon I do.”

“Do ye promise ye won’t scrunch up yer face when she fixes somethin’ bad to 
eat fer supper and swallow it anyway?”

“Huh? Oh…I guess so.”

“Do ye swear to keep yer mouth shut when she wears them funny pointed shoes? 
And when she sings?”

“I reckon I do.”

“Do ye swear to be sweet on her fer all yer live long lives?”

To this, Sam Houston’s face flushed a fiery red and the children giggled. He 
clutched his hat and scratched the ground with his shoe nervously. He was 
going to take Creed behind the schoolhouse after class and give him a wallop 
or two. The things he let himself get talked into…

“Awright, that’s enough, Creed. Get on with hit!”

Looking satisfied that he had tortured poor Sam Houston long enough, Creed 
nodded and turned to Becky with an anticipatory look. She was his next 
victim.

“You ready, Teacher?”

Becky nodded quickly, pulling her makeshift “veil” back a little so she 
could see him through her glasses. She handed her “bouquet” to Zady and 
awaited Creed’s questions.

“Teacher, you swear to let Doc go on wi’ his doctorin’, even when he’s gone 
all night?”

“I will.”

“You promise t’ let ‘im go on huntin’ fer arrowheads wi’ Sam Houston?”

Becky paused before glancing at her groom then answered, “I reckon so.”

“You promise not to make fun of ‘im when he gets ornery and don’t make sense 
when he
talks cause o’ that accent he done got in Scotland?”

At this Christy had to bite back her laughter, amazed at the children’s 
grasp of their personalities. They were far too observant than she gave them 
credit for. She wondered how they would act when her real wedding ceremony 
took place. That gave her yet another reason to feel somewhat unsteady on 
her feet.

“You swear t’ not give them young ‘uns too many history tests no more?”

Becky shot Creed a sharp look at this and he sensed he had overstepped 
himself with that request. Becky loved history and had no desire for that 
part of school to be cut short because of Creed’s dislike of it. He wisely 
moved on.

“Do ye promise to be sweet on ‘im even though he can’t hit a baseball worth 
a lick?”

As Becky nodded, Christy felt tears rising to her eyes, she was fighting so 
hard not to laugh. She was almost biting her lip to shreds with the effort. 
Neil would absolutely die if he witnessed the ceremony she was secretly 
spying on.

Creed seemed finally satisfied that he had gotten enough vows out of the 
fidgety couple. “Awrighty then, spit on the ground to seal it up good and 
tight, you two. Don’t want to be havin’ no bad luck.”

They obeyed his command faithfully, then waited his next instructions. Creed 
seemed clearly delighted, rubbing his hands together in a very un-preacher 
like fashion. He loved playing to a crowd and next would come to best part 
of his performance.

“Now lay a good kiss on ‘er, Doc!”

Sam Houston took his hat off and threw it on the ground in disgust. His 
patience had been pushed past its frail limits. “Ya didn’t say there’d be no 
kissin’! Yuck!”

Christy wisely decided it was now time to end the impromtu ceremony before 
another feud was born in the Cove. Then she truly would have her hands full 
and Neil’s work would never be done.  “Children! It’s time to come in now!”

Their heads bolted up in surprise as they realized their teacher was 
watching. Becky hurriedly yanked the handkerchief off of her head and Sam 
Houston looked clearly relieved. Christy could not help smiling at their 
expressions. They looked as if they had been spared a terrible fate.

After the children had clambered back into the schoolhouse and taken their 
seats, Christy stood at the front of the room with her hands behind her 
back. The children instantly stopped talking or moving around. They knew 
that stance from experience. Teacher was planning on talking in her 
“serious” voice.

“Now, children,” she began quietly. “Suppose one of you tell me what exactly 
was going on out there today. Am I right in thinking that you all were 
holding a mock wedding ceremony? My wedding to Dr. MacNeill?”

Creed, who knew he was probably in for a royal scolding, hung his head 
glumly. He wouldn’t get to see Scaliwag for a week if his Paw heard about 
it. And no doubt he would. Rob would likely squeal on him.

“Yes’m, we were,” Zady finally spoke for them, her voice trembling slightly. 
“We…we didn’t mean no harm, ma’am. No disrespect neither.”

Christy’s eyes wandered over the many faces in her classroom. She could tell 
that Zady was right. Nothing they had said outside had been cruel or mean 
spirited. They had so few social outlets, she thought sadly. A wedding was a 
major event in the cove. Ida’s marriage to Clarence was still talked about 
with reverence and excitement. It was little wonder they were aping what 
they had seen that day. And expected from her and Neil.

“Children, I’m not angry at you,” she told them honestly, her voice calm and 
steady. “But I am very curious. Why does my wedding to Dr. MacNeill interest 
you so much?”

Ruby Mae was literally frothing at the mouth to answer that question. “But 
Miss Christy, you ain’t told nobody when yer gonna marry the Doc! Ain’t you 
never getting’ hitched?”

“Yeah, Miss Christy, we been waiting forever since ye came back,” Creed 
chimed in, grinning. “Did Doc get cold feet, ye reckon?”

Inwardly, Christy’s heart jolted at the unintentional blow Creed had dealt 
her with his words. But she did not allow it to show in her face. It was 
time to get back to their studies. They had spent far too much time 
discussing her personal life.

“That’s enough, Creed.”

She walked across the room slowly, gathering her wits. She was going to have 
to put an end to the gossip and guessing for good. It was causing the 
children to be distracted from their studies and she couldn’t have that. And 
she had to admit it wasn’t doing her much good either. She was simply going 
to have to talk to Neil about it.

After a few moments, she turned back to face the class, who were waiting as 
if she were about to recite some important poem or dramatic verse.

“Children, Dr. McNeill and I will be married when the proper time comes. 
There is no…cold feet. That’s all I need to say to you. So there will be no 
more “weddings” during recess. When the Doctor and I decide when our wedding 
will be, I can promise you that you will be among the first to know. Does 
that satisfy your curiosity?”

They nodded silently, even Creed. He knew better than to say anything more 
or he’d truly be standing in the corner for the rest of the day. Miss 
Christy sure was nice but she could get kinda ornery when she was angry. 
Today was not the day to test that limit any further. Not when he was 
supposed to go fishing with his father tomorrow.

“Now let’s take out our math books and work on our multiplication tables. 
John, will you please pass out the books?”

*****

"Did Doc get cold feet, ye reckon?"

As Christy walked up the hill, Creed’s words echoed unerringly in her mind. 
Try as she might, they would not leave her alone. No matter how hard she 
fought to drive them out.

The sound of dry leaves crunched under her boots as she strode on, not even 
noticing where she was going. She had dismissed the children early, sensing 
that it was best thing to do. She hated when she had to sound stern with 
them. They were good children on the whole. They were just being children by 
expressing their fascination and curiosity. If she were honest with herself, 
Christy knew they had probably practiced more restraint than she had 
expected.

Christy knew that Rose and Ruby Mae would be wondering where she was. But 
today she simply didn’t care if it got dark and they worried. She needed 
time to think of what she was going to say to Neil. How she would broach the 
subject of their wedding date.

The wind was a bit sharp today, she noticed as she crested the hill. It was 
getting colder by the day. Thanksgiving was not far away and soon the fall 
harvest would be underway. By God’s grace, it would be a better one that 
last year. There would be food on the table in Cutter Gap for the holiday.

As Christy continued willy nilly down the path through the forest, she 
puzzled about what Creed had said. Was Neil getting cold feet? Was that why 
he was working so hard and spending so little time with her? Was he afraid 
to tell her that he had made a mistake? He was a man of honor, true to his 
word. He would never go back on a promise. Maybe the question was not so off 
the mark as she had thought.

“Christy, quit being so silly,” she told herself, shaking her head as if to 
chase the bad thoughts away. She was letting Creed’s joking remark get the 
better of her. It was ridiculous to see trouble where there was none.

“Neil loves me,” she told herself firmly. “How many men stay up day and 
night when you’re suffering from a terrible illness? How many men put their 
career on hold to make sure you're taken care of? You’re wearing his ring, 
for goodness’ sake! He proved his love for you. Quit expecting so much.”

Her feelings were eased somewhat as she came out at a parting in the tress. 
She was curious to see where she had ended up. It was not uncommon for her 
to find herself lost or coming upon a place she had never been before. It 
was how she had met Aunt Hattie.

That’s when she suddenly realized she had come out into the clearing where 
Margaret’s grave was situated and halted in her tacks.

Margaret. Margaret Seabohn Henderson McNeill.

For a moment, Christy stayed where she was, her eyes softening in memory of 
the woman who had been Neil’s wife. She now remembered Miss Alice telling 
her where the grave was at but had never seen it. Now she had unerringly 
stumbled right on it. The irony of it was not lost on her in that moment. In 
trying to puzzle out Neil, Christy’s feet had lead her to the one person who 
had known him better than many.

The air seems so still, Christy thought, as her eyes fell on the simple 
headstone. As if the birds, squirrels, and other forest creatures knew to 
still their chatter and activity. In reverence of the life that had been 
lived by the free-spirited but troubled young woman. The afternoon sunlight 
was beginning to fade, but its light percolated through the branches, the 
brilliantly colored leaves.

She finally moved, slowly walking over to stand beside the grave. Gently, 
Christy brushed away the stray leaves that had fallen on the top of it. Had 
it only been a few months, she wondered. She could vividly see Margaret’s 
beautiful face, her dark, silky hair and full mouth. The woman’s vivacity 
and spirit had seemed unquenchable. As if they transcended the bonds of 
earth.

Alice had told her about Margaret’s final hours. How she had quietly but 
sincerely accepted Christ as her Lord and Savior. But it was not that image 
that Christy had of Margaret, that she remembered most. It was her beauty, 
her courage, her zest for life and to survive that blazed forth like a 
flame. Christy had no difficulty in seeing why Neil had found her so 
attractive and quickly fallen in love. What man wouldn’t?

Kneeling beside the grave, Christy’s gloved hands lightly traced her name. 
Their last moments together had not left her. Margaret holding Neil beside 
the river, her face a portrait of complete joy and relief, cradled there in 
his muscular arms. It did not hurt Christy to think of it now, for she knew 
that Neil had not returned that love any longer. That he had embraced her 
out of pity, out of a desire to help Margaret in some way.

The look on Margaret’s face that day had told Christy then that the woman 
had never stopped loving Neil. That she had indeed discovered that he was 
worth fighting for.

She could feel a strange brand of kinship with Margaret in loving Neil, 
Christy mused thoughtfully. Yes, Margaret had loved Neil, although she had 
abused and mishandled that love. Had hurt her husband with a childish 
carelessness that was difficult to forget. But she had loved him and made an 
attempt to mend their marriage. Christy had to give her credit for 
swallowing her pride and returning to Cutter Gap. To a place she had so 
disliked and to face a mother she had long been at odds with.

“Would I have done it?” Christy wondered, her gloved fingers lowering slowly 
from the inscription. “Would I have faced the condemnation and gossip? To 
try to win him back after all that time had passed?”

She wondered what Margaret would think if she knew about their engagement. 
Would she be pleased? Upset? Or feel nothing at all?

Before she could ponder the question any further, she heard the sounds of 
someone approaching from the forest and quickly rose up, dusting off her 
coat. Was it Alice? Or perhaps Neil? She found her heart began to pound 
loudly in her chest as she squinted to get a look.

It was a rider on a strong chestnut gelding, she realized. It was snorting 
and pulling at the finely tooled reins. The horse was too well bred and 
bridled to belong to someone who lived in the Cove. The man must be lost or 
traveling to another town. He wasn’t a mountain man, that was for certain.

She could not make out the man’s face at first as he ducked under a low 
hanging oak branch. His wide-brimmed hat was tugged low and blocked her 
view. He drew his mount to a halt and swung himself surefootedly down onto 
the leafy ground.

“Can I assist you, sir?” Christy asked quickly, beginning to move to the 
edge of the clearing. “Are you lost? The main trail is some distance back. 
You must have lost your way.”

The young man was carefully pulling something from his saddlebags, she 
noticed. His coat was coal black and very fine, indicating his wealth. 
Tailored and not homemade. Or patched. Then she realized there was something 
familiar about his hat, the tilted way it sat on his fair head. He spoke to 
her over his shoulder, his tone light and cultured.

“I think not, Miss Huddleston. I believe I know these woods much better now 
than I did when I first visited the Cove some months ago. I’ve found just 
what I was looking for. The resting place of an old friend, that is.”

Then as he moved away from his horse and swept off his hat in a gallant 
fashion, Christy’s heart nearly stopped beating. She instantly recognized 
his face.

It was Theodore Harland. And in his other hand was a bouquet of white lilies 
for Margaret’s grave.

***


Chapter 18

Summary: Neil finds out about "the wedding" and Christy confronts Theodore 
S. Harland.

**

“Hello? Anybody home?”

Rose Campbell, elbow deep in apple peels, looked up from her work long 
enough to wonder what she was going to do about letting Dr. McNeill in. For 
once, Ruby Mae was not at her side asking questions or making comments. She 
was outside helping David bring in some much needed firewood. It was going 
to be difficult to open the door under such circumstances. That left her 
with few options.

“I’m in the kitchen, Neil!”

Fortunately, the doctor had grown accustomed to letting himself in and had 
little trouble locating Rose. Stepping into the kitchen, he immediately saw 
her predicament and grinned widely as he leaned on the door frame.

“It appears y’ have your hands quite full, Rose. Glad I let m’self in. The 
kitchen is the place you’ve come to call home, is it not?”

Rose nodded with a light smile, holding up a paring knife. “Your assumption 
is correct, Neil. But I enjoy it so much, it’s no hardship to me. Especially 
when I’ve got good apples like these to work with. They arrived in El Pano 
this morning and David brought them in a few hours ago.”

“El Pano?” Neil echoed, taking off his thick coat and hanging it on a peg. 
“Have the mission’s coffers improved to th’ point you’re orderin’ fruit from 
out of town? Are you preparing lobster for supper?”

Chuckling, Rose shook her head as she picked up the bowl containing the 
remaining apples and a dish towel to spread over her lap. “Not exactly. Come 
follow me into the parlor while I finish peeling these apples and I’ll 
explain. You will join us for dinner, I hope?”

Neil took off his hat and gloves, felt the warmth of the room seep into his 
body. The day was turning cold as the sun was going down and it felt good to 
be near the fire. Not to mention the prospect of eating a home-cooked meal 
prepared by Rose. She was fast becoming a cooking legend in the Cove. He 
could hardly wait to see what she did with a Thanksgiving turkey when the 
time came.

“They were a gift from Alex Remington and Mary Glynn,” Rose told him as they 
both sat down. “Seems the apple harvest in Asheville was a bumper crop this 
year and Ms. Glynn saved some for us. What a blessing!”

“That’s very generous of them,” Neil agreed. He had been enjoying a warm 
correspondence with Alex since their time together in Philadelphia. The 
juicy apples were indeed fresh and appetizing as Rose began to peel them. 
“What are you making with them?”

“Well, Christy knew they were arriving soon and asked me to hold a few back 
so she can make a pie for you, of course,” Rose remarked, winking. “But this 
lot is going into a streudel I’m making. It’s a recipe from my mother’s old 
family cookbook and I can’t wait to try it out.”

“I hope I get t’ sample some of that streudel. And a pie just for me?” Neil 
repeated, then chided himself. He was beginning to sound like one of the 
children with his echo. “Truly now?”

Her fingers working with care, Rose slid the knife skillfully under the 
thick peel. A long ribbon slowly unfurled into the bowl, spiraling down. 
Neil could remember watching his own mother do such a thing, how it had 
fascinated him. She had had gentle hands like Fairlight.

“Well, it’s no secret that you’ve been working night and day lately,” Rose 
commented, her eyes on her work. “And you can’t be getting much in the way 
of good meals. Christy told me she wanted to do something a little special 
for you. And she has gotten very good at baking pies. Not to mention the 
biscuits we had this morning. Even David’s been pleased and he’s got the 
most finicky palate in the Cove.”

Neil didn’t answer right away. He had been doing a great deal of thinking 
about his fiance ever since his talk with Fairlight. It had shaken him to 
the toes of his boots to think that he might have been neglecting her. But 
he would remedy that if it was the last thing he did. Unfortunately, Minnie 
Sanders in Raven Gap had needed him to deliver her premature baby and he had 
been gone for the last two days. He had decided he would ask Alice to do the 
follow-up examination. The Cataleechee School had closed for the harvest a 
few days ago and she would have the time.

“Has Christy come down from the schoolhouse yet?” he asked hopefully. 
Perhaps if she was still there he could walk her down the hill and enjoy 
some time alone with her. To be a couple and not a teacher and a mountain 
doctor. Fairlight’s concept of courting indicated that simplicity was the 
order of the day and he intended to do what he could to make up for lost 
time.

Rose shook her head, picking up another apple. She knew if she took her eyes 
off her work for even a moment she would be in trouble. “I’m afraid not. And 
I think school ended early today. You might ask—“

Rose’s words were cut off as the front door flew open and admitted Ruby Mae, 
who looked very pleased with herself. Bits of bark clung to her coat and 
scarf, proof of what she had been doing.

“Done brung in all that thar wood ye wanted to the side porch, Miss Rose,” 
she announced proudly. She then saw the Doctor and smiled broadly. “Howdy, 
Doc! Ain’t see you n’ a coon’s age!”

Smiling, Neil admired the rosy hue in her cheeks. “I suppose that would 
depend on the age of the “coon”, now wouldn’t it? Have you seen your teacher 
since school let out, Ruby Mae?”

Closing the door firmly behind her, Ruby Mae began to unwind the striped 
scarf around her neck. It felt good to have her hands free again. “Ain’t 
seen ‘er, Doc. I reckon she went off by herself. After what we done at 
recess today, it’s a wonder she ain’t in a whirl.”

Rose stopped peeling and looked up from her work, surprised. Ruby Mae had 
not mentioned anything about it when she had come in from school. “Did 
something happen in school today to upset Christy, Ruby Mae?”

Ruby Mae realized she had stuck her foot in it, literally, and flushed from 
shame this time. She slowly began to unbutton her coat, her eyes lingering 
on the large buttons. “Well…I reckon you could say that, Miz Rose. We didn’t 
mean no harm. And Miz Christy said she weren’t mad at us. But she did let us 
go early today. Saw her headin’ up the rise toward the piney woods, not far 
from the McHone place.”

Neil’s interest was piqued and he stood up. It was going to be dark soon and 
if Christy wasn’t riding Buttons, she would be returning to the mission in 
the darkness. And he didn't like that one bit. But if she was headed for 
Opal’s, it was likely she would stay for supper and Tom would ride her back 
himself. He had to learn to quit worrying about her so much. She was a grown 
woman, as she often reminded him.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Rose suggested gently, her own 
curiosity rising.

Seeing that she now had two pairs of adult eyes focused exclusively on her, 
Ruby Mae sensed that there was no getting out of it. Better to do as Miss 
Alice often said and spill it all. She hung her coat up on the nearby peg 
that was hers and came fully into the room.

“We was playin’a game at recess, y’ see,” she began carefully, wondering how 
she was going to explain the mock ceremony. The Doc was known to lose his 
temper from time to time. Not like Miz Christy, who was now fairly 
accustomed to their occasional high spirits. “And I…well, don’t think she 
liked it none when she caught us.”

Folding his muscled arms over his chest, Neil regarded her intently. “And 
what kind of game were you all playing? Did one of the older boys start 
teasing one o’ the little ones? Was Lundy Taylor involved? Was anyone hurt?”

“No, sir, weren’t nothin’ like that a’tall,” Ruby Mae assured him quickly, 
her voice high picthed and nervous. Her fingers were unconsciously toying 
with her braids. “It was Creed’s idea, y’see. He…he thought it would be 
fun…to play like…like we was havin’ us a weddin’.”

Now Rose was truly fascinated. Putting aside her bowl of apples, she watched 
Neil lean closer to Ruby Mae. Neil had seen the children playing various 
games during his visits to the school. He had even seen Creed or Little Burl 
acting as “minister” at mock funerals, the other children wailing in their 
role as mourners. Not to mention the lucky child who played the deceased!  
But he had never witnessed a wedding.

“Why were you and the children playing wedding, Ruby Mae? And why do you 
think it bothered Christy?”

Ruby Mae’s eyes were now focused on her shoes, unable to look the Doctor in 
the face. Oh dear me, she thought. I am gonna catch it fer shore now! Why 
did I have to come in here?

“We…we was pretendin’…it was...your weddin’ to…Miz Christy, Doc. Sam 
Houston…well, he agreed to play your part…and Becky O’Teale…she was standin’ 
in as Teacher. Creed was doin’ up the job o’ Preacher. It was right good fun 
at first. Listenin’ to the promisin’ an all.”

Neil could scarcely believe what Ruby Mae was telling him. The children had 
actually participated in a mock wedding ceremony, imitating him and Christy? 
He had to admit it was extremely creative and ingenious. And to picture 
Creed acting in the role of David would have been high comedy, indeed. But 
he could well imagine Christy’s reaction, that she would be less than 
pleased.

Neil was also aware that Ruby Mae was dreading his reaction and put his hand 
lightly on the teenager’s shoulder to indicate he was not angry. She slowly 
looked up, wary.

“Ruby Mae,” Neil quietly said in that voice he often reserved for his more 
anxious patients. “I’m sure Christy told you the truth when she said she 
wasn’t angry with you. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me. Did she talk 
to you and the children about it afterward?”

Feeling somewhat relieved that the Doctor wasn’t going to fly into a rage, 
Ruby Mae nodded. “She shore did. When we asked her when she was gonna get 
hitched to ye, she said we’d be first to know hit…even after Creed done said 
ya got cold feet n’ all.”

The color rapidly drained from Neil’s face at her last words. “Cold feet? 
Did Creed say that?”

Unconsciously, Ruby Mae confirmed his worst fears. “I reckon he did. He was 
jest teasin’ Teacher. We done went on with our math homework then. She 
didn’t say no more ‘bout hit. But we…we all been wonderin’ ‘bout hit, Doc. 
When you and Teacher are gonna tie the knot n’ all.”

Rose wisely stepped in then, knowing how surprised Neil must be. He did not 
need the talkative teenager in his face at that moment.“Ruby Mae, why don’t 
you take these apples into the kitchen and finish peeling them for me? I 
know you could use the practice. And don’t forget to wash your hands first.”

Ruby Mae was more than willing to leave the room and the stunned look on the 
Doctor’s face. He didn’t look like he was feeling too good, she mused as she 
took the bowl of apples and the knife from Rose.

“I meant to ask you what took you and David so long to bring in the wood,” 
Rose said as an afterthought. “Is he in his bunkhouse getting ready for 
supper?”

“No’m, he’s in the barn givin’ the horses their dinner,” Ruby Mae reported. 
“We was late ‘cause Preacher saw some hoof prints he didn’t recognize. They 
weren’t nothin’ like Prince’s. Nor Buttons or Goldie, ma’am. Fancy shoes, he 
said. But he said to tell ya he would be here soon.”

The teenager then made a speedy exit into the kitchen. Rose watched Neil 
carefully, deciding he might need some help. The man looked somewhat 
bewildered.

“Neil, are you allright?” Rose gently asked.

He nodded slowly, trying to process what Ruby Mae had unwittingly told him. 
“Yes, I’m fine, Rose. Just---somewhat surprised. Is it true what she says? 
That the Cove people are speculating about---about my wedding t' Christy? 
Please tell me. I need to know.”

Rose knew this question was going to be directed at her and dreaded having 
to answer it. Poor Neil, she thought. He truly hadn’t realized that it had 
become a topic of much debate in the Cove. He was so preoccupied with his 
work that he hadn’t heard the stirrings of gossip that Rose had. It was 
something men so often were unaware of.  Save Ben Pentland, who seemed to 
know everything about everyone.

“I suppose it HAS come up,” Rose admitted weakly, her hand resting on the 
back of her chair. “But you know how people are, Neil. Especially in a small 
community like Cutter Gap. They grasp on to even the smallest bit of news 
and work it over until it hardly resembles the truth any longer. I know they 
whisper about David and me, if we're ever going to get married.”

Remembering how Bessie Coburn’s falsehood had almost gotten Christy fired 
from her teaching position, Neil knew just how damaging supposedly 
“harmless” gossip could be. Some of the older Cove women could be like 
rather like old tabby cats, somewhat mean spirited and sour. He did not like 
to think that his actions had exposed her to their gossip. Fairlight had 
said nothing about it but Neil now sensed she had subtly tried to do so.

Neil nodded, his eyes dark.  “Yes, I know that quite well, Rose. But that’s 
about to change…if I have any say so in the matter. I’ve got to find out 
where Christy is before it grows dark. It’s getting colder out there and she 
needs to be indoors. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Keep a plate warm for 
Christy, will you?”

As she watched him quickly reached for his coat and hat, Rose asked 
teasingly, “And one for you as well, Neil? It's not lobster but my beef stew 
is still pretty tasty.”

Grinning briefly, he nodded, as he tugged on his gloves. “Thanks, Rose.”.

**

Meanwhile, Christy had come fact to face with Theodore S. Harland.

“Surprised to see me, Miss Huddleston?” Harland asked, quirking a knowing 
smile as he did so. Christy had seen that smile enough times before to know 
how false it could be. He used it to charm people into giving him what he 
wanted. “I suppose my return to these fair mountains is somewhat unexpected. 
But I was hoping for a warmer reception from you than this.”

Realizing that her mouth was literally agape, Christy quickly shut it. But 
she could not stop staring at the handsome young man before her. He looked 
much the same as she had seen him all those months ago, sitting on the piano 
bench beside Margaret. Smoking a cigarette and gazing at his companion as if 
she were a lovely Italian painting. Only now he was alone.

“I apologize for my surprise, Mr. Harland,” Christy finally said, trying to 
sound as adult and serious as she could. But her voice shook slightly just 
the same. “I was simply not expecting to see you here…of all places. At 
Margaret’s grave.”

“I imagine it is a bit strange,” Harland agreed, looking down at the bouquet 
of lilies in his hand. Christy wondered how he had gotten them in the first 
place, being that it was autumn. They must have come from an expensive 
flower shop in Knoxville. That was the only way. “But I could not rest until 
I returned to Cutter Gap to pay my respects. I only heard of Margaret’s 
death a few weeks ago, you see.”

Christy regarded him with intense suspicion. “That’s quite diverting, Mr. 
Harland. And I have little doubt Margaret would appreciate your devotion. 
But I seem to recall you left Cutter Gap in something of a hurry with no 
intention on returning.”

Harland actually seemed to pale a little at her words and Christy felt 
somewhat chastened. The man had done nothing to hurt her personally. But he 
had committed an unforgettable crime by gaining the trust of her friends and 
trampling on it in his quest to steal their mountain music. In this matter, 
Christy had to side with her mountain friends.

Harland’s fingers clutched at the flowers almost convulsively as he looked 
toward the grave. “I would never have published that music as my own, Miss 
Huddleston, whatever dire thoughts you or young John Spencer might have had 
at the time” he remarked quietly. “But I know that to defend myself in your 
eyes is irrelevant. I will not attempt to do so now. I wanted only to pay my 
respects to Margaret and not disturb the kindness of the good people of the 
Cove.”

Christy was not fooled for an instant. Men like Harland did not do anything 
without a selfish motivation. There was more to Harland’s simple visit than 
he was letting on. And she intended to find out exactly what that was before 
he again caused trouble.

“As I recall, you live in Atlanta, Mr. Harland,” she slowly said, tugging at 
her gloves. “You’ve come quite a long way to honor an old friend. And find 
her grave. Do you intend to remain in the area long?”

Harland’s green eyes gave away little but Christy could see that he was well 
aware of her hostility toward him. “I shall not be seeking refuge at the 
Mission House, if that is what you are concerned about,” he answered, moving 
closer to the tombstone. “I would never presume on the kindness of its 
residents, knowing how unwelcome I am there. I arrived here two days ago and 
have been reacquainting myself with the lovely flora and fauna.”

Christy’s feelings played an impromptu game of tug of war, pulling her in 
two directions. Part of her wanted to tell Theodore Harland to make a swift 
exit from Cutter Gap and to follow him out herself, making sure he did so. 
The other part of her chastised her for not allowing the man to pay his 
respects to Margaret. They HAD been friends. How close she did not know.

He did not speak for a moment, his eyes taking in the inscription and the 
condition of the grave. He gently placed the flowers on top of the 
tombstone, his fingers lingering on the cold stone briefly as he did so. 
Christy remained silent, wondering if she ought to leave him where he was. 
It was fast growing dark and she did not want to end up wandering home in 
the shadows. David would be so angry at her for not watching the time. Not 
to mention Neil. But Harland’s quiet words stopped her.

“She was a beautiful woman. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Huddleston?”

Christy closed her eyes for a moment, as if willing herself to conjure up 
the image of Margaret’s face. She could see the dark eyes, full of sardonic 
laughter. The curling lips, painted red. The fashionable clothes. The 
graceful white hands. Everything feminine. But at the same time, Margaret’s 
beauty had possessed an almost earthy nature to it, warm and fiery. The kind 
that made a man want to reach out and grab hold of it for his own.

“Yes, she was, Mr. Harland,” Christy murmured. “Very few would say 
otherwise. Least of all me.”

Christy turned away then, now wanting to discuss Harland’s memories of 
Margaret. She did not want to think of how they had met or what kind of 
relationship they had shared. It had happened some time ago and Margaret had 
come to see the results of the poor decisions she had made. That was what 
mattered most.

She heard him shifting and moving toward her. “It’s growing dark, Miss 
Huddleston,” Hardland remarked. She could smell the aroma of his city 
cologne, musky and hinting of wine. It clashed with the simple clean smell 
of the pines around them. “Perhaps I could give you a ride part of the way 
to the mission house? I would never forgive myself if I allowed you to 
fumble about in the dark trying to find your way because you tarried here 
with me.”

Christy looked up at him then, saw the sadness lingering in his eyes. Was it 
an act, she wondered. Was he truly sorry that Margaret was dead? She could 
not tell. If he was putting on a show for her benefit, she shuddered to 
think of just how low the man’s character had truly sunk. She had so many 
questions to ask him, so many unspoken concerns. Where on earth was he going 
to stay?

As if reading her thoughts, Harland remarked, “As it happens, my uncle owns 
a small hunting lodge a few miles from here. I only learned of it as I began 
to make arrangements to visit Margaret’s grave. My uncle has asked me to 
make some repairs on it for him in return for my staying there. He hasn’t 
visited it in some time but would like to do so near the end of the month.”

So Harland would be within walking distance of the mission house, Christy 
thought suddenly. And Neil’s cabin. What on earth did he intend to do? She 
would give anything to know his thoughts, his true motivation for returning 
to the cove. Was he here to harass Aunt Hattie again? Did he think they were 
so naïve they would trust him again so easily?

Harland’s eyes softened as he regarded her in the twilight. His gaze was 
assessing, intense. Not like Neil’s, so full of tender affection and warmth. 
Frozen beneath Harland’s sweeping visual examination, Christy could not move 
or speak. He did not blink nor did his stare waver. Not even once.

“You’ve grown up since I last visited the cove, Miss Huddleston,” he slowly 
said, each word low and intentional. “I can see it in those lovely blue eyes 
of yours. I should truly like to know the story behind that world-weary look 
you are tossing my way just now.”

Still Christy did not move, feeling as if he were staring into her heart, 
peeling away her protection. It frightened her. She was alone in the woods 
with this man and nobody knew where she was. He could do anything he pleased 
with her. The thought gave life to her limbs and she stepped back from him 
suddenly.

“Thank you for your offer of riding me back to the mission house, Mr. 
Harland, but I must refuse,” she told him firmly. “But the way is not far. I 
am certain I can make it back unassisted.”

Harland replaced his hat firmly on his head and moved toward his horse. “I 
never figured you for a foolish young woman, Miss Huddleston. The sun has 
nearly met the horizon and I happen to remember that the mission house is 
some distance from here. Surely you wouldn’t want Miss Henderson or the good 
Reverend to be out looking for you?”

Christy knew that despite her misgivings, Harland was right. It was more 
than likely that David and Miss Alice’s eyes were scanning the mission house 
yard for her return at that very moment. Was it her pride that was standing 
in the way of her accepting his offer? Or the fear that Neil would find out?

Neil! What would he do when he found out Harland was back in Cutter Gap? He 
had held little but contempt for the young man. Especially after learning of 
his effort to steal his aunt’s mountain songs. She hated to think of what he 
would do if he found out

That was when Christy knew she could not do it. If anyone even glimpsed her 
riding with Harland, the gossip mill would make sure he found out about it. 
Worse than when Becky Coburn had lied.  No, she would not risk it. She would 
tell Neil about Harland herself. He needed to know. Keeping secrets had 
nearly destroyed them both. She would not let that happen again.

“Thank you again, Mr. Harland, but I assure you I will be quite alright,” 
she told him, turning away from him shaprly. “Good evening.”

Harland’s eyes followed her as she quickly began walking through the trees 
down the trail heading for the mission house. Her quick step and slim figure 
were youthful and energetic. No, she was no Margaret McNeill. But Christy 
Huddleston possessed a more subtle, elusive charm. It came out in her voice, 
in her movement, in her smile. And she exuded a calm strength and sense of 
who she was that Margaret never had. It confounded and attracted him at the 
same time.

As she disappeared from sight, Harland turned back to his horse and mounted 
up slowly, feeling the cold wind nipping at his ears. He was surprisingly 
pleased about today’s turn of events. He had accomplished much more than he 
had planned in visiting Margaret’s grave. He had seen Christy Huddleston 
again and what he had seen pleased him. Very much.

And he fully intended to see her again. No matter how much she hated him.

**

Chapter 19

Summary: Neil hunts for Christy.


Neil McNeill’s famous temper was simmering at a slow boil.

“No, Doc, ain’t seen her,” Tom McHone told him, glancing back at Opal as she 
fed Iris. “Did she say she was comin’ t’visit us?”

“No, Tom,” Neil said, trying to rein himself in. “But Ruby Mae saw her 
headed this way. Forgive me if I disturbed you.”

“Tom, invite the poor man in!” Opal called. “We got plenty t’ eat.”

“Sorry, Doc,” Tom apologized, weariness coating his words. “I been helpin’ 
Jeb with his bees and doin’ my work here. Reckon I’m so tired I done fergot 
my manners.”

Shaking his head, Neil clapped the man on the shoulder. “Don’t apologize, 
Tom. I’ve been busy myself. Make sure you get some rest. Thanks for the 
invitation but I’d best be on my way.”

Opal had risen from the rocking chair and bounced Iris lightly on her hip, 
coming to stand by her husband in the doorway. “Doc, ifn’ ye find her bring 
‘er here if ya need to. Ain’t like Miss Christy to be wanderin’ off all by 
‘er lonesome.”

“Thanks, Opal. I’m sure she’s on her way to the mission house as we speak. 
Good night.”

Neil mounted Charlie swiftly and wheeled him round. It was dark now and 
difficult to see. But having been born and bred among these winding trails, 
Charlie took them sure-footedly. At times, Neil knew he must have ridden the 
horse in his sleep back to his cabin.

Where on earth was she, he wondered furtively. Heaven knows she barely 
survived her surgery. Now she’s out there somewhere--lost in the woods, 
wearing herself out. Tired. Cold. Hungry. Surely she knows by now how to 
take care of herself, doesn’t she?

Neil’s frustration inched up by degrees as he rode back toward the mission 
house. His anger was divided at Christy and at himself. If he was the doctor 
he thought he was, he would have made certain to remind her not to go 
walking by herself so close to dusk. Not when it got cold so quickly. If he 
was the fiance he should be, she would have known he was coming by the 
mission house to visit her.

In the past it wouldn’t have been so important. But it was now. There was 
still so little known about cancer, if it could rapidly return. Ian’s 
surgery had been nothing short of miraculous for its time. However, Neil 
knew it was no insurance policy against the possibility of a recurrence. 
Exhausting herself in the chill weather could only do her harm.

As Charlie plodded on, Neil felt the chill of the air on the back of his 
neck. He’d left the mission house so quickly that he’d forgotten to take his 
scarf.  He could only imagine how cold Christy must be right now. Especially 
if she had been outside since school had let out. Frustration and worry rose 
up in his chest. Confound it, where was she?

“Dear God, please watch over her,” Neil prayed aloud, knowing his request 
would be heard and honored. “Please keep her safe from harm.”

It was as he approached the fork in the trail he heard a sudden commotion, 
the footfall of someone coming down the opposite path. Someone clearly in a 
hurry, by the sound of it. Before he could think or act, he heard a small 
cry and a shuffling of leaves. Neil immediately swung down from Charlie and 
ran in that direction.

“Christy! Where are you? Yell out, lass!”

He nearly tripped on the prone figure lying in the pathway. Neil recognized 
the navy coat instantly and dropped to his knees. “Christy? Are you all 
right? Can you talk?”

She muttered something, coughing and attempting to right herself. She felt 
Neil’s strong, familiar arm gently lifting her up into a sitting position. 
Running toward the mission house, she had tripped on a root and gone 
sprawling into the path.

“Breathe slowly now, catch your breath,” he instructed. “You tripped, didn’t 
you? Did you hit your head…twist your ankle in any way?”

She shook her head slowly. The only thing smarting right now was her pride. 
“I…I’m fine, Neil…just got…the wind knocked out…of me.”

His fingers lightly brushed back the tendrils of hair that had tumbled onto 
her face. Even in the darkness, he could see she was pale and shivering. His 
feelings jumbled together like jigsaw puzzle pieces. He wanted to shake her 
for scaring him. And kiss her because he was so relieved she was all right. 
But the important thing now was to get her in front of a warm fire with a 
hot drink in her hands.

“Can you lean on my shoulder? Let me help you up. Easy now…”

She nodded, glad he wasn’t going to lecture her. For now, the role of 
physician had upstaged the part of future husband and her health was his top 
concern. “I know…it can’t be far…back to the mission.”

“No, it’s not,” Neil agreed, slowly rising, shouldering Christy’s light 
weight. They moved down the trail to where Charlie waited patiently, his 
tail flickering behind him. “Let’s get you home.”

Neither spoke as they rode back to the mission house. Christy rode in front 
of Neil, her cheek burrowed in the wool of his coat, nesting as it were. 
Beneath the thick layers of fabric, she could hear his heart thudding hard 
and strong. She needed that rhythm, that reality to protect her from the 
memory of Harland standing in the dusky fading light.

**

“I’ve just given her the tea,” Alice said, closing the door behind her. “Her 
color’s back in her cheeks. And there’s no fever.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“Neil, may I say one thing before thee goes in to speak with Christy?”

He nodded, saying nothing. In the past, he might have told Alice Henderson 
to get out of his way and to stay out of his business. But over the past 
months, he had slowly come to realize that she was much wiser than he often 
gave her credit for. Her Christian walk had begun long ago and he envied her 
the ability to consistently trust God and not question HIm.

“I know thou art angry at Christy for not leaving word with us and staying 
out after dark,” she quietly said. “But I sense the doctor in thee is about 
to ride roughshod over her as well.”

“She had to be made to understand, Alice,” Neil said succinctly. “Made to 
realize that surviving cancer is no easy business. She’s exhausted. Possibly 
ill. All because she wanted to take a walk in the woods!”

Alice braved the small blaze flickering in his eyes. “True indeed. But did 
thee stop to think that perhaps something is troubling Christy? Thee will 
soon be her husband, Neil. Thee cannot be a physician at all times.”

Grimacing, Neil responded, “Do you want me to ignore it, Alice? Pretend it’s 
not important? It’s too dangerous. She nearly died last time! I won’t let 
that happen again!”

“Do you want to cage her in, Neil, like a wild animal? Monitor her every 
movement?” Alice returned with surprising strength. “She may be young but 
she’s grown up a great deal in the last few months, Neil. Don’t try to 
replace her father. She already has one. Open your heart, Neil. That’s what 
she needs most from thee right now.”

Neil didn’t speak but he turned away, running his fingers through his hair 
to calm himself. He had not thought of it in that light but Alice was right. 
Christy was not a child. She did not deserve a scorching lecture or a round 
of intrusive questions. She needed his love and reassurance. Especially now.

He felt Alice’s light touch on his shoulder. “I know thee loves Christy very 
much. Believe me, I understand thy concern. I love the two of you both…does 
thee know that, Neil?”

His hazel eyes met her calm, gray ones. Yes, she did love him. After all the 
grief he had given her over the years. After all the times he had wordlessly 
pushed her away. She still loved him. Only God could sustain a love like 
that, Neil thought.

“Yes, Alice, I do,” he murmured, covering the hand on his arm with his own. 
“Thank you for that.”

Nodding, Alice drew back and moved toward the stairs. “Rose has your dinner 
warming on the stove, Neil. Do join me when you’ve said goodnight to 
Christy.”

Christy was sitting up in bed when he entered her bedroom, her long 
sun-kissed hair drawn back in a loose braid. She was wearing a thick flannel 
dressing gown, a recent gift from her mother.

He could see the wariness lingering in her eyes as he shut the door, like a 
young child expecting a spanking. Remorse washed over him in waves. Was that 
how she saw him? Was that how his patients saw him? No, he always tried to 
be thoughtful and kind when talking to his patients. What was it about 
Christy that made his traditional bedside manner vanish?

Because the thought of being without her terrified him.

“It’s late,” Christy said, taking a sip of tea. “You should be home by now 
with your feet up.”

“I will later,” he replied, sitting down beside her on the edge of the bed. 
“Right now I’m exactly where I want t’be, Miss Huddleston.”

She did not meet his eyes, simply continued sipping her tea. “Is that so, 
Dr. MacNeill?”

“Precisely. What kind of tea is that?”

“Peppermint,” she answered obediently. “Rose made it for me. It’s quite 
good. And hot.”

Nodding, Neil remarked, noticing that she was being rather evasive. “So I 
see. She’s very resourceful. Then again, so are you.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked, still avoiding his eyes.

“Rose told me you were planning on making a pie for me with some apples Mary 
and Alex sent you. I didn’t realize you’d moved on to making pies. Then 
again, I shouldna be too surprised. I seem to recall you made a very tasty 
blackberry cobbler for me—once upon a time.”

That caught Christy by surprise. “Cobbler? You mean when I cooked that 
disastrous meal at your cabin? You were so angry at me, I thought you must 
have thrown it away!”

Neil shook his head, eyes warm and laughing. “Nay, Miss Huddleston. While 
your chicken and carrots did contain more than th’ daily nutritional 
requirement of iron, I canna deny that you make a delicious blackberry 
cobbler. Even an angry man knows enough to put aside his wrath and take 
advantage of good food when he sees it. Delicious!”

“Why you…” she murmured, putting aside the mug of tea. “I ought to punch you 
in the face for that! You ate it anyway!”

Glad that at last her eyes were on him and not her tea, Neil stuck his chin 
out and pointed to it. “Go on, hit me. I deserve it. For that--and many 
other things.”

The anger died out of Christy as if he had blown out a candle. Instead, she 
eyed him with a mixture of weariness and concern. “Other things? I don’t 
understand.”

Gathering her small hands into his, Neil moved a little closer. “I heard 
about the ceremony th’ children put on at recess t’day.”

Warmth flooded Christy’s cheeks at once. Nothing remained a secret long in 
Cutter Gap. “Ruby Mae…”

“Yes, she told me,” Neil confirmed. “Christy, I’ve done wrong and I need t’ 
seek your forgiveness.”

“What for?” Christy asked, puzzled.

“I should have talked to you about setting our wedding date before we even 
returned to Cutter Gap,” he slowly said, knitting their fingers together. 
The ring on her finger glinted up at him in the lamplight. “It was wrong of 
me to forget about it. It didna occur to me that people might be talking 
about it.”

“Nor did I, until recently,” Christy told him gently. “You’ve had so much to 
do. Not to mention your article. I didn’t want to mention it because…well, 
it seemed almost petty. I know you love me. That’s all I need to know, 
Neil.”

“No, it’s not,” he said sharply, cutting himself no slack. “I asked you to 
marry me, Christy, and I meant it. And a man must follow his words with his 
actions. What kind of husband will I be to you if I canna do that?”

Her eyes were focused on their joined hands, a slight smile playing on her 
lips.

“Neil, we’re both a little new to this,” she calmly told him, her fingers 
lightly rubbing the red-gold hairs that covered the tops of his hands. 
“We’re going to make some mistakes. Even more after we’re married. We’ll 
have to learn as we go along.”

His lips brushed her forehead, lingering there for a moment. “I don’t 
deserve you,” he muttered. “I wake up every morning thanking God for sparing 
your life. You can’t know, Christy--you simply can’t. And I still wonder at 
times…if He’s going to live up to that. If He’s going to take you away from 
me.”

Looking up, Christy shook her head. “Neil, I feel fine. Just tired and a 
little rocky. I didn’t mean to stay out so late. I had no idea I was going 
to stumble across Margaret’s grave up there.”

Her words took him by surprise. “Margaret’s grave? Up at the piney woods? Is 
that where you were?”

She nodded, “Yes. I was walking and came upon it by surprise. I...I had 
never been there before.”

Neil watched her closely, his mind scrambling back to the moments when he 
had found her in the woods. She had been running, he suddenly remembered. 
Why? Was there something she wasn’t telling him?

“Christy, did something about Margaret’s grave upset you?” he asked, tugging 
her closer to him. “Be honest with me.”

She tensed slightly but assured him,  “No, Neil, Margaret’s memory didn’t 
bother me. I know that she made her peace with God. It wasn’t that, I 
promise.”

Neil expelled a sigh of relief, drawing her into his light embrace. “I’m 
glad. I wouldn’t want th’ past t’be worrying you. And that’s where my 
marriage is. In the past. That’s why we need to set a date, lass. So when 
shall it be?”

Christy nestled into her fiance’s arms and they both seized on that feeling 
for a few precious moments. Neil had not had Christy to himself like this in 
weeks. Neither wanted to spend that time discussing others. Knowing she was 
safe and well was enough for him.

“Well, we’re both going to have our hands full this winter,” she thought 
aloud. “There’s always an increased chance of exposure in cold weather. And 
I’m getting more students all the time. It’s so beautiful when the spring 
flowers bloom. What do you think of April?”

Neil nearly groaned. That was five months away. The thought of waiting that 
long bit deep. But if that was what she wanted, he would abide by it. And in 
truth, her words had merit. He needed to prepare the cabin for her and make 
some significant improvements to fit it up for a married couple. Not to 
mention handing over more of his duties to Dan.

His cheek against her hair, Neil murmured, “If that’s what you want, lass, 
then April it will be.”

“Is that too soon?”

A low rumble of laughter echoed in his chest. “Lass, if I had it my way, I’d 
be pullin’ Grantland out of bed to marry us right here, right now,” he 
declared fervently. “But we have to be practical. You’ll need that time to 
prepare, to buy a gown and make plans with your mother. And I have tasks to 
do myself. I’ll simply have to wait.”

Christy drew back slightly, her eyes shining. He could easily tell that with 
a few carefully chosen words he had boosted her confidence and made her feel 
special. How easy it was and yet how often he forgot, Neil mused.

“They do say patience is a virtue, Doctor,” she softly told him, her mouth 
curving into a teasing smile that did something peculiar to his insides.

Neil pulled her back to him, his mouth hovering over hers in promise. “Then 
I intend to be the most virtuous man in the cove, Miss Huddleston. Until 
April, that is…”

He kissed her then, seeking her upturned lips. The scent of lilac lingered 
in her hair, reminding him of the sweet, feminine treasure she was. How had 
he negleted this? He never would again, he thought. Then he stopped thinking 
at all.

A loud thump on the door broke them apart as Ruby Mae’s voice intruded.

“You still in there, Doc? Miss Alice says come eat ‘afore your stew gits 
moldy.”

Leave it to Alice to act as an effective, albeit absent, chaperone via Ruby 
Mae, Neil thought wryly. But Christy did need her rest. Here dark eyelashes 
were drooping against the milky white of her cheek. And he had plans to 
make.

“Go to sleep now, lass,” Neil instructed lovingly, brushing his mouth 
against hers one last time before settling her back against the pillows. 
“But I’ll be back at noon. Tomorrow is Saturday and school is out. And I 
have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Christy repeated, eyes lighting up. “You mean I won’t be 
cleaning out the chicken house like I planned?”

“David has graciously opted to take on that task for you,” Neil explained, 
rising from the bed. “And that is all I shall say on th’ matter for now. I 
am sworn to secrecy.”

Christy opened her mouth to speak but Neil’s lifted hand stopped her. “And 
don’t try to weasel it out o’ Fairlight or Alice. They’ve been bribed very 
nicely as well.”

As he moved toward the door, Christy sank deeper into the pillows.

“I suppose I’ll just have to practice being virtuous, Doctor.”

Standing in the open doorway, Neil nodded before winking at her. “Aye. We’ll 
both be paragons by th’ time our wedding day arrives.”

But as Christy chuckled, Neil’s eyes took on a more serious light as he 
spoke. “We’ll talk about your walk some more tomorrow, Christy. Good night, 
love.”

He left the room then, knowing she would fall asleep within minutes. He had 
given Rose something to put into her tea to help her sleep. His questions 
concerning her discovery of Margaret’s grave would keep until tomorrow.

But Neil knew something had happened up there. Could feel it in her body as 
he held her. Saw the darkness in her eyes. And he was determined to find out 
what that was.

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

  Summary: Neil tries some courtin’. 

  Chapter 20 

  “Smells like somebody’s gonna be doin’ some courtin’ today…” 

  Christy glanced over her shoulder almost guiltily. Ruby Mae was standing in 
  the doorway, a wide, knowing grin on her freckled face. 

  “I don’t know about that, Ruby Mae,” Christy remarked as she replaced the 
  small bottle of perfume on top of her dresser. Then she nearly laughed out 
  loud. Who was she fooling? She’d spent the last hour fussing over her hair 
  and had changed clothes twice. Ever since Neil had told her he had a 
  surprise for her, she had been on pins and needles. 

  “Reckon that sweet smellin’ stuff’ll take Doc’s mind off the circles under 
  yore eyes?” Ruby Mae asked eagerly, leaning against the doorframe. 

  “Ruby Mae,” Alice Henderson’s voice cut in suddenly. “I do believe Rev. 
  Grantland could use thy help cleaning out the chicken house.” 

  The horror on the teenager’s face was priceless as she spun around. “Lordy, 
  no, Miss Alice! He don’t want me gittin’ under foot!” 

  But Miss Alice would not be swayed. Placing her hands firmly on Ruby Mae’s 
  shoulders, she pointed the girl in the direction of the steps. “Four hands 
  will surely decrease the work of two,” she sensibly instructed. “Put on your 
  coat and get to it!” 

  Christy could not help feeling the sting of Ruby Mae’s words. Her sleep had 
  been sporadic and a slight headache was buzzing behind her eyes. Perfume and 
  a little powder would not go far in hiding that from Neil. The man missed 
  nothing. 

  “Thank you, Miss Alice,” Christy gratefully told her. “I don’t think I have 
  the strength today to answer Ruby Mae’s questions.” 

  “Nor should thee have to,” Miss Alice said, moving into the room. “But thee 
  does look a bit weary. Did thee not sleep well?” 

  Christy glanced at herself in the mirror before turning away. “I had a bad 
  dream, that’s all.” Theodore Harland’s face had intruded into her sleep. 

  “You’ve worked so hard since you returned from Philadelphia. Perhaps Cecile 
  could assist thee in the mornings as well?” 

  “I hate to ask it of her, Miss Alice. But there’s so much to be done and the 
  harvest isn’t that far away. I’d hate to hold the children back in any way.” 

  “I would never say that, Christy,” Alice remarked stoutly. “You look very 
  nice today. I suspect Neil will be arriving at any moment. Shall we go 
  downstairs?” 

  “Miss Alice, the suspense is killing me,” Christy pleaded. “Won’t you give 
  me a tiny hint? I haven’t seen Rose or Fairlight all morning.” 

  Grinning, Miss Alice headed for the stairway. “Ah, but then that would spoil 
  the surprise, would it not? Come along, Miss Huddleston.” 

  Neil arrived promptly at noon, riding Charlie up to the hitching post. 
  Standing at the foot of the porch steps, Christy noticed the difference in 
  the horse’s usual appearance at once. She had never seen his brown coat 
  gleaming so brightly. Even his saddle and bridle looked almost new from all 
  the polishing they had received. 

  “Neil, what did you do to Charlie?” 

  Laughing, Neil looked down at Christy. “He finally got the grooming he 
  deserved. Looks almost as good as his master, wouldn’t you say?” 

  Christy also noticed Neil’s effort to dress well as he dismounted. Beneath 
  his coat, he was wearing her favorite blue shirt, plaid vest, and his newest 
  corded breeches. The boots he wore shone in the pale autumn sunlight. 

  “You clean up nicely, Doctor. Almost as nice as Charlie.” she teased. 

  “Aye. Despite the fact you’re making sport of my gallantry, Miss 
  Huddleston.” 

  As he took in her own appearance, Christy saw the affection written plainly 
  in his gaze. She hoped he liked the way she’d done her hair in a lose braid, 
  tied with a blue satin ribbon. Then as his eyes narrowed slightly, she saw 
  he had slipped into his physician role, noticing the circles under her eyes. 

  “Lass, are you sure you’re up to this today?” he asked gently, touching her 
  arm. “You look a bit tired. We can always do it another time.” 

  “I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep very well. So if you think you’re going to keep 
  me from my surprise, you are quite mistaken, Doctor.” 

  Accepting her assurances, Neil lifted her up and onto the front of Charlie’s 
  saddle. She sensed he’d been looking forward to this as much as she. 

  “That’s the no-nonsense Miss Huddleston I know. I promise you won’t be 
  disappointed.” 

  As they rode off in a direction Christy was not very familiar with, she 
  glanced up at him. “Are we going to your cabin?” 

  “We’ll get there eventually. But we have a stop along the way. You still 
  haven’t seen some parts of the cove, Christy. I aim to remedy that.” 

  The panorama of nature’s beauty surrounded them as they rode up a sloping 
  hillside. The sun was gliding effortlessly through the branches, falling on 
  them like weightless dew drops. The trees were beginning to look more bare, 
  the autumn leaves falling. The easy rhythm of Charlie’s gait soothed her as 
  her headache faded into oblivion. Was it love that made the mountain colors 
  even more vivid, Christy wondered. Made the sound of the songs of the birds 
  above and around them sound sweeter. She didn’t care. She only knew that she 
  did not want to forget a single moment of this special day. 

  “You’re awfully quiet. What’re y’ thinking?” 

  “Actually, I was thanking God that you weren’t quoting poetry to me.” 

  “And here I was about t’ recite Burns or Byron, young lady. You’ve ruined my 
  first surprise. Did th’ young reverend used t’ do so? ” 

  Christy nodded, silently comparing the “courting” techniques of the two men. 
  David had always felt motivated to quote something about stars and 
  moonbeams. Neil, while romantic in his own way, was usually trying to make 
  her laugh or challenging her with a question. 

  “I don’t dislike poetry but I always wanted to laugh when he read it. He 
  would sound all serious and starched up, which made me laugh even harder.” 

  “Poor lad. I hope Rose doesn’t dissolve into fits of giggles when he 
  launches into ‘The Lady of the Lake.’” 

  “Rose is doubtless more kind than I am,” Christy said, her cheek against his 
  shoulder. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. He smelled of soap and 
  tobacco, a unique scent all his own. Oh, yes, she could get used to this. 

  “You still haven’t told me where we’re going, Doctor.” 

  “You may be quiet but you’re still persistent. If you keep asking me, I’ll 
  threaten you with some poetry. Or better yet, some of my Great Uncle Fergus’ 
  limericks. Let me see. I’ve got it. There once was a lady from Glamis—“ 

  “Stop, stop!” Christy cried, laughing despite herself. “Fairlight warned me 
  about those limericks. My face will be the color of Ruby Mae’s hair if you 
  go on.” 

  “This one’s even better. There once was a man named McGee, who took his wife 
  over his knee—“ 

  Eventually, they came to a rather steep incline that Charlie could not 
  manage. After tethering the horse, Neil helped Christy down and took her 
  gloved hand in his. His saddlebags were slung over his shoulder. “It’s not 
  far from here. Do watch your step for any wayward roots that may spring up.” 

  “Thank you, Doctor, I’ll try and remember that.” 

  They hadn’t gone far when Christy heard the unmistakable sound of rushing 
  water. Were they near the river? No, they were too far up. What was it? 

  Coming through a thick cluster of trees, Christy held onto Neil’s hand as he 
  guided her down the incline. “Is one of Singer Lee’s relatives buried out 
  here? We’re in the middle of nowhere.” 

  “Saucy girl, it’s not much further,” Neil chided, squeezing her hand. “Trust 
  me!” 

  When they rounded a bend in the trail, Christy looked up in amazement. It 
  wasn’t a stream or a pond. It was a waterfall! 

  “Neil, it’s beautiful!” Christy exclaimed, her eyes shining as she took in 
  the sight. “I had no idea it was here!” 

  “I must confess I didna either until several months ago,” Neil said, drawing 
  her over to a low, flat rock. “I was comin’ back from Pebble Mountain and 
  got turned around.” 

  Neil pulled a blanket from his saddlebags, spreading it out on the rock. 
  Christy was impressed by his thoughtfulness. He had clearly prepared for 
  their day in detail. 

  When he had pulled her onto his knees, Christy linked her hands round his 
  neck. Finally they were alone! No Ruby Mae to interrupt. No patients to tend 
  to. She could hardly believe it. 

  Neil rubbed his nose against hers. “Happy, lass?” he asked softly. She had 
  not heard that note in his voice since before her surgery and it flooded her 
  body with warmth. It was a tone meant for her alone and she relished it. 

  “Very. What made you decide to bring me here?” 

  “A very good question,” Neil said, his hazel eyes intent. “Christy, there 
  are plenty o’ places with special meaning to us both. I know you an’ 
  Fairlight spend time t’gether up at God’s Fist.” 

  “We do. And I know the river brings you great peace.” 

  “Exactly,” he affirmed, his hands resting on her waist lightly. “But it came 
  t’ me a few days ago that you and I don’t have our own place. A place that’s 
  just ours. That’s when I thought of th’ waterfall.” 

  Christy’s eyes looked over his shoulder to the water cascading down the 
  jagged rocks into the pool beside them. The dampness from it was causing 
  Neil’s curly locks to shine under the sunlight. It was indeed a special 
  place. 

  “What made you choose this place?” 

  “I sometimes came here when you were gone this summer. To think. To pray. To 
  simply find peace. The water flowin’ over the rocks... It made me think o’ 
  you. Its strength, its courage. It keeps goin’ all the time. No matter what 
  gets in its way.” 

  Christy’s fingers shakily brushed back the stubborn single curl that had 
  dropped onto his forehead, her feelings suddenly rendering her mute. 

  “I swore to myself that if you ever came back, I’d bring you here,” Neil 
  said quietly. “Even if you didna love me. I wanted you t’know how glad I 
  was…that God put you in my life. For whatever purpose that might be.” 

  Christy’s lips curved into a tremulous smile, her heart in her eyes. “That 
  was better than any poetry, Neil,” she managed to say. 

  “I meant every word, Christy,” he vowed, his lips brushing hers slowly, 
  thoroughly. And for long, sweet moments, they savored the kiss as the sound 
  of the water roared behind them. 

  ** 

  “Why do I have to keep my eyes closed?” 

  “Because I asked you nicely. As my future wife, you’re going to have t’ 
  learn to obey my every command.” 

  “Is that so, Doctor?” 

  Neil guided Christy up the steps of his cabin, hoping that everything was in 
  readiness inside. He had made certain they were back when Rose and Fairlight 
  had requested. But would Christy be pleased? 

  “Yes, it ‘tis. Rein in that curious mind o’ yours. Only a few more steps.” 

  He opened the door slowly, scanning the cabin. Ah, they had done exactly as 
  he asked. He should never have worried. 

  “I smell something wonderful,” Christy said. “At least I can tell that 
  much.” 

  Shutting the door behind them, Neil carefully guided her into the middle of 
  the front room, near the hearth where a blazing fire was going. Slowly he 
  took away his hands and told Christy she could open her eyes. 

  “I must be dreaming,” Christy murmured. “I’ve never seen your cabin so 
  spotless! Did the Cocke County health inspector finally show up?” 

  “Christy, I’m a doctor, do remember. I can appreciate cleanliness more than 
  anyone. I’ve been trying to improve my habits of…cluttering, if you will.” 

  Christy turned to him, smiling her approval. “Yes, that’s quite apparent. 
  But are you sure you didn’t have a little help?” 

  “Maybe just a little with washin’ the windows. Never was a dab hand at that. 
  But I did most of it myself.” 

  Neil watched as Christy walked about the room slowly, marveling at how the 
  old furniture gleamed from being dusted and polished. The light scent of 
  beeswax drifted up from the fine wood. Fairlight had helped him but he had 
  done a fair amount of it himself. He wanted to make certain everything was 
  just right, that Christy would be pleased. 

  His eyes followed her as wandering led her into the kitchen where several 
  pots were warming on the stove, the table carefully set in preparation. He 
  saw the soft glow in her eyes as she took it all in, from the embroidered 
  tablecloth to the vase of dried wildflowers. He could see that she was 
  impressed and his final fears subsided. 

  “I can hardly wait to see what’s next,” Christy said, as Neil put his hands 
  gently on her shoulders. “You truly know how to pull out all the stops, 
  Doctor. You’d give the entire female population of the Cove the vapors if 
  they saw a fine spread like this.” 

  “A doctor’s worst nightmare! But there’s only one young lady I wish to charm 
  tonight.” 

  She turned around to face him, her skirts whispering as she did so. She had 
  that soft, glowing look in her eyes, the one that made his heart skip a 
  beat. 

  “Have I told you how lovely you look t’night?” 

  She smiled up at him then, her hand resting on his arm, “Not in words, Neil. 
  But in every other way.” 


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

  Summary: More courtin’ and Christy tells Neil about Harland’s arrival in 
  the cove. 

  Chapter 21 

  “That strudel was delicious,” Christy said, dabbing at the corner of her 
  mouth with the crisp napkin as she pushed the plate away. “I’ll have to ask 
  Rose to show me how she did it.” 

  Neil watched her over the glow of the candles, taking in the picture she 
  made. Her face was softened by the dimness but he could see she was tired.. 
  It bothered him that she hadn’t been resting well. He knew he ought to ride 
  her home but to end the day now seemed almost unthinkable. 

  “We have plenty of apples for you to experiment with,” Neil assured her, 
  reaching for her hand across the table. “Alex promised he’d send another 
  crate to the mission. I got his letter from Ben this morning.” 

  Christy did not speak, seeming to prefer to rest in the warmth of Neil’s 
  gaze. He could not remember a meal he had enjoyed more. They had discussed 
  his article, talked about improving the cabin and what tasks Dan would be 
  taking on. They had even begun talking about their wedding plans. 

  “I hope Mary and Alex can come up in April,” Christy said. “But I’ll see 
  them at their wedding in December. I’m sure Mary will have plenty of ideas 
  for ours.” 

  “Are you going home then?” Neil asked. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Of 
  course she would want to see her family. “I didn’t know that.” 

  “For a few days but I’ll be back well before Christmas,” Christy assured 
  him, squeezing his hand. “I have to see Dr. Parker, too, while I’m there.” 

  “I would have thought you’d have gone to see him sooner than that,” Neil 
  said, realizing he hadn’t discussed this with her. “You’re still in a 
  delicate state, Christy. Surviving cancer surgery is no easy business.” 

  “But I feel fine,” Christy insisted. “Miss Alice has been watching out for 
  me. I just don’t see the need to do it until I’m in Asheville.” 

  “Did Nathaniel phone you?” 

  “A few days ago, yes. There is nothing to it, I swear. As a doctor, I 
  thought you would understand” 

  Neil did not immediately answer, his thoughts running off into a hundred 
  directions. Of course Nathaniel would want to see her to make certain no 
  complications had arisen from her surgery. Truth be told, she ought to be 
  going now, not later. Especially when she was looking more tired than usual. 

  “Neil, I know you worry about me. But there’s no need. There are a few tests 
  Dr. Parker can do in Asheville that you can’t. He doesn’t mistrust your 
  ability. He just wants to be sure.” 

  “It’s not that,” Neil admitted as his panic abated somewhat. “I should have 
  been the one insisting on this. Not Nathaniel. I wasn’t even around for you 
  to tell me about his call. Christy. That’s inexcusable. You should be going 
  to see him now. I can see you’re worn down.” 

  “Neil, I didn’t bring this up to make you feel guilty. I simply forgot. You 
  know if I truly felt sick, I would tell you. But I don’t. I just didn’t 
  sleep well last night. That’s all.” 

  He heard the regret in her voice and remembered Alice’s words from last 
  night. The line between suitor and physician was becoming a difficult one to 
  balance. He had to learn to temper his concern with trust. To drag out the 
  issue would ruin the special day they had just shared. 

  “Well, I want to come with you to Asheville for that examination. And the 
  wedding. Alex and Mary were there for us when we needed them. I want t’ do 
  the same for them. And for you.” 

  Her response told him she had not been expecting this. “Neil, are you sure? 
  I know you have a lot to do. I’d be thrilled if you came but you don’t have 
  to.” 

  “Christy, I want to. Dan can handle things for a few days. So let’s talk nae 
  more about it.” 

  Christy stood up then and came round the table, standing behind him. Her 
  arms went round his shoulders as she leaned against his cheek, kissing him. 
  Her light scent heightened his senses and he closed his eyes to savor it. No 
  woman could be so truly feminine, so alluring and be so completely unaware 
  of it, he thought. 

  “Daddy will be thrilled,” she murmured happily. “And so will George and 
  Mother. Not to mention me!” 

  Neil could not say anything then. His heart was too full at this amazing 
  woman who took such joy from something so small. 

  ** 

  Later, as Neil cleared the table, Christy wandered over to the small, round 
  table beside the window. For the first time, she noticed his Victrola was 
  resting there and not the usual clutter of medical books. She realized she 
  had not seen it since that day she had come to Neil’s cabin to find Margaret 
  there with him by the river. 

  For a brief moment, she wondered if Margaret had ever danced with Harland.. 
  Then she shook the thought aside. 

  “Put on a record, Christy,” Neil called from the kitchen. “I’ll be there in 
  a moment.” 

  Browsing through his small record collection, Christy marveled at how 
  amazing it was that Neil even owned a Victrola. He was such a study in 
  contrasts. He was a mountain man, his spirit and body sprung from a long 
  heritage of backwoods men and women. He hunted and fished as well as any of 
  the cove men did. But Neil was also a man of the world, possessed a vast 
  intelligence and appreciated the finer things such as music. To see them 
  merged in one unique man would forever surprise and attract her. 

  Christy chose a waltz in memory of her remarkable first dining experience 
  with Neil. Placing the record carefully on the console, she cranked up the 
  machine and lowered the needle. 

  As music filled the room, Neil came out of the kitchen then and drew her to 
  his side with a wry smile. “Excellent choice, Miss Huddleston. Perhaps we’ll 
  be able t’ finish a dance for a change. Will you honor me, ma’am?” 

  Fluttering her eyelashes shamelessly as she curtsied, Christy replied, “Why 
  I’d be delighted, Doctor.” 

  Soon they were waltzing slowly around the room, Neil attempting to take 
  small steps to accommodate Christy’s petite frame. 

  “You never told me how you came to dance so well,” Christy remarked, feeling 
  her skirts brush against Neil’s boot as he capably lead her in the easy 
  rhythm. “I don’t suppose dancing was a required field of study in medical 
  school.” 

  “No, but they did let us out now and again to pursue some boyish pleasures,” 
  Neil told her. “I must say that for a short time I carried th’ sad 
  reputation of bein’ th’ ruination of many a lady’s dancing slippers..” 

  Laughing softly despite herself, Christy snuggled her head beneath Neil’s 
  chin. It fit just right, she thought, as the music lilted and filled the 
  air. Without even knowing it, Neil made her feel safe and protected. And 
  utterly cared for. 

  “I’ve no doubt you had plenty of partners squiring you about at the local 
  dances. And in ballrooms much grander than my humble cabin.” 

  “I had a few partners,” Christy lightly said, feeling his hand strong and 
  sure on the small of her back. “But now I prefer to frequent smaller, more 
  intimate rooms in which to indulge my dancing habit, Doctor.” 

  They both fell silent as they continued dancing, letting the notes lull them 
  into a sense of timelessness. This is what I’ve dreamed of, Christy thought. 
  I didn’t understand why I was so restless before. But Fairlight was right. I 
  wanted Neil to give me his time, to share himself with me. 

  The record eventually came to an end and they reluctantly stopped. Neil’s 
  hand gently cupped Christy’s cheek in the firelight, lightly stroking its 
  downy softness. In the fire’s glow, his gaze was loving but held something 
  else. 

  “Christy, it’s almost time I rode you back. But I promised we’d talk about 
  yesterday. 

  “I know,” she softly said. 

  Silently he led her over to the settle he had pulled close to the crackling 
  fire. With his arm round her shoulder, Neil listened as Christy told him 
  about accidentally finding Margaret’s grave. 

  “I’d wanted to find it for a long time,” she said, feeling his thumb lightly 
  brushing her arm. “We may not have gotten along but I always admired her 
  spirit. And the fact she gave her life to God when the end was near.” 

  “Aye,” Neil agreed. “And in her own way, I think she admired you.” 

  Christy did not speak, remembering her last exchange with Margaret. She 
  wasn’t so certain. But it wasn’t Margaret’s memory that had sent her running 
  down the hill. That was what Neil needed to know. 

  “Christy, what happened up there?” 

  Gathering her courage, she left his side, sinking slowly onto the hearth 
  rug. Her full skirts pooled round her as she knelt before his knees. He 
  gazed down at her with a mixture of love and concern, his hands finding 
  hers. 

  “Someone else came to visit Margaret’s grave, Neil. Theodore Harland.” 

  She felt him stiffen at once. 

  “Harland? What the devil was he doing there?” 

  Christy quickly told him about their conversation, hoping to defuse his 
  anger. He listened silently, his eyes intent on the fire. 

  “I had no idea there was a hunting lodge in this area,” she said, watching 
  him carefully. “It’s so remote.” 

  “Men like Cunningham used t’ come up here often,” Neil slowly said. “But I 
  haven’t seen him in many years. Harland’s his nephew?” 

  “So he says.” 

  Neil sighed, shaking his head. She could see he was trying to rein in his 
  feelings and make sense of it all. 

  “Neil, why would he come back? He knows the cove people don’t trust him 
  after he almost stole Hattie’s songs. Goodness knows he won’t find any city 
  pleasures here.” 

  Carefully, Neil drew her up from the floor to sit beside him on the settle. 
  Relieved he wasn’t vowing revenge on Harland, Christy leaned against his 
  shoulder as his arm went round her again. When he spoke, each word was 
  deliberate but tender. 

  “Cutter Gap may not be Atlanta, but I can think of one treasure that would 
  draw a man from the big city.” 

  “What’s that?” 

  Neil's lips feathered over her hair. "You, little one. Has it occurred t’you 
  that Harland saw something he wanted t' see again?" 

  “That’s ridiculous.” 

  “But it’s not, Christy. You’re a beautiful young woman. If Harland didn’t 
  notice that, he’s a bigger fool than I already think he is.” 

  Frowning, Christy said, “It doesn’t matter because he knows I don’t want to 
  be anywhere near him. I practically ran from him, Neil.” 

  “But it does matter. Lass, I want you to be careful coming and going. No 
  more solitary rambles in the woods.” 

  She shifted uncomfortably, chafing at his words. “Neil, I can look after 
  myself. Don’t you trust me?” 

  Neil moved so that he was looking down at her. "It's not you I don't trust. 
  It's Harland. I know the Bible says we're t' turn the other cheek and 
  forgive but God never told us to ignore th' brains He gave us. So will you 
  humor this crotchety old Scot and promise me you'll be careful?" 

  Christy saw he was trying to pull in his instinctive urge to smother her and 
  touched his cheek lightly. She had been so worried about what his reaction 
  might be. 

  "I happen to love a young, handsome, brawny Scot who speaks humble words 
  that make my heart sing. And shows me he loves me in every way he knows how. 
  I won't have you speaking ill of his fine heritage like that." 

  Neil let out a low, pleased laugh that sent a thrill of delight up Christy's 
  spine before kissing her soundly. 

  "I’d encourage you t’ go on flattering me in such a delightful way, lass, 
  but the good Reverend and Alice would not be pleased with the consequences," 
  he finally said, a mischievous glint in his eyes that reflected his words. 

  Later as they stood together on the porch, Neil carefully wrapped Christy’s 
  scarf around her neck. She remained silent as he did so, her eyes trained on 
  his face. She loved every unique inch of it; from the laugh lines that 
  radiated out from his hazel eyes to the full mouth to the riot of wildly 
  curling hair. The awareness of it suddenly overwhelmed her, making her 
  almost giddy. 

  Neil stopped suddenly, noticing the intensity of her gaze. “Christy, what is 
  it?” 

  Standing on tiptoe, Christy put her hands on his coat lapels and leaned in. 
  “Neil…if I didn’t know how much you love me before…I surely know it tonight. 
  Thank you for today…for our day.” 

  “My sweet lass,” Neil whispered against her ear as he enfolded her into his 
  arms. “It was wonderful for me, too.” 

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


Summary: Christy and Rose visit Opal (among other things).

Chapter 22

“You’re doing a good job, Joshua.”

The blonde-headed boy didn’t look up as he erased the blackboard, making 
sure he covered every inch carefully.

“Thank you, Miz Christy. Got anythin’ else fer me t’do?”

“When you’re done with the blackboard, you can sweep off the front steps if 
you like. But take your time. There’s no hurry.”

“Yes’m, I will.”

Christy smiled to herself as she continued with her work. She’d never seen a 
ten-year-old boy work harder. And all for some cornbread and greens.

Ben and Cora Raeburn, Joshua’s parents, had moved to Cutter Gap while 
Christy was in Philadelphia. After visiting Cora in their weather-beaten 
shack not far from the McHones, Christy had been saddened by what she had 
seen.

In the Smokies, poverty was a fact of life. But the Raeburns were among the 
poorest of the poor. Ben has lost his arm in a hunting accident a few years 
ago, leaving him a bitter, reserved man. It also made it hard for him to 
find work. They’d barely had time to plant a small garden before autumn had 
come.

Christy had noticed Joshua didn’t bring a lunch to school. He would claim he 
had eaten it on his way or wasn’t hungry.

A growing boy has to eat, she’d thought. But I can’t just give him food.

So she’d started sharing her own lunch with Joshua in return for him doing 
small chores before or after school. The boy wouldn’t accept the food any 
other way, like many of the other cove families. They might be poor but 
their pride was stronger than the growling of their stomachs.

Christy enjoyed having Joshua’s company at the school house. She’d been 
spending a lot of time there writing out parts for the class Christmas 
production. It was taking longer than she would have liked.

Had Neil known about her late hours, he wouldn’t have stood for it. He was 
attending a seminar on rural medicine in Knoxville, a course rarely offered 
by traditional medical schools. Christy had encouraged him to attend, 
knowing he longed to talk to other doctors experiencing similar 
circumstances. But she found herself counting the days until his return.

Christy rubbed her eyes, trying to focus on the papers in front of her. She 
still wasn’t sleeping well. Her mind wouldn’t let her rest. She wished Miss 
Alice was home. But the Quaker woman was in Big Lick Spring helping the 
women with their annual efforts to can vegetables and make winter quilts for 
cash money. While it was a special time of fellowship that Miss Alice 
relished, it left the mission house a bit shorthanded.

Glancing down at her attendance records, Christy realized she’d forgotten 
all about Toot McHone, who was home with a cold. She’d told Isaak she might 
visit his mother and see Iris as well.

“Joshua, on second thought, why don’t you save the sweeping for tomorrow?” 
Christy said as he headed for the door. “I’m going to the McHones before it 
gets dark so I can walk you home on my way.”

Joshua nodded, his eyes bright. “Ma’d love t’ talk, ma’am.” He stashed the 
broom in the corner before brushing his hands on his trousers.

As Christy put on her coat, Rose’s dark head popped in the doorway.

“Christy, Ruby Mae said you might go to visit Opal. Would you like some 
company?”

Christy wondered if David had sent Rose to go with her. She’d informed them 
both about Harland’s return to the cove. David was especially disturbed. 
He’d told Harland to leave and now he was back.

Rose, who’d never met Harland, had been full of curiosity. David hadn’t told 
her much for fear of unduly frightening her but had reinforced Neil’s view 
that neither Christy nor Rose should be paying calls in the cove alone.

“I’d be grateful,” Christy said, pulling on her gloves. “But I don’t want to 
keep you from doing something else. Are you sure?”

“David’s at the Allen place helping them fix their wagon and won’t be back 
until late,” Rose said, leaning on a desk. “And Ruby Mae is at the Coburn’s. 
Kyle promised to walk her home.”

Satisfied, Christy moved toward the door. “Joshua, put on your coat and 
let’s go!”

As they walked out of the school yard, Christy couldn’t help glancing 
around. Ever since she’d run into Harland at Margaret’s grave, she’d been a 
little uneasy. You’re being silly, she thought, shaking her head. He’s on 
the other side of the cove.

As they headed up the path, Christy glanced at Rose and noticed her pensive 
expression. “Is there something on your mind, Rose?”

The afternoon sunlight shone on Rose’s glossy, dark hair as she looked back 
as if to make sure nobody was listening. “Christy, I’ve been wanting to ask 
you something. Did you know David’s sister, Mrs. Sweetwater, very well?”

Sidestepping a large cobweb, Christy remembered the last time she’d seen 
Ida, leaving El Pano on the train with her new husband. Christy had never 
seen a happier woman in all her life. Or a woman who deserved that happiness 
more. But why did Rose want to know?

“That’s hard to say. I lived with Ida and we worked together. But we were 
never close. Our personalities…well, they were a bit different. Why do you 
ask?”

Rose lifted her skirts to step over a fallen tree. “David and I…we’ve been 
talking about our families. He said Ida tried to mother him. Did she act 
jealous when you arrived?”

Surprised, Christy almost stopped short. Rose was a good deal sharper on the 
subject of David’s family than she’d thought.

“Let’s just say she didn’t make it easy for me,” Christy said. “She thought 
I’d left home to find a man. Which made me laugh since Cutter Gap isn’t 
exactly a bachelor’s paradise.”

Chuckling softly, Rose nodded. “I think I know what you mean.”

“But Ida’s gruffness hid a lot of hurt,” Christy went on. “She’d spent her 
life looking out for David, taking care of him. But she wanted a life…a love 
of her own. It took David a while to see that. Has he written to Ida about 
you?”

Rose blushed and looked away. “Yes, he has. You must wonder at my questions. 
David wants his family to think well of him. Sometimes…I wonder if I’ll be 
good enough for them. He talks about us going to his family reunion in 
Boston after Christmas. The Sweetwaters may be there.”

A smile curved Christy’s lips. “You don’t have a thing to worry about. 
They’ll adore you. Just as David does. And that’s what they want the most.”

Rose smiled with something akin to relief, her gloved hands shoved deep into 
her coat pockets. “Thank you. It seems strange to talk about it, considering 
you two were almost engaged. But I know how important your friendship is to 
David. I thought if anyone would know, you would.”

“I’ve never seen David so content in my life, Rose. He was always restless 
about his work here before. You’ve changed him a lot. I know I never saw him 
lift a skillet in my life before you arrived!”

They were still laughing as they came to the bottom of the hollow where the 
Raeburn cabin was situated.

Cora Raeburn was coming down the rickety steps to meet them, brushing back 
her blonde hair hurriedly.

“Miz Christy! What a nice surprise! What brings ye out this way?”

“Miss Campbell and I are on our way to visit the McHones,” Christy explained 
as they came to the makeshift fence, which leaned precariously against a 
tree. “Rose, this is Cora Raeburn.”

The women shook hands, exchanging greetings.

“I’d invite ye both in but Ben, he’s plumb wore out,” Cora said, looking 
over her shoulder almost nervously. “Done been out all day. He’s sleepin’ 
yan.”

Christy’s eyes swept the small, uneven front porch of the shack. Her heart 
sunk as she caught sight of a jug tucked beside the small woodpile. She 
hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was.

“Joshua’s been working hard in school,” Christy said, pulling her gaze back 
to Cora. “His spelling is especially good.”

“I works wi’ him every night, ma’am,” Cora said, nodding proudly. “Want ‘im 
to be book smart. Not like me or his Paw.”

Joshua ran up to them, his cheeks pink. “Maw, Miz Christy gave me some 
mighty fine sweet potater pie t’day. Shore was good.”

Clara’s smile faded as she looked up at Christy. “I’m obleeged to ye, Miz 
Christy. That boy done eat me outta house n’ home.”

“He does so much for me at the schoolhouse, Mrs. Raeburn. It’s the least I 
can do.”

Cora’s eyes darted nervously back toward the cabin again. “Hope you ladies 
kin come back sometime fer a visit. Promise me ya will, Miz Christy, and we 
kin talk a spell.”

“I promise,” Christy said, resting her hand lightly on Cora’s. “I haven’t 
seen Mr. Raeburn in a while.”

She felt the mountain woman’s fingers tremble slightly beneath hers.

“Lookin’ forward to it, ma’am.”

**

Sitting by the fire in the McHone cabin, Christy watched Opal pour a cup of 
tea for Rose. Toot was asleep nearby. Perched on Christy’s lap, Iris tugged 
at her cross and babbled.

“We just came from the Raeburn place, Opal. Have you met Cora?”

“Shore did. Nice woman, she is. But that husband done got a streak o’ 
meanness in him.”

Christy said nothing, only wondered at Opal’s words.

“Don’t got hardly nothin’ in that shack, Miz Christy,” Opal sighed, sitting 
down in a cane back chair. “We ain’t got much neither but don’t reckon her 
cupboard’s got a thing in it. Wouldn’t take th’ corn I try’n give ‘er.”

“We’ll have to invite her to the sewing circle when Miss Alice returns. Then 
she’ll feel that she’s doing her part.”

Rose said, “I’ve been hoping that’ll be soon. Ruby Mae’s told me about your 
beautiful quilts, Mrs. McHone.”

“Reckon you could share some good recipes with us, gal,” Opal said, smiling 
at Rose. “That peach pie you brung to th’ church social was easy on th’ 
tongue.”

Glancing back at Toot’s bed, Christy realized she had not asked after her 
pupil.

“How’s Toot feeling?”

“He’s doin’ much better,” Opal said, pulling her worn, blue shawl more 
closely round her shoulders. “Mr. Scott done been by twice t’day. Treated 
Toot s’ good. Doc comin’ home soon?”

“In a few days, yes.”

Opal’s clear eyes swept over Christy. “Reckon you could use a tonic yerself, 
gal. You feelin’ poorly?”

“Just tired, Opal. I’ll be glad when Cecile is ready to come back. Maybe 
after Thanksgiving.”

Inevitably, the conversation turned to Christy’s wedding.

Opal refilled Christy’s cup, the aroma wafting up sweetly. “Heard you an’ 
Doc done set a date. Me n’ Tom got hitched in April. Made me right happy to 
hear ‘bout hit.”

Blushing slightly, Christy nuzzled Iris’ fair hair. “ Thank you, Opal. I’m 
going to need your help come springtime. I don’t know much about mountain 
weddings.”

“I ‘spect it’ll be the biggest thang this cove’s ever seen,” Opal said as 
she leaned forward. “Yer weddin’ dress, Miz Christy. You gonna get a store 
bought ‘un?”

“I haven’t even thought about it. Isn’t that funny? I’ve been so busy with 
school and catching up.”

“Miz Rose, I think she’s funnin’ us,” Opal said, laughing softly . “No gal 
done got ‘erself engaged without thinkin’ ‘bout ‘er weddin’ gown!”

“That’s why she’s going to need your help,” Rose replied before she sipped 
her tea. “I know even less about it than she does, Mrs. McHone.”

“I reckon you n’ Preacher be havin’ yer own weddin’ soon enough,” Opal said, 
before standing up to check on Toot.

Iris wiggled her feet, still trying to grasp Christy’s cross. Rose found a 
cornshuck doll lying nearby and offered it to the child, who grabbed it with 
her chubby fingers.

“I can see a toddler’s attention span is still short,” Christy said with a 
laugh. “Thank you.”

“Oh, Christy,” Rose murmured. “Is everyone waiting for David and me to 
announce our engagement?”

“More than likely. Now that Neil and I’ve set the date, the light is 
squarely on you and David. That’s how it is here. But don’t let it bother 
you. They mean well.”

“I know,” Rose said as she took in the humble surroundings of the small 
cabin. “I truly do.”

**

“I’m almost glad David’s not home,” Rose said as they left the McHone yard. 
“He’d be mad as a hornet if he knew we’re out after dark.”

Christy nodded. “So would Neil. At least I know where I’m going this time.”

Twilight was falling, rimming the tree branches with a flourish of gold and 
orange. As the women hurried down the path, they could not fail to marvel at 
the simple beauty around them.

As they neared the schoolhouse, Christy saw a rider coming up the path. She 
recognized the horse at once and her blood went cold.

“Well, well, I can see you two ladies have been paying a call!”

They stopped still as Theodore Harland approached. Christy was astonished at 
the change in his appearance. Gone were the fine city garments, replaced by 
the ordinary coat, shirt, trousers, and boots of a mountain man.

“I see I’ve robbed Miss Huddleston of speech,” he said, his gaze sliding to 
Rose after he’d dismounted. “So I hope you’ll do the honor of introducing 
yourself, Miss…?”

“Campbell. I’m Rose Campbell. And you are?”

“Theodore S. Harland at your service, Miss Campbell,” he replied, taking off 
his hat with a flourish. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Are you 
a new resident to the Cutter Gap mission house?”

“Yes, Mr. Harland.”

Christy choked back her frustration. As usual, Harland was turning on the 
charm. Rose looked somewhat bemused but impressed.

“I’m surprised to see you, Mr. Harland,” Christy said. “I thought you were 
repairing your uncle’s lodge.”

“I’ve been doing just that, Miss Huddleston. But necessity forced me out of 
hiding. I had to send a wire to my uncle. I’m headed home now.”

Christy nodded. “Very well, then. Good night, Mr. Harland.”

Harland laughed before he stepped out of their way. “I recall how you like 
to be indoors before nightfall, Miss Huddleston. I’d hate to keep you from 
it. Miss Campbell, it was a pleasure to meet you. Perhaps we’ll cross paths 
again soon.”

“The pleasure is mine, sir. Good evening.”

Christy said nothing but lightly pulled Rose by the elbow as Harland 
remounted his horse. Ahead, a light blazed inside the mission house, 
indicating Ruby Mae was home.

“Christy, I don’t understand why you had to drag me away,” Rose said, 
looking over her shoulder. “He seemed like a perfectly well-mannered 
gentleman. Is he really that dangerous?”

“Rose, there’s more to this than you know. Mr. Harland isn’t exactly what he 
appears.”

“I’ll have to ask David,” Rose said. “You both make him sound like the Big 
Bad Wolf.”

Christy sighed, saying nothing as they headed across the school house yard. 
Rose had no way of knowing Harland’s ulterior motives. Her curiosity was 
understandable.

Christy shivered then, tightening her scarf around her neck. She couldn't 
believe how tired she felt. It wasn't just the long walk in the night air, 
it was a weariness she felt in her bones. It frightened her. Seeing Harland 
again hadn’t helped either.

“I’m sorry, Christy,” Rose said. “You look exhausted. Opal was right about 
that.”

They came to the mission house steps and Christy leaned against the railing. 
She felt like an old woman.

“I know. But it’ll be over soon. School will close for the fall harvest and 
I can catch up then. All I need now is a good night’s sleep.”


Summary: Neil comes home from Knoxville.

Chapter 23

The fresh scent of pine needles welcomed Neil as he rode down the El Pano 
road. Even Charlie’s swinging gait beneath him felt good, he thought. That’s 
what a week or two of city life will do for you.

He knew he’d cause a stir tonight at the mission house. He wasn’t due back 
until tomorrow but he wanted to surprise Christy.

Neil was also anxious to find out if Harland has shown his face around the 
mission house. Christy'd said that Harland had promised to stay near the 
lodge but Neil knew the man’s word was as stable as a house of cards.

Neil had made inquiries in Knoxville concerning Harland's uncle, Roland 
Cunningham. Cunningham’s fortunes had increased since Neil had last seen 
him, which had seen nearly 14 years ago. Men like Cunningham had plenty of 
wealthy friends and entertaining them was an expected courtesy. It made 
sense that he’d want to fix up his long-forgotten hunting lodge to do so.

But why ask Harland? He was purely a city man from the looks of him. Neil 
doubted he could even hold a hammer properly. What business did he have 
repairing a lodge by himself?

Neil could only guess that having run out of money, Harland had ingratiated 
himself on his uncle's good humor and asked for a job. Cunningham had been a 
fairly harmless, good natured man to Neil's recollection. And now he had 
unwittingly sent his nephew right back to the scene of his humiliation.

But regardless of the circumstances, Neil didn't like such an unscrupulous 
man living in the cove. Thinking of Harland's chance encounter with Christy 
at Margaret's grave made his blood run cold.

The time away had given Neil ample time to think. On the way to the hospital 
where the seminar was being held, he’d seen a group of high school girls 
gathered outside an elaborate store window. They chattered and giggled, 
obviously planning a shopping excursion. Their youthful excitement had 
enchanted him, reminding him of Christy. At times he forgot she was some 13 
years his junior.

Christy was a grown woman. She’d experienced things very few delicately bred 
young females had. But the fact remained that she was only 20.

I’m going t’ have t’ remember that in our marriage, Neil thought as he 
continued on the road. She’s not an old jaded soul like I am. Her life’s 
just beginning.

He prayed God would give him the wisdom and tenderness Christy needed in a 
husband, to be patient and not worry about her so much. He had lived on his 
own for so long. To share his life completely was going to bring about 
changes he had yet to even consider.

“Dr. MacNeill!”

Wheeling Charlie around, he caught sight of Dan Scott riding toward him on 
his horse, Freedom.

“Dan, you’ve got to learn to call me Neil,” he corrected with a hint of a 
grin. “Been busy?”

“You’re a tough act to follow, that’s for sure,” Dan said, catching up. “But 
I think I did alright. Bob Allen let me treat Mary’s sprained ankle.”

“Now that IS progress! Fill me in on everything.”

Neil listened as Dan told him about the various cases he’d handled.

“So nothing out of the ordinary?” Neil asked.

“No. But something kinda disturbing. Coming back from milking yesterday, I 
found Ben Raeburn passed out in my front yard.”

“Was he drunk?”

“Three sheets to the wind,” Dan said as he adjusted his battered gray felt 
hat. “Managed to lug him home in one piece. I’m sure he was smarting when he 
woke up.”

Neil shook his head slowly. “That’s unusual. Most of these men manage t’ 
stumble home at least. Did y’ talk to Mrs. Raeburn?”

“Not long. Thanked me and sent me on. But the boy was fretting about his 
Pa.”

Neil had met Cora and young Joshua at church. He knew the family struggled 
to get by.. He’d also heard Ben was spending time with Bird’s Eye Taylor.

“Joshua’s ten, right?”

“So Cecile tells me. He’s a bright boy. Rarely has anything to eat for 
lunch. But Miss Christy’s got him working.”

Neil didn’t speak. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Christy was 
giving Joshua food in exchange for his help.

“That gal’d help anyone in a fix,” Dan was saying, his eyes thoughtful. “But 
I suppose you know that.”

Smiling to himself, Neil nodded. “I do.”

As they rode, Neil told Dan about the seminar and some of the topics 
covered. But Dan’s attention seemed elsewhere. He kept pulling at the 
fingers of his gloves.

“Dan, is there something else? Speak your mind, man.”

Dan’s eyes flew to Neil’s face, surprised. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only t’ me. Out with it.”

Dan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Doc, I might be out of line but 
you haven’t been around. I’m worried about Miss Christy.”

Neil’s throat tightened at the mention of her name, drawing Charlie to an 
abrupt halt. His eyes met Dan’s.

“Why is that?”

“Yesterday I took Cecile by the school house. She’s ready to go back to 
helping in the mornings. Doc, Miss Christy looks worn out.”

Neil nearly swore out loud. His fingers tightened on Charlie’s reins, 
causing the horse to snort in protest.  It took Neil a few moments to 
control his voice before speaking.

“How bad is it, Dan?”

“Had a headache. Looked tired. Not eating enough.”

Neil sighed. “It could be anemia…or something worse.”  He should have known. 
She’d thrown herself into her work, paying no heed to his warnings. When was 
she going to learn to listen?

“Is Alice gone, Dan?”

“Over a week now. She’s in Big Lick for her yearly work with the women 
folk.”

The brisk wind cooled Neil’s face, dampening his anger only slightly. Alice 
wouldn’t have let this happen. I’ve got to talk to David and Rose.

“Doc, slowing that gal down is like penning in a tornado,” Dan said, cocking 
his head to one side. “Nobody can stop her. Kinda like you.”

Neil expelled a short breath, clenching his teeth as he stared ahead of him. 
Then he began to weigh Dan’s words. Christy was more like him than he cared 
to admit As a doctor, he’d pushed himself more times than he could count, it 
was his passion. And the children were Christy’s. She was doing the same 
thing.

“What you say is true,” Neil finally said, his voice ragged. “We’re a 
stubborn pair. Thank you for telling me, Dan.”

**

A full moon spilled its shimmering light over the cove, lighting the way for 
Neil as he rode toward the mission house.

He’d stopped at his cabin to bathe and change clothes. And to soften his 
temper. If he was going to convince Christy that she had to change her 
habits, he had to be calm when he did it. If she only knew what danger she 
was in. She wouldn’t take such chances.

Neil caught sight of David and Rose coming down the mission house steps as 
he rode into the yard.

“Welcome home, Neil,” David said. “How was Knoxville?”

Neil didn’t beat around the bush. “Fine. Is Christy inside?”

David stared at Neil hard as the doctor dismounted. “Yes, she’s grading 
papers.”

Tossing his saddlebags over his shoulder, Neil mounted the steps, leaving 
Rose and David to wonder at his abrupt manner.

Opening the door, Neil caught sight of Christy sitting in Alice’s rocking 
chair before the fire. As she dozed, her dark lashes were stark against her 
pale cheeks. The stack of papers in her lap looked enormous under her 
splayed fingers.

Swallowing his rising anger, Neil took off his coat and hat before he 
stepped across the entrance and into the parlor. His boots made no sound on 
the rug as he knelt by her chair.

For a moment, he simply watched her. Her hair was down, pulled back in a 
loose mane that fell over her shoulder. It made her seem even younger, more 
vulnerable.

Until now, he hadn’t realized just how much he he’d missed her. It welled up 
in his chest, choked him. He wanted to pull her into his arms and not let 
go.

A log shifted in the fireplace, hissing and popping. Christy stirred, her 
fingers fluttering over the paper protectively. Then her eyes slowly opened 
to meet Neil’s intense gaze.

“Neil…you’re back early!”

“Aye. Surprised?”

“I thought I was dreaming,” she said as she touched his face lightly. “How 
was Knoxville?”

“Good. But it’s better to be home,” Neil said, his voice low and gentle. 
“Where’s Ruby Mae?”

“She went to bed early. She spent all afternoon with Rob Allen chopping 
wood.”

Chuckling, Neil shook his head. “That girl will do anything t’ win her man.”

“Despite the splinters,” she added, her blue eyes soft. “It’s amazing what a 
girl in love will do, Doctor.”

“Is that so, Miss Huddleston?”

She put the papers on the floor and stood up. But she wavered, reaching 
behind to grab the chair. Neil’s hands flew out to steady her. He eased her 
back into the chair, his concern flaring.

“Christy, this is more than exhaustion. You nearly fainted just now." His 
fingers searched for her pulse and he noticed how frail her wrist was. 
"Dan's worried and so am I."

“But Neil--“

“Not another word. Let me have a look at you.”

She didn’t protest, her eyes closed as she leaned back. Only nodded. His 
cursory examination didn’t take long.

“I think you’re anemic, Christy.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Like Toot McHone had?”

“Aye. I’m not surprised. You’ve run yourself ragged, and hardly been eating 
a thing, I’ll wager.” He dropped back into the chair opposite her. “This has 
to stop, lass.”

“But Toot’s fine now.”

“Toot didn’t have cancer, Christy. Your body’s already been severely 
weakened by the surgery. Anemia weakens you even more. A body can only take 
so much.”

Christy didn’t speak right away. She stared into the fire, fidgeting with 
her engagement ring.

“When does school let out?” he asked.

“In two days,” she said, her voice seeming to come from far away.

“Good. For two weeks, you’re not going to do a thing. Not one thing. I’ll 
talk to David t’ make sure you don’t. When school begins again in December, 
you’re only going for half the day.”

Christy’s head jerked up. “I can’t do that!”

“You can and you will,” Neil said, that no-nonsense note ringing in his 
voice. “Anemia is serious, Christy. If you don’t rest and eat properly, it 
could get worse. Do you want that?”

Christy rose slowly from her chair and moved away from him. “Of course not! 
But the children are putting on a play. Who’s going to direct it? I can’t do 
it from my bed!”

Neil bolted up from his chair, blocking her path. His hands fell on her 
shoulders. A wild fury brewed in his hazel eyes. How could she still be so 
blind?

“Christy, you’ll do as I say or I’ll tie you down myself! Don’ t you 
understand? The children won’t HAVE a teacher if this goes on! I won’t watch 
you do it!”

Abruptly, he removed his hands, storming over to the window. He stood there, 
staring up at the moon, arms folded over his chest. She was the most 
maddening woman he had ever met. For long moments, silence filled the large 
room as Neil prayed for patience. For understanding. He was so angry that 
his body shook with anger.

“She’s not a child, Neil,” Alice’s words haunted him. “She doesn’t need a 
father.”

But that was exactly how he was treating her.

A few moments later, he felt her hand on his back, her touch gentle on his 
tense shoulders.

“Neil, you’re tired from your trip. And I’m worn out. There’s no use in 
going through this tonight. Can you come back tomorrow? I promise…I’ll hear 
you out.”

Turning from the window, Neil looked down at her. His anger fled. To see her 
so tired and weak brought back memories of Philadelphia all over again. 
There was also a lingering edge of fear in her eyes that hadn’t been there 
before. He had made his point.

It pained him to see it. He hadn’t meant to frighten her, but she had to 
know the danger she was in. After a moment, he drew her to him and dropped a 
soft kiss on her forehead.

“Try and keep me away.”



Chapter 24

Summary: Harland continues to make his mark.

Christy shouldered her book bag as she opened the front door to the mission 
house. She had to admit she was glad school was letting out after tomorrow.

The mist that had fallen over the cove was starting to break up a little. It 
lent a mysterious air to the crisp, damp morning. The taciturn beauty of the 
Smokies never failed to lift her spirits.

As she descended the steps, a familiar voice called, with even more 
enthusiasm than usual. “YOOOO-nited States Mail fer Miz Christy Huddleston!”

Ben Pentland road through the mission yard, his horse Molly going at a fast 
clip for her old age. In his hands was a small parcel wrapped in brown paper 
with a number of odd stamps on it.

“Good morning, Ben,” Christy said as Ben brought Molly to a halt. “Is that 
for me?”

“Reckon it is,” Ben said, hefting the object in his hands. “Come all th’ way 
from Scotland, ma’am! Never brung anythin’ from thar! What you be expectin’ 
from so far away? It ain’t a donation, is it?”

Christy held up her hand to stop him. “No, not that. Ben, you can’t tell 
anybody about this. It’s a gift for Dr. MacNeill and I want it to be a 
surprise.”

Ben eyed the package warily, his eyebrows raised. “Don’t s’pose it’s them 
funny lookin’ pipes they play, is it?  Too small fer that.”

Hiding her smile, Christy reached up and took the package from him. “No, 
it’s definitely not bagpipes. But it is something special so you’ve got to 
keep quiet, all right?”

She nearly laughed at the crestfallen expression on Ben’s face. He looked 
like Ruby Mae whenever she was told to keep a matter private. Keeping the 
lid on a tasty item of gossip was almost too much for the mail carrier to 
bear.

“Miz Christy, you know I won’t tell ole Doc ifn’  ya ask me to,” he said, 
scratching his head. “But it’s gonna be plumb hard.”

“Tel you what, Ben,” Christy said, lowering her voice. “I happen to know 
Rose has some apple strudel leftover in the mission house. If you show up 
around lunchtime and tell her I sent you, Rose might share it with you.”

Ben, never one to turn down a good meal, beamed from ear to ear. “I reckon 
that’ll take th’ edge offn’ my disappointment, ma’am,” he said, nodding. “I 
promise I’ll keep it to m’self.”

“Thank you, Ben, I do appreciate it,” Christy said before stashing the small 
parcel in her book bag. “I’ve got to get to school now.”

“Good day to ye,.” Ben tipped his hat before heading off toward the Allen 
mill.

Walking up the hill toward the schoolhouse, Christy saw John Spencer emerge 
from the fog with Lulu and Zady. Almost as if they had stepped from another 
world. She stopped and waited for them.

“Good morning, children.”

“’Mornin’, Teacher,” Zady and Lulu echoed.

But by the look on John’s face, Christy could tell something wasn’t right.

“Lulu, go on up to t’ school,” John said. “We gotta talk t’ Teacher.”

Lulu obeyed, running off to find Mountie.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Yes’m, I reckon there is. I done heard that Mr. Harland fella’s back in th’ 
cove.”

Christy’s heart sank. She’d hoped Harland would keep to himself. Evidently, 
he hadn’t.

“Did you see him?”

“No, ma’am, but Pa said he was back. Mr. Pentland told ‘im when he come over 
yesterday.”

Christy glanced across the school yard as the other children began arriving. 
She could only imagine the questions she was going to get today. No wonder 
Ben had so easily accepted her request to keep her secret. He had a juicier 
tidbit to share.

“John, I don’t want you going over to the Cunningham Lodge. It’ll only stir 
up trouble.”

Zady nodded, her expression grave. “That’s what I told ‘im, Teacher. But he 
won’t listen. Stubborn as an ole nanny goat.”

“Zady, he tried to steal Miss Hattie’s songs,” John insisted. “He ain’t no 
good. He’s gotta learn him a lesson.”

Christy felt her stomach turn at his words. “What do you plan to do?”

“Tell ‘im he ain’t wanted here.”

Christy unconsciously slid her gloved fingers along the book bag strap, her 
thoughts spinning. Just when she thought she was making progress, something 
like this happened. The grudges these mountain people held, once in place, 
never seemed to heal. Like a festering sore that only gained strength and 
poison.

“John, I can’t stop you from doing that. But think of what that means before 
you do.”

Some of John’s determination seemed to waver. He’d always worked to gain his 
teacher’s approval, even after Bessie Coburn’s lie.

“Will telling Mr. Harland he’s not wanted make him leave?” she asked. “I 
don’t think so. He’s repairing his uncle’s lodge so I doubt he’s going to 
stop now.”

“But Miz Christy, I gotta do somethin’!”

Christy regarded the young fair-haired man with a mixture of concern and 
admiration. He had the sensitive heart of a musician but his sense of 
justice was overshadowing that gentleness. His pent up frustration reminded 
her of Neil.

“John, I know he hurt you badly. He abused your trust and that was wrong. 
But if you go up there with the intention of getting revenge, you’ll have 
given in--given in to the hate. ”

John kicked at the hard ground with his worn shoe. “He done me and Miss 
Hattie wrong, ma’am. Can’t let that go.”

Christy felt her blood beginning to heat up. “John, you know Miss Hattie 
would never want you to do that. Or your parents. Think of how they’d feel 
if something happened to you.”

Zady tugged on his sleeve, worry brimming in her eyes. “Listen to ‘er, 
John.”

“Awright, awright,” Johh sighed, brushing her hand away. “Miz Christy, I’ll 
do what ye say. But I don’t like ‘im bein’ here.”

Christy put her hand on Zady’s shoulder as they began to move toward the 
schoolhouse. “I can agree with you on that, John.”

John turned to Christy and for the first time, showed a semblance of a grin.

“Do ya reckon that “S” in ‘is name stands fer “snake”, ma’am?”

**

Ben Raeburn trudged up the hill, shouldering his gun. His weather-beaten 
game bag flapped lightly against his side.

He’d gotten to be a pretty good shot with one arm. But the sights on his 
rifle were warped now. Just once, he wanted to bring fresh game to his 
family’s table.

Dejected, he plunked down on a wide tree stump and tossed his gun into the 
grass. What was the use? The only things moving in the woods today were 
people and squirrels. And the squirrels were too fast for him.

Fingering his ragged beard, Ben reflected on the last few months. Coming to 
Cutter Gap hadn’t turned out as he’d planned. His cousin Gordon had told him 
game was plentiful there. And Cutter Gap had a school. Ben knew he wasn’t 
much of a father but he wanted Joshua to grow up smarter than he had. 
Listening to Cora study with the boy every night proved to Ben that he 
already was.

But finding work had been almost impossible. Harvest wasn’t for another 
week. Even then it wouldn’t last long. With one arm, Ben could only do half 
the work of a normal man. It just wasn’t fair.

Why, God, he silently demanded. Why’d ye have t’ go and do this t’me? I 
never did ye no harm!

He’d had no business moving them here. Cora and Joshua had been happy living 
with her mother in Georgia. At least in Dalton he’d found the odd job now 
and then. But he hated living in someone else’s house in a strange town. 
Dependent on Mrs. Jenner for their food. As a man, it was his job to provide 
for his own family.

He closed his eyes as he thought about the other night. Gordon’s old pal 
Bird’s Eye Taylor had given him some moonshine in exchange for helping him 
stack firewood. He’d drown his sorrows in it and ended up passed out in the 
colored man’s yard. Ben didn’t think he’d ever live that down.

I done shamed Cora to pieces, he thought bitterly. What kinda man am I?

The sound of someone chopping wood interrupted his thoughts and Ben lifted 
his head. He’d been living in the cove for two months and still got lost. 
Whose land was he on now?

Scooping up his gun and bag, he rose from the stump and loped down the 
trail. Coming around two large boulders, he stopped short. A blond-haired 
man stood in front of a huge pile of firewood, drinking water from a dipper. 
Ben had never seen him before. Behind the man stood a large house with 
sloping eaves, a wide porch surrounding it. He hadn’t seen a house that big 
since he’d left Dalton.

Turning around, the man caught sight of him. “Ah, one of my neighbors. Come 
forward, my good man.”

Ben didn’t move at first. The stranger sounded citified, like the folks down 
at the mission. But he was wearing regular clothes. His axe was slung over 
one shoulder.

“Don’t be shy. I’ve got plenty of water to share.”

Ben couldn’t pass up an offer like that. He ambled into the clearing and 
gratefully took the spare dipper the stranger offered. He drank down the 
water in a matter of seconds.

“Hunting’s thirsty work, I’m told. Any luck?”

Wiping his mouth with his coat sleeve, Ben said, “Naw, not t’day?”

“What’s your name? I don’t recall seeing you before.”

“Raeburn. Ben Raeburn. Ain’t lived here long.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ben,” the man said and extended his hand. “I’m 
Theodore S. Harland. I’m making repairs to my uncle’s lodge here. As you can 
see, I’ve got my hands full.”

Shaking Harland’s hand, Ben surveyed the scattered logs. “Reckon y’do. Aim 
to be done come th’ first snow?”

Harland looked confused. “When’s that?”

Ben held in his urge to laugh. This man surely was a tenderfoot. “Comin’ 
soon, I ‘spect. Mebbe within th’ month.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. I still have some holes to patch in the roof.”

Ben poked at a log with his boot, eyes on the ground. “Sounds like you might 
be needin’ some help, Mr. Harland.”

Harland’s eyes swept over him then, obviously noticing he only had one arm. 
Ben held his breath.

“Can you shoot?”

“I shore can. This gun’s in turrible shape. But I’m a good shot. Kin chop 
firewood. Lug water from th’ crick. Anythin’ ya need.”

Harland didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Ben wondered what he was 
thinking. Then, as if deciding something, Harland nodded briefly and turned 
to the bucket to refill his dipper.

“I think I will need your help, Mr. Raeburn. I’d pay you well for your 
assistance.”

Ben tried to hide his excitement but the prospect of working for cash money 
overcame him. A wide grin split his careworn face.

“Mr. Harland, thems the sweetest words I done heard all day. I’ll work 
twiced as hard as  two men. Three men!”

Smiling, Harland took Ben’s dipper and refilled it, too. “I don’t doubt it, 
Mr. Raeburn. Not at all.”



Chapter 25


Summary: Various stuff.

**

“Bessie, I don’t see why we gotta go lookin’ fer some house I ain’t never 
seen. Or that snake, Mr. Harland.”

Bessie looked over her shoulder at Ruby Mae before heading up the steep 
hillside. “Don’tcha wanna see ‘im?”

“Don’t think it’s right,” Ruby Mae said, dragging her feet as she followed 
her best friend. “You know what they say he done. Tried to steal Miz 
Hattie’s songs and call ‘em his.”

“Well, he didn’t, did he?” Bessie asked, tossing her dark locks behind her. 
“’sides, we gotta know where he be stayin’ t’ keep an eye on ‘im.”

As the girls made their way through the thick, dense woods, Ruby Mae 
regretted telling  Bessie she’d go with her to find the Cunningham lodge. 
She had better things to do than walk all over creation. Like help Rob Allen 
work on his latest story.

Since John Spencer had spilled the beans about Theodore S. Harland’s return 
to the cove, the children had been curious. But mostly angry. City folks 
that came in and tried to take what wasn’t theirs were not welcome in the 
cove.

“He brought back Doc’s first wife when she were supposed t’ be dead,” Creed 
had said, his lower lip stuck out. “So he can’t be no good. Caused a heap o’ 
trouble.”

Even Lundy Taylor, whittling nearby on the school house steps, had grunted. 
“Him’ll go back to Atlanta ifn’ he knows what’s good fer ‘im.”

Ruby Mae knew about the lodge. Her Pap had told her where it was. But it was 
so far away she’d never wanted to go hunting for it. For some reason, the 
handsome city man fascinated Bessie.

“If we don’t find it in the next coupla minutes, I’m goin’ back,” Ruby Mae 
huffed, as she struggled up the steep side of a hill. “You ain’t got chores 
like I do.”

“Just a little further, I just know we’re almost there!” Bessie said 
confidently, reaching for Ruby Mae’s hand to pull her up.

The two girls crested the top of the hill and stopped, looking down into a 
hollow. Just as they’d heard, the lodge was situated amid the thick trees. 
It was larger than any cove cabin, almost as big as the mission house.

“That’s it! I told ya it was here. And thar be Mr. Harland, plain as day!” 
Bessie whispered, hardly able to keep her voice down.

Bessie’s spread to Ruby Mae. “Oh, Lordy, it IS him! But who’s that man with 
him?”

“I think its Mr. Raeburn. Ya know, that one-armed man. Looks like he’s 
totin’ water.”

“Cain’t believe he’s workin’ for Mr. Harland. Guess he couldn’t find no 
reg'lar work, him havin’ just one arm an’ all. That family’s poor as church 
mice, they do tell.”

Bessie squinted as she scooted closer. “Ruby Mae, do ya think Mr. Harland’d 
take me away to Atlanta? Ifn I asked ‘im?”

Ruby Mae rolled her eyes. “I reckon he’d laugh his head off. He don’t know 
yer alive!”

Bessie sniffed, turning away from her friend. “Don’t know about that. I 
reckon I turned Rob Allen’s head a time ‘er two.”

Now it was Ruby Mae’s turn to frown. “You stop talkin’ ‘bout Rob Allen like 
that. You done had yer chance, Bessie Coburn.”

“I’m just funnin’ with ya!”

“You just keep yer trap shut, Bessie. I mean it!” Ruby Mae said, her voice 
rising.

“Shhhh! They’ll hear us! Now simmer down ‘cause I wanna git a real good 
look.”

**

“Why isn’t my word good enough for you, Rose? What more do I have to say?”

“David, there’s no need to shout. I can hear you just fine.”

Christy sat on the front porch waiting for Neil, wrapped up in her heavy 
coat. She didn’t want to overhear the argument brewing in the parlor but she 
was too tired to get up and move.

“Stay away from Theodore Harland, Rose.”

“Do you think I plan on traipsing up to his lodge with a picnic lunch? Do 
you think I’m that naïve?”

“Of course not. But you asked me about him and I think you ought to know 
he’s dangerous.”

“You sound just like Christy. Mr. Harland may be cunning and untrustworthy 
but I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

“Christy’s seen him in action and knows better. I wish you did!”

Christy shut her eyes, feeling pity for the both of them. She knew how it 
felt to be at odds with the person you cared about most. Neil had been so 
angry last night. All day in the classroom her mind had replayed the scene. 
But she couldn’t blame him. She’d done exactly what he told her not to do.

The door of the mission house flew open and Rose fled down the steps. Her 
footsteps were loud on the planks. She didn’t even look at Christy as she 
asked, “Can I borrow Buttons?”

“Of course, Rose. Are you sure you’re--”

Christy’s voice trailed off as she watched Rose stalk to the barn, her coat 
and skirts flapping behind her. David came out onto the porch a few moments 
later, his face telling Christy everything she needed to know.

“She didn’t believe you?”

David grunted before dropping heavily into the rocking chair beside her. 
“Nope. Harland’s got her completely fooled.”

Christy hid the tiny smile curving her lips. “Is this your first fight?”

“Yes, are you happy?”

“David, of course not!”

David closed his eyes, going limp as he leaned back in the rocker. “I’m 
sorry. That wasn’t fair. If anyone knows how charming Harland can be, it’s 
you. Why can’t Rose see that?”

“Because she wasn’t here when he brought Margaret back,” Christy said, her 
voice low as she remembered. “She didn’t see the betrayal in John’s eyes. 
She doesn’t know the stories behind Hattie’s songs.”

David propped his feet up on the porch railing. “I keep forgetting she’s 
only been here a few months,” David admitted. “It seems like longer.”

“I’m still adjusting to life here, David, and it’s been almost two years. 
Give Rose some time.”

He nodded, his eyes trained on the open barn doors. Rose came out riding 
Buttons and headed off down the trail toward the Spencer place. Dust flew up 
from the brown mare’s hooves.

“She’s plenty mad at me now. What did I do?” David asked.

Christy drew her legs up under her and suppressed a yawn. “Well, you 
questioned her judgment and then you compared her to me. Need I go on?”

David groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “I should go after her.”

“Maybe later but not now. She’s been in the kitchen all afternoon.”

“You’re right. Besides, I want to be here when Neil comes.”

“What for?”

“Because we have to talk about you,” he said, his dark eyes serious. 
“Christy, Neil’s worried sick about you. And so am I. He told me about your 
anemia before he left last night.”

“You have enough on your mind without adding me to it, David.”

Before David could reply, Christy looked up to see Neil approaching on 
Charlie. Her heart did a little jump in her chest. Was he still angry with 
her?

“Christy, why are you so nervous?” David asked.

“It’s nothing, David.”

Dismounting Charlie, Neil asked, “ Was that Rose I just saw flyin’ by on 
Buttons?”

David stood up. “It was.”

“Trouble in paradise, Reverend?”

“Oh, Neil, that’s not nice,” Christy said. Then she saw him draw something 
out from under the saddle blanket. “What’s that?”

Neil looked at David, tethering his horse. “She’s got better eyes than any 
surgeon, I’ll grant you.”

For a moment, David seemed to forget his misery. “She always keeps me on my 
toes.  Can I get you some coffee?”

“Thank you, David. I take back my remark.”

Grinning, David headed for the door. “Wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t have 
some choice words to share, Neil.”

As Neil came to stand beside her chair, Christy tugged on his coat sleeve. 
“What’s in the package?”

Neil’s gloved fingers covered her bare ones, his laughter soft and warm to 
her ears. “Don’t even think you’re going t’ weasel that out o’ me just yet.”

“Spoilsport. You’re no fun.”

“Keep it up and I’ll break into limmericks, young lady.”

She was glad Neil was in a bantering mood. After last night, she hadn’t been 
sure how he’d act.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, the laughter lingering in his hazel eyes. “It’s 
getting colder and I don’t want my future bride becoming an icicle. Here, 
let me do that.”

He gently helped her up from the chair, something Christy was grateful for. 
They moved into the parlor where David had coffee waiting for them. Neil 
accepted a steaming mug but Christy did not.

“I’m glad you’re here, David. I need you as a witness to what I’ve got to 
tell Christy.”

Sitting on the stone hearth, David poked at the fire. “I’m all ears, 
Doctor.”

After taking off his coat, Neil took Christy’s hand as he sat beside her on 
the settee.

“I told Christy last night that she’s got t’ slow down. That means some 
changes around here.”

“What did you have in mind?” David asked.

“School lets out for the harvest day after tomorrow. During the holiday, I 
want Christy t’ have complete rest. No lesson plans. No cleaning out the 
chicken house. No cooking. And no chasing after Ruby Mae. Is that clear?”

David nodded. “We can do that. Anything else?”

Neil paused, looking briefly at Christy before taking a sip of coffee. She 
could tell what was coming next was important.

“There’s one other thing. She canna be directing this Christmas pageant. 
Somebody else will have t’ do it.”

“Neil, I can do it if I’m careful,” Christy insisted. They were talking as 
if she weren’t even in the room.

“But you haven’t been careful,” he said. “I mean it, Christy. Not this 
time.”

She fell silent and bit her lip. She’d worked so hard on writing those 
parts.

“Who did you have in mind to direct it, then?” David asked.

“I was hoping it could be a joint effort. Cecile Scott has agreed t’ help. 
And so has Rose.”

David sat up straight. “You asked Rose? Why?”

“From what her father’s told me, she was quite good at amateur dramatics in 
school,” Neil said. “And I know she’d love t’ get t’ know the children 
better. She told me so this afternoon.”

Christy saw the logic of Neil’s thinking despite her personal 
disappointment. Rose was somewhat bound to the kitchen. Helping direct the 
play would bring her out from behind the stove.

“I can help Cecile,” David said, his chin going up slightly. “Pulling Rose 
into this isn’t necessary.”

“Afraid you’ll miss a meal?” Neil asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” David asked, frowning.

Christy leaned forward and put up her hands. “Gentlemen, there’s no need to 
argue.”

Both men sank back, frustration written all over them. Christy turned to 
David.

“Maybe Neil’s got a point. I hate giving up anything to do with the 
children. But it would do Rose a world of good to have something else in her 
life besides cooking for us.”

David was silent. To her right, she felt Neil’s hand squeezing hers in 
approval.

“All right,” David said. “Fairlight can help Ruby Mae from time to time in 
the kitchen. And Alice is due back tomorrow. What else?”

“Christy’s got to keep her strength up. So good, healthy food has t’ be on 
the menu every day. No more sharing your lunch with Joshua Raeburn, lass.”

Christy’s face turned pink. “How did you know?”

“Doesn’t matter. Cecile and I’ll make sure the lad gets what he needs. I’m 
also going t’ make up some iron pills for you. That should help.”

David nodded. “I’ll stand over her every morning to make sure she takes 
them.”

Neil shifted so that their linked hands rested on his knee. She felt his 
strength, his determination to make sure she got better.

“All of this depends on your following my directions, Christy. If you don’t, 
it could be deadly.”

She nodded, looking away. She knew that all too well now.


Chapter 26


**

Summary: Christy confesses her fears to Neil.


After David left to find Rose, Christy rose from the settee to stand in 
front of the fire. Neil watched as she held her delicate hands up to the 
warmth of the flames. She’d been unusually quiet after their discussion.

“Feeling cold, lass?”

“A little. Can’t seem to get warm enough.”

Feeling unusually chilled was yet another symptom of anemia. Neil shook his 
head slowly. Had she truly not seen the signs that she was ill? It troubled 
him that she hadn’t said anything to anyone. Then again, that wasn’t her 
way.

Neil picked up her shawl and stood, moving across the rug to drape it over 
her shoulders. With gentle hands, he turned her to face him.

“Christy, can I ask you something?”

She nodded, her eyes not quite meeting his. She had that same nervous edge 
he’d noticed when he’d arrived.

“Didn’t you suspect something was wrong when you felt so tired? And had 
those headaches?”

She didn’t reply.  Her dark eyes were trained on the fire, giving little 
away as she toyed with the cross at her throat.

“I know you’ve been busy,” he went on. “ But surely you suspected…”

She still said nothing, only shivered slightly. Then her eyes slowly filled 
with tears. To his surprise, she let out a long, shuddery sigh.  Neil’s arms 
went round her and she hid her face in his shoulder. For a long, painful 
moment, she seemed to mentally struggle.

Her words came out muffled, so soft he hardly heard them.

“I’m scared, Neil.”

Neil expelled a great rush of air. It was so rare for her to admit she was 
afraid of anything. “Why, lass?”

Her answer came out in stammered bursts.

“I’m afraid...it’s happening again. That the cancer’s back. When I got 
tired...and the headaches came. It...it was like that when I went home this 
summer. That...that’s why I didn’t slow down. I didn’t want to believe it. I 
kept pushing it aside. And yesterday. What you said. It...it frightened me.”

“Oh, Christy,” Neil breathed. No wonder she was scared. She'd been reliving 
what resembled her cancer symptoms all over again. His hand gently rubbed 
her back to ease her agony.

“I don’t think its cancer. Not from what you’ve told me. But I’ll test your 
blood tomorrow t’ make sure its anemia. And we’ll see Nathaniel in December. 
I think you’ll be better by then.”

“I don’t want to worry anyone, Neil. Especially you. Or Miss Alice. And the 
children. Not after everything that’s happened.”

Neil settled his chin on her hair, felt its silky texture against his skin. 
With his thumb, he lightly stroked her damp cheek. Her tears burned deep 
into his heart. He’d had no idea his words had made such a profound impact. 
Now so much made sense.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean t’ get so angry last night. Or t’ frighten 
you. I have t’admit I was worried myself when Dan told me you weren’t well.”

“Is that who told you?” she asked.

“I ran into him on the El Pano road yesterday ,” he said. “He told me your 
symptoms and I got mad at myself for not seeing them myself.”

Lifting her face to look at him, Christy shook her head. “That’s not right. 
How were you to know? I kept it from even myself.”

“Nay, little one. I should have seen this coming. You thought you’d come 
back and pick up where you left off,” he said. “As if nothing had changed. 
But it’s not that simple.”

Her lips slowly curved into a regretful, watery smile. “I know that now. 
There was so much to do. And I didn’t want to disappoint the children. I was 
gone for so long.”

“I can see that,” Neil said, his voice low and admiring. “You’ve never been 
one to ask for help. You’re as stubborn as I am.”

“You’re just now noticing that?”

He laughed softly, pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket to carefully 
wipe her tears away. “I do forget from time to time.”

They sat down on the settee again and she recaptured his hand. He rubbed the 
skin of her palm lightly with his thumb. “Christy, I don’t want you t’ be 
afraid. I plan to keep a keen eye on my favorite patient. But I promise t’ 
try and not be too demanding in the process. All right?”

She nodded, her eyes brightening. For a few moments, they simply sat 
together, both relieved that the unhappiness between them was gone.

“I’m still waiting to find out what you had hidden under Charlie’s blanket, 
Neil. Is it my Christmas present?”

“As I said, stubborn as always. It’s only November. Can’t I get you a gift 
for no reason?”

She pinched him on the arm, insistent. “Neil! You said you’d show me.”

“Very well,” he said as he drew out the parcel. “You did agree to hand over 
the play t’ Rose and Cecile. I think you deserve a little Christmas right 
now.”

Her nimble fingers unknotted the string and pushed back the brown paper to 
reveal a stack of new sketchbooks and pencils. As he had hoped, her blue 
eyes lit up at once.

“I saw them in Knoxville and had t’ get them for you.”

Her mouth opened but no words came out at first, her emotions clearly 
getting the better of her.

“Oh, Neil! How did you know? I haven’t had time to ask Mother to send any. 
My pencils are worn to nubs! Thank you!”

He put his arm round her shoulders, thoroughly enjoying her happiness. “I 
noticed in Philadelphia they were looking a bit shabby.”

“I’m still not very good at sketching,” she said as she fingered the sharp 
pencil tips. “I haven’t had time to practice lately.”

Neil shook his head, looking down into her eyes. He felt lost at times when 
he looked into them. Utterly captivated.

“You’re a woman of many talents, Christy,” he said, touching her cheek 
lightly. “I’ll always treasure those sketches you left me while you were in 
Asheville. I want t’ have ‘em framed.”

Her skin warmed at his touch, flushing slightly. “I know I’m off duty during 
the holiday. But…could I sketch the children? They’ll want gifts for their 
parents for Christmas. I promise I won’t overdo it.”

He smiled, not surprised. Even now she was thinking of the children. “Maybe. 
I want to test your blood for iron first. Then we’ll talk about it.”

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she folded up the discarded 
paper. “Come to think of it, you’re not the only Santa in the cove these 
days. I think there’s something on the table for you.”

“This truly is Christmas! I hadn’t noticed you were growing white whiskers, 
Miss Huddleston.”

“I seem to recall a certain doctor making me sit through a rather 
uncomfortable discussion before he gave me my gift. What punishment should I 
extract?”

“Christy, you know I had t’ do that.”

“I know. I’m just teasing you,” she told him as she moved out from his arm. 
“Let me get it.”

“Stay put, I’ll do it,” he insisted, jumping up to do so. A small but sturdy 
parcel rested beside her book bag. “Is this it?”

“Yes, bring it over here so I can watch you open it.”

Neil sat down and turned it over in his hands, shaking it.

“You look like a little boy,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t shake it. 
Open it!.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I should have left you some cookies and 
milk, Santa Claus.”

His hands made short work of the paper, tugging back the edges. The moment 
his eyes fell on the squat tin, he nearly dropped it. “Christy…it’s my 
favorite tobacco from my school days in Edinburgh! How did y’know?”

Christy looked wise. “Ian McDougall told me when we were in Philadelphia. I 
bombarded him with questions about your college days together. The hardest 
part was getting Ben Pentland to stay quiet! He’d never delivered a package 
that came all the way from Scotland before.”

Opening the tin carefully, Neil inhaled the fragrant, earthy aroma. Images, 
sounds of the past filled his mind. Strolling the streets of Edinburgh, the 
sun setting on the city. Sitting in the McTavish Arms Tavern with Ian and 
Robert Kilwarren, arguing over the latest treatise from the Royal Academy of 
Medicine. An exciting time when everything had seemed possible. Before 
Margaret.

“I canna believe you tracked this down,” he murmured, closing the tin before 
setting it down beside him. “Nobody sells it over here. Why did you go t’ 
all that trouble?”

Christy was quiet at first, her eyes pensive. Her fingers toyed with the 
fringe on her shawl. He knew she was choosing her words with care.

“Because…well, I wanted you to have something from me that nobody else could 
give you. A memory of a happy time in your life. When your dreams were 
coming true. Because…that’s what you’ve done for me.”

Neil shook his head, instantly drawing her close so that his cheek rested 
against her soft, fragrant hair. Sometimes, when he least expected it, she 
said something that completely overwhelmed him. For a moment, he couldn’t 
speak. His heart was in his throat.

“Your love is the only gift I need, lass,” he finally murmured, voice thick 
with emotion. “ And this is the happiest time in my life. This moment.”


Chapter 27 to come!